Eat A Peach

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Another beautiful day in the mountains with temps reaching up into the ’70’s. Of course, if it’s 70 now, the 80 degree temperatures can’t be far off. I have a self imposed rule about working outside when the temperature gets up in the ’80’s. I don’t do it. When the temperature hits 85 or so, I’m done for the day. I refuse to give my neighbors the opportunity to watch me stroke out in the heat of the day. It’s just not dignified.

So I took the opportunity today to catch up on a “Honey Do” item from my list. My list could alternately be used as a yard stick, if a yard stick were not handy. I’m not saying my list is long, I’m just saying that if there is a “hereafter”, I’ll have plenty to do for the duration. My task today was to clear up the storeroom in the Rec room. Sounds simple enough, right?

My directions are that all items are to be placed into two piles, we’ll call then “trash” and “treasures” for now, and then those items will be further sorted by Mulva. Mulva’s discerning eye will be looking for those “treasures” that can be donated to The Full Gospel Original Church of God’s raffle. I can not get into the wisdom of folks that will take junk from one spot, raffle it off to folks, who will take it home and then create a new junk pile at their house. My brain delights in the possible scenarios of items that I’m picking going off to new owners, changing hands a dozen times, only to be repurchased by Mulva a decade from now to return back here to TackyToo.

I’m really enjoying my little “Twilight Zone” episode in my head when I happen across something of real value. Up in the far corner of the storeroom, I uncover two plastic racks filled with cassette tapes from the ’70’s. OMG!, OMG!, OMG! All work is suspended until I can find my Walkman and fill it with batteries. Where do I start? I mean, I am a collector with a very discriminating nature. I’ve got The Who, George Harrison, Richie Havens, Elton John and Meat Loaf. I’ve even got the “Best of The Ventures” which would probably require a lot of explaining to people under sixty. Where do I start my odyssey back to a time, that, while it might not have been a “more simple time”, sure as heck had a better soundtrack to it?

Well, work can’t stop because I’ve stepped through a time portal, so I decide to get the concert started with “Eat a Peach” by the Allman Brothers. They’ve always been my favorites anyway. One of the reasons for my undying love of the Allman Brothers is that they got the ball rolling with free concerts in Piedmont Park in Atlanta in the early ’70’s. Let me qualify. I do not add points to their music because of their free concerts, I add the points earned for the free concerts to their souls. Their music stands alone at the top of the Southern Rock charts for me.

Since I’ve stepped through this time portal, let me recount that during the ’70’s, Atlanta was the second coolest place in America to be. Only Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco had a higher population of flower children. Cruising down Peachtree Street from 10th Street to 14th Street was the place where you could let “your freak flag fly”, and not be out of place. Setting up free concerts in Piedmont Park was not only a cool thing to do, but marketing genius. Soon other bands like “The Marshall Tucker Band” and “Wet Willie” were joining in the fun. The crowds became huge, but were never out of control. I can not recall any incidences of violence at any of the concerts I attended. I would hope that if something like this were even possible today, that the followers of the music would act as respectively as we “dirty hippies” did, back in the day.

Well, I’ve got a spring in my step as I boogie through, “One Way Out“, “Little Martha“, and, “Mountain Jam“. I know these cassettes are going somewhere safe until I can get them converted to CD’s. By safe, I don’t mean the “treasure” pile. The Full Gospel Original Church of God’s raffle will have to get by without my memories to fill their coffers. By the way, ever wonder what Piedmont Park looked like with ten thousand people who weren’t there for the Peachtree Road Race? Take a look at this photo taken by Butch Trucks, drummer from the Allman Brothers Band. I borrowed it from his blog.


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