I recently watched the movie “Dazed and Confused” for the
first time. In case you are the other
person who hasn’t seen the film, it is a set in a small Texas
town on High School Graduation Day 1976, which is the year I graduated from High
School in a small Pennsylvania town.
The film opens with a GTO prowling the High School parking lot to “Sweet Emotion” and the last scene has a carload of kids at dawn heading to Houston to get Tickets for the summer's main event - an Aerosmith concert. It all feels so familiar. The
sights, the sounds, the smells, the haircuts, the cars… it’s all perfect. There’s
even a somewhat geeky character that has my hair and glasses from that era.
The soundtrack is often cranked, a full frontal
assault of all that rocked in that era. In addition to Aerosmith, there's Foghat, Frampton, ZZ Top, Alice
Cooper, Nazareth, Sabbath, Kiss, Deep Purple, Edgar Winter, Rick Derringer,
Steve Miller, War, even Head East’s “Never Been any Reason” gets blasted in the
foreground of this 70’s version of American Graffiti. Led Zeppelin, which is
honored by the film's title is missing from the actual film, it must have been a rights
issue…
So it was a cold splash on my warm fuzzy nostalgia when I received
a terrible phone call with the news that one of my closest childhood friends
and a fellow member of the Class of 1976 had died of a sudden massive Heart
Attack. It has been years since I saw
James Wendell Maudlin, but my memories of him, his energy, enthusiasm and
spirit are forged in my brain along with the soundtrack of the times.
Jim was the first person to play numerous crucial records
for me, including Sgt. Pepper, Deep
Purple’s Machine Head, Black
Sabbath’s Paranoid, Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick Spirit’s 12 Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, and the first
Eagles album. Then there was the
Woodstock Soundtrack, I can vividly recall putting the speakers in the window
and blasting the infamous “Fish Cheer” for the entire neighborhood to
enjoy.
We built and raced Go-Carts, created treacherous sledding
runs, explored caves, rode mini bikes and motorcycles, built tree forts, hell
the guy taught me how to drive a car. We
sat for hours behind the wheel of his Dad’s 1972 Triumph Spitfire going through
the shift patterns and winning race after imaginary race… anxiously waiting for
the day when we got our licenses.
The spirit of Dad’s Car Radio – Rock and Roll on the open road
- was very much a part of the Jim Maudlin I knew. Think I’ll go entertain the
neighbors in tribute…
James Wendell Maudlin 1957-2008
