I bet if you thought about it, you can remember how your taste in music was
developed. I am not referring to the nursery rhymes or other such stuff that
you listened to as a young child, but how you began to develop your likes and
dislikes of music in general. For example, I am sure that you remember
listening to music that your parents listened to, whether it was in the home or
in the car. Influenced by friends and other family members, maybe a cousin or
an older sibling. Even if it was something that you wouldn't listen to today, I
am sure that you would still know the words, the melody, etc., and it could
easily transport you back to a time frame of your youth.
When I was younger and hanging out with my friends, my early musical tastes were heavily influenced by what my friends listened to. At first it was the Jackson 5. Everything about them exuded "cool" and we listened to them every chance we could. We’d listen to them on 45’s, on the radio and sometimes on the TV (usually American Bandstand and Soul Train). Then it was Elton John. If I remember correctly, it was Elton's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album that we first started listening to. Then it was KISS and everything associated with them. From there it just blossomed into all sorts of stuff. But in the earlier days it was all about that one band or that one performer that we all liked more than any others in the moment. My own personal tastes tended to lean towards anything that was rock & roll and away from everything that was anything but. No easy listening, no adult contemporary, no country, etc., and disco was the enemy, pure and simple.
As our musical tastes began to develop and grow away from any one specific band or performer, one band that started to draw our attention was Santana. Sal was given a copy of "Moonflower" on cassette tape, and he used to play it continuously. This is still one of my favorite albums to this day, and I have owned it myself on album, Cassette, CD, and now on an iPod. Anyway, Sal had this really big boom box, I mean really BIG. It had twin cassette players, a radio, probably 4-6 speakers and it rocked. It probably took 8-10 "D" sized batteries and I remember that when we went outside, he had to be careful not to run the tape player for very long or else it would run the batteries down too quickly. Just imagine the picture of someone walking down the street with this huge boom box sitting on their shoulder and you have a picture of Sal leading the rest of us like the Pied Piper.
One of the places that we used to play was near the basketball courts and tennis courts of Potrero Heights elementary school. Even though the school was right next to our houses, the courts were quite a distance from our street. To get there you had to go through the upper fields and playgrounds, over a fence, and through another ball field and playground. These courts were clear on the other side of the school from where we lived. In fact, it was probably the length of 3-4 football fields away with the school building in between.
Now Sal & Sebastian's mom had this incredibly loud whistle. Not the kind of whistle that you use for sports, or a dog. I mean the kind of natural whistle that you do yourself. This is what she used to get their attention and call them home. Before long, we all kind of got trained to respond to "The Whistle," like some “pavlovian” experiment. No matter where we were, if that whistle sounded, we knew what it meant: It was time to head home and to do it fast! Keep in mind that Ronnie and I didn't need to leave wherever it was that we were playing. But, we were the four amigos, so if 2 of us had to go home, the other two would typically follow. Plus, it would not be uncommon for one of our parents to enlist the whistle in an attempt to get us back home too.
So there we were, playing basketball, listening to Santana on Sal's boom box and having a great time. Suddenly Sal & Sebastian stopped what they were doing and turned their heads in the direction of home. "Shhhh!!" They said. "What is it?" we asked. "I think I heard Mom's whistle," he said.
When I was younger and hanging out with my friends, my early musical tastes were heavily influenced by what my friends listened to. At first it was the Jackson 5. Everything about them exuded "cool" and we listened to them every chance we could. We’d listen to them on 45’s, on the radio and sometimes on the TV (usually American Bandstand and Soul Train). Then it was Elton John. If I remember correctly, it was Elton's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album that we first started listening to. Then it was KISS and everything associated with them. From there it just blossomed into all sorts of stuff. But in the earlier days it was all about that one band or that one performer that we all liked more than any others in the moment. My own personal tastes tended to lean towards anything that was rock & roll and away from everything that was anything but. No easy listening, no adult contemporary, no country, etc., and disco was the enemy, pure and simple.
As our musical tastes began to develop and grow away from any one specific band or performer, one band that started to draw our attention was Santana. Sal was given a copy of "Moonflower" on cassette tape, and he used to play it continuously. This is still one of my favorite albums to this day, and I have owned it myself on album, Cassette, CD, and now on an iPod. Anyway, Sal had this really big boom box, I mean really BIG. It had twin cassette players, a radio, probably 4-6 speakers and it rocked. It probably took 8-10 "D" sized batteries and I remember that when we went outside, he had to be careful not to run the tape player for very long or else it would run the batteries down too quickly. Just imagine the picture of someone walking down the street with this huge boom box sitting on their shoulder and you have a picture of Sal leading the rest of us like the Pied Piper.
One of the places that we used to play was near the basketball courts and tennis courts of Potrero Heights elementary school. Even though the school was right next to our houses, the courts were quite a distance from our street. To get there you had to go through the upper fields and playgrounds, over a fence, and through another ball field and playground. These courts were clear on the other side of the school from where we lived. In fact, it was probably the length of 3-4 football fields away with the school building in between.
Now Sal & Sebastian's mom had this incredibly loud whistle. Not the kind of whistle that you use for sports, or a dog. I mean the kind of natural whistle that you do yourself. This is what she used to get their attention and call them home. Before long, we all kind of got trained to respond to "The Whistle," like some “pavlovian” experiment. No matter where we were, if that whistle sounded, we knew what it meant: It was time to head home and to do it fast! Keep in mind that Ronnie and I didn't need to leave wherever it was that we were playing. But, we were the four amigos, so if 2 of us had to go home, the other two would typically follow. Plus, it would not be uncommon for one of our parents to enlist the whistle in an attempt to get us back home too.
So there we were, playing basketball, listening to Santana on Sal's boom box and having a great time. Suddenly Sal & Sebastian stopped what they were doing and turned their heads in the direction of home. "Shhhh!!" They said. "What is it?" we asked. "I think I heard Mom's whistle," he said.
"No way!" I said. "There is no way that you
heard your mom's whistle all the way down here while we are playing basketball
and cranking Santana on the box."
Sal went over to the boom box and turned it off. "Shhhh!" he said again. We waited, we listened, and sure enough there it was. “The Whistle." Like a bunch of trained Meer cats we bolted upright, turned our heads in the direction of home and just stared. It only lasted for a brief moment, but we immediately sprang into action, gathered all our stuff. Ronnie got his basketball and we helped Sal lift the boom box up onto his shoulder, and away we went. Like I said, we didn't have to leave, but we stuck together. We knew that if the whistle sounded and if they didn’t respond, someone would get in trouble and be grounded. That meant no friends, period. And when something negative happened to one of us it usually affected all of us. 4 Amigos. 4 Musketeers.
4 Meer cats listening to Santana's Moonflower, playing basketball and waiting for the whistle.
Sal went over to the boom box and turned it off. "Shhhh!" he said again. We waited, we listened, and sure enough there it was. “The Whistle." Like a bunch of trained Meer cats we bolted upright, turned our heads in the direction of home and just stared. It only lasted for a brief moment, but we immediately sprang into action, gathered all our stuff. Ronnie got his basketball and we helped Sal lift the boom box up onto his shoulder, and away we went. Like I said, we didn't have to leave, but we stuck together. We knew that if the whistle sounded and if they didn’t respond, someone would get in trouble and be grounded. That meant no friends, period. And when something negative happened to one of us it usually affected all of us. 4 Amigos. 4 Musketeers.
4 Meer cats listening to Santana's Moonflower, playing basketball and waiting for the whistle.
and 35 years later we are still buying Santana's albums.
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