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Beatles or Beach Boys? That is the Question
My grandson and I are listening to Pet Sounds, Gavin’s favorite
CD by The Beach Boys. It’s the one where Brian Wilson sits alone
in his room singing about how God only knows what he’d be
without her. I’ve always wondered if he ever had her.
The Beach Boys sang songs about watching girls from a distance.
Wouldn’t it be nice?
We are on our way to Huntington Beach and Gavin is disappointed
we didn’t get there when the sun was coming up because the sun
is the planet that controls the waves and when the sun is closer
to the ocean the waves are bigger. Everybody knows that.
Gavin’s ten years old and we get into a heated discussion about
who was the best band ever? It comes down to The Beatles or
The Beach Boys. I try to explain to him that the Beatles sang to girls,
and the girls understood that they weren’t afraid to talk to them
and everybody could see that it was a short distance between
I want to hold your hand and
when I touch you I feel happy, inside…
There’s only so much I can explain to him—he’s still a kid—
I don’t think we’re ready to have that talk about the Rolling Stones,
or about how quickly life is going to change. I do need to tell him
that life is about balance. For every Lennon, there’s a McCartney.
We all fall in love, get acquainted with sorrow and yearn for yesterday
but seriously, how do you sleep when you’re crippled inside? I don’t know,
maybe we should ask Brian Wilson.
Gavin and I are just like everybody else, looking for our place on the tree.
I’m 63 years old and I wish I was a grownup.