"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read…December 2006
“How can this thing not be here yet,” I silently cursed?
I’d paid for the merchandise several weeks ago, receiving an automatically generated e-m
ail stating that my item was already on its way!
Talk about expediency, I mused!
Yet here it was nearly a month after the fact and still NO PARTRIDGE FAMILY SEASON ONE DVD!
I’m 43 by the way.
I only blinked my eye; and now the world that I used to know is changin' on me;
“How can this thing not be here yet,” I silently cursed?
I’d paid for the merchandise several weeks ago, receiving an automatically generated e-m
ail stating that my item was already on its way!Talk about expediency, I mused!
Yet here it was nearly a month after the fact and still NO PARTRIDGE FAMILY SEASON ONE DVD!
I’m 43 by the way.
I only blinked my eye; and now the world that I used to know is changin' on me;
why can't it be only a moment ago?
- Only A Moment Ago
The Partridge Family Album (1970)
Summer 1972
Skipping gaily on my way home from school – well, not really skipping, but there was definitely an extra bounce in my step - I thought happily, today is definitely the day!
It wasn’t!
In fact, barely a week had gone by since my mom had placed the order with Columbia House, but to the mind of an impatient nine year old it felt more like months! In the past my parents had been particularly remiss in allowing us to participate in the democratic process of choosing new music to enrich our lives, but in this case, something monumental must have occurred to
effect such a sudden change of heart; planets realigning, a windfall of unexpected cash, a probable lack of any truly exciting musical offerings this time around. Whatever the reason as far as I was concerned, The Partridge Family’s At Home with Their Greatest Hits could not possibly arrive fast enough! Already by this time in my young life I had somehow managed to obtain all of the vinyl from which said greatest hits had been compiled, so adding this new tidbit to my collection should really not have been a big deal.
It was!
And on so many levels!
Wit
h the impending delivery of this soon to be latest acquisition (and much to my family’s delight) we would now have the pleasure of taking the family Partridge with us wherever we went, for this was no simple LP…This was an 8-Track!
8-Track tape representing the latest in audible technology, now allowed you to take
your music almost anywhere, be it in the car on a state of the art 8-Track car stereo, or maybe on the beach with the coolest pre boom-box, post transistor radio invention; the Dynamite 8!
“But wait, there’s more!”
(Think special TV offer featuring over-zealous announcer here)
“But wait, there’s more!”
This particular greatest hits collection boasted a brand new unreleased album track!!
I’d never heard of “Breaking is Up is Hard to Do,” and was eager to feast my ears on the Partridge’s latest! On the day that the package had finally arrived at our front door, my mom had been kind enough to leave it sealed until returning home from my institute of lower learning. There it was, the cardboard box, gleaming like a Holy Grail atop our monstrous maple wood grain stereo. Dropping my schoolbag haphazardly to the floor I raced across the worn beige rug and seized the coveted prize, ripping it open none too carefully, a blizzard of packing material and worthless plastic tape cartridges bearing the blurred faces of Perry Como, Andy Williams, Vic Damone and Steve & Eydie burying me nearly to my neck.
“OH NO”, my mind screamed!
Could they somehow have impossibly forgotten to include it in this lackluster order of non-imaginative old people’s smorgasbord of crap, was it out of stock, discontinued…?
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” my mom admonished me from somewhere behind.
“It’s not here, it’s not here, it’s not here…” I repeated disconsolately, until…
“HERE IT IS, I triumphantly announced!
“Oh, hi mom,” I half heartedly acknowledged, before wholeheartedly sweeping the ridiculous vase of fake purple flowers to the side, throwing open the heavy lid to reveal the dusty components within. Studying the track listing as if it were a roadmap , I contemplated the quickest way of getting to the as yet unheard track, suddenly realizing the major downfall o
f this newest technology; no instant access to the song of your choice.
