Music 101.1

Though Ken would not delve deeply into the classical repertoire till the latter years of college, just when depression was about to kick in with a vengeance, the seed had been planted when he was a tyke. It was thanks to Grandpa Wicht, who always had classical music playing, that impressed him in that vein.
When I say Classical, I mean it. Neither Grandpa, and therefore Ken, had much interest in Renaissance, Baroque, or Romantic music.
But we were both distracted by the fact that we were kids and it was the 60's. Ken would point out that the first official rock hit, 'Rock around the Clock', was #1 when he was born. Nevertheless, we were both weaned on the Beatles.
We benefited form having a teenage lady from Ireland as a housekeeper when we were little. Her name was Pat Henebry, and the fact that my now single mom could afford anything, much less a live-in housekeeper, is amazing today. How poor was Ireland still then...
The radio was always on, and it was wonderful. Every day was exciting with the latest songs being broadcast, and the great race to the top of the charts. Everyone listened to the same 2 or 3 stations: WABC or WMCA, both AM stations. The only thing left today that I know of that kept whatever shared culture coherent in any meaningful as the radio did is baseball, and it's a rather sad reflection of the days when there was integrity and loyalty in the sport.
We were into Motown as it unfolded. Everyone was, black or white. Blacks were pissed that just as Motown was in full glory, these white boys from England were taking everything over. Civil Rights tensions were already on the rise. Again, keep in mind, they were all vying for the same few radio stations in New York.
For a few months after we moved into Rockville Centre in '63, Ken and I were trapped coming home from school in the parking garage in the basement of our apartment. It seemed to be on a daily basis then, as I would be held back while Ken had the shit kicked out of him. It almost became a ritual, and it was in part a hazing of sorts, being the new white kids on the block. We tried to find ways to get back into the apartment safely, but we were outnumbered. Ken would later claim it didn't hurt as they held him to the ground and punched into his gut repeatedly while I screamed and cried watching. Believe him? Before long, they were playing basketball together when they found out Ken could play as well as they. 'Beaver' Smith became center of the St. John's team years later. I remember his younger brother 'Chucky' whipping me with clothesline when we came to meet and walk with them to school one morning, with his poor mom trying to stop him.
It was a rude awakening of sorts, but the music would help us get by.