New Bob

As we wrapped up our regular weekly rehearsal on a Tuesday night last April, Bob Greaves leaned back in his chair and told us in a cool, matter-of-fact manner that he would be leaving the band as of July 31st. I felt as though we had been struck by a bomb - no fiery explosion, but the smoky aftermath where I'm left to look around and think what the hell just happened? It had to be a joke. Or I had somehow misunderstood. Could he really be willing to walk away after all the work we had put into this project over the past three years? We had been more than a band. We were a family. This was as if dad had waited until the dinner plates were scraped clean to tell us that he was leaving home to live with a girlfriend who we didn’t know existed. During the next few months Phil, Mike and I went through the normal stages of grieving: denial (especially Phil, who had several subsequent conversations with Bob and who just couldn’t seem to let go) and anger (especially me, I was pissed) followed by acceptance (me again - I tend to get things off my chest and move on).

Unsure whether we should go on or break up, I put the word out that we were looking for a new lead guitarist. The response was underwhelming. However, after a couple of auditions, we found someone with potential to be a good fit for the group, - over 50, familiar with 60s music, competent player, acceptable personality. So we asked him to join. After our second rehearsal, he e-mailed me to say he was leaving. Too much stress, too much new material to learn, too many outside distractions. We re-opened auditions. A week or two later, I received another e-mail from this guy. “Have you found anyone yet?” He was interested again, so we brought him back for the next rehearsal. A few days later, a third e-mail announcing another change of mind - he was out. Again. (He would write once more to ask if I would consider having him back for round three, but I politely refused).

Two more auditions would follow. In the meantime I had to find someone to cover for an upcoming performance at the Chris Thater Memorial, a nationally recognized bike race and DWI awareness benefit held each year at Binghamton's Rec Park. I called my former guitar teacher, Bob Becker, and he agreed to sit in for the event. After our first couple of practice sessions with him, we knew we had found the right match. We asked Bob Becker to join the band but we could not convince him to commit.

After the Rec Park job was over, he surprised me (pleasantly) by agreeing to take over as Reprise 60s' new lead guitarist. We’ve been rehearsing for several weeks now and Phil, Mike and I are extremely happy with our new sound.

But there's bonus we hadn't anticipated when we began our search. We can slip up and call "new" Bob by our former guitarist's name and he won't even notice.

"Beatles" Make the Grade at Elementary School

The audience would be made up of five- to ten-year-olds. The Beatles had been broken up for more than four decades. What could these kids know about the sixties and the music that continues to have such a significant influence on my life?

An office worker buzzed us in at the door and directed us to the auditorium. As we began loading in our gear, a teacher pointed out colorful drawings that lined the walls on each side of the stage. The common theme shared by the handmade images and letters stood as evidence that the young students at this school had been introduced to the legacy of John, Paul, George and Ringo, and, judging by the artwork on display, the response was enthusiastic.

The entire student body had been studying a different country each week during the school year. We had been invited on the final day of “England Week” to perform an hour-long all-Beatles concert.

After we were set up, with instruments tuned and sound check completed, an egress door opened with a metallic clunk that echoed through the empty hall. They entered silently and in a practiced formation, like miniature foot soldiers. Led by the smallest, and presumably the youngest, they filed along the back of the room. Left turn, down the middle aisle. Another left and along the first row, where they began dropping into their seats like falling dominoes. The rows fill up from front to back, left to right, then right to left, until everyone was settled.

They watched us patiently as their principal stepped up to the mic and welcomed us. We broke into our first song, "Thank You Girl." They were quiet, attentive, and when the song ended, they applauded politely, like adults obligated to sit through an elementary school play. The irony was unsettling.

I introduced our “Ed Sullivan Set," consisting of the first three songs that the Beatles performed during their earliest live US television appearance in 1964. “The kids in the audience were screaming and cheering and going wild,” I said. No reaction from our audience. So I repeated myself, this time with just a bit more force: “I said, ‘the kids were screaming and cheering and going wild.’”

And the auditorium erupted, as if our students had been waiting for permission to cut loose and have a good time.

Permission granted.

For the next 50 minutes, they whooped and squealed and danced in their seats. During the slower numbers, a group of eight to ten stood up, raised their arms in the air and swayed back and forth in unison.

Between songs, I mixed in brief Beatles history lessons, but I soon realized that they had already covered much of this material in the classroom. I held up a vinyl record. “Does anyone recognize this?”

“A 45,” someone shouted.

Right.

“Before iPods and mp3s we used to put one of these on a turntable, drop a special needle into grooves on the 45 and we would hear one three minute song. Then we would have to flip the 45 in over to play a second song. The A-side, and..."

“The B-side!” someone else yelled out as I turned the vintage black disc over in my hand.

So much for my lessons.

After the concert ended, we slipped out the stage door and waited in the hallway. As the students exited the auditorium and headed back to the classroom, they each slapped our outstretched hands. After 80 or more smacks, my hand was stinging. But my spirits were soaring.

Even though these young music fans were born about 30 years too late to have experienced Beatlemania for themselves, they were outwardly appreciative of our efforts, and we were grateful for the opportunity to provide just a small sample of what they missed.

"Old Songs, New Life"

Last September, our name - Reprise 60s - showed up on Alexander Bumsted’s T-shirt in the syndicated comic strip, Blondie. Now we’re going to be featured in a forthcoming book in the bestselling Chicken Soup for the Soul series.

My essay, “Old Songs, New Life”, describes how starting a rock band saved me during a difficult time in my life. I had just lost my job of nearly two decades. I was old - very old - by hiring standards, yet a long way from a comfortable retirement. A documentary film and video producer, my job skills were specialized and not in very high demand with most employers. My wife was working, but my salary had made up the majority of our household income. We were facing hard times, and we still are. I had begun to lose all sense of self-worth and hope for the future.

The band changed all that. Making music with my friends, entertaining an audience, providing the energy source in a roomful of happy people as they dance, tap their feet, sing along - these accomplishments made me feel productive again, like I could still part of something meaningful. So I decided to write about my circumstances, and to maybe offer some encouragement to others who are experiencing similar difficulties during these particularly hard times. This is not my first Chicken Soup story - a few years ago my essay titled “After Dooley” was published in Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover’s Soul. I enjoy the books, I was familiar with what publishers are looking for in a story, and I had a positive history with the editorial staff. So I submitted “Old Songs, New Life” and it was accepted. The book - Chicken Soup for the Soul: Young at Heart - will be out in September, 2011.

Although we relish the national exposure for the Reprise 60s name, what we really need now is local publicity. A writer for the Binghamton Press and Sun-Bulletin, our local daily newspaper, did a feature story when “After Dooley” was published, including a nice photo of my wife, me, and our two dogs. I’m hoping the same writer will be willing to do a piece on the band and “Old Songs, New Life” as the publication date draws near.