A Top Ten Memoir: 1975 - "I’m seeing you darling for the very last time…”
I was in sixth grade at the start of 1975. At Perkins School in Chicago I was a patrol boy, which meant standing on an assigned street corner and controlling when students could cross. Along with the assignment, us patrol boys got to leave class early and get together for a special patrol gym class once a week. This latter “perk” was not exactly to my liking or skill set since I couldn’t throw a football or hit a softball. Nevertheless, I made it through and developed a few friends along the way.
At home I was enjoying my time with neighborhood friends such as Paula, Lois, and Irene. Irene’s many cousins would regularly come to visit. I especially loved it when Stevie and Guy came to town. I considered Stevie my best friend at the time even though he lived all the way out in Hoffman Estates, a Chicago suburb some forty minutes away. I looked forward with great excitement to his phone calls and visits.
I’d get together with Stevie and all of the neighborhood kids for my various tape recording sessions. I was usually the narrator, announcer, or director. Whether it be singing the hits or performing plays, these activities proved to be great fun and left me with a library of cassettes, which I treasured, featuring all my favorite friends.
These tapes would prove to be quite nostalgic very quickly. Ray, now my third father, was asserting himself in the family in a much less aggressive form than John. He played football with Jeff outside and took Mike, Jeff, mom, and I on a trip to Florida that March. There he taught us a little about golf (I missed most balls) and shuffle board. Jeff was naturally better and I’d jump up and down like a girl when I made progress during the competition.
Ray didn’t push the way John did and, as a result, didn’t feel too threatening to me. He was more of a “money” guy and more interested in education than making us become alpha males.
Early in the year though, he and mom dropped a bombshell when they announced they had decided to sell our house on Oak Park Avenue in Chicago and move us to the suburbs.
By April the deed was done. They had bought a house in Palatine, about 45-minutes northwest of the city. The day the big moving truck came to haul all of our belongings was a very sad one. I remember the moment when the truck pulled away. I could see Paula and Lois, and my old friend Annie, standing in their windows waving goodbye. Paula and I, in particular, vowed to write letters to each other as we were told that calling would now be considered long distance and thus too expensive. Suddenly my time in the only neighborhood I ever knew was over.
That year The Doobie Brothers released the single Take Me in Your Arms (Rock Me) and it became a pretty big hit. I remember it playing in the background during one of our final visits to Paula and Lois’s house. Somehow I managed to have my tape recorder with me and of course taped part of the conversation we were having. When I think now about that song, the lyrics must have been hitting me on some level that I never really contemplated until recently:
Take me in your arms (rock me, rock me a little while)
Oh little darling (rock me, rock me a little while)
I'm losin' you and my happiness
My life it is so dark, I must confess
I'll never, never see your smiling face, no more
I'll never, never hear your knock upon my door
Before you leave me, leave me behind
Please let me feel happy one more time
The girls I knew in that neighborhood were a major part of my life and happiness at the time. Frankly, losing them and moving scared me to no end.
1. Philadelphia Freedom – Elton John
2. Please Mr. Postman – Carpenters
3. You’re No Good – Linda Ronstadt
4. Tryin’ to Get the Feeling Again – Barry Manilow
5. Just Too Many People – Melissa Manchester
6. Island Girl – Elton John
7. Long Tall Glasses – Leo Sayer
8. Midnight Blue – Melissa Manchester
9. Heat Wave – Linda Ronstadt
10. Take Me in Your Arms (Rock Me) – Doobie Brothers
Our new house at 1209 E. Carpenter Drive in Palatine had been a model home in a neighborhood that had been built, for the most part, within the previous five years.
Everything was very clean and new. The house was filled with the then popular color of lime green which appeared on our model couches, wallpaper, and carpeting. Virginia Lake was behind the houses across the street thus deeming those neighbors “rich.” Even former Chicago Cub Glenn Beckert lived in our neighborhood.
He and Ray would become friends and drink until all hours of the night. Lawns were well manicured and beautifully landscaped. Jeff and I continued to share a bedroom but Judy and Mike each got their own rooms. We quickly decorated the room with all of our favorite posters. My side featured Cher and The Carpenters while Jeff’s was mostly filled with sports figures.
