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Last night on PBS I watched the current line-ups for Vanilla Fudge, The Guess Who, 5th Dimension, Iron Butterfly, Blood Sweat and Tears, and a bunch of others from the sixties each perform one huge hit a piece. In many cases the bands lead singer is the only original member, but the sound was still great.
Watching these guys definitely evoked mixed feelings; most of whom are in their sixties themselves now, some not for much longer. Yet there they were in the spotlight, reliving their youth. Some still mostly looked the part, if only the cameramen could have restrained themselves a bit on the close-up hand shots during the solos. Others I would have assumed needed help at the crosswalk if I met them on the street.
But the audience. My God, that was where the real toll of time had taken place - - what a sad sight to see. So many overweight grand parents bobbing their heads, remembering the day - - who said if you can remember the 60's, you weren't really there? These people were clearly there, somewhere, dancing in grassy circles, high as a kite, with flowers, round colorful shades, long hair in headbands, all surrounded by psychedelic paisley and tie-dye non-patterns. The smiles on their faces revealed they still held on to a memory of two. I'm sure hearing and seeing their acid rock idols was like a trip in a time machine. Emphasis of course on 'Trip'.
Good for them. And good for the rockers, too, who still got it after all these years. Hope I can say the same about myself someday. I'm sure that day will be here before I know it.
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