I am growing old with Garrison Keillor, John Irving, Angie Dickinson, Sting.
I am growing old with Dick Van Dyke, Mel Brooks, Meryl Streep, Jack Nicholson, Steven Spielberg, Jeff Bridges.
I am growing old with Springsteen, Dylan, Bob Seger, Joni Mitchell, Wynton Marsalis, Barbra Streisand … all my heroes, all the greats.
Thanks, everyone. Props for hanging around — ’taint easy sometimes, life’s time clock spares no one.
I myself am reaching the age where I have more doctors than friends, more meds than martinis. My kids keep asking: “Dad, is the trust up to date? Where’s the title for the car? Dad? Dad? Dad?”
It’s touching, really.
But, as I turn 69 this week, I remain gifted with heroes. The nights are cooling, so I layer up with them, use my heroes for warmth: Carole King, Paul Simon, Dolly Parton, James Taylor, Paul McCartney, Ringo and most of the Rolling Stones.
As someone wondered recently: “Are recreational drugs actually good for you?” That’d be an emphatic no, though how else do you explain Keith Richards?
In the meantime, I am growing old with Joe Namath, Michael Jordan, Billy Jean King, Al Michaels, Jack Nicklaus, Ronnie Lott, Joe Montana, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson. Hanks and Costner too.
These days, it’s so easy to get nostalgic … kind of a crutch, a whisky neat on a rainy night. Watch yourself with the sentiment or suddenly you’re this little stooge, prowling old bookstores for first editions of “Jane Eyre.”
Me, I try to lean into new stuff, as abhorrent as it often is. I mean, have you seen what they’ve done to network TV? Do you even remember good movies? FYI, October finished as the worst month in three decades. As they say in politics, throw the bums out.
What I will admit is how lucky we were to grow up when we did. That goes for everybody, now or 70 years ago. I’m serious.
Are you aware of all this K-Pop Demon Hunters stuff? It involves a Korean boy band that hunts demons to protect their fans. Genius, right? Wrong. Yet my 4-year-old granddaughter believes in them the way we once believed in the Monkees and the Moody Blues.
My granddaughter also lives in the era of the tush push, mushroom coffee, self-driving taxis, endless replay reviews and Tik-Tok.
As I’ve said before, we live in fascinating times. Make them stop!
Now, we Boomers could make a solid claim for having grown up amid the greatest music of all time, a sort of renaissance the likes of which we’ll never see again.
If right now is the golden era of greed and bad taste — and you could certainly argue that — the ’60s and ’70s were the golden age of popular music.
That carried over to movies too, the remarkable must-see movies of the ’60s and ’70s rivaled the groundbreaking music of that era. There was a swashbuckling sense of revolution, of flipping everything on its ear.
But there wasn’t just bitterness and disenchantment — that gets old pretty fast. There was hope and heart. That’s how artists dealt with the frustrations of the moment. They dug deep for these little truths, the tiny heartaches.
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for your senses to grow sharper,” said Yeats.
I’m waiting, sir. I’m waiting….
Look, this is a love note, not a trip down memory lane. You can get lost there, and a little depressed over Now vs. Then.
And I’ll tell you what, I grew up back in northern Illinois, surrounded by frosted corn stubble and rusty Fords. I didn’t get to grow up with The Observatory or the Hollywood Bowl. I didn’t grow up with four major theme parks within a two-hour drive.
I didn’t grow up with the most magnificent ocean in the world, with woody wagons, long boards strapped to the tops like skiffs.
Bonfires. Beaches. Bikinis. Repeat.
See, there will always be these touchstones. It will always be someone’s good old days, Demon Hunters and otherwise.
When I visit my hometown of Chicago, I find it better than ever. They swim and kayak in the Chicago River now, which you never did before. When I was growing up, the river was a layer of flammable licorice. You could start campfires with it.
So take a little stock in the cleaner oceans, the rivers, the bald eagles that now roost in the trees on the edges of suburbs.
And take stock that you’re growing old with your heroes, not just for what they were. But for what they still represent today.
Bill Murray, Steve Martin, Alan Alda, Jerry Seinfeld, Martin Short….
Props to the folks who supported the Literary Feasts held across Los Angeles on Sunday evening. The book events, featuring dozens of authors, raised millions for the Library Foundation of Los Angeles. Thank you to Mary Ann Hunt and Eric Jacobsen for opening up their beautiful home to us and staging such an elegant and memorable evening.
Love this – all so true! I tried to send it to my email, and didn’t work, because I too am over 70!