An interminable, (almost as long as it had taken for Columbia House to make good on this order it seemed) three minutes and twenty-four seconds later having only to endure one cut; the not loved “Echo Valley 2-6809” – what was this doing here anyway? – my reward had finally been delivered in the form of multi-layered incredible harmony.
WOW, what a catchy tune!
“Brilliant,” I sighed contentedly
I’ve always considered myself pretty clueless musically, and yes, it would be a number of years before I was to realize that “Breaking Up is Hard to Do” was not a true Partridge Family original recording. It would take slightly less than that to realize there really was no true Partridge Family to begin with. So what had brought me to this euphoric high, (or lowly low, truth be told)? Like most things in the life of a small town nine year old, it had begun innocently several months earlier on a cold winter’s night. Having wrapped up our weekly viewing of the Brady Bunch, my parents had erred only slightly in not changing the channel or scooting us off to bed quickly enough before the unmistakable sound of a Wurlitzer electric organ emanated from the
small television speaker giving way to the abovementioned multi-layered harmonies inviting all to “hear the song that we’re singing and Come On Get Happy.”
“This is the Partridge Family,” I said breathlessly.
Having never seen the show, I don’t know how I had come to be blessed with that little bit of TV knowledge. I’d known absolutely nothing of the Partridges; who they were what they were, why they were. Whatever they were, I was immediately tuned in, having seamlessly made the transition to the more personal, intricate family structure that was Partridge. The Brady’s could never compare with their infantile domestic issues and pathetic musical aspirations. Their lame “Time to Change,’ and “We Can Make the World a Whole Lot Brighter” couldn’t hold a candle to the Partridges far more complex “I’m On My Way Back Home,” the first tune I had been introduced to on that historic Friday evening. My taste in music now evolving well past the ditties of childhood past, life suddenly had new meaning. Armed with nothing more than the paltry allowance my parents had afforded me (which I didn’t deserve anyway) I was on a mission to obtain Partridge
vinyl, the first acquisition being the band’s third release; Sound Magazine.
Opening the album, Side A’s One Night Stand; a musician’s lament features Keith in raw vocal form…
Alright, that’s ludicrous.
Up until the moment of this writing I have doubtfully ever used the word lament in a sentence, be it complete, incomplete or run-on. Sitting cross legged on the floor, the new record booming from the maple wood monster’s speakers (beginning a mother’s lifelong lament in repeatedly urging me to turn it down) I scanned the contents inscribed on the album’s back cover paying particular attention to the fact that there were two earlier releases I would have to get my hands on while ignoring (call it
denial) the fact that there were far more musicians listed on this record than there were Partridges under the heading “It Takes a lot of Good People.”
Hal Blaine: Drums
Hal Blaine, Drums, I wondered, confused? Who the heck is Hal Blaine?! Chris plays drums…and he’s only six, a regular prodigy! Granted, I’d yet to hear him play a drum solo, but his tasty fills…
Yes, Tom, There is a Partridge Family.
I stuck with denial.
A few short months later at a tag sale in the parking lot behind the local Methodist Church, I was introduced – compliments of the Minister’s two eldest daughters; Katie and Julie, with whom I was friendly at the time – to the Partridge’s second release; Up to Date spinning one of those 1970's era high-tech portable record players.
I wasn’t wowed, but was determined however to add this to my not yet growing collection. How and when I’d finally acquired both Up to Date, and its debut predecessor; The Partridge Family Album escapes me, 
but in time I came to relish both of these and the later released Christmas album as well. Shopping Bag; the fifth release, I had been eyeing in a local five and dime for several weeks before I’d saved up enough pennies (literally) from my undeserved allowance to afford it. This was a great one because it came with a little something extra; an actual Partridge Family plastic shopping bag!
- Only A Moment Ago
The Partridge Family Album (1970)
Summer 1972
Skipping gaily on my way home from school – well, not really skipping, but there was definitely an extra bounce in my step - I thought happily, today is definitely the day!
It wasn’t!
