Theme music begins:
“When I was young, my Dad used to say,
‘Son, we’re all going to die one day.
Why don’t you take a little time to do some good along the way …
Take a little time …
(music fades going into chorus.)
Del (low voiceover, speaking intimately into a microphone): Welcome to the Old Rockers podcast
Del: Welcome to the Old Rockers podcast, where two guys who used to be nobodies ruminate on why they are suddenly somebodies. I’m Del Watson, and this is my partner Gregor Brewster. Hello Gregor …
Gregor: Our guest today is Darryl Piccus.
Del: Hey! I went to school with someone named Darryl Piccus!
Gregor: And he’s today’s guest.
Del: But … why?
Gregor: We’re about to find out. Tell me, what do you remember about Darryl Piccus.
Del: Almost nothing. He was small, kinda brainy, and he always carried this huge briefcase that was about as big as he was.
Gregor: That’s about all I remember, too, but soon, thanks to the miracle of modern communications, he’ll be joining us live from Providence, Rhode Island. Darryl, are you there?
Darryl (appears on monitor. He has gray hair and a beard, and is of the same vintage as Gregor and Del): I’m here!
Gregor: Welcome to the Old Rockers Podcast. What’s it like in Providence today?
Darryl: It’s overcast and rainy, not really cold, but not warm either, kind of like every day we can remember from the Obediah Brown School.
Gregor: I hear ya!
Del: Do you still have the briefcase? That’s the only way I’m going to believe that it’s actually you.
Darryl: It’s right here beside me. (Holds it up to camera.)
Both: Omigod! There it is. Fifty years later.
Del” I’ve gotta know … what’s in that thing?
Darryl: The usual stuff … legal pad, notes, my lunch, a can of Arizona Tea …
Gregor: What’s for lunch, Darryl?
Darryl: I’m reluctant to tell you, beause you’ll think I’m weird.
Del: We’ve always thought you were weird.
Darryl: Today I’ve got a banana, a small blueberry yogurt, and two sandwiches.
Gregor: What kind of sandwiches?
Darryl: This is what I was afraid of … they’re peanut butter and pickle sandwiches on sourdough bread.
Gregor: What’s weird about sourdough bread?
Darryl: (laughs) If you haven’t tried peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, you should.
Del: Dill pickles or sweet?
Darryl: I have one of each. I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur of peanut butter and pickle sandwiches.
Del: What the fuck are you doing here, talking about peanut butter and pickle sandwiches.
Gregor: (interrupts) I’m afraid Del didn’t get the memo on this. Darryl, how about you take a minute and walk us through your life and career since Obediah Brown.
Darryl: Ok, I graduated …
Del: Did you carry around sandwiches in your briefcase back then?
Darryl: No, I actually carried a first aid kit, but that’s another long and not very relevant story.
Gregor: Get back to your life and career …
Darryl: Right … after graduation I went to University of Rhode Island, where I majored in American history. I got my teaching certificate and actually logged a couple of years back at dear ol’ Obediah before getting my graduate degrees, again in history, and jumping ahead a few years I eventually became Department Chair of History at Roger Williams College. I will be retiring at the end of this semester.
Del: How’d you get so big?
Darryl: I had a late growth spurt. I was 5’3″ when we graduated and a year later I was almost 6 feet.
Del: Great story, Darryl, and thanks for being our guest here on Old Rockers where we play loud, play fast, …
Gregor: Don’t be a wise ass. Darryl, keep going …
Darryl: My specialty was contemporary Rhode Island history, and my doctorate thesis was on the “Unintended consequences of the Vietnam War, and its impact on Rhode Island. This led to me writing a book called The Wounds of War, which looked at the subject on a national basis. It came out in the late 1980s when we were learning that the casualties of that war were not only the ones left on the battlefield.
Gregor: Hum a few bars of that tune, Darryl.
