Turtles – "Happy Together" (1967)

Imagine me and you

I do!

Do you remember the movie Dumb and Dumber?  In that movie, Jim Carrey’s character – who is named Lloyd – is a limo driver who is hired to drive a character named Mary to the airport.  Between the time he picks her up and the time he drops her off, Lloyd falls in love with Mary.

When they meet again shortly thereafter, he declares his feelings for her and asks if there’s any chance of them having a future together:

Lloyd: What are the chances of a guy like you and a girl like me ending up together?

Mary: Not good.

Lloyd: Not good like . . . one in a hundred?

Mary: I'd say more like . . . one in a million.

Lloyd: So you’re telling me there’s a chance . . . YEAH!

(You can click here to watch the scene.)

*     *     *     *     *

I quote this conversation because it has great relevance to my junior high school band, the Rogues.

The Rogues were formed in 1965.  While there were probably a zillion similar bands in the U.S. in those days, I’m confident that the members of the Rogues were more talented musicians than most of those bands.  

The Rogues (circa 1967)

But were we good enough that we might have eventually got a record deal and become big stars?

Obviously, the odds were not good that any 1965-era band would make it big.  But I’m confident that the Rogues had a better chance of making it big than Lloyd had of winning over Mary.  So my answer to the question I asked in the previous paragraph is a resounding YEAH!

*     *     *     *     *

Every so often, I’ll hear a song on the radio and realize that it was one that the Rogues played.

The first song I remember rehearsing with the band was Simon and Garfunkel’s “Homeward Bound.”  (Not exactly a toe-tapper, is it?)   

“Good Lovin’” by the Young Rascals was another one of the songs we covered.  (I was the band’s keyboard player, so I loved that song because it had a nice organ solo.)

I was picked to be the lead singer when we played the Animals’ classic, “House of the Rising Sun.”  I’m not sure why I was chosen to sing that song – I had a low voice, and I think I had to sing most of the song an octave lower than Eric Burdon sang it.  But I do remember handling the lead vocal when we performed it at a pool party at the local country club in the summer of . . . 1965?  Or was it 1966?

*     *     *     *     *

Of all the songs the Rogues covered, “Happy Together” – which was a #1 hit for the Turtles in 1967 – was our biggest crowd-pleaser.  

That comes as no surprise.  “Happy Together” was a great song, and I have no doubt that our version of it was a stick of dynamite.  (Perhaps even better than the original – although there are some who will question that.)

Our snazzy white dinner jackets and ascots didn’t hurt, of course.

*     *     *     *     *

The Rogues and I had a parting of the ways in 1967.

I could say the cause for the split was artistic differences.  (The favorite recording artists of the leader of the Rogues were Herman’s Hermits and Simon and Garfunkel.  My favorites were the Rolling Stones and the Beach Boys.  Your Honor, I rest my case.)

But the real reason was my inability to persuade my parents to shell out a few hundred bucks to buy me a Vox Continental or Farfisa Compact Combo organ to replace the $29.95 dimestore piece of crap that I played.

Vox Continental organ

There was no big blowup or anything – the other Rogues just stopped telling me when and where the band’s practices were going to take place.

*     *     *     *     *

Click here to listen to “Happy Together.”

Click on the link below to buy the song from Amazon:

Turtles -- "Happy Together" (1967)

Me and you, and you and me

No matter how they tossed the dice

It had to be

How many of the 8th-grade girls who were in the audience when the Rogues performed this song were thinking "Me and you, and you and me" as they watched yours truly wailing away on the organ?  

Raise your hand if you were one of them.  Go ahead, don't be shy. . . .  Someone?  Anyone?  (Bueller?  Bueller?)

There's a hand!  Whose hand is that?  I can't quite see who it is . . . 

Wait a minute.  It's YOU?  Really?  OMG, you were SO CUTE in 1966!  WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?!?!?

It's not surprising you were attracted to me, of course.  I stood a magnificent 6-feet-plus tall and weighed in at a svelte 140 pounds (dripping wet) – with my medium-length hair (my barber had accused me of "going Beatle" on him when I deserted my grade-school crew cut a couple of years earlier), my size 12A black Florsheim wingtips, and my black horn-rimmed glasses.  

Many of you have seen the picture of the Rogues that I posted to the Facebook page for our 40th high-school reunion:

The Rogues

I found that photo with a few hundred pounds of other me-related stuff at my parents' house last week.  (My mother kept everything except my old baseball cards.)  John Sutter was no more excited when he struck gold in California way back in 1848 than I was when I found all that stuff – most of which had not been viewed by human eyes in 40-odd years.

