Image by Ricardo Alfaro
My Real Memoir
The future I’d planned as a teenager was gone: my almost-famous band had disintegrated, my high school celebrity was yellowing in a scrapbook, and my first “I love you” was fading in a sideview mirror (“Objects in memory are smaller than they appear”). The only thread connecting me to my past was tied to my parents. As long as I still lived with them, they, especially Dad, would try and steer me toward a monotonous-but-practical future. No! I wanted to rush headlong into the daring, impractical, boredom-proof unknown!
I’d turned twenty the week The Beatles released their final album, and then my band, “The Next Beatles,” had broken up as well. Meanwhile, Paul McCartney had released his first solo album. Solo. I wasn’t sure what that meant for me, but every time “The Long and Winding Road” came on the radio, I could hear Paul whispering, “Keep going, Mitch!”
Still, like it or not, I needed Dad, or, rather, needed his money. Following my negligent homicide of his Volkswagen bug, I’d begun making monthly payments on a shiny new econo-box. And if I was ever going to get a place of my own—one with no parents bumping into me in the kitchen, offering off-the-cuff (i.e. carefully planned) advice—I’d need rent money too. So my newspaper-dealer dad (who’d quit The Herald-Examiner after “those dammed commies” cut his territory in half and rewarded him with a certificate of appreciation) offered me a car route in his new L.A. Times territory.
I was a paperboy again!
Donuts and FM radio were my keys to survival during those ungodly a.m. hours. With a cinnamon roll in one hand and a steering wheel in the other, I’d nestle a still-bubbling cuppa joe on the seat between my legs (those clever innovators in Detroit hadn’t yet thought of cup-holders). This method worked fine until the lid popped off and baptized my secret garden with scalding hot coffee. Welts. Yes, I discovered, you can get welts “there.”
Interestingly, the only decent FM station at four a.m. featured a DJ who sprinkled meaning-of-life questions between contemporary songs like “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Let it Be,” and Elton’s John’s “Your Song.” He also played songs by faith-based artists like Larry Norman, Mylon LeFevre and Andrae Crouch, as well as crossover tunes like The Byrd’s “Jesus Is Just Alright,” PG&E’s “Are You Ready?” and The Impressions’ “People Get Ready.” Great songs, even if you didn’t believe in God-stuff. So what did I believe in? I wasn’t sure anymore, and was just fine with that, but I had to admit God-stuff always seemed to tug at some indefinable thing in me.
At the end of day one of the fall semester, I turned on my car radio and heard “Fire and Rain” for the first time, and I thought I’d never get over it. I never did. Suddenly, I knew that I wanted–no, needed–to write raw, personal songs the way James Taylor did after his own failed band broke up. Solo. I wanted to write solo songs, and maybe in the process find out where I was…
On that long and winding road.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Sounds like quite the journey you’ve been on! It’s funny how life has its own plans sometimes, isn’t it? But hey, maybe this paper route is just another twist in the road leading you to your solo songwriting destiny. And who knows, maybe those early morning FM radio musings will spark some inspiration along the way. Keep chasing those dreams, Mitch!
Will do, Claire!
You are such a gifted storyteller, Mitch. Sorry about those welts!
Aw, thank you (and thank you ;>), Rhonda.
If you consider yourself solo
Sorry, Mitch! I accidently touched “send.” You’ve done well going solo because you’ve invited Jesus to walk along with you. 🙂
Amen to that, Nancy.
What a great story! Isn’t it amazing the way the things we consider to be “twists” in the road end up taking us on exactly the right path. James Taylor is a great source of inspiration to pick. I will add Leonard Cohen and Bruce Springsteen to that list also.
Oh, yes. And thanks, Russell.
Love your wicked sense of humor! Your words are mental pictures..😎
Thank you, MA. ;>)
Thank God for his stuff always tugging at some indefinable thing in you!
Amen, Joy.
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Looks Cool.
🎉❤️❤️🎉
Lots of overlap here with my story: In a band, cinnamon rolls, music era, paper route, doughnuts. Almost everything but the coffee scalding. Ouch!
You’re obviously me from a different multiverse, Robert.
I am really enjoying your journey, Mitch. Thank you for sharing. And I STILL love James Taylor. 💕
<3
Love these ‘diaries of yesterday’. It was a special time.
Thanks, Chris.
Is there any earthly dining experience that exceeds enjoying a great cinnamon bun with an equally inviting cafe latte? Was there ever a better song penned than Fire and Rain? Love your memoirs, Mitch.
Thanks, Bob, and a hearty “No!” to both questions!
I love the way God drew you in through a passion he built into your soul: music!
Hey, I was a paperboy, too! It was at the very tail-end of the news being a physical media, though, so there was a lot of pressure on our depot to provide more for less. By the time I quite I was supporting 6 different paper brands, with 700 papers delivered daily, spread across 12 different neighborhoods, from 2am-6am. We certainly weren’t the cute, little paperboys on their bikes anymore!
Wow! (For what it’s worth, Abe, I wasn’t all that cute.)
Mitch I saw this great story.Anita
Thanks, Anita.
Thanks for sharing these moments with us.
My pleasure, Vanya.
Those LAWR lyrics… so deep… don’t know how Sir Paul did it
The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
It’s never too late… get some sheet music blanks, think back to those halcyon days and let the creativity flow! 😎 🎶 🎼
Indeed, Darryl!
Great memories Mitch…looking forward for more.
Thanks, Max.
mitch upload you turned forty-five the age of your father at death
https://prettypoorna.wordpress.com/blog/
Nice recount, Mitch. Looking back over 50 years, those irritating parents were giving us some life’s lessons. Too bad we didn’t listen as close as we should have.
;>)
Ah, James Taylor. My wife and I, along with several couples, got tickets, but in the nosebleed section with an offending pillar partially blocking our view. Out of nowhere, an attendant motioned for us to come forward, seating us mid front row. What a concert, one we’ll never forget, with “Sweet Baby James” still ringing in my ears.
Wish I’d been there, Grant!
Wild evening. Later, we found out our ticketed seats got double booked, resulting in a memorable and fun night.
I love the cover art you used for this piece. Very different than the body of the story but perfectly captures the tone.
Those early teenage jobs were life changing, along with James Taylor’s music!
So when are you putting some of your songs on YouTube!?? Enquiring minds want to know!😉
I’ll keep you posted, C.A.!
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Great post! James Taylor is awesome…It is strange in life when we are young and suddenly it just ‘clicks’ on the winding road of life. We ask many questions in our youth…so many roads to choose from. You chose from your heart and so you found the answers…
Thanks, Linda.
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