Darryl: I never served in the military, but in a sense we’re all veterans of the turbulence of that era. We watched the sickening evening news, we knew people who shipped out, or who high-tailed it to Canada, we all had to decide what to do about the draft–
Gregor: What was your number in the first draft lottery, Darryl?
Darryl: 338, yours?
Gregor: 277, safe enough. Back up and tell the listeners what we’re talking about.
Darryl: The draft was a messy business, with lots of favoritism, corruption, and variance from place to place. The national lottery, held on December 1, 1969 was supposed to clean that up by taking the entire pool of draft-eligible young men and establishing once and for all the likelihood of being drafted. It was set up like a game show with capsules, each containing one birth date being drawn fro a bin.
Gregor: I remember watching the common room of my dorm at Brown. For the first part of the night, if you birthday was called, you just got up silently and left the room, while after the supposed safe number was reached, around 200, it became a wild celebration. Break out the beer. What was you number Del?
Del: Damned if I know. I was in Saigon at the time. Didn’t matter to me.
Darryl: The Draft Lottery is a good example of an “unintended consequence.” It was supposed to clarify a murky situation, but instead it trivialized it by making it seem like the Powerball Game, but with a deadly outcome. If anything, it fanned the flames of anti-war sentiment.
Del: I’m starting to see a connection …
Darryl: I followed the two of you, just as you’d follow the outcomes of any fellow classmates from a small high school. At first I followed your music, then I followed the news of Del’s supposed death, then Gregor’s political career, and eventually your re-emergence as the Old Rockers. For the past couple of years I have hosted an honors seminar called “Play Loud, Play Fast, and Get the Hell in the Spotlight” which focuses on how your personal stories were affected by the Vietnam War, and Gregor has been kind enough to be a guest at one of the sessions, so now I’m returning the favor.
Del: Wow. I get it. We’ve got to take a break. We’ll be back to you as soon as we can, Darryl.
Del: Who are we shilling for today, Gregor? Hemorroid cream? Adult diapers? Cruises to nowhere? Investment scams?
Gregor: Oh Del … silly, silly Del? What’s the most important thing in the world to you these days?
Del: My dick?
Gregor: (fakes a laugh) Maybe a few decades ago, but right now, today.
Del: ‘Sythia?
Gregor: Of course, your beautiful wife, ‘Sythia, but after ‘Sythia?
Del: Can we just cut to the chase? What’s the most important thing in the world to me?
Gregor: Porky!
Del: My dog, Porky?
Gregor: Yes, Porky!
Del: Why would you say Porky?
Gregor: When you sit down at the end of hard day, say you are watching a Celtics game or looking on YouTube for videos of your favorite bands, who is sitting on your lap?
Del: You’re right, it’s generally not ‘Sythia. It’s probably Porky.
Gregor: And, like you, Del, Porky’s getting a little long in the tooth. Not that many years left, if you know what I’m saying.
Del: No … I don’t know what you are saying. Will you get to the point … what is it we are selling here, anyway.
Gregor: We’re selling Best Friend, the fresh, organic dog chow, the pet food that you keep fresh in the refrigerator.
Del: Is this the dog food that costs more than Kobe beef?
Greg: Is money important when it comes to your best friend, Del? No sir,
Del: You sound like my wife. Whenever I complain about the cost of something, she says “What are you saving it for, the worms?”
Greg: She’s got a point. Porky gives you love … don’t you want to give a little back?
Del: Is overpriced dog food the only way to do that?
Greg: Don’t you also do that with the way you groom Porky. (silence) Your Honor, I withdraw the question. (Del and Gregor laugh.) For our listeners, the idea of grooming Porky is akin to putting glitter on a turd. Best Friend Dog Chow …
Del: Fresh, organic, delicious, nutritious … it’s what your Best Friend deserves. Let’s get back to our guest, Darryl Piccus, author of The Wounds of War. Darryl, do you have a dog?
Darryl: I do.
Del: What kind?
Darryl: A Sheep-a-Doodle. She’s one of these “designer dogs.”
