Tuesday night legendary Chicago DJ Terri Hemmert (the first woman to have a morning drive slot) gave a lecture at the Chicago History Museum on the music of 1968. Terri has come to be known as a national authority on all things music, particularly The Beatles, despite her formal education having ending with a BA from her beloved Elmhust College.
Before she took the stage, a slideshow of album covers, psychedelic art, band photos, and concert art posters was shown as “Age of Aquarius” played. There’s something about that song. It always makes me want to get up and perform a musical number exactly like the one done by Steve Carrell and friends at the end of 40 Year Old Virgin. (I did manage to stay in my seat, barely.)
When Terri took the stage she asked the crowd how many of us were not alive in 1968. About a third of the group raised their hands. She made the point that the rest of the group should take note and ask themselves if in 1968 they cared about 1948 and the Flappers. I like Terri – she respects and appreciates us young people. (I was alive in 1968, so I did have to raise my hand, but I was only one.)
I was making copious notes in my journal during her lecture. The guy in front of me turned around and said, “That paper rustling is very annoying.” Instead of getting mad at him, likely because I was feeling all full of Aquarius and love, I said, “sorry” and stopped. I thought to myself that he actually handled his annoyance in an appropriate way – he could have said “CUT THAT OUT!” which would have made me much more combative. Cindy pointed out later that I should have said, “I’m so tired of being hassled by the man!”
Anyway, Terri started with Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues.” She showed the video from his live performance there. She used the huge video screen next to her podium to show the artists performing all the songs she discussed. That really made this lecture vibrant and relevant despite the fact that she was quite sick with a cold while giving it. The remainder of her songs/videos were:
Marvin Gaye’s “Heard it Through the Grapevine”
The Rascals, “People Got To Be Free”
Sly & The Family Stone, “Everyday People”
The Chambers Brothers, “Time Has Come Today”
Jimi Hendricks, “All Along the Watchtower”
Beatles, “Revolution”
RFK’s speech in Indianapolis on the night Martin Luther King was shot.
Rolling Stones, “Sympathy with the Devil”
Elvis Presley, “If I Can Dream”
Martin Luther McCoy, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”
She wrapped up the lecture by first telling a great story about New Year’s Eve, 1968 to 1969. She was in her Ohio bedroom on break from Elmhurst College, throwing back 7Up, listening to the radio countdown to the #1 song of the year. She had kept tallies from the college radio station and was confident “Hey Jude” by The Beatles would be the number one song of 1968. But it was #2. The #1 song of 1968 was “Honey” by Bobby Goldsboro. “Even in the idealized musical year of 1968, there was still crappy stuff out there” she said.
She closed with a quote, apropos of nothing and everything, “Remember the words of John Lennon, ‘We all shine on, like the moon and the stars and the sun’ – words to live by.”
“Honey” was an awful, awful song.
I’m jealous! I always loved listening to Terri Hemmert when I was back there, and I’m still amazed to hear her voice on the air when I’m back there. (Of course, I could say: I’ll see you one Terri Hemmert and raise you a Dex Card, Ron Riley, and Clark Weber, but that would *really* date me.)
Interesting comment she made about 1968. I constantly think about that. I was walking a slightly younger friend through the sequence of events of ’68 just today, and yeah, I think that back in ’68, counting back *40 years* would have taken me back to 1928. My mom wasn’t even 40 in 1968, for crying out loud.
Anyway … there’s been a shift in popular culture since then. For whatever reason — maybe because the Baby Boomers make up such a big demographic bloc — that ’60s era has retained currency far longer than you would have guessed based on the longevity of, say, Rudy Vallee. But then again, very little in the world was the same in ’68 as it was in ’28; and, the persistence of our music aside, I think 2008 bears less resemblance to ’68 than ’68 did to ’28.
I’ll stop before I get totally timewarped.