War - Low Rider

Sneaking out of Star Wars to watch Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke

I own this 45

Comedy is Not Pretty

I was eleven when Cheech and Chong’s R-rated film, Up in Smoke, was released. In the U.S. you had to be 17 or accompanied by a guardian to see an R-rated movie (and this is still true).

It’s hard to imagine that I knew who Cheech and Chong were back then. I doubt I owned any of the comedy duo’s gold-selling albums — Big Bambu, Los Cochinos, Wedding Album, or Sleeping Beauty — at that age. But I did have a turntable, and I was into edgy comedy, so it was possible. I was a huge fan of Steve Martin and listened nonstop to his first two albums, Let’s Get Small (1977) and A Wild and Crazy Guy (1978). I remember a skit where he talked about how he rarely got high — only in the evening — then included all the other parts of the day one by one, ending with the punch line, “But never at dusk!”

Perhaps Mr. Martin was my gateway stoner comic, preparing me for the two wild and crazy guys (Mr. Cheech Marin and Mr. Tommy Chong) who would soon guide me fuzzily into my nerve-wracking, hormone-ravaged teenage years.

Could I have owned this since 1978? Too much ganga in the intervening years obfuscates a clear memory. And yes, my copy does have the giant rolling paper inside.

Star Wars and Trading Cards

When Star Wars was released in May of 1977, it was all the rage. Especially among the pre-tween boy population. As a member of that group, it was essentially a requirement to see the film. It was hard to maintain friendships without being able to talk Luke, Lea, Obi-Wan, Han, Chewbacca, R2D2, and Darth.

So, I did as I was expected and….I dunno. I liked it okay, but I was mostly bored. I was not a sci-fi kid. I didn’t care about outer space, I didn’t read any J.R.R. Tolkien or Arthur C. Clarke.

I loved music, TV, baseball, and collecting baseball cards. My collection contained mostly baseball cards, but I also had a hundred or so football and basketball ones too. In addition, I owned a full set of Charlie’s Angels trading cards. (Kelly was my favorite.)

So when Topps (who produced the baseball and Charlie’s Angels cards) decided to release Star Wars cards, I was all in.

In no time, I had all 72 of the Series 1 Star Wars trading cards. Saved in protective plastic sheets in a 3-ring binder. In numerical order.

I suppose I was a bit of a nerd after all.

Star Wars was still dominating the box office well into 1978, and my best friend Howard Lasser wanted to go see it again for his 11th birthday. Fulfilling his son’s wishes, Howard’s dad drove a half dozen sugar-coated sixth-grade boys to the AMC Theaters Cineplex at the Oaks Mall.

I had no intention of watching Star Wars again. When we arrived at the theater, I quickly scanned the listings for what else was playing. The only film with a start time close to Star Wars was Up in Smoke.

It couldn’t be as boring as Star Wars, I figured, and planned my escape.

I made sure that I had an aisle seat, and once Star Wars began, I took off. Luckily, Up in Smoke was the next theater. I nonchalantly strolled in and took my seat in the back row, my stomach jumpy from the excitement, from the rebelliousness of it all. What the hell was I about to see?

Up in Smoke

The movie starts with Cheech hungover and waking up to his three small children making a racket. He gets up and mistakenly pees in the hamper instead of the toilet. Cut to Chong, who somehow is the son of extremely wealthy parents who yell at him to get a job. He ignores them, makes a smoothie, and then drives off in his VW Bug filled with his drum set.

But the action really starts at minute three, when the song “Up in Smoke” (a country tune performed by Cheech & Chong) plays as Chong’s car literally goes up in smoke at the side of the road. As soon as he slams the engine cover, the song stops, and a sharp, syncopated cowbell beat takes over.

As Cheech leaves his house to head out, we hear War’s groovy, funky hit single, “Low Rider,” playing on the soundtrack. Of course, Cheech’s car is a low rider. He’s got the words “Love Machine” painted onto his rear window.

The next 80 minutes were a mind-bending blur. Most of the references in the film were beyond me, but in general, the humor was aimed not much higher than the pre-teen boy brain. And the stoner adults. Needless to say, Up in Smoke is filled with tons of pot smoking, drug-taking, sex, and over-the-top hijinks.

When I left the theater to head back to my friends watching Star Wars (which thankfully was a half-hour longer than Up in Smoke), I felt like I was stoned, even though I had never actually been stoned.

Can I draw a line from the day I saw Up in Smoke for the first time to the day a year later when I would take my first puff off a joint? I think so. It wouldn’t be a ‘straight’ line, but it does connect. But another line drawn on that fateful day at the Cineplex was a newfound love and appreciation for the funky groove and percussion.

Gijsbert Hanekroot/Redferns/Getty Images

War - What is it Good For? Absolutely Everything

By 1975, the year Long Beach, California funk/soul/rock group War released their 7th album, Why Can’t We Be Friends?, the band had become a commercially successful collective. Songs such as “The World is a Ghetto,” “Slipping Into Darkness,” and “The Cisco Kid” charted high on the Billboard 100, receiving widespread national airplay. Mostly on soul and R&B stations, but War was able to cross over into the rock arena as well.

The title track was speaking to the world of the mid-1970s, but it’s just as relevant today, maybe more so.

To quote founder and multi-instrumentalist Leroy “Lonnie” Jordan:

“Our question to the whole world is, why can't we be friends? To black, to white, to Arab, to Jew – why can't we all be friends? We try to communicate to everybody with our musical messages."

"Carnaval San Francisco 2014 Parade Low Riders 112" by sfmission.com is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Any list of top rock songs featuring cowbell has to include “Low Rider.” I’m not sure if it’s drummer Harold Brown or percussionist Papa Dee Allen playing the bell here, but as soon as that iconic opening rhythm hits your ears, your body knows what’s coming, and there’s no stopping it.

Growing up in Southern California, not too far from where War formed, I was very familiar with low riders.

From Gauge Magazine:

Lowriders were first crafted in barrios in the mid-to-late 1940s as unique symbols of personal creativity and Latino cultural identity — a counter-cultural expression against the traditional use of mainstream vehicles.

These iconic cars were actually an evolution of the traditional Mexican paseo, where young men and women would gather in town squares to eye each other and mingle, and the more determined men would arrive on horses decked out like parade floats.

There’s a ton that can be written about low-rider culture. I’m definitely not the person to do it. What I can say is that I can relate to the whole idea of slowing down, of celebrating art and community, of surrounding oneself with vibrant colors and vibrant culture.

That’s what makes War so unique. They combine Latin music, African music, soul, funk, rock, and jazz. Their music, like their fans, is a melting pot. Everyone is welcome. Everyone is a friend.

Note: The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a joke, but a band like War never getting admitted is a travesty.

• Any others out there ambivalent about Star Wars? Willing to admit it in a public forum? 😀

• Do you have a favorite War song? The band War, not the violent, horrific act.

• I rewatched about half of Up in Smoke putting this together. Although extremely dated, most of it still makes me laugh until I cry. I’ll always appreciate Martin Scorcese for putting Cheech and Chong in the film After Hours.

• Famed record and film producer Lou Adler directed Up in Smoke!

  Thanks for following along! - Steve