Del: Combination Poodle and English Sheep Dog? Must be adorable?
Darryl: She’s the Diva of the Dog Park. Unfortunately, she keeps having these unfortunate encounters with a skunk.
Gregor: Do you feed her Best Friend Organic Dog Chow?
Darryl: Oh yeah, by the truckload. We spend nearly as much on dog food as we spend at the Canine Clippers Grooming Salon. No “saving it for the worms” in our household!
Gregor: Back to our subject … we now have two, maybe three generations of perspective on the Vietnam War. Are we still feeling the impact? Or, is it ancient history??
Darryl: Oh, Vietnam is still relevant, because we still haven’t figured it out?
Del: Hum a few bars of that tune.
Darryl: OK, World War II ends with the Atomic Bomb, the biggest exclamation point you could ask for? What’s the next cataclymic event.
Gregor: I don’t know, the Korean War?
Darryl: No that’s just a … mistake. Big waste of time, energy, and life. But what’s the next big thing from a cultural perspective.
Gregor: The Kennedy assassination?
Darryl: That’s not a cultural thing. It’s cataclysmic, but not cultural … I’d think you’d know this. You’re musicians, right?
Del: Oh, you mean Elvis.
Darryl: Exactly, Elvis comes along and turns the world upside down. Within a couple of years America is unquestionably the world leader in music, film, art, broadcasting … this is a worldwide sea change.
Gregor: Yeah, but was only good for a couple of years, but then came all the schlocky movies and the Las Vegas crap.
Darryl: Exactly, but you see what’s happening. The world’s trying to force him back into the model of success that existed before he arrived on the scene. They tried to make him a cheesy movie star and a nightclub performer, but the world wasn’t having it. Remember what the music world was like in those days? You had a string of Elvis wannabees– Frank Avalon, Fabian, Bobby Rydell, Bobby Darin — and after an initial flush of success they’d get shoved right into the crooner model that the public had already rejected with Elvis. Meanwhile, JFK gets popped off and the political world, which always lags behind the cultural world, spirals into chaos.
Del: So the cultural world leads the way, then politics follows.
Darryl: Right … with music usually at the forefront.
Gregor: Why’s that?
Darryl: The other modes of human communication revolve around storytelling and storytelling revolve around words and language which are cerebral, meaning they rely on the brain for comprehension. Music, though, is a eries of vibrations and intervals and waves of varying lengths. You don’t need no stinkin’ words to communicate. It’s resonating in a part of your brain that words can’t reach.
Del: But you’re a historian. You’re essentially telling “his” “story.” How are you going to do that through music?
Darryl: Let’s reel ourselves back to 1962/63. Political world is scrambled, pop music has descended into the world of schlock … what’s happening, guys?
Gregor: Not sure I know what you’re fishing for. About the only thing I can remember about 1963 and music is that I started playing the guitar.
Darryl: BINGO-O-O!! America starts taking control of its own destiny. The old models of success are dead. As a culture we take a step back to see how we might proceed into the future.
Del: You’re talking the folk music revival?
Darryl: Folk music, roots, Americana, Appalachian, blues, bluegrass … there are all kinds of different branches, but you put them all together and you have a revisionist period taking place in the culture. Remember … I’m a historian. This was setting the stage for what was to be the next big thing.
Gregor: Are you saying, or implying, that Del and I were in some way instrumental in this cultural change?
Darryl: Oh, God no! Don’t flatter yourselves. You remember the Dylan song “Only a Pawn in Their Game?”
Gregor: Yes!
Darryl: You and Del are about ten steps below “pawn.” You were two of zillions, but you were there in the crowd, metaphorically.
Gregor: So, we are insignificant?
Darryl: Then? Yes, but now just the fact that you were in the crowd then makes you more relevant today.
Del: Kind of like saying “I was on of the hundreds of thousands of guys who stormed Normandy Beach on D-Day?”
