Happy Trails To You …

Hey, Mona, hey hey hey hey, Mona,
I’m gonna tell you, Mona, what I wanna do
I’m gonna build my house next door to you
Can I make love to you once in a while?
Ah, baby, we could go kissing through the vine
When I come out on the front
You’ll listen to my heart goin’ bumpity bump

The other side of midnight. Circa spring 1969. Raise your hand if you have a “party at a house in the country” story. Mine’s got a big porch and yard littered with old broken sofas, a few car backseats, threadbare stuffed chairs with stories of their own, hair long and undisciplined, bellbottoms, bare feet, lots of hazy, swirling smoke, beer, cheap wine, and loud music. Vinyl with all the pops. Some cool guy, a waiter at Harry’s, stood by the turntable ready to drop the needle. You might even have been there.

I felt each lick, chord, beat zoom all the way out through my toes only to turn around and rocket back up again. And with that, Quicksilver Messenger Service snatched me and pointed a long slender finger down album rock highway. No turning back. 3-4 minute radio songs would never quite satisfy again. The Record Bar on Henderson Street regularly relieved me of whatever money I had. As Quicksilver Messenger Service and Happy Trails slipped into a bag, all my nerve endings were “goin’ bumpity bump.” The way they always did when new music was going home with me. Still does.

John Cipollina. Lord. Yeah, I’d have given him some free love. And that was just before Nicky Hopkins joined the band. Happy Trails to you!