*     *     *     *     *

One thing I've been struck by since returning from our reunion is how we didn't really talk about anything that had happened since we were all teenagers.  Occasionally someone would ask me where I lived now, or how many kids I had, or how old they were – but then the conversation immediately shifted to our high-school or even junior-high-school memories.  There was very little talk about jobs, marriages, divorces, what kind of cars we drove, etc.  

Was the whole reunion a refreshing and reenergizing respite from our current lives – an invigorating dip in the cool, clean waters of teenage memories?  Were we all trying to deny reality for as long as possible – making a desperate attempt to swim from our Alcatraz Island of a present to the carefree pleasures of our childhoods?

I don't know.  What I do know is that I have had a hell of a time reentering my real life.  I can't get the people I saw and the memories that kept popping up out of nowhere out of my mind.  

I feel like Pandora.  Except that I don't want to get the lid back on the box.  

So if anyone sees a time machine that will take me back to the late 1960's on eBay or somewhere like that, please let me know immediately.  There are a few things (and a few people) I'd love to take a mulligan on.

*     *     *     *     *

Back to the Rogues.  

The picture posted above shows our original four-man lineup.  Bruce Hodson was our explosive and intense Keith Moon-like drummer.  Jim Matthews (he's playing the red guitar) was a talented and versatile musician – equally adept playing jazz trombone or rock guitar, and a good singer to boot.  Jack Davidson (he's the one with the red carnation) unselfishly switched over to bass guitar when Joe joined the band.

I was the keyboardist, but to be truthful, I was mostly just eye candy for the many local girls who were our core fans.  That's why I was in the Rogues, after all – for all the fabulous babes.  

I agreed with Davy Jones of the Monkees, who said this after seeing the Beatles' first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show: "I watched the Beatles from the side of the stage, I saw the girls going crazy, and I said to myself, this is it, 'I want a piece of that'."But when we were 9th-graders, we added Joe Davis – known to rock historians as "The 5th Rogue."  

Joe is still a professional musician.  Here's a recent photo of him performing:

The Rogues made the transition from solid rock foursome to a supergroup when we added Joe – it was as if Eric Clapton had joined forces with the Beatles.

*     *     *     *     *

Joe brought his musicianship and true 1960's attitude to the Rogues.  Equally importantly, he brought a "wah-wah" pedal.

The wah-wah pedal was invented in late 1966, but I know Joe had one when we were 9th-graders -- and we completed 9th-grade in May 1967.  So we were pretty cutting edge, baby.  (Except for my wingtips and black horn-rimmed glasses, of course.)

When you ask rock aficionados what songs use the wah-wah pedal to best effect, the most common responses are probably "White Room" (Cream), "Sweet Child o' Mine" (Guns n' Roses), and "Enter Sandman" (Metallica).  But those guys never heard the Rogues play its rendition of the Turtles megahit, "Happy Together." 

Wah-wah pedal

Released in February 1967, "Happy Together" quickly climbed to the #1 position on the Billboard "Hot 100," knocking the Beatles' "Penny Lane" out of the top spot.

It was truly a perfect little 3-minute AM-radio song, with a metronomic beat and some great harmony singing by the Turtles' two lead singers.

The Rogues owned this song.  I can't begin to count how many times we played it at our rehearsals.  All I know is that I will never forget the words – not if I went 20 years without hearing the song.  If I live to be 100, and don't remember my kids when they come to visit me, I'll remember "Happy Together."

I think the band may have disbanded when it did because we knew we could never top "Happy Together."  How do you top perfection?  You don't.  IT CAN'T BE DONE!

So we unplugged our guitars, broke down our drum kit, and walked away.  The Beatles did it, after all, and so did the Rogues.  Finis.  Sayonara.  Hasta luego, hasta manana, hasta yo mama!   

*     *     *     *     *

There's been talk of the Rogues getting back together and playing at our 45th high-school reunion in 2015.  

I'm not saying "no" to that idea at this point but I'm not saying "yes" either.  I'll have to talk to my old mates first.  But if we get money for nothin' and the chicks are free, I say "Do it!"

Unfortunately, no one thought to record the Rogues' performing "Happy Together."  (If someone had, you'd best believe my mother would have kept a copy.)  Click here to listen to the Turtles' version of the song – it's almost as good.

Click on the link below to buy the record on Amazon: