***The Big Time 1962
Teen Angst Night- Johnny Callahan’s
Heartbreak Hotel
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube
film clip of Brenda Lee performing Break It To Me Gently. Yah, we have
all been down that one-way road to perdition.
Of course in the old days, the olds days here being the early 1960s for anybody who is asking, in the days before the Beatles/British Invasion broke the musical counter-revolution that descended on the dreaded American teenage night the local radio airwaves were filled with all kinds of mush songs that girls, the record-buying girls were crazy for like the song listed above, Brenda Lee’s Break It To Me Gently. And that is the atmosphere that did in our boy Johnny, Johnny Callahan, a guy who you would have thought was above such things. Listen up though as we retrace his moves. And maybe guys out there, and not just old school 1960s guys, either can get some pointers.
Friday night, a late September
Friday, I think, because it was just getting cold at night around old North
Adamsville. And there was a cold political menace (soon to get hot, very hot)
in the air as well from those pesky Cubans and their patrons, the Soviets. In
any case a high school Friday night because the night we are talking of was the
night of the Falling Leaves Dance that had been an institution (and still is)
at North Adamsville High since Hector was a pup. Or at least as far back as my
mother’s time, Delores Markin, North Adamsville Class of 1942, the war years,
oops, the World War II war years so that you don't get mixed up on which war.
Every red-blooded teen angst-ridden boy or girl with the dollar required for
entry was going to show up, singly or in couples.
Now I should explain that this dance
was no Johnny Jones, the local kid with the most rock and roll records and an
arcane knowledge of said records, acting as D.J. at the regular free cheapjack
weekly Friday night, well, let’s call it sock hop. (You all had your Johnnies
so I don't have to detail his exploits, okay). No, this was a get out your best
party dress girls, no tee shirts need apply guys, almost “formal” dance. And
two things right away distinguished it for the low-rent sock hop. Yes, of
course, it was still held in the crusty old North Adamsville gym but the place,
courtesy of the North Adamsville Class of 1962 Senior Dance Committee (Whee!),
the senior class always sponsored this one, had the place looking, well, like a
hotel ballroom. No faded banners and bunting this night. Flowers, tablecloth on
the tables, glasses to drink your soda from rather than from the bottle, and so
on. Yah, this one was different.
The really big difference though,
Johnny Jones’s high opinion of his musicological skills notwithstanding, was
that this night there was live music provided by Diana Nelson and her pick-up
band, crazed local favorites, the Rockin’ Ramrods. No scratchy records over
Jones’ jerry-rigged sound system this night but the real thing. Diana on
vocals, and the Ramrods for some serious rock and roll covers. Now the reason
that Diana Nelson was featured that night may surprise you, or maybe not. In
the year 1962 everybody, boys and girls almost equally, were crazy for girl
vocalists singing their hearts out, and singing mushy stuff about heartbreak,
loneliness, sorrow, and other stuff than only teenagers in the be-bop 1962
night knew (or cared) about. Patsy Cline, Connie Francis, Brenda Lee, Carla
Thomas, and especially of late, Brenda Lee, singers like that with big voices and
some serious sadnesses to speak of.
So the town fathers, in their
infinite wisdom, decided that such wholesome, if sorrowful, music should have
its local representative and sponsored, sponsored out of town funds if you can
believe this, a singing contest with a one thousand dollar scholarship prize
attached for the winner. More importantly, as least to hear Diana tell it, was
the chance to be the female vocalist (with those Ramrods backing her up) at the
Falling Leaves Dance.
Sometime I will tell you about that
competition because some things that happened there would have amused, or
befuddled you. One thing that would not is the fact that Diana Nelson was, by
far, the best female vocalist there with her stirring rendition of Brenda Lee’s
I’m Sorry. Not a lip-synch-like imitation but in her own style. Even though
I was no mushy-headed guy but a regular Salducci's Pizza Parlor corner boy, and
took no notice of girlish sentiment, well, little notice anyway, I stood on my
chair and applauded. Truth to tell, I had a big thing for Diana, and had been
staring at her ass in classes and in the halls ever since about ninth grade so
that might have added to my delight at her victory. Of course my Salducci's
corner boys will try to tell you that I was one hundred percent skirt-addled
and dismissed this Diana thing out of hand. Don't believe it, even though she
never gave me a tumble (she was "going steady" with some college
guy).
The reason I won't go into that
competition thing now is because this story is really about Johnny Callahan,
you know the still hallowed "tear 'em up" fullback on the 1962
championship North Adamsville Red Raiders football team. And, well, it really
isn't even a story but just another one of those things that have been
happening to guys since about Adam, if not before. Now that I think of it,
before.
See Johnny and Chrissie McNamara had
been going out for the previous couple of years since sophomore year when
Chrissie, a young woman not to be messed with when she had a bee in her bonnet,
set out to "capture" one Johnny Callahan. No quarter given. Well, she
got her man, got him bad. Got him six ways to Sunday. I was there the night,
another Friday night if I recall correctly, that Chrissie, by general
agreement, general boy agreement anyway, a fox came strolling, no, zeroing in
on Johnny and sat right down on his lap and practically dared him to push her
off. What she didn't know (nor did we) was that Johnny was crazy for Chrissie,
and had been for quite a while. Everybody laughed when Chrissie, red-faced but
determined, said "Johnny, I'm going to sit here and it will take the whole
football team to pull me off." Of course Johnny was holding her so tight
to him that it would have taken the whole football team, maybe the junior
varsity thrown in too, to get her off his lap.
But that was then. Of late the
freeze had been on between them. Reason: one Lance Duncan, if you can believe
that. With a fox like Chrissie, no way. Lance, despite his preppie name out of
some F. Scott Fitzgerald Basil and Josephine story, was after all
nothing but the local whiz kid Math guy. And just then Chrissie was on a
"smart" kick. Now Johnny Callahan could carry twelve guys on his back
over the goal line on a granite gray fall Saturday afternoon but, let's say, would
be hard-pressed to accurately count the number of guys on his back. So Thursday
night, Thursday night the day before the Falling Leaves Dance, for chrissake,
Chrissie gave old Johnny the "kiss-off." Gently, nicely, with a soft
landing as was Chrissie's way but still a kiss-off.
So Johnny would not be sitting at
one of the those freshly laundered tableclothed tables drinking his soda from a
glass instead of from the bottle waiting to be crowned king of the dance along
with queen, Chrissie. I hoped, hoped to high heaven, when I heard the ugly details
that it would not affect his game that Saturday against tough arch-rival
Clintondale High (it didn't). He was so pissed off he went crazy, crazy enough
to count those thirteen guys he was carrying on his back when he went over the
goal line for his fifth touchdown of the afternoon.
P.S. Even now, maybe especially even
now these many years later, do not believe that nonsense from some unnamed
corner boys about my "hitting" on Chrissie at that Saturday football
game just mentioned (Math whiz Lance did not go to football games, period) now
that she was "free." Utter nonsense.
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