Mike Pinder

The sun was shining for the belated celebration of our birthdays.  “70 orbits around the sun” as I have always referred to the yearly cycle of our life on the planet.  It was a lovely evening of friends, music and memories.  If we look a little colorful it is due to the party 60’s theme.  Yes, I wore a pair of tiny sunglasses with the peace symbol in the center of each lenses.

I have been living in California for almost 40 years and have a great love of the west and the philosophy that drew me across atlantic ocean back in the 1970’s.  I have always admired the creative, entrepreneurial mindset of people in the west.  No class distinctions.  When you meet someone you either like them or you don’t.  Everyone is tinkering in their garage, trying to come up with something useful or inventive.  I love that.  It is the best of britain, without the problems of class and condescension.   I have never understood snobbery.  What a waste of time feeling superior.  It is quite meaningless.

In britain we always called snobs, toffee nosed.  I guess if a snob knew they were being called a toffee nosed git or toffee nosed wanker, they might think twice about their delusions of grandeur.  But in the USA it was less about wealth and the perception that it gave you any greater standing or status.  There was always a greater sense of equality.  It was about being innovative and changing the world.  (the omnipresent California sunshine was always a draw for me.  I think I left Britain the year I did not see the sun for 268 days)

Today is memorial day and I have been contemplating the men and women who have risked it all for our freedoms.  My grandfather was killed in WWI, my dad was in India while serving in the British Army and my father in-law was only 17 when he enlisted as marine and went Guam during WWII.  It is staggering to see people today still fighting for the freedom to speak, women’s rights, the rights of children, the rights of people everywhere to have clean water, food and basic housing and sanitation.  Sacred rights that should be universal.  But I don’t need memorial day to remind me of the sacrifice people make.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of those young men and women fighting wars and risking life and limb.  But I also think of the artists, writers, journalists, musicians, poets telling the story and singing their song to uplift us.  And I think of the volunteers, charities and organizers, lending a hand and showing us a better way.   And the doctors, scientists, educators and teachers who are sharing knowledge, the most powerful tool we have, building better brains!  Take a minute each day to envision all of these people working together.  Inner vision, not superstition, will bring peace and harmony.

I have always had a theory about rock music that evolved as a result of the so called British Invasion after the Elvis era.

The blues from the American south was instantly recognized and embraced by the musicians of my generation in Britain.  Young british musicians understood and related to the soul of the blues.  We understood the hardships of WWII and of the working class people.  The blues was a catalyst for us to build on.  We got the message.  Combine that with the Elvis and Buddy Holly rockabilly music of the 1950’s and you get the British Invasion.

The added bonus was the rise of the individual singer songwriter.  The message of the music was personal, insightful and meaningful.  An opening of the collective heart.  This was life expressed through music.  It is no wonder that the music energized an entire generation and beyond.

It was also the innovations of musical instruments, i.e. Les Paul and his guitar inventions, mellotrons, synthesizers, etc, that gave musicians the tools to explore the musical universe.

For young british musicians, who understood the blues, it was an explosion of expression from the heart, mind and soul reflecting the possibilities of the future.

When I was only four years old I knew music had magical properties.  We had a piano in our home and I would sit for hours under the piano and feel the strings as I played a note and wondered at the vibrations and how the tone changed with every key I played.

Early in life my family referred to me as Micky the Moonboy for my interest in space, electronics and music.  I suppose that my eclectic interests made me the perfect candidate for later innovations like the Mellotron.