Stuck in a Sixties Groove

by Eva Pasco, author of "Underlying Notes"

The stylus on those record players had a tendency to get stuck in a groove on 45-rpm singles or 33 1/3-rpm LP’s. Seems the passage of time warps vinyl as well as our recollection of the Sixties. Though, I embrace a fascination for the decade I grew up in, I don’t long for the groovy old days spanning 1960 – 1969, though the complexity of the “cultural decade” tie dyed 1963 – 1975.  

Stuck in my mind are recollections of: 

The Cold War –The threat of nuclear annihilation from the  Soviet Union cast a palpable mushroom cloud over my adolescent horizon. I wanted my parents to convert our basement into a fallout shelter. 

The Cuban Missile Crisis –A near military confrontation between the U.S. and the Soviet Union over the presence of Soviet missiles in Cuba, burdened my mind as I watched this play out on our black-and-white set. Only eleven years old, I processed what I needed to know—it was bad!  

Assassinations – I can give a narrative account of November 22, 1963, the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated, and did so in one of my earlier memoirs “The Zapruder Effect.” I also remember with vivid detail, the follow-up assassinations of Robert F. Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Civil Rights – Downright ugliness reared its head in America, the land of the free, as African Americans bucked legal segregation –Jim Crow laws discriminating against “color” in public facilities. Even peaceful methods of protest in the form of boycotts, sit-ins, and freedom rides cannot erase atrocities perpetrated by the Ku Klux Klan or the rise of Black Power.  

The Vietnam War – The Draft heated controversy during one of our country’s unpopular wars. Conscientious objectors and draft dodgers, along with protestors mouthing the slogan, “If you’re old enough to die for your country, you’re old enough to vote” tainted America’s paintings of  Rockwell Norms.  

So, what is it about the Sixties that prompts those of my generation to wax nostalgia? Not all of us tripped on psychedelics, burned our bras, trekked to Woodstock, had a smooth ride in high school negotiating the mine fields of jocks or punks in leather jackets.  Maybe it was Apollo 11’s lunar landing—one small step for man; one giant step for mankind.  Perhaps it was the British Invasion led by the Beatles in 1964, influencing our taste in music.  Naaaah—can’t be.    Maybe it was the last frontier for the nuclear family gathered around the set watching The Ed Sullivan Show every Sunday night.  Perchance we’re fixated on passing the gravy to pour inside grooves of our mashed potatoes while everyone sat at their place around the dining room table sharing exploits of the day.  Now, that’s a Sixties groove worth getting stuck in.  

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