Friday, March 09, 2012
Cindybin’s Video Picks of the Week: Happy 70th Birthday, Mark Lindsay!
Where were you on the night of March 9, 1972?
If you are much younger than me—which a lot of people are these days—you were either a child, baby, in the womb, or not even born. But I can tell you were I was on that date! At home having a slumber party in honor of Mark Lindsay’s birthday!
In case you don’t know, Mark was lead singer of the 60’s group Paul Revere and The Raiders. Their hits included Kicks, Hungry, Good Thing, Indian Reservation, and more. Mark also had solo records, with “Arizona” probably the best known.
His long, dark hair pulled back in his signature ponytail, Mark joined fellow band mates dressed in Revolutionary War costumes—their gimmick to coincide with the group’s historic-sounding name. A guy named Paul Revere was actually the leader and founder of the group.
They hosted musical daytime shows produced by Dick Clark, which I vaguely remember watching. But I was just too young to appreciate them. And then the Monkees came along at just the right time for me and they won my heart (see Davy Jones blog below).
But then I got a little older, the Monkees broke up, and I remained crushless for awhile, until I caught Mark on a summer replacement show called Make Your Own Kind of Music. I had tuned in to see The Carpenters, my new favorite group. Mark was a regular guest, and boy was he cute! By this time I was 14 with more mature hormones. Oh how I drooled over Mark! I had to see more of this guy!
Suddenly I remembered my old 16 Magazine from 1967 that I had bought for The Monkees articles. It was long packed away, but I ran and dug it out. There they were, pictures and articles galore on Mark and the other Raiders—which I had totally overlooked as a Monkees fan! “Wow, he’s gorgeous”, I thought. “How could I have not noticed him before?”
I cherished those pictures and read every article. I even “rated” the pictures, writing a letter grade corresponding to how good it was—if it captured Mark’s true handsomeness. I told my friends of my newfound love and was thrilled when the older girl next door gave me her old Raiders Greatest Hits album. Another friend had a few more albums she no longer wanted, and she educated me on their hits. I played those records over and over on my parent’s console hi-fi. The songs were all new to me.
And then I found out that Mark was going to appear in concert in my area! I couldn’t believe it! He and Davy Jones were touring together and would each perform all their hits, live and in person! I just HAD to go. We were planning a family vacation that summer but by my calculations would be back in time for the show in mid-August. My mother knew how much I loved Mark, and I pleaded with her to buy tickets. I made sure to tell her that Davy Jones was going to be there, too. “So even if Mark isn’t the only performer, it still won’t be a waste of money because I used to like the Monkees, too,” I pointed out. “So the tickets would still be worth it, and can I go see him, oh please can I go, PLEASE?” Amazingly, she said yes! She agreed to spend the whole $5 a ticket. I was thrilled! I even have the original newspaper clipping advertising the concert. It had a picture of Mark, but not Davy. Poor Davy.
August came and there we were, home from vacation and sitting in the auditorium: me, my mom, and my little brother. Yes, I had to bring them with me, because none of my friends were interested. It was a rather small facility and the event was nowhere near sold out, so we got fairly good seats. I even remember what I wore—a blue floral print skirt and a light-weight blue knit top. I wanted to look my best, in case Mark spotted my cute but skinny 14-year-old self in the audience and somehow realized I was the girl of his dreams.
Davy was first and put on a good show (again, see blog below). Then I waited anxiously for Mark. I told my mom and brother to cheer loudly for him—we had to make a big deal about this and show him how appreciated he was! Finally he came out! There he was, in real life! I cheered and clapped and stomped my feet—something I had never done at a concert before and have never done since—not even when I saw The Carpenters or The Association.
I honestly don’t remember anything particular about Mark’s performance, except that he got the call letters for the local radio station mixed up, and that he sang “And The Grass Won’t Pay No Mind.” I can’t recall any other dialogue or chatting with the audience, although he probably did say some things. But I was glad to see him, even though he didn’t ask me out or even notice me. Oh well.
And as I mentioned in the blog below, I’m really glad I saw Davy, too. I look back and realize that he and The Monkees made much more of an impact on my life than Mark ever did. And they still do to this day! I often watch their TV show and never tire of their music—grooving away to it whenever I hear it on the radio. I rarely even think of Mark. (No offense, Mark!)
But back to the 70’s, I continued to gaze at Mark’s album covers and dream about him. On March 9, 1972, I even had a slumber party for his birthday. I invited all my friends and we stayed up late, talked, ate, and called a night-shift disc jockey and giggled away over the phone. He got such a kick out of the fact that I was having a party for Mark’s birthday. I stayed faithful to Mark for several more months, but then eventually outgrew him and didn’t have any more celebrity crushes of that magnitude again (unless you count Mario Cimarro in my 50’s—ha! See blog below on Pasion de Gavilanes).
Anyway, I have never forgotten Mark’s birthday, and happened to realize a month or so ago that he was turning 70 this year! Seventy! I thought I’d write a blog about it, and even looked up his website and contacted him hoping to get a few quotes for it. (Hey, it was worth a try, wasn’t it?) But alas, he never wrote back. Darn! And to think I gave him the best years of my life—14 and 15! And even threw a big bash for his birthday 40 years ago!
Oh well, maybe he didn’t get my email or maybe he’s just too busy. I honestly don’t know much about his personal life. I recall seeing him on a talk show years ago featuring former teen idols, and Mark’s new wife Deb was in the audience. She had been a fan, and when asked how she liked being married to him, she said something about how “the reality is better than the fantasy.” I thought about how about how neat that must be for her!
I also love the episode of Married With Children, where Mark and other 60’s musicians (along with Al “Axl” Bundy) perform a parody of the charity concert “Live Aid” called “Old Aid” and, rather than “We Are the World”, they belt out a geriatric rendition of “We Are the Old”. (“We are the old, we’ve got arthritis; our gums are weak from gingivitis…”) It was hilarious! And Mark was still a hottie.
So today he is 70. And according to Wikipedia, he’s alive and kicking and has done lots of projects over the years. He even toured heavily the last two summers with other 60’s artists. And he and Deb are still married. Hmm, I guess that means I’ll never have a chance. Oh well. Heehee.
In any case, happy birthday, Mark! Hope you have a great day! Keep on singing! (And email me!)
Mark and the “Old Aid” group on Married With Children: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIpqLb72wsg
Paul Revere and The Raiders Singing Steppin’ Out, live in 1966 (dig the groovy go-go dancers!): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjqLVy_H7mo&feature=related
Paul Revere and the Raiders on The Smothers Brothers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioufyn6j3cU&feature=related
Arizona (with Mickey Dolenz and Peter Noone), 2009: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzmjhj-PEEE
Mark Lindsay singing Just Like Me in 2011: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SyI7Q3GNns&feature=related
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
THE BOYS TURN THREE!
Brisco and Bowler are three years old now! My babies are growing up! I never caught them sitting together today so I only have individual portraits with their traditional Garfield party hats (left over from when the kids were little). As you can see, Bowler also has the hat on his face and partied down.