King of the Wild Frontier

1955: the year of my brother and the year of Davy Crockett! A three episode series on Disneyland takes my generation by storm. Thrilling adventures of the true blue American hero and icon. Like millions of other kids I sat transfixed in front of the TV as Davy fought Injuns and river pirates and the Mexican army. I had my share of Crockett merchandise; coonskin cap,moccasins,t-shirt and pajamas. The woods in my back yard became my personal wild frontier with Indians lurking behind every tree. Davy was honest and noble and brave. He was also mortal, dying a warrior's death at the battle of the Alamo. Here was something new for us, a hero who could die. But he would never really die in our eyes. He was legend, he was America.
I didn't know it at the time, but I was preparing myself for the changes to come. New responsibilities that came with being the older brother, and riding my bike on errands to the store for my mom.
I began to notice the other kids on my street, almost all of them girls. If I stopped at the corner of Glenwood and Walnut I could hear the unmistakable sound of boys at play farther down the street. I couldn't see them, but I knew they were there.
We made new friends across the street in Deptford. Kids my age named Ruthie and Alan and Jackie. New worlds. New games. I was networking.
Something else was happening. A new rhythm, a beat, the new pulse of America. It was beginning to take hold of the country, pouring from the radio and jukeboxes and my cousins' 45s. Rock and roll, the music that would steal our very soul was poundin' rhythm in our brain. Music that screamed and wailed and shouted S-E-X! Songs sung by new voices; black voices, and their message was loud and clear. These young men couldn't be served in the malt shops and diners and roadside cafes, but their voices were there. Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Fats Domino,Frankie Lyman and The Teenagers, and Little Richard leading them all in wild abandon. "Good Golly Miss Molly, sure like to ball! Whooooo!"
I was too young to really comprehend it all, but I was taking it all in as it swirled around me. Even I knew this music was different. It was fast,it was loud, it was free. I could watch my cousins dancing to the sound like the kids on American Bandstand. The rhythm was taking hold of me and the rest of my generation, pulling us through the decades to come.
I still had my long walks with mom and Whee-Zee at my side. I crossed Egg Harbor Road and brought new people into my life. My baby brother gave me a sense of purpose. America was beginning to dance to a new and crazy beat.
I stood at the edge of a brand new wilderness in my Davy Crockett hat prepared for something that was coming and a new message in my brain.
A whop bop a-loo whop A whop Bam Boo.