MCMLXIV

The other night I watched the American Experience about the year 1964. Those pivotal 365 days affected everything from human rights, to the counter culture, to political activism.  I turned 10 that year. Because of my penchant for the history of that period, I know much of what the show described.  But, it got me thinking. How aware was I of those momentous events at that time?

LBJ signs Civil Rights Act of 1964

Not much, really. Television's cathode ray tube was my lodestone. The program aired two of LBJ's televised addresses to the nation. I remember them both vividly. Not because of their historic importance, but because they interrupted my favorite shows. I don't specifically remember which ones, but the disappointment kindled my dislike of politics. In later years, that dislike was exacerbated by dishonesty and demagoguery, but I diametrically digress.


What a year it was for TV. Bewitched, Jonny Quest, The Addam's Family, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea debuted. Just to name a few. It was also the first year for Jeopardy. My love of the program grew from antics of Art Fleming to the current Alex Trebek iteration. Daytime Jeopardy ran through 1975. During my first attempt at college, I made sure the class schedule allowed me to watch it every day.

Two memories of 1964 are as lucid as if they happened last week - one joyous and one despairing. That year, the World's Fair opened in New York City.  Just 90 miles from my hometown, I visited it twice. Once with the entire family, the other was a trip with Christ the King's altar boys. What I remember most was the Unisphere, the brand new Mustang, and entering my birthday into a computer at the NCR pavilion. In a minute, a list of other events that occurred on that day in history printed. I can still feel the sense of wonder I experienced at the magnitude of the World's Fair.

Something personally significant occurred during that year. While I didn't not become aware of this event until years later, it had a profound effect on my psyche. On my birthday, June 17, 1964, Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters boarded the bus, Further, in La Honda, California on an epic journey East. Their explorations of inner space and the concept of your life as your art affect me to this day.

My most anguished memory of 1964 taught me the pitfalls of being a Philadelphia sports fan. The Phillies had a great team that year. With only 12 games left in the season, the Phillies had a 6 and a half game lead and were virtually assured a spot in the World Series. There was no litany of playoffs in those days. My Dad promised to take me to a World Series game; the tickets had already been printed. My 10-year-old heart soared with the anticipation of going to Connie Mack Stadium and seeing my team in the championship.

The Phillies lost 10 out of those 12 games and the St. Louis Cardinals went to the big dance. I was disconsolate. I don't remember how long I cried, but cry I did. That disappointment branded my soul with the mark of a true Philadelphia fan. No matter how good they look, or play, a Philadelphia team can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

That stigma lasts to the present. The day after the season opener in 2012, I went to the Italian Market in South Philly. The Phillies had won the game 1-0 against the Pirates. Walking along the produce vendors, I overheard two talking. One said, "We won the opener; they say we have a shot at another World Series." The other said, "We beat Pittsburgh by one lousy run. That's it, the season is over!"

With 161 games left, it was already written in the stars. I knew then and there that there would be no joy in Mudville for the Phils. The San Francisco Giants knocked the Phillies out of the playoffs and went on to win the championship. The engram of 1964 blazed in my brain once again. As ever - BB

"The 60s aren't over; they won't be over until the Fat Lady gets high." - Ken Kesey