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Pine nuts: A Groovy Kind of Love

McAvoy Layne

“A Groovy Kind of Love” is a brand-new song to me in this year of 2025, as I had never heard of “The Mindbenders,” at least not until I landed on a music station that featured music of the 60’s, and wondrously discovered a few of the hits I missed while I was in the Marine Corps. I don’t have to look to the wall in Washington to remember the real losses, but it gave me a lift to hear a few of the singles that were popular while I was gone. The Monkees’ Greatest Hits never made it to Cam Lo, nor did the Supremes, “You Can’t Hurry Love,” not to mention, “96 Tears” by the Mysterians…

No, the only song I remember hearing in thirteen months over there in the Nam was sung by an old Montagnard woman, whose teeth were stained brown from chewing so many betelnuts. I’ll never forget her heavy accent…

“Nine, ten, eleben o’cock, we gonna Cock-a-Doodle-Do!”



Then she smiled a smile that would scare a cat. Well, it was enough to bring a tear to my eye, for it was the first and last music I would hear in thirteen months over there. I wanted to hug her but was afraid she might shoot me.

The first thing I did when I rotated home in ’67 was to thank God, and the next thing I did was to turn on the radio, find some popular ’67 music, and turn it up. That’s when Aretha Franklin stole my heart and stomped it flat. I still listen to, “I Say a Little Prayer,” even today.



And when Aretha got together with Ray Charles, well, that was, and still is, heaven on earth to me.

Nowadays I count on live music to keep me in a good humor, and we have an abundance of it here at the north shore of Lake Tahoe, music from the talented likes of Donna Axton, James Rawie, Susan Horst, Patty Gegenheimer, Linda Pittman, and Mary Collins to mention a few…

As the news director that lies fallow inside of me, I would like to interview Vladimir Putin, and the first question I will ask him will be, “Mr. President, what music do you listen to?”

My guess is he might stare at me for thirty seconds before answering abruptly, “Next question!” And therein lies the problem. World leaders should be required to listen to a half-hour of music a day, their choice, though I would like to squeeze a little Aretha Franklin in there, given the chance. Were we all to listen to half an hour of music a day I have to believe we would be having more block parties and fewer acts of violence in this smoldering world of ours…

In closing, I will stand by my maxim, when it comes to judging the sixties in America, we can feel confident and satisfied in boasting, “We had the best music!”


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