In fact, barely a week had gone by since my mom had placed the order with Columbia House, but to the mind of an impatient nine year old it felt more like months! In the past my parents had been particularly remiss in allowing us to participate in the democratic process of choosing new music to enrich our lives, but in this case, something monumental must have occurred to
effect such a sudden change of heart; planets realigning, a windfall of unexpected cash, a probable lack of any truly exciting musical offerings this time around. Whatever the reason as far as I was concerned, The Partridge Family’s At Home with Their Greatest Hits could not possibly arrive fast enough! Already by this time in my young life I had somehow managed to obtain all of the vinyl from which said greatest hits had been compiled, so adding this new tidbit to my collection should really not have been a big deal.It was!
And on so many levels!
Wit
h the impending delivery of this soon to be latest acquisition (and much to my family’s delight) we would now have the pleasure of taking the family Partridge with us wherever we went, for this was no simple LP…This was an 8-Track!8-Track tape representing the latest in audible technology, now allowed you to take
your music almost anywhere, be it in the car on a state of the art 8-Track car stereo, or maybe on the beach with the coolest pre boom-box, post transistor radio invention; the Dynamite 8!“But wait, there’s more!”
(Think special TV offer featuring over-zealous announcer here)
“But wait, there’s more!”
This particular greatest hits collection boasted a brand new unreleased album track!!
I’d never heard of “Breaking is Up is Hard to Do,” and was eager to feast my ears on the Partridge’s latest! On the day that the package had finally arrived at our front door, my mom had been kind enough to leave it sealed until returning home from my institute of lower learning. There it was, the cardboard box, gleaming like a Holy Grail atop our monstrous maple wood grain stereo. Dropping my schoolbag haphazardly to the floor I raced across the worn beige rug and seized the coveted prize, ripping it open none too carefully, a blizzard of packing material and worthless plastic tape cartridges bearing the blurred faces of Perry Como, Andy Williams, Vic Damone and Steve & Eydie burying me nearly to my neck.
“OH NO”, my mind screamed!
Could they somehow have impossibly forgotten to include it in this lackluster order of non-imaginative old people’s smorgasbord of crap, was it out of stock, discontinued…?
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” my mom admonished me from somewhere behind.
“It’s not here, it’s not here, it’s not here…” I repeated disconsolately, until…
“HERE IT IS, I triumphantly announced!
“Oh, hi mom,” I half heartedly acknowledged, before wholeheartedly sweeping the ridiculous vase of fake purple flowers to the side, throwing open the heavy lid to reveal the dusty components within. Studying the track listing as if it were a roadmap , I contemplated the quickest way of getting to the as yet unheard track, suddenly realizing the major downfall o
f this newest technology; no instant access to the song of your choice.An interminable, (almost as long as it had taken for Columbia House to make good on this order it seemed) three minutes and twenty-four seconds later having only to endure one cut; the not loved “Echo Valley 2-6809” – what was this doing here anyway? – my reward had finally been delivered in the form of multi-layered incredible harmony.
WOW, what a catchy tune!
“Brilliant,” I sighed contentedly
I’ve always considered myself pretty clueless musically, and yes, it would be a number of years before I was to realize that “Breaking Up is Hard to Do” was not a true Partridge Family original recording. It would take slightly less than that to realize there really was no true Partridge Family to begin with. So what had brought me to this euphoric high, (or lowly low, truth be told)? Like most things in the life of a small town nine year old, it had begun innocently several months earlier on a cold winter’s night. Having wrapped up our weekly viewing of the Brady Bunch, my parents had erred only slightly in not changing the channel or scooting us off to bed quickly enough before the unmistakable sound of a Wurlitzer electric organ emanated from the
small television speaker giving way to the abovementioned multi-layered harmonies inviting all to “hear the song that we’re singing and Come On Get Happy.”“This is the Partridge Family,” I said breathlessly.
