The Cowsills: "The Rain, the Park and Other Things"

November 18, 1967 (2 weeks)

Broke, miserable and with nothing else on the horizon, I returned to work for a spell at a cafe located inside the Calgary hospital in which I was born twenty-six years earlier. I wasn't going to be there for long as I had been determined to return to Asia early in the New Year. It was the same job I'd had a couple years' earlier but I wasn't the same. I resented having to be there and I no doubt did a terrible job of hiding it. I deserved better.

One afternoon near the end of my shift, I saw an older gentleman in a wheelchair trying to get our attention. Customers had to ascend a small set of stairs in order to enter the cafe properly so there were often less mobile individuals we had to serve specially. I gestured to him and informed my co-workers that I'd handle it. I went down the steps and approached him.

"Hi, Mr. Cowsill, what can I get you?"

I daresay interacting with Billy Cowsill in Calgary, Alberta in the early 2000s wasn't an uncommon occurrence. I had in fact spoken to him a few months' earlier at a different cafe after he overheard me talking about my then favourite Beatles' song. (He admitted he'd never heard of anyone who thought the Fab Four never topped George Harrison's "Long, Long, Long") I had also seen him at the Calgary Folk Club with his band The Co-Dependents. Billy always seemed to be around. Even still, an encounter with a pop legend was one that I was not going to take for granted. I got him a coffee and muffin (on the house though I sure as hell didn't pay for it!) and went back behind the counter.

"That guy was once on The Ed Sullivan Show," I said to a co-worker who (bless her) tried to make it look like she cared.

~~~~~

Though Bill and Bob were already capable, it was decided that in order for The Cowsills to have a hit, they would have to rely on outside songwriters. Still, the duo of Artie Kornfeld and Steve Duboff could compose to order. Thus, "The Rain, the Park and Other Things" was written with the family group in mind. One might have expected little more than candy floss pop — and it sure sounds like it at first — but there is something subversive to their breakthrough smash.

Being marketed as a family group and now with their mother Barbara a full fledged member to join Bill, Bob, Barry and John (and with a rather controlling father Bud in a management role), clashed with the musical ambitions of the older boys. Then, younger siblings Paul and Susan began to be added to the lineup as well. With everyone in the group sharing the same surname, it was probably natural that they would have had a clean cut image. Yet, to have a single all about falling for a 'flower girl' was a statement, even if rather subtle one.

This flower girl in "The Rain, the Park and Other Things" represents an independence that The Cowsills wouldn't fully enjoy during their period as a chart act. Yet in spite of family pressures and an embarrassing advertising campaign for the milk industry, it was the countercultural elements that gave them their biggest hits. On the other hand, it was the contradiction of being into psychedelic rock while carrying around the image of a milquetoast all-American family that made them interesting. They would've been boring and predictable as a straightforward pop group and utterly unconvincing had they attempted to look like hippies — even if this wouldn't stop them from trying — so the end result was probably the closest thing to happy medium that we would get.

It's light but "The Rain, the Park..." makes for a highly enjoyable three minutes of listening. It is one of the finest examples of baroque pop from the era and a significant step up from many of the American bubblegum groups that had emerged during the course of 1967 (a scene which many would be forgiven for assuming The Cowsills to have been a part). Their augmented lineup of Mother Cowsill and a pair of little Cowsills ought to have detracted from the summer of love spirit so prized by Billy and Bob but they provide a fuller sound and maybe even a sprinkle of childlike wonder. In any case, has sunshine pop ever been so sunny?

~~~~~

The time I served an ailing Billy Cowsill at the Foothills Hospital has stayed with me, especially after his death just three years' later. I had been feeling entitled to the life that had been denied me up that point. I was lazy, didn't chase after what I wanted and squandered opportunities. But to look at this one-time rock star who had been through an awful lot since the spotlight had been turned off, I could see that very few of us get that life we think we are owed. He'd had a rough go of it with his controlling father, drug addiction and even a spell of homelessness and now he was broken down by life while still only in his mid-fifties.

But the young man who sang lead vocals on "The Rain, the Park and Other Things" was still there. Still rather gangly (when he wasn't either hunched over or in a wheelchair) and with that slightly crooked smile, he looked faintly like The Band's Robbie Robertson. His impeccable manners were present and correct (when my mother met him, he introduced himself as "Bill Cowsill, ma'am", even though he was about three years her senior). Similarly, his devotion to music had never gone astray. One's life might have fairytale moments but that doesn't necessarily mean there will be a fairytale ending. Nevertheless, Billy Cowsill kept going right on to the bitter end.

Score: 7