Reuniting With The Levy Boys Thirty Years Later

A long time ago in a place far away, I lived in the kingdom of Hawaii with my parents, my mom Janet and her husband Chuck.

My dad, (or rather my step dad Chuck) was stationed there as a Coastie at Barbers Point Naval Air Station. At that time I thought Chuck was a real bastard, but i've since come to love him like a father.

Anyway, I was all of thirteen years old at the time.

And my best friends were a bunch of wanna-be thirteen year old hippies who used to get together between classes underneath this big tree at Campbell High, smoke a whole lot of cigarettes (and other things), and generally bond through our love of the psychedelic music of the time.
We called ourselves "the group." And my best friends at the time were the Levy boys -- Mike and Pat. Tonight, I reunited with Pat (who was my actual best friend back then), along with Mike (who I've actually kept in contact with through e-mail).

It was the first time I've seen Pat in 35 years. The picture above was taken tonight at the reunion (I'm the guy in the middle).

Anyway... about "The Group." No, we weren't exactly the sort of misfit goth kids you'd expect nowadays. There was no black eye shadow, and no Marilyn Manson back then. But there was the sixties, there were hippies, there was Nixon, there was Vietnam and the generation gap, and there were psychedelic rock bands like the Jefferson Airplane.
God, how us kids loved the Airplane.

Me and Pat were thirteen years old when we went to their concert at the Civic Auditorium in Honolulu, and I'm sure we scared the living shit out of our parents when we didn't emerge from the concert until about an hour after they came to pick us up.

You see me and Pat were busy hanging out backstage meeting the Airplane. So if you ever wandered where I got my balls about meeting, interviewing, and working with rock bands...well, look no further. When Marty Balin bummed cigs from a thirteen year old kid backsatge at the Civic, I more or less figured out that these guys -- great music and all -- were still just people.

But I'll tell you what. Those guys (not just the Airplane, but my friends back then as well) not only got me through a very difficult period of my life -- you know, the growing up, spouting pubic hair, and generally figuring out who you actually are. They also had a very great deal to do with who I actually became as an adult.

If only our parents knew the half of it.

In addition to all of the dope smoking and psychedelic music, we also skipped school half the time to go hang out in this idyllic place behind Campbell High called "the Valley".

You had to be there to experience it.

It was this beautiful place we discovered by accident behind the school where a stream ran through this valley surrounded by thick trees, and apparently abundant marijuana plants (as we discovered one day when we tried to start a fire and breathed in the fumes).

I also lost my virginity at thirteen there to a girl named Wendy (betcha didn't know that, Pat).

Anyway, I've thought of those times often over the years.

I've thought of Pat and Mike Levy, as well as other long lost friends from back then like Don Reidel (this great guy who used to steal his parents Belair Cigarettes for us to smoke, and who, at thirteen also walked with a limp).

And then there was Pat Korry (who both Pat Levy and I had mad crushes on, but were too young and naive at the time to do much about....well, hey wait a minute...I actually did sort of date her for a minute didn't I?)

Again, I was too young and insecure to close the deal though. Damn it all!

That's Pat now you see in the picture above (we recently re-established contact, but she is now happily married...double damn!).

Anyway, everything back then came down to those precious few minutes under the big tree at Campbell high where we smoked our cigs. After 30 some odd years, I recently re-established e-mail contact with Pat Korry (now Appel).
Pat supplied the picture of that tree at Campbell you see here.

Anyway, long story short. Me ands the Levy Boys had a reunion tonight. I wish the circumstances were better. Mike's got cancer. Pat's in town as a bone marrow donor. Mike's chances of recovery are excellent, and I'm praying for him. But it was great seeing the both of them and reliving some great memories.

For better or for worse, those Levy bastards helped make me who I am. God bless them, and please pray for Mike.