I was sent to Virginia Lake School to finish up sixth grade. I remember that first day meeting my teacher Mrs. Upland who walked me through the classroom where the other students’ desks were arranged according to what seemed to be small cliques. She set up a desk for me with two boys named Dave and Joey (interestingly both had the same names as two of my good Perkins School friends.) Not long after I sat down, Mrs. Upland tripped over a chair behind me and I immediately thought I must be bad luck! This marked the beginning of a long period of self-doubt and low self-esteem.
It was tough getting to know these kids and I tended to stay fairly quiet during class. I even shied away from mentioning my love of music when Mrs. Upland allowed for record playing in the classroom. I grew to love it when records like Long Tall Glasses by Leo Sayer were played even though they weren’t “mine.”
I knew “I could dance” but didn’t feel comfortable revealing that animated part of my personality. Instead I was turning more and more inward. My lack of physical ability did not make me any friends during gym class either. As the final two months of the school year progressed, I rushed home where I could watch television and delve into my private fantasy worlds where things were much more comfortable and under my control. I had a nice light brown desk in my bedroom that became the source for much of my fun. On my final report card, Mrs. Upland wrote: “Let’s seek out new friends this summer.” I think she was sensing something…
One of my first big fantasy activities was the creation of a fictitious television station called Kid Channel (WAY before there was a network called Nickelodeon) where my friends and I from Chicago ran all the programming and starred in each of the shows. I was president, of course. I had my own version of Hollywood Squares called Kid Squares, which would include not only friends but our dogs Ginger, Misty, and later Maggie. (Not sure how that would have worked – perhaps I was inspired by Squares semi-regulars Wayland and Madame…) I’d create the famous tic tac toe board from the Hollywood Squares set and fill in the names of who was sitting where, with the primary cast being me, Jeff, Irene, Paula, Lois, Stevie, Guy, and some of my other former Chicago friends. I’d do the same with Match Game (forgive the art work...)
Even more representative of my inner talent was The Recorders variety show. Named after the group of us who continued to live on my tape recorder, the show allowed for skits and musical numbers. I developed details as to the contents of each episode. We’d usually be “singing” and performing my then current favorite songs such as Elton John’s Philadelphia Freedom and Island Girl. Both songs had lots of lyrics and big choruses that I would visualize being performed live. I’d imagine big production numbers where our talents could be used to their fullest. In reality, my vision was probably in the Brady Bunch/Zoom range at this point than more sophisticated shows like my favorite, The Carol Burnett Show.
These activities allowed me to remain “connected” to my former childhood friends, at least on paper anyway. I’d also create whole schedules of TV shows, which would include new people I was seeing around school, but afraid to talk to, with others from Perkins. I imagined how each kid would go together and in what kind of show they’d work best.
As such, my early days in Palatine were spent creating these worlds while also listening to music and watching television. I had a whole schedule worked out during the summer months. Everything from Hollywood Squares to reruns of The Lucy Show would fill my days. I’d even know exactly when I could eat my favorite food – peanut butter – and how often. (For the record, during this period, it was twice a day.) I knew the schedule for everything on the networks. My favorite was CBS which had its classic Saturday night lineup of All in the Family, The Jeffersons, Mary Tyler Moore, The Bob Newhart Show, and The Carol Burnett Show. I lived for Burnett’s “Eunice” skits which I found utterly hilarious. I also loved spin-offs like Rhoda and Phyllis. I even recorded my favorite episodes on cassette tapes and would fall asleep to them each night. In addition to my weekly WDNP music Top 40s, I’d also keep a list of my favorite TV shows of each week. This was how I dutifully filled my time.
Since Palatine was close to Hoffman Estates, Stevie would occasionally come for a visit or I’d stay over at his house.
These were my biggest social activities. Sometimes I would go for bike rides on the path behind our house or hit tennis balls off the wall on our patio, but as Linda Ronstadt sang about a Heat Wave, I spent most of the summer inside in air conditioning, enjoying my entertainment.
The Carpenters had one final monster hit with their remake of Please Mr. Postman. It was catchy and perhaps the most upbeat and guitar oriented of all their releases. I became a member of their fan club and received all sorts of paraphernalia. It was a year later in 1976 that my brother Mike took me to see them in what would be my first concert experience. It was very brief, about an hour long, featuring mostly a medley of their hits, but it was magical for me. During those early years in Palatine my Chicago friends and I would write letters to each other trying to keep up our communication. I looked forward to those letters from Mr. Postman as I was in deep need for some connection to my friends and past.
