I'm sitting here just contemplatin'
I can't twist the truth; it knows no regulation
Handful of senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin'
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin'
And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
~ P. F. Sloan
Pay no attention to the timing of this song title. Whoa! My tongue just got caught in my cheek! Okay, I got it. I'm good to go now.
Those of you who know this 1965 hit song might be surprised to see that Barry McGuire, who recorded the song, did not write it. P. F. Sloan wrote it in mid-1964 at the age of nineteen. Distressed about the state of the world, he wrote it as a prayer to God as well as "a love song to and for humanity." He naively believed that the song might start a conversation between government and the people. Instead, the song was met with great resistance because of its "anti-government" lyrics. Many radio stations refused to play it, and the media claimed that the song would frighten little children. Sloan was banned from all national television shows, and within a year, he was driven out of the music business. As a result, he suffered from depression for 20 - 25 years and was hospitalized at one point. He did continue to write songs and along with Steve Barri formed The Grass Roots. P. F. Sloan died in November 2015 at the age of 70.
In a pathetic attempt at backlash, several songs were recorded to "answer" Eve of Destruction, including The Dawn of Correction by The Spokesmen, Dawn of Instruction by The Jayhawkers (not to be confused with my beloved Jayhawks), Eve of Tomorrow by Tony Mammarella, and Day for Decision by Johnny Sea. All big hits, right?
I was a sophomore in high school when Eve of Destruction came out. I can remember trying to memorize the lyrics by listening to my little transistor radio under my pillow at night. (Remember, this was pre-Google. Hell, it was pre-Internet, pre-computer, pretty much pre-everything that we take for granted today.) I don't remember how many times I had to wait for the song to play in order to be able to get all the lyrics written down, but I do remember having to look up the word coagulating. And I'm pretty sure I was excited about the song.
But here's where memory fails me. Somewhere along the line, I drank the Kool-Aid and decided that this song . . . in fact, all protest songs . . . should be abolished. I guess I was absent the day Freedom of Speech was covered in history class. Anyway, in English class, we were learning how to debate. (Yes, there were actually rules and protocol and civility expected in debates back then.) I don't remember who my partner or my opponents were, but somehow, I made the case that the song should be outlawed and "won" the debate. This memory is one that makes me wish I could go back in time and change something.
Of course, this was 1965, still the beginning of what we now refer to as "The Sixties." Attitudes and actions, along with music, dress, and hairstyles, changed pretty rapidly as the decade progressed, and by 1969, I was a bonafide hippie, protesting the war and patching my bell-bottom bluejeans with peace, love, and understanding.
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'. Eve of Destruction is credited with boosting momentum for passage of the 26th Amendment in 1971, lowering the voting age from 21 to 18. Too late for me; I turned 21 that year. And now, 46 years later, when human respect is disintegrating, my blood is still so mad, feels like coagulating. This whole crazy world is just too frustrating.
I hope you've found peace, P. F. Sloan.
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