Kindergarten cards

As a young, music-loving teenager, I turned to the radio like every teenager of my era. Music television was still a year or two away during my first couple years of adolescence and the radio was all we had.

For music, it was FM only, of course. Where I lived, we had three choices for popular music:

WAAL, "The Whale," played rock. The Doors, Styx, AC/DC and newer groups like The Fixx and Zebra. The first time I ever heard U2 was on WAAL. The Whale still exists and it's still playing the same music. Only now it's called "Classic Rock".

WMRV played "middle of the road" music. Most of the pop music on the charts at the time, that wasn't too rockin', aired on WMRV. Hall and Oates, Stevie Wonder, Sheena Easton. This was the station that played in the orthodontist office. It was also my first regular listening station, until I got tired of Kenny Rogers and Kool and the Gang.

WWWE, "Three W E," was the best station. It played a combination of the previously mentioned stations and it was the most teenage-friendly. I heard the Talking Heads, Blondie and Thomas Dolby on WWWE. They weren't afraid of pop, rock or new wave. It was my favorite station. Unfortunately, the reception wasn't great sometimes.

To me, those three radio stations contained everything music could be. A vast array of genres and sounds. My music world was actually pretty tiny in retrospect, considering the availability of all possibilities of music today. But I look upon it fondly and am happy I grew up at that time.

It bothers me when I read or hear younger people -- some maybe only 10 or 15 years younger than me -- take jabs at this era. I am a child of the '70s. I must defend it.

I loathe the term "yacht rock". Hate it. I know this is terribly defensive of me, but that's the way I feel. Some people my age have embraced the term and have used it as an opportunity to share why they like the music lumped into that category. However, I tend to think of it as a phrase developed by snarky younger people who don't understand the music time period from which they are hand-selecting songs as "yacht rocky" and are looking at it from their current musical perspective.

Yes, lots of music was "softer" at the time. It was the west coast sound, and a term I prefer much more than "yacht rock" (If Christopher Cross never wrote "Sailing" would that term even exist?). But to stereotype music from this period annoys me. I don't think Fleetwood Mac and Steely Dan -- two bands that are often lumped into "yacht rock" -- are alike at all, but people are letting their knowledge about music from the last 20 years, harder-edged music that tends to be more cutting or angry, color their opinions about past music. Sorry we were having a good time in the '70s, folks. Sorry we weren't miserable all the time.

Even though I'd never say music from the '70s is the best ever made. I appreciate it for what it is and the atmosphere in which it was made. I know about '70s music A LOT. (My recent post using the lyrics from a John Paul Young song shows that. Few people knew the song and I knew that would happen). And I can appreciate the sappiness from Randy VanWarmer just as much as "London Calling". To me, every year of the '70s is unique from a music perspective.

And I would say the same thing about '70s baseball cards (and you thought I'd never get here).

Younger people who didn't experience the '70s like to lump the '70s cards together as "those '70s cards, those weirdly bright cards of players just standing around, from just Topps and no other card company." There is so much more to them than that.

I recently received some 1970 Topps cards from Bo of Baseball Cards Come to Life! It's a set I'm slowly collecting -- although I need to get '73 Topps out of the way before I seriously consider '70.

I call these "kindergarten cards" because the '70 Topps set came out when I was in kindergarten. This Roy White card was the first non-Dodger card from the set I ever owned. Having known White only with an Afro and often a mustache, this was a strange and mysterious card.

But it speaks to the time. In 1970, players had short hair and big glasses. They looked much different in 1970 than they did in 1979 and that's why you can't lump the years together. Nobody in 1970 knew what disco or punk rock was.

In 1970, Bob Moose was alive and pitching. By the end of the decade he was no longer with us. See? Not the same. That's a whole 10 years we are talking about there. So many changes over the span of 10 years.

To me, 1970 Topps is distinctive from all of the other Topps sets from that decade because -- well, duh, the gray borders -- but also because it's not really a '70s set at all.

It features photos taken in 1969. The design is as minimalist and simple as Topps design from the second half of the 1960s. The bright blue-and-yellow backs fit perfectly into the '60s. It is a '60s set masquerading as a '70s set.

Here, look, people were still writing on their cards with the 1970 set. That's definitely a trait from the '60s (and earlier). The 1970s, not so much as collectors slowly became aware of the value of their cards during the course of the '70s.

Each 1970s Topps set is distinctive. There is almost no way to mix them up. And I like that I can associate a different grade in school with each set:

1970: kindergarten
1971's black borders: that's first grade
1972's psychedelic tombstones: that's second grade
1973's silhouettes and awkward action: third grade
1974's pennant flags: fourth grade
1975's two-tone color extravaganza: fifth grade (and collecting on the playground)
1976's little position guy: sixth grade
1977's bold team names and flags: seventh grade
1978's script names and classy design: eighth grade
1979's banners: ninth grade

I didn't know what a baseball card was in 1970. Wouldn't have any idea what it was for another couple of years. But by the end of the decade, I was deeply entrenched. I had started going to card shows. I knew about cards you could find in cereal boxes and with snack food. I was a totally different person.

I mean, come on, Tommy John was a White Sox and then a Dodger and then a Yankee during the decade. Three distinctive teams and periods!

Sparky a Red Sox pitcher? Wasn't he a Yankee? Yeah, both of those happened in the same decade.

I guess what I'm saying is that every art form -- whether it's music or baseball cards or whatever -- has its own nuances and characteristics and labeling them -- especially in a snide manner -- is a dangerous game.

Sure, there are similarities. If I listen closely, I can tell that "Minute by Minute" by the Doobie Brothers has something in common with "Lotta Love" by Nicolette Larson or "Biggest Part of Me" by Ambrosia. And, yes, some of the music from the '70s and early '80s ("yacht rock" has to paint-brush the early '80s, too), is cringe-inducing. When songs like "Key Largo" started playing on WMRV, I turned the station off. Immediately.

But to dismiss them as songs that only preppy sweater-wearers would play as they partied on their boat is a disservice to the music of the time. Every musical time period has their shared characteristics. I can see them in the late '90s and I can see them in music today. Some of it I don't like at all. But I don't like dismissive labels that marginalize art. Even if people claim they're doing it in a loving manner.

Every era of music or cards has its good moments and bad moments, but within those moments are characteristics that make each individual, whether it's a musician or writer or a baseball card, unique. "Yacht rock" connects the dots between Boz Scaggs and Robert Palmer. But honestly, I was happier when I hadn't made that connection and had enjoyed their stuff on their own merits.

The way I do with baseball cards.

(P.S.: I've been known to label some periods of '90s cards. I'll try to stop doing that).