Larry Lee's Orange County Story

by Susan Cameron

Back in the early 60’s I had a house in Dana Point.
You remember the movie “On Any Sunday”?
Remember the opening scene, kids on Sting Ray bikes,
Tearing through the dirt? My house was just behind them.
There was room then, room to play then, room to move then,
Space and freedom, not house house house as far as the eye can see.

We were young men, swimming in easy money.
We owned our own businesses -- we were 22, 23, 24 years old.
We had wives and kids and houses and motorcycles and race cars.
No big marina in Dana Point then, we surfed there then.
Hobie had his surfboard shop in his two-car garage.
Killer Dana – well, there’s a lot of hype,
Things always seem bigger and better after they’re gone –
But the surfing really was great. Orange County was great. Life was great.
Everybody played back then! I remember
The kite contest at Easter, where Blue Lantern ended by the headlands,
A contest for grownups, catered by Chart House and Ancient Mariner,
A bathtub full of booze with plastic cups for dipping.
Can you even imagine that today?
Liability! Lawyers! Lawsuits!
But there we were, hundreds of people partying, laughing, dancing to the
Mexican Fighter Pilot Mariachi Band. You heard me!
Crazy bastards in kamikaze helmets and goggles, dress whites,
Gold-braided epaulets, riding in,
Playing mariachi music on horseback. Great guys!
Did I ever tell you about the German tank my buddy the importer bought?
Tearing around Dana Point in a tank, sixty miles an hour in the dirt, with
Buckwheat the pit bull up the hatch wearing sunglasses and a red scarf!
We played back then, didn’t take life so seriously back then –
We were winning!

But then –

The developers bought off the county, threw up stucco wall to wall.
The grim-faced yuppies swarmed in to buy their house house house
And filled the harbor with their boat boat boat. That killed surfing.
No more motorcycles in the dirt because there was no more dirt.
The times changed. The people changed. The culture changed.

Hollywood came to Orange County with their shitbox ethics,
Running scams, snaking other men’s wives, breaking up homes,
Greed and evil running rampant.

No more easy money, no more free time, no more camaraderie,
No more young guys doing honest business with each other,
No more friendship, being playful and having fun.

Money dried up
Fun dried up
Land got built up
Harbor got filled up
People got split up
I got fed up
And got the fuck out of there.

But I remember Dana Point.

And every so often I watch “On Any Sunday” and see what used to be.
The place was a young man's paradise.
I was one of the lucky ones.
I feel sorry for the young now --
They don’t have what we had
And they never will.

Susan Cameron (courtesy of Larry Lee), copyright 2010