Oct 05, 2008 - 04:05:20 CDT
Once upon a time, in a land that seemed far, far away from Bismarck, I had a dream. Then again, maybe it was just a far-out fairy tale. Here it is:A great hall in a magical city was filled with elders - men and women, tall and short, round and slim, shuffling to and fro, passing carvings of gnarly characters and other strange images.
Soon, people dressed in unusual clothing started playing unfamiliar instruments, and then some sang "Ja, vi elsker dette landet" ("yes, we love this country") - the Norwegian national anthem.
Then a woman wearing her native Nordic clothing, ever so colorful, spoke to the audience. She was Tora Aasland, Norway's minister of research and higher education.
North Dakota's governor, John Hoeven, was also there, looking like a lutefisk out of water in his stately coat and tie. But his attire didn't really matter as most of the oldsters and hipsters in attendance gave him a standing ovation. Alas, Mikey was not to be seen.
Then an important television guy named Chester called the governor a billionaire and asked him to repay $50 he gave Hoeven, so many years ago, so the future governor could obtain leadership training.
Suddenly, one of America's all-time Top-10-ever bands walked on stage to a familiar tune. It could have been the mid-1960s, at least until the dark stage illuminated and there stood an icon - 67½-year-old Michael Edward Love, the only real Beach Boy still in the band. But wait, Love was joined by long-time and familiar Beach Boy Bruce Johnston, along with a backing band of high-quality younger musicians.
With all the aging mamas and papas in the great hall this could have been some sort of California Dreaming dream, but it wasn't even a winter's day - yet.
Then suddenly I awoke and it was all too real. All the happenings were now, right here in North Dakota, in Minot. Still, what was taking place could have been in a Nordic county or 1,700-plus miles away on a Southern California beach, where I grew up with Brian, Carl and Dennis Wilson, Al Jardine and Love.
I didn't really know them back then, but I really "knew" them, if you know what I mean.
At first my memories brought about sadness.
Love wore a Good Vibrations hat, covering his gray hair, and a Hawaiian-like beach shirt. He and Johnston, 66, similarly dressed, looked tired. I almost wanted to cry, not so much that they had lost their youthfulness, but that I wasn't far behind.
Why were they on a Minot, N.D., stage singing songs about California girls, beaches and surfing, and a ported, relieved, stroked and bored little deuce coupe?
What did they have to prove?
Then I noticed my own ridiculously comfortable, bright and hideous-looking, Hawaiian shirt, one of the few in the audience, and I quickly found a way to forget my funk. Two things came to mind.
First: Why not Minot? The Beach Boys have long been known as America's band and Minot, even though only about 55 miles from Canada, is home to nearly 40,000 Americans. I did wonder how many surfboards the city claims.
Second: I told myself, "Hey stupid, it's all about the music - and lyrics."
OK, maybe today's band plays state fairs and special events across the county, in part, for the money. But Love, Johnston and the others (including myself and the rest of the crowd) seemed to liven up once the music took over and got inside of us.
Have you ever been to Kokomo? It's a Tiki poolside bar in the Florida Keys. The Beach Boys sing about it as a place to go to get away from it all. And don't we all sometimes want to get away from it all, be it in Aruba, Jamica, Bermuda, Bahama or our own Kokomo?
Did you every wear Huaraches sandals? I did.
What love-struck kid hasn't wanted to go "in my room," to find a place, a world, to tell secrets and lock out worries and fears?
Did you ever know a girl named Barbara Ann who could get you rockin' and a-rollin'? Or did you ever go to a dance looking for romance?
Were you true to your school?
Did anyone ever call you "baby" and tell you not to worry because everything would turn out all right?
Didn't you have fun, fun, fun until Daddy took the T-Bird away?
And if your spouse is like mine, then you'll well up and shiver just a bit to "God only knows what I'd be without you."
Long live the Beach Boys, no matter how old they get, and why not a repeat performance at the 2009 Hostfest in Minot?
Happy dreams.
(You can reach Editor John Irby at 250-8266 or john.irby@;bismarcktribune.com and go to http://www.bismarcktribune.com/blog/?wthepaper&e_id2671/ to read his blog.)
mark wrote on Oct 7, 2008 1:46 PM:
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