In the Fall of ’75 I had to attend Palatine Hills Junior High School for seventh grade which involved taking a bus.
I found myself slowly meeting new people but still was quite shy. I didn’t talk to any of the other kids at my bus stop. Somehow this social isolation was showing up in classes too as I was sent to a Counselor, Mrs. Heath, to help me through this rough adjustment. I don’t recall what exactly caused me to start seeing her, it may have been a kid pushing a wet lunch table rag in my face, but it marked the beginning of a lifetime of therapy. I remember telling Mrs. Heath that I didn’t like being called a “fag” but “gay” didn’t bother me that much. She asked me what I thought the difference was. I said, “a fag is a boy who acts like a girl. Gay means you like boys.” Truth being told, I wasn’t consciously aware of what my sexual orientation was. I was quite attracted to a girl named Dana who was in my class and lived about five houses down from me. I could never get up the nerve to talk to her but she sat behind me in math class and I always let her copy my answers when she needed to. I did have various crushes on boys and the occasional teacher at this point though. I remember a Librarian who I would see in the distance. He looked Italian and had long black hair parted in the middle and a thick mustache. Everything about that look turned me on, although again, I didn’t really know it. I just knew I liked to look at him and would often turn red if he’d look back at me.
Generally, though, I was pretty lonely and desperately missing Chicago. That Fall I discovered Melissa Manchester. She had a big hit with Midnight Blue from her album Melissa. As soon as I started listening to the album, I fell in love with every song on it. Just Too Many People became my favorite. Key lyrics: “Sweet darling, as long as you stay by me I’m half way home. I can see brighter days before me, though it’s been stormy, at least I know I’m not alone.” I wasn’t alone with Melissa. I felt a strong bond with her. Lyrics were often very hopeful and her vocal delivery proved very comforting to me. There was a maturity to much of her music that I appreciated but she also knew how to have fun as songs like Party Music and It’s Gonna Be Alright from the Melissa album proved. Manchester had a career that didn’t produce a lot of hit songs but they all were important to me. Every one of her upcoming albums would produce multiple songs that spoke to me in very heartfelt ways.
One of Manchester’s Arista label mates was Barry Manilow who began a string of major hit songs. In the Fall of ’76 he released the album Tryin’ to Get the Feeling. I loved a lot of the songs on the album but really only began to appreciate the title cut much later in life. “I’ve been up, down, trying to get the feeling again, the one that made me shiver, made my knees start to quiver every time she walked in.” I think anyone that’s ever been in a long-term relationship can feel that longing for the excitement of the early days of a relationship. Searching, in many ways and places, for that “feeling” has been a life-long quest. Years later I would sing this song on camping trips with my friend Sue and even later with my friend Marco on car trips into the city. The lyrics became more resonant as we got older.
Linda Ronstadt’s You’re No Good is another song that I think becomes more meaningful as the years go by. I’d put it on playlists of “angry” songs along with You’re So Vain and many other Top Ten tracks. These songs could potentially provide a great release when mad at the world or particular people. Truthfully it’s not a list I listen to a lot. I often use it as a test to see how mad I really am and if I want to remain in that angry place. Regardless, Ronstadt’s performance is so strong on this song and the production is outstanding that it ranks among her very best.
Was I angry about moving? Yeah, I’d say so. I missed my friends and neighborhood in Chicago and 12 is never an easy age to start at a new school. Still I had my music and TV shows.
Links to my Top Ten of 1975:
What are your favorite songs of 1975?
Next Up…1976 - “I must be fantasy’s best friend…”
I can’t help feeling my own childhood experience paralleling with yours 10 miles to the south. I love your raw honesty in this. I’m just repeatedly moved by the clicking tock of music moving forward. And I love you.
Fascinating reading this. The combined trauma of moving away from all you knew AND being the notoriously difficult middle school age is quite the double whammy. Glad there was music and TV for you to seek shelter.
I thought the video for Please Mr. Postman was something. Here’s a song about loneliness and feeling abandoned (not unlike Rainy Days and Mondays) and here they are bopping around Disneyland having the time of their lives. Intentionally ironic? Who knows. Good list of songs, though. Will have to revisit my songs from that year.