<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835</id><updated>2011-12-14T19:04:08.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock n Roll Memories</title><subtitle type='html'>I was There!

Here's how I Remember it.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113623155358888642</id><published>2006-01-02T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T12:33:45.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Piece of Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/1600/mamaspapas.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/200/mamaspapas.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my first cruise on my first ship. We were docked in Genoa, Italy and I was wandering on my own, a seventeen-year-old trying to take in the sights of a huge foreign city. I knew only a handful of Italian words (hi, bye, good morning, good evening—that was about it!), none of which were of much help once I discovered I was completely lost. Before that realization set in, however, I stopped off at a little bar to rest my feet. I ordered a Coke (that was the same in Italian) and looked over the offerings in the jukebox. Despite the fact that I was half way around the world from home, I recognized many of the songs. Most of them were old Elvis classics and hits from the 50s. Imagine my surprise. The song that got my lira, though, was &lt;em&gt;California Dreamin’&lt;/em&gt;. I dropped in the coin, punched the numbers and sat at a nearby table sipping warm Coke and listening to the Mamas and the Papas. It was an indescribably weird feeling. I had been walking around for hours, unable to understand anything anyone around me was saying and incapable of reading the billboards, signs, and newspapers scattered about, but here was this song that I had known from childhood emanating from the jukebox. As I listened, I wondered how the song sounded to the others in the bar who likely spoke little English and had never been to California. I’ll never know, nor will I ever forget that little piece of home I found while lost so far from the foothills of Mt. Spokane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113623155358888642?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113623155358888642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113623155358888642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113623155358888642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113623155358888642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2006/01/piece-of-home.html' title='A Piece of Home'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113601000307996796</id><published>2005-12-30T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T22:24:53.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frampton Comes Alive</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/1600/frampton.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/200/frampton.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a balmy summer night in Portland, Oregon. A friend and I had been roller skating and were hitch-hiking home. We were tired and walking more than riding. Then my friend's face lit up. A tricked-out bug slowed up and stopped. It was someone he knew. As we opened the door, the music blasted past us. His friend was grinning broadly and said (I think. The music was so loud I probably just read his lips), "Have you heard this, yet?" I hadn't, but I sure liked it. It was "Frampton Comes Alive!," and it sounded hot! We got home faster than I would have liked, as I found myself mesmerized by the music. From that point on, for the whole summer, every party I went to played the same album. For just that same time I thought Peter Frampton must have been the best guitarist in the world. And, of course, he is good. But for the summer of '76 I couldn't imagine anyone better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113601000307996796?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113601000307996796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113601000307996796&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113601000307996796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113601000307996796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2005/12/frampton-comes-alive.html' title='Frampton Comes Alive'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113584105737388185</id><published>2005-12-28T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-28T23:27:25.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Cassette</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/1600/neilD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" height="194" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/320/neilD.jpg" width="175" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Confirmed Neil Diamond Fan from Way Back&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was maybe ten, eleven at the most. A friend had an old cassette player (heavy, grungy, metal, with just a single speaker) that he sold to me for about $15. I thought I was living large! I was an AM radio addict (KJRB in Spokane), and now I had the ability to record the songs I liked. Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the thing home and put batteries in it and discovered that he had included an old tape in the deal. It was Neil Diamond (Greatest Hits, I believe). It had Hanky Panky (which kind of embarrassed me) and Red, Red, Wine (which kinda scared me) on it. But I really dug Solitary Man and Kentucky Woman. From that point forward, I was hooked. I have been a Neil Diamond fan ever since (yeah I'll admit it, it's been almost 35 years!). In fact, when I picked up the guitar a few years ago, it was Solitary Man that I learned first!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113584105737388185?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113584105737388185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113584105737388185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113584105737388185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113584105737388185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-first-cassette.html' title='My First Cassette'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113505829970249992</id><published>2005-12-19T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T22:29:04.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, Yeah, Yeah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/1600/beatles2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/200/beatles2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child of the sixties, the Beatles were a natural part of my life’s soundtrack. I have a distinct memory of being a 5 year old running around the yard shooting my squirt gun. When I returned to the patio to refill, I was asked by my parents, “What do the Beatles say?” I responded, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” which was met with much laughter. For the adults, the Beatles were an oddity--one of those strange fads that captured the kids’ usually short attention spans. For kids like me, they defined the sound of our generation. I was in my early teens (a few years after the split) before it dawned on me that rock would continue without them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113505829970249992?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113505829970249992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113505829970249992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113505829970249992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113505829970249992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2005/12/yeah-yeah-yeah.html' title='Yeah, Yeah, Yeah'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113497883374244129</id><published>2005-12-18T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T12:00:39.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rare Earth Concert</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/1600/rareearth.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7949/1065/200/rareearth.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first rock concert was Rare Earth at the Spokane Coliseum in 1973 (I believe). After the opening act played the house lights came up and I thought the show was over. I was a bit disappointed because I hadn't recognized any of the songs, but it was awfully exciting. I asked my friend if it was time to go and he looked at me like I was an idiot. When Rare Earth took the stage it was magical! They sounded just like they did on the 45s I had inherited from my older sister's record collection. Especially "Hey Big Brother!" The "Get Ready" drum solo was so cool. I couldn't have been more than 20 feet from the stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never seen speakers as huge as they had on the sides of the stage. I remember one guy was sitting on the stage in front of a speaker that towered twice as tall as him. I wonder if he wears a hearing aid today (he's probably in his 50s :-).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113497883374244129?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113497883374244129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113497883374244129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113497883374244129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113497883374244129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2005/12/rare-earth-concert.html' title='Rare Earth Concert'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19961835.post-113486523081008075</id><published>2005-12-17T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T13:03:40.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock N Roll Memories Begins</title><content type='html'>What was I doing and what was going on when I first heard classic rock songs? That's what this blog's about. I'll be sharing memories and trivia for the fun of walking down memory lane. Feel free to comment on the posts, I'd enjoy hearing your memories about these songs, albums, groups, concerts, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rock on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19961835-113486523081008075?l=rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/113486523081008075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19961835&amp;postID=113486523081008075&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113486523081008075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19961835/posts/default/113486523081008075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rocknrollmemories.blogspot.com/2005/12/rock-n-roll-memories-begins.html' title='Rock N Roll Memories Begins'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
