Boomer Saturday

You couldn’t ask for a more baby-boomer-centric day than the one we had Saturday: first a Disney movie from our childhood and then a Beatles concert. Who says we aren’t as young as we used to be?

Swiss Family Robinson

As if hanging out with my sister and uncle weren’t enough nostalgia for one week (see below), Tim and I got Saturday matinee tickets for the 1960 movie Swiss Family Robinson. The screening—on the Disney lot!—was part of the D23 fanclub’s celebration of Disney films made 50 years ago.

As a Disney employee, Tim can pretty much get onto the lot any time he wants; but it’s always a big thrill for me to go behind the studio’s gates, which were opened wide for D23 members (me!) on Saturday. We were among 10 cars on line when the gates opened at 1PM. After parking and checking in, we followed the other early birds to the inner sanctums of the lot.

The theater was beautiful. A gorgeous Fantasia mural greeted us above the entrance, while matching light sculptures illuminated the lobby. I was in my glory just walking in!

Much of the audience was our age—adults like us who had probably seen Swiss Family Robinson in a theater when it was first released in 1960. Since this was a D23 event, most wore their Disney “colors”—e.g., Mickey t-shirts or jewelry—or carried some sort of Mickey-related handbag. I immediately lusted after the purse of the woman sitting next to Tim, prompting a detailed conversation about where to shop in Disneyland. I predict a trip to Anaheim in the near future!

Although a tad slow by today’s standards, the movie held-up pretty well after all these years. As a kid, I was thoroughly captivated by the ingeniousness of the Robinsons’ treehouse, which was still amazing to my much older eyes. The eldest son, played by James MacArthur, didn’t fare quite as well, looking far less hunky than I remembered.

After the movie, we all piled into the studio store (opened just for us). I was tempted by lots of shiny things, but ended up getting something for my sister instead. We then hopped into the car and headed toward the Hollywood Bowl, just over the hill.

Beatles Celebration

Like we do most summers, we have mini-season (five concerts) tickets for the Hollywood Bowl this year. Our first event was Saturday: a tribute to the Beatles, who famously appeared at the Bowl 45 years ago. Now I’m not a big fan of other people singing Beatles tunes, but this was the Hollywood Bowl so I relented. We purposely drove rather than taking the bus, just in case we were forced to leave early by: (1) undue mangling of the music and/or (2) anyone singing “Hey Jude” or “Let It Be,” two of our least favorite Beatles songs. As Tim says, “Even if John Lennon himself rose from the dead, I would cover my ears if he started to sing ‘Hey Jude!’”

Happily, the concert was good, with most of the artists doing justice to the music. Soul singer Bettye Lavette, especially, was a revelation with her bluesy rendition of Lennon’s “Come Together,” which she prefaced by saying, “Please send me a note if you know what this song means!” But then the last act, rocker Todd Rundgren, came out and started to sing “Let It Be.” That was our cue to gather our stuff and leave before he encored with “Hey Jude” (ack!).

It was a long but very fun day.

Burbank High School

Although I loved high school when I was a teenager, it certainly was not the highlight of my life. Nor was my class (1971) apparently all that memorable since it’s barely mentioned in the recently published history of the school. Still, when a former classmate told me that Burbank High School (BHS) was celebrating its centennial this year, I immediately went to the alumni website and got nostalgic for the good ol’ days.

My family moved to Burbank in the early 1960s. With Lockheed still booming and the studios (Warner Bros., Disney and NBC) churning out hundreds of movies and TV shows in those days, living in a town like Burbank was probably every middle-class American’s dream. Though a mere 15 miles away, our new home seemed galaxies apart from the considerably less affluent El Sereno, our former neighborhood in the heart of Los Angeles.

My sister Vicki and I were excellent students who loved school. We never belonged to any social cliques; nonetheless we had lots of friends and happily participated in high school life. We attended most sports events and, like everyone else, hung-out at Bob’s Big Boy restaurant after games and on weekends. We both moved on, though, soon after graduation and rarely go to Burbank anymore since our father and aunt died.

No wonder then that I was totally mystified when I returned, earlier this month, for the BHS centennial parade and celebration. I parked the car and started walking toward the high school, but for the life of me I couldn’t see its rather distinctive 1960s facade. Had they moved the school?

Then suddenly I noticed a much newer building where our school had been. It was covered in bulldog (our old mascot) banners and I realized BHS had been completely rebuilt! Stunned, I sat on the front steps and waited for the parade to start. A group of much older alums (class of 1958) sat next to me and chatted about homecoming dances and drag-racing down Third St., while I kept my eyes peeled for classmates from my generation.

The parade was sweet—lots of former prom queens and the oldest living alumna (100 years old). Anson Williams (class of 1967), perhaps our most famous graduate and star of the TV show “Happy Days,” got a big round of applause. But the single most popular attraction was Bob’s Big Boy, towed behind on old Ford wagon. Everyone ran to the curb and starting taking snapshots of possibly the most important icon of our youth. I can’t even tell you how many Bob’s hamburgers (back in the days when I was still eating beef!) and french fries I devoured while in high school.

After the parade, I rushed over to the main quad to be part of the first tour of campus. We started at the library—the newest part of the building and the final phase of a reconstruction project that’s taken over ten years to complete. The school is now twice the size it was when Vicki and I went there. The number of students has also doubled—2000 compared to roughly 900 kids in our day. The auditorium, now named after my former drama teacher Deane Wolfson, is the only thing that remains of our old school.

Though I never did run into anyone there from the class of 1971, my visit to BHS ended up being very magical. The students all seemed to love the school and the renovated campus was truly amazing. I felt empowered by our school motto, “PRIDE,” all over again.

Hail Burbank High School! Hail! Hail! Hail!