Having never seen the show, I don’t know how I had come to be blessed with that little bit of TV knowledge. I’d known absolutely nothing of the Partridges; who they were what they were, why they were. Whatever they were, I was immediately tuned in, having seamlessly made the transition to the more personal, intricate family structure that was Partridge. The Brady’s could never compare with their infantile domestic issues and pathetic musical aspirations. Their lame “Time to Change,’ and “We Can Make the World a Whole Lot Brighter” couldn’t hold a candle to the Partridges far more complex “I’m On My Way Back Home,” the first tune I had been introduced to on that historic Friday evening. My taste in music now evolving well past the ditties of childhood past, life suddenly had new meaning. Armed with nothing more than the paltry allowance my parents had afforded me (which I didn’t deserve anyway) I was on a mission to obtain Partridge
vinyl, the first acquisition being the band’s third release; Sound Magazine.Opening the album, Side A’s One Night Stand; a musician’s lament features Keith in raw vocal form…
Alright, that’s ludicrous.
Up until the moment of this writing I have doubtfully ever used the word lament in a sentence, be it complete, incomplete or run-on. Sitting cross legged on the floor, the new record booming from the maple wood monster’s speakers (beginning a mother’s lifelong lament in repeatedly urging me to turn it down) I scanned the contents inscribed on the album’s back cover paying particular attention to the fact that there were two earlier releases I would have to get my hands on while ignoring (call it
denial) the fact that there were far more musicians listed on this record than there were Partridges under the heading “It Takes a lot of Good People.”Hal Blaine: Drums
Hal Blaine, Drums, I wondered, confused? Who the heck is Hal Blaine?! Chris plays drums…and he’s only six, a regular prodigy! Granted, I’d yet to hear him play a drum solo, but his tasty fills…
Yes, Tom, There is a Partridge Family.
I stuck with denial.
A few short months later at a tag sale in the parking lot behind the local Methodist Church, I was introduced – compliments of the Minister’s two eldest daughters; Katie and Julie, with whom I was friendly at the time – to the Partridge’s second release; Up to Date spinning one of those 1970's era high-tech portable record players.
I wasn’t wowed, but was determined however to add this to my not yet growing collection. How and when I’d finally acquired both Up to Date, and its debut predecessor; The Partridge Family Album escapes me, 
but in time I came to relish both of these and the later released Christmas album as well. Shopping Bag; the fifth release, I had been eyeing in a local five and dime for several weeks before I’d saved up enough pennies (literally) from my undeserved allowance to afford it. This was a great one because it came with a little something extra; an actual Partridge Family plastic shopping bag!WOW!
I couldn't wait to be seen in public with that baby dangling by my side. Choosing to join my dad one night in a short excursion to the store, I quickly gathered up my new prize and headed towards the door.
“Where are you going with that,” he asked warily?
“I just thought I’d take it to…you know hold stuff,” was my lame reply.
With great wisdom and diplomacy, he advised:
“I would leave it here. The store clerks may think you're up to something walking in there with an empty shopping bag."
“Where are you going with that,” he asked warily?
“I just thought I’d take it to…you know hold stuff,” was my lame reply.
With great wisdom and diplomacy, he advised:
“I would leave it here. The store clerks may think you're up to something walking in there with an empty shopping bag."
I was flabbergasted.
The nerve, I thought angrily!
In hindsight, I often wonder if in a way he was saving either me or himself from almost certain ridicule as I gaily perused the aisle with my brightly colored little plastic Partridge Family bag.
Notebook; the sixth release followed in December, arriving under our tree via Santa. I remember Christmas morning sitting on that same worn rug bestowing upon my family future classics like Together We’re Better, Friend And A Lover, and We Gotta Get Outta This Place; a real rocker and oddly different from the other tunes on this collection. I’ve always considered myself pretty clueless musically, and yes, it would take me nearly a decade before realizing that this too was not a true Partridge recording. I remember feeling no small amount of pride at hearing the single; Looking Through the Eyes of Love played occasionally on AM radio. Crossword Puzzle; the band’s final 
release – so I’d believed until recently – pretty much spelled the end of this love affair with the Partridges; whom I’d finally admitted to myself were really nothing more than It Take’s A Lot of Good People. My clearest memory of this album was listening to it in Katie’s bedroom…yes, the minister’s daughter!
