Famous Song Lyric Sings True

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is available at Amazon (click here) and orderable at all bookshops.

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In late spring 1967, so late it was almost summer, the Beatles released “When I’m Sixty-Four” written by Paul McCartney when he was only 16.

At the time, for I had turned seven less than a week before, the song was far beyond my youthful comprehension. In truth, even in high school and college, and a good while beyond, I had a hard time imagining being 64…

…yet seemingly in a wink and a blink, come Memorial Day next week, the lyrics “many years from now” will have arrived for me and McCartney’s words will sing true as I reach this musical milestone age.

While I’m not yet “losing my hair” (thank you, Grandpa Ansel, for your thick-thatched genes) I do have three grandchildren (not “Vera, Chuck and Dave” but Maya, Auden and Amara) to bounce on my knee.

For some reason, perhaps because it was one of my favorite things to do when “When I’m Sixty-Four” first hit the airwaves, I have been reminiscing about riding bikes. In the 1960s, we kids could—and did!—hop on our stingrays in the morning and explore like Lewis and Clark all day long so long as we were home by dinner call.

Oh, the places we’d go! The fun we had! The things we’d do! We’d ride to our friends’ homes, ride to the five-and-dime, ride to the playground and swimming pool and tennis courts. We’d build wooden ramps to soar off, and have contests pedaling as fast as humanly possible before jamming on the coaster brakes with all our weight and try to not wipeout as the back tire locked and fishtailed on the pavement and whoever left the longest black comet tail won, all without bike helmets.

Sometimes, oftentimes, we also left knee and palm flesh behind on the pavement resulting in impassioned pleas for our moms not to spray Bactine—OUCH!!!—on the road rash for that hurt worse than the crashes.

The fall I most vividly remember happened the very first time I rode a two-wheeler solo. I had just turned four and to put an end to my pleading and begging and whining my two older brothers took turns teaching me to ride by running alongside holding the seat of one of their outgrown bikes to maintain my balance.

No doubt, dear reader, you know what happened next for you surely had the same experience when you learned to ride: the magical moment came when one of my brothers let go of the seat while I was concentrating wholly and simultaneously on pedaling and steering and controlling the wobbling and remaining upright—and without knowing it I was suddenly a human space capsule that had shed its booster rocket and was now soaring without assistance.

Down the sidewalk I rolled and, unable to maneuver a U-turn, I continued to pedal all the way around the block and when I came full circle my brothers were both gone…

…for Mom had called us inside for dinner.

Unfortunately, they had neglected to give me instructions for how to use the coaster brakes to stop. Moreover, the hand-me-down bike was a bit too tall for me to touch my feet to the ground, so around the block I went a second time, and a third, and still no one was waiting to help me stop without falling.

Falling, of course, is how I eventually stopped. I came inside in tears and in need of Bactine—and in a state of glorious happiness.

When I’m Sixty-Four next week I shall celebrate with a bike ride.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.

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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.

Column: New Mount Rushmores

We’re Going To Need More Granite

 

Eighty years ago the sculpture on steroids known as Mount Rushmore had the face of its first rock star dedicated in ceremony. Three years later in 1936 Thomas Jefferson joined George Washington followed by Abraham Lincoln’s face in 1937. Lastly, in 1939, Theodore Roosevelt’s spectacled countenance completed the famous presidential quartet.

 

RushmoreIn honor of the 75th anniversary, I thought it would be fun to consider some other Mount Rushmores. Certainly you will not agree with all – or perhaps even many – of my suggestions, but that’s part of the fun.

 

Likely, one’s own age and biases will blur their vision.

 

And, hopefully, good-natured arguments will ensue which is fine because these are not written in stone – oh, wait, yes they are!

 

Let’s put the boxing gloves on and begin.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Boxing – Jack Johnson, Joe Louis, Muhammad Ali and Rocky Balboa.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Models – Surely dating myself, I’ll go with chiseling in granite these – um – busts: Cheryl Tiegs, Kathy Ireland, Elle Macpherson and Christie Brinkley.

 

The Mount Rushmore of American Writers (Male) – Hemingway, Twain, Steinbeck and, since this is my list, Jim Murray.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Writers (Female) – Emily Dickinson, Harper Lee (I know, I know, she only wrote one book but “To Kill A Mockingbird” is THAT great!), J.K. Rowling (conversely for her series of books and their impact on young readers), and Maya Angelou (for her voice aloud as well as on the written page).

 

The Mount Rushmore of Athletic Shoes – PF Flyers, Chuck Taylor Converse High-Tops, Adidas Superstars and Nike Air Jordans.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Stadiums – Since there are far more great stadiums than great presidents, I’m breaking this into categories:

 

Baseball – Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, Dodger Stadium and (sorry Wrigley Field) the tiny Field of Dreams.

 

Football/Track – The Colosseum (in Rome),The Coliseum (Los Angeles Memorial, host of two Olympics and two Super Bowls including the first), The Rose Bowl (framed by the San Gabriel Mountains) and (sorry Lambeau Stadium, Notre Dame Stadium, Ohio Stadium, Soldier Field and others) The Astrodome (for good reason called in 1965 “The Eighth Wonder of the World”).

 

            Arenas – The original Madison Square Garden, the original Boston Garden, The “Fabulous” Forum and Pauley Pavilion because championship banners matter.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Cold Cereals – Corn Flakes, Rice Krispies, Raisin Bran and Wheaties.

 

My Personal Boyhood Mount Rushmore of Sugar For Breakfast – Froot Loops, Super Sugar Crisp, Alpha-Bits and Tony The Tiger’s “They’re Grrreat!” Frosted Flakes.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Candy Bars – Hershey, Milky Way, Snickers and 3 Musketeers.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Basketball – James Naismith (The Inventor), John Wooden (The Wizard), Phil Jackson (The Zen Master) and Jerry West (The NBA’s Logo and thus represents all the hardwood greats).

 

The Mount Rushmore of Quarterbacks – Johnny Unitas, Otto Graham (seven pro championships in 10 title games in his 10-year-career), Joe Montana and I’ll have to get back to you on the fourth.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Tennis (Men) – Remember this is my monument: Rod Laver, Bjorn Borg, and Mike and Bob Bryan (unlike the greatest singles player in history, there is no debate over the greatest doubles tandem ever).

 

The Mount Rushmore of Tennis (Women) – Billie Jean King, Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova and Steffi Graf.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Superheroes (Comics) – Batman, Superman, (Comics), Spider-Man and (my monument) Mighty Mouse.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Superheroes (Film) – John Wayne (almost every role), James Bond, Atticus Finch and James Bailey.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Female Vocalists – Aretha Franklin, Ella Fitzgerald, Janis Joplin and Whitney Houston.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Male Vocalists – I’m not even going to try.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Movies – Impossible, but here goes: The Jazz Singer (first talkie), Casablanca (first on many people’s list), Star Wars (hey, its my list) and just to make my Pops happy, his boyhood version of Star Wars and all-time favorite movie to this day, The Adventures of Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland.

 

The Mount Rushmore of Rock ’n’ Roll – In another impossible category, I choose to have George, Thomas, Abe and Teddy joined by John, Paul, George and Ringo.

 

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

 

Check out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”