But when it rains, that's when I remember

So about this Susan Cowsill thing.

I am ashamed. By losing touch with my crush, I have missed scads of her great work, both solo and with the Continental Drifters.

To wit:

Everything about this song is top-notch, and to my utter embarrassment, I had never heard it until about a month ago. For shame. And in that short time, the tune has become an all-timer, what with the message, the guitars and Cowsill's passion. Which is never in short supply -- see below.

As for the Drifters, I see they are reuniting briefly to to coincide with the upcoming release of a collection of rarities. It's almost enough for a trip to New Orleans.

Hmmmmm

And I as delved deeper into her catalog in order to right my egregious stupidity, I found this, which has a depth and beauty that speaks for itself.

Be still my heart, Susan Cowsill is a Pop Princess.

I cannot give her a higher compliment. Well, other than maybe she should be the first woman on United States currency.

And Susan, I am sorry. I won't forget you again.

Was she reality, or just a dream to me?

My first crushes that I can remember were Peggy Cass (really) and Patty Duke. Of course, this is not counting my male non-sexual crushes Paul McCartney and Davy Jones.

But of course these were celebrities and completely out of reach. And besides, they were all much older anyway.

Enter Susan Cowsill. Close to my age, cute as a button. And in a rock and roll band. And the first time that I saw a girl as interesting.

What more could anyone want? Well, other than the fact that she too was a celebrity.

Didn't matter, in my eyes. In fact, she didn't know it, but she was my girlfriend for several years.

The Cowsills had a few catchy hits, I especially liked "Indian Lake," even if the band themselves hated it. And now, with its harmonies, production and bubblegum psychedelia, I'll be damned if "The Rain, The Park and Other Things," doesn't sound to me like a mini-pop Masterpiece, with a capital M. In fact, it's one in a ever-increasing line of pop tunes from the past that makes me well, a bit wistful. I'm not sure if the human race will ever sound so innocent again:

They disappeared, and not not just from my view. Internal problems were rampant, as evidenced by the documentary "Family Band," which I watched yesterday. It's wonderful, if tragic.

This has caused me to do a reappraisal of their work, especially that which was recorded in the past 20 years or so. Of course, I posted this the other day, and some of their material is startling as well. I knew my crush Susan was a member of the Continental Drifters, an under appreciated band, but The Cowsills themselves were (and still are to a degree), powerpop masters.

I mean, listen to these later cuts and tell me something special wasn't going on.

And Susan is still cute as hell (and even more talented); some crushes never go away.