In addition to my now complete vinyl collection I was also working on keeping up with the nonstop deluge of paperbacks that continually appeared on drug store book racks, at one time
actually owning sixteen of the seventeen published.
I read only one of them in its entirety; #5 Terror by Night.
Great story.
“The Partridge Family was ready for a vacation,” my first fifth grade book report began. Staring at that short introduction, I could almost hear the uproarious laughter of my classmates as my dirty little secret was revealed.
I was a closet Partridge Family fan!
Not cool! In fact the only person out of my immediate circle I can remember admitting this to would be the surgeon who was setting my broken wrist several months earlier as I lay there drugged and delirious imparting upon him my musical wisdom. I crumpled up the paper and went on to something that was not nearly as significant to me, but would at least leave me with some respect.
“Ah, but you're gonna find if you hang around awhile
you will remember me when you're gone”
- There’s No Doubt in my Mind
Up To Date (1971)
Realizing that I was now somehow maturing, the time had come to put away the Partridge books and vinyl, knowing that with Junior High School in the not so distant future it would be for the best. Those items spent many years hidden away in my bedroom closet until without warning they seemingly vanished like so many other tokens and mementos of my childhood innocence. Decades have literally passed, but not without the occasional brief resurgence of Partridge interest. Sometime in the early to mid-nineties when the albums were re-released on CD (now allowing immediate access to the tune of my choice) I wasted no time in purchasing them, amazing myself that I had not forgotten the lyrics to all of those songs that had brought me so much happiness. Caught up in the excitement of musically revisiting my childhood, I’d attempted to share this youthful exuberance with my wife who just didn’t get it, forcing me to realize there may actually be some credence to the old saying "guess you had to be there." Another decade would pass before those discs would see the light of day again.
December 2006
“Justin,” I yell, at my three year old, trying desperately to get his shoes on. He’s spent the better part of an hour running around the apartment singing “Come On, Get Happy” as loud as his little lungs will allow. Having finally received the long awaited Partridge Family Season One DVD, the two of us have spent several evenings glued to the television. I don’t know how much of it he’s retaining, but he’s definitely digging it. Once again enmeshed in the obsession of my
childhood I have also decided to revisit the old Partridge paperbacks, already completing #5, Terror by Night for the second time in over three decades.
Not a great story!
And no by the way, I did not hold on to all of those literary masterpieces for all these years. I painstakingly reacquired them through Ebay at far more than their original worth, keeping them
hidden from prying eyes, locked within a double reinforced steel door behind a secret panel at the rear of the linen closet. The CD’s (now including a bootleg copy of the hard to find final release; Bulletin Board) reside in the lowest darkest recesses of the media rack for much the same reason.
The nerve, I thought angrily!
In hindsight, I often wonder if in a way he was saving either me or himself from almost certain ridicule as I gaily perused the aisle with my brightly colored little plastic Partridge Family bag.
Notebook; the sixth release followed in December, arriving under our tree via Santa. I remember Christmas morning sitting on that same worn rug bestowing upon my family future classics like Together We’re Better, Friend And A Lover, and We Gotta Get Outta This Place; a real rocker and oddly different from the other tunes on this collection. I’ve always considered myself pretty clueless musically, and yes, it would take me nearly a decade before realizing that this too was not a true Partridge recording. I remember feeling no small amount of pride at hearing the single; Looking Through the Eyes of Love played occasionally on AM radio. Crossword Puzzle; the band’s final 
release – so I’d believed until recently – pretty much spelled the end of this love affair with the Partridges; whom I’d finally admitted to myself were really nothing more than It Take’s A Lot of Good People. My clearest memory of this album was listening to it in Katie’s bedroom…yes, the minister’s daughter!In addition to my now complete vinyl collection I was also working on keeping up with the nonstop deluge of paperbacks that continually appeared on drug store book racks, at one time
actually owning sixteen of the seventeen published.I read only one of them in its entirety; #5 Terror by Night.