Darryl: Very analogous situation, except in your case it’s more like a couple of million.
Del: Whaddya think, Gregor? Want to grasp at this straw of glory?
Gregor: Might as well. Keep going with your story, Darryl.
Darryl: So, enter The Beatles, in the midst of the Vietnam War. Suddenly, everything is is in question from a societal point of view. It’s not only policy and international diplomacy. The world changes from “I Want to Hold Your Hand” to “All You Need is Love.” Everything is up for grabs– sexual relationships, social institutions, Democracy. You name it.
Del: You name it, we lived it. Here’s one for you, Professor. After The Beatles, what’s the The Next Big Thing?
Darryl: My position is there is no Next Big Thing. It’s still the Beatles?
Del: What!? It’s been sixty-odd years.
Darryl: Right … and there’s been a Michael Jackson blip, a Nirvana blip, a hip-hop blip, and maybe at the moment a Taylor Swift blip, but it seems like every year at Christmas, the big push is to come up with a Beatles product to satisfy the masses.
Gregor: You got that right, and I’ve bought every one of them.
Darryl: The lynch pin was Dylan. He’s the one who linked the American roots with the pop sensibilities of the British Invasion. You had the Dust Bowl meeting European-style Cabaret. It was magic.
Gregor: “Lynch Pin,” I know what it means, but where does the term come from?
Darryl: It’s the piece the wheel from sliding off the axel, but it’s also the piece that is designed to break before the axel does, so it brings the cart to a halt before the damage is even more devastating.
Del: Weren’t groups like The Rolling Stones and The Yardbirds basically updated blues bands before Dylan hit the scene.
Darryl: Yes, BUT it was Dylan who provided the connection with Bluegrass, country, and the other American traditions.
Del: In-ter-est-ing.
Darryl: (on a roll) But Dylan didn’t do it alone. I’ve always thought that the roll of American groups like The Turtles with It Ain’t Me, Babe and The Byrds with Mr. Tambourine Man were critical crossover groups. You might think of them as the Pat Boones of the ’60s.
Gregor: I don’t think they would want to think of themselves in that way.
Darryl: Let’s not forget … in addition to his social-awareness, protest songs, Dylan also pioneered a new type of long song. Before, the heroes and villains of pop songs were always cast in heroic modes, very two-dimensional in the passion or suffering.
Del: I always think of Roy Orbison in Crying, the poor guy’s heart is being ripped and he suffers in silence while his inner-self is wailing in passion “Oh-oh-over (deep breath) you-u-u-u-!!” (Gregor joins in.)
Darryl: Year, meanwhile the Dylan hero is mumbling “Someone who will die for you and more? … It ain’t me, Babe.”
Del: Yeah, “I’m outta here, just don’t think twice, it’s all right.”
Darryl: Without Dylan there’s no “Nowhere Man,” no “Norwegiian Wood.”
Gregory: I read somewhere that Norwegian Wood is actually a cheap, veneer-type product that the marketers gussied up by calling it Norwegian wood, while it should rightly be called “cheap, imitation crap that’s gives the illusion of being substantial.”
Del: This is fascinating stuff, Darryl, but we’re starting to run short on time. So, you think the world has basically been in a holding pattern since The Beatles? So, for how long?
Darryl: No one knows. For a while I thought the personal computer was the next big thing, then the smart phone, but eventually I came to realize that the smart phone is just the transistor radio brought into a new dimension. At the moment there’s a Bad Bunny groundswell happening. Ask me in about five years if he’s the next big thing?
Gregor: Are we sure the next Big Thing is actually coming, or could we be in a hundred year holding pattern?
Darryl: I don’t think so. One thing we know for sure, history repeats itself, and one thing we’ve seen consistently is that before the Culture (with a capital C) takes the big step forward, it takes a step back, and I think that’s already happening.
Gregor: We’re all ears …
Darryl: It’s happening right here!
Gregor: On this planet? In this country” What do you mean it’s happening right here?
