2 minute read
From the Crates
Blasts from the past for a new year
FROM THE CRATES
Kelly McCoy is a veteran Atlanta broadcaster who writes about the days popular music only came on vinyl records, which often were stored in crates.
Do you remember that “In the year 2525” song by Zager and Evans? Holy decades, folks, it’s nearly here!
Denny Zager and Rick Evans are the real names of these Nebraska dudes who wrote the song and became one-hit wonders in 1969. I’ll let you look up the lyrics. It’s really heavy, weird, and apocalyptic are a few adjectives for starters.
And here’s another blast from our youth. “The Jetsons” was set in 2062, which seems to get closer by the day. That show is now 60 years old! What?!
As we enter this new year, each of us reflects on years prior and those “what was I thinking” moments. The key word is “thinking” or lack thereof in some cases.
One thing about being “experienced,” I know I’ll wake up on Jan. 1 with a clear head and remember everything I did and said the night before. I used to refer to myself as a professional partier. That Eagles song “Life in the Fast Lane” wasn’t too far off as a description for me. New Year's Eve, Fourth of July, Cinco de Mayo, and any other “let’s go out and get wasted” holiday is what we called Amateur Night. Thank the good Lord above that I was never stopped by the people in blue.
Most years I was fine, but like most of us have learned, being impaired for the evening while on the streets is not a smart thing on any level. No one thought about hailing a nasty cab, and Uber and Lyft didn’t exist. We did feel extra special on occasion and get a limo. Stylin’ and profilin’ for sure!
I was a part of a lot of radio events over the years, inviting a few thousand to come and party hearty – and we did. Atlanta was shy of a few hundred thousand in those days. We had events in the streets, Underground Atlanta, hotels, restaurants, and bars… anywhere that could handle us.
Speaking of a party, best wishes to the bawdy, massive crowds braving the elements to stumble around while awaiting the new year. Think of those in Times Square for former Atlantan Ryan Seacrest and “New Year’s Rockin’ Eve,” which he inherited from the late Dick Clark. It’s one of our country’s greatest traditions, but everyone looks like they’re freezing.
Not to get philosophical, but when someone reminds me that I’m old, I tell them I’m pretty happy about that. Quite a few don’t have the pleasure. This life is flying by, isn’t it?
I have no resolutions or serious wisdom to pass along. Well, maybe one: Don’t sweat the petty stuff, and don’t pet the sweaty stuff.
All the best, and I hope 2023 is the best year of your life.
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