Great story.
“The Partridge Family was ready for a vacation,” my first fifth grade book report began. Staring at that short introduction, I could almost hear the uproarious laughter of my classmates as my dirty little secret was revealed.
I was a closet Partridge Family fan!
Not cool! In fact the only person out of my immediate circle I can remember admitting this to would be the surgeon who was setting my broken wrist several months earlier as I lay there drugged and delirious imparting upon him my musical wisdom. I crumpled up the paper and went on to something that was not nearly as significant to me, but would at least leave me with some respect.
“Ah, but you're gonna find if you hang around awhile
you will remember me when you're gone”
- There’s No Doubt in my Mind
Up To Date (1971)
Realizing that I was now somehow maturing, the time had come to put away the Partridge books and vinyl, knowing that with Junior High School in the not so distant future it would be for the best. Those items spent many years hidden away in my bedroom closet until without warning they seemingly vanished like so many other tokens and mementos of my childhood innocence. Decades have literally passed, but not without the occasional brief resurgence of Partridge interest. Sometime in the early to mid-nineties when the albums were re-released on CD (now allowing immediate access to the tune of my choice) I wasted no time in purchasing them, amazing myself that I had not forgotten the lyrics to all of those songs that had brought me so much happiness. Caught up in the excitement of musically revisiting my childhood, I’d attempted to share this youthful exuberance with my wife who just didn’t get it, forcing me to realize there may actually be some credence to the old saying "guess you had to be there." Another decade would pass before those discs would see the light of day again.
December 2006
“Justin,” I yell, at my three year old, trying desperately to get his shoes on. He’s spent the better part of an hour running around the apartment singing “Come On, Get Happy” as loud as his little lungs will allow. Having finally received the long awaited Partridge Family Season One DVD, the two of us have spent several evenings glued to the television. I don’t know how much of it he’s retaining, but he’s definitely digging it. Once again enmeshed in the obsession of my
childhood I have also decided to revisit the old Partridge paperbacks, already completing #5, Terror by Night for the second time in over three decades.Not a great story!
And no by the way, I did not hold on to all of those literary masterpieces for all these years. I painstakingly reacquired them through Ebay at far more than their original worth, keeping them
hidden from prying eyes, locked within a double reinforced steel door behind a secret panel at the rear of the linen closet. The CD’s (now including a bootleg copy of the hard to find final release; Bulletin Board) reside in the lowest darkest recesses of the media rack for much the same reason.I wish I knew then what I know today,
I'm on my way back home again
- I’m On My Way Back Home
Sound Magazine (1972)
Skipping gaily on my way home from work – well, not really skipping, but definitely with an extra bounce in my step as I disinterestedly pass by a group of shabby looking youth’s with no taste in music I smile inwardly as I once again revel in the music of my childhood (old people's music as they would think of it) playing on a newly purchased iPod. This not only allows me instant access to every single Partridge tune, but I can keep my guilty pleasure (dirty little secret) literally close to the hip and away from prying eyes. Another step forward for technology, while I myself have undeniably taken two steps back.
I'm on my way back home again
- I’m On My Way Back Home
Sound Magazine (1972)
Skipping gaily on my way home from work – well, not really skipping, but definitely with an extra bounce in my step as I disinterestedly pass by a group of shabby looking youth’s with no taste in music I smile inwardly as I once again revel in the music of my childhood (old people's music as they would think of it) playing on a newly purchased iPod. This not only allows me instant access to every single Partridge tune, but I can keep my guilty pleasure (dirty little secret) literally close to the hip and away from prying eyes. Another step forward for technology, while I myself have undeniably taken two steps back.