Darryl: I mean right here! In this studio! I mean today! (silence) Think of it, guys. You are two of ga-zillions who pick up guitars in the wake of The Beatles. While others die off, become responsible members of society, give up or whatever, you two stick with it … for decades. You get no money, no recognition, no nothing, but you keep doing it. You keep playing music, and you keep the flame alive. You’re not the only ones, but you’re among the survivors. Then, when lightning strikes, and it always takes a lightning strike, you’re uniquely positioned to take advantage. That’s why you are the ones shilling for adult diapers and erectile dysfunction drugs while others are strumming on the back porch.
Del: So … let me make sure I’m hearing you correctly … Gregor and I are the Step Back?
Darryl: That’s how I see it.
Gregor: I’m speechless. I need to absorb this. Meanwhile we’re outta time–
Del: Literally and figuratively —
Gregor: Thank you, Darryl Piccus, for sharing some very interesting thoughts. And now … I can’t believe this. Del, we’re got to sell something …
Del: How about feathers, because right now you could knock me over with one of those? Well, like the true professionals that we are, we’re moving onward. Gregor did you ever want a Sting Ray?
Gregor: You mean the sports car? Maybe for a while in the ’50s or early ’60s. By the time I was old enough to drive, I’d have preferred a hippie van.
Del: Yeah, something that we could haul around the band equipment in. Any way, most of us can define our lives by the vehicles we’ve owned– the VW Beetle, the used Volvo, the Mini-Van, the SUV, and now Cadillac has introduced the wheels that can take you in safety and comfort right up to the pearly gates. Introducing the Goldster …
Gregor: Have you seen one of these things?
Del: Only pictures.
Gregor: They’re amazing. They’ve got a little bad boy styling, a little like the PT Cruiser, but they come in array of soft colors that SHE will enjoy. And you know who I mean by SHE?
Del: The 30 year old mistress with the Bridget Bardot body?
Gregor: No, silly boy, I mean your wife, ‘Sythia, or my Cassandra. Getting in is easy, with front bucket power seats that rotate a full 90 degrees so you can just plop yourself down and press a button. A few seconds later you are behind the wheel. Inside you are swaddled in a steel cocoon with 18 airbags ready. With all-wheel drive, built-in lane violation and collision warnings. Plus, a communications that features rotational controls. You know what that means>
Del: I haven’t a clue.
Gregor: It means when you want to “Crank it up to 11” you actually turn the volume control to the right.
Del: What will they think of next.
Gregor: Instead of “State of the Art” I call it “State of the Fart,” as in Old Fart.
Del: The Cadillac Goldster must cost a King’s ransom!
Gregor: But with Cadillac’s Limbo Lease, the payments will only be a nibble on your Social Security payment.
Del: What’s a Limbo Lease?
Gregor: A Limbo Lease is one that tests the limits of “how low you can go.” It’s a reverse-graduated 12 year lease where you use only your current trade-in as the down payment.
Del: 12 years? Who knows if I’ll even be alive, let alone driving a car.
Gregor: That’s the beauty of a Limbo Lease. It’s weighted towards the later years, so that if you kick the bucket or have a stroke and can’t drive any longer, it’s costing you less money.
Del: There’s actually some logic to that.
Gregor: Cassandra’s actually picked out the color of our Goldster, SnowMelt. It’s kind of a pale green that you see in the streams and rivers during Mud Season.
Del: Not the color I would choose, but … Is Cadillac giving you a deal on your Goldster?
Gregor: They say they are, but the way it’s all figured in on the lease, I can’t understand it. It’s banker-talk and I speak lawyer-talk.
Del: And I speak guitarist-talk, so I wouldn’t understand anyway. I’ve got over 200,000 miles on my Toyota Corolla, and I’m just going to drive it into the ground.
Gregor: I wonder who will get there first … you or the car. Say “Goodnight,” Del.
Del: Goodnight, Del.