You make an excellent case for the artistry we were blessed to experience in the 60s and 70s. As you said in your comment before, I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up in any other time. I feel blessed that you are here to remind us of those great days, as well as balancing it with an appreciation of all the good things we still get to enjoy now. Like, how about those Dodgers?
Happy birthday! I have such an appreciation for the gift of your words. Thank you for always sharing with us. This walk down memory lane was a reminder of how thankful I am for the “good old days”. May the year ahead for you be filled with an abundance of joy, laughter and love.
What a lovely note, Lisa. Thank you!
PS, OH gosh, almost forgot: Happy Birthday 🎂 and many more to come, Chris!
Thanks Caroll!
“Now, we Boomers could make a solid claim for having grown up amid the greatest music of all time, a sort of renaissance the likes of which we’ll never see again.”
If nothing else, Motown. One great Motown song after another back then. We were blessed to be around then. But the old songs are still here. Just pop in a CD and enjoy. They’re as good as ever.
Yep, Motown alone put today’s music to shame.
Chicago – my kinda town…literally, not figuratively. Lived at 4800 N. Sawyer. Real kosher dogs with mustard, onions & relish. Jewish neighborhood, so great food. Especially the Chinese cuisine. Have lived in LA since 1960 and STILL haven’t found a Chinese restaurant as good as the one we left on the near north side!! Don’t get me wrong, I love L.A. (the city and the song), but there will always be a special place in my heart for the Windy City!
Chicago a far better city. California a far better state. That’s my take, at least, and the reason I stick around.
Yep, we were blessed, not only by the times but by the location: Close enough to Chicago to feel like “big city” residents (my drivers ed instructor had us drive to O’Hare for “experience”) but living in a small town to revel in that closeness…..
Happy birthday! I am staring down 70 in just two weeks….yikes!
Hey, Happy Birthday Pete. So many good things ahead. Cheers!
Besides being nostalgic for better music and movies, I’m also nostalgic for the stores that no longer exist. I worked at Marshall Fields four different times, for short periods of time. Still my favorite job(s) and place to shop. Be sure to catch the PBS special that came out recently:
https://www.pbs.org/video/marshall-fields-flogbt/
I really enjoy your blog, and your column when you were with the Chicago Tribune.
I miss Fields as well. Chicago doesn’t seem like Chicago without it.
Happy 69th. I hit 70 last month. It’s 40+ years since the days at the Times-Picayune. Those were the days, my friend.
Those were good times — mostly. Glad it happened, even more glad I got out of there. But sure do miss New Orleans.
and don’t forget Mickey Mouse ~ also turning 70 I believe ~ ~ and my turn comes in january ~ when I am saying I will be halfway to 140 ! ! cheers Chris ~ carry on ~ ~
Happy birthday. At least you don’t have to worry about dying young anymore. (got that from a birthday card).
I suspect that those of us reading the litany of our musical and other pop cultural heroes, felt almost as good reading it as you did in putting them into your column. Yes, I’m old enough now to have lived through, and worked in, several eras of popular music, and I would agree, with no disrespect for the Great American Songbook, we did have great writers penning great songs. Thanks for reminding us just deep it went.
Kenny, and we are lucky to have had you throwing such a beautiful spotlight on them throughout your career.
This so spoke to me!!!! Very well put, as always:)
Happy birthday, Chris!
Happy birthday Chris, you young man. I am 77 and still going strong. I wake up every morning, read the obituaries in the Times, and if my name is not in there, it is a good day. So I get up and go to my office to resume my career as a practicing trial lawyer. And yes, I am thrilled we grew up when we did. Pre covid, school shootings, and all the maladies in the present world. I have a few over 100 year old relatives in my family tree, so I intend to be around for another 30 years or so. And I look forward to reading your wonderful commentaries that remind me of Jim Murray and those other writers and actors no longer with us.
Mr. Gross, thank you for the delightful letter. Here’s to all the smiles we’ll share together and the cases you’ll win.
Best, Chris
…all public figures without substantial stain or behavioral blemish, all entertainers one way or another, all durable physically–some with great retained physical beauty, all durable sources of creative artistry or achievement, all idiosyncratically talented one way or another, all recognizable by a wide swath of a contemporary generation, all emotionally and thus nostalgically impactive. still, when I think of heroes or heroines–someone I would want to be or be like in some ways, I think of my grandmother…and I grow old with the remembrance of her multi-dimensional beauties….heroine heat for a cool autumn night.