Dean Torrence - Surf City: The Jan and Dean Story

Copyright 2016 by Dean O. Torrence

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

This edition published by SelectBooks, Inc.

For information address SelectBooks, Inc., New York, New York.

First Edition

ISBN 978-1-59079-403-6

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Torrence, Dean, 1940

Title: Surf city: the Jan & Dean story / Dean O. Torrence.

Description: First edition. | New York: SelectBooks, [2016] | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016023049

Subjects: LCSH: Torrence, Dean, 1940- | Berry, Jan, 1941-2004. | Jan and Dean. | Singers--United States--Biography.

Classification: LCC ML420.T705 A3 2016 | DDC 782.42166092/2 [B] --dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016023049

Book cover design by Dean O. Torrence

Book interior design by Janice Benight

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

CONTENTS

J an & Dean, believe it or not, had a hand in the origins of The Beach Boys. When we heard them on the radio in the late fifties and early sixties, it encouraged my cousins and me to record Surfin because we figured if they had made it, anybody could make it. Even the Bomp Bomp Dip Ta Dip Ta Dips were similar to what we heard from the Uni High School Duo.

Over the years, we have had so much fun, fun, fun and so many memorable interactions. Whether it was onstage in Hawaii at the KPOI Million Dollar Party in July 1964, or on the T.A.M.I. Show in October 1964 that Jan & Dean hosted, we enjoyed a healthy rivalry as well as friendship.

Whether it was coming up with The Beach Boys logo and the 15 Big Ones album cover, or the tremendously popular art for the 50 Years of Fun, Fun, Fun tour and the 50 Years of Good Vibrations tour merchandise featuring the VW bus with the peace symbol, Dean has been an ongoing creative presence in our life. His Grammy-nominated and award-winning Kittyhawk Graphics work is an important part of his resume, and The Beach Boys have been the beneficiary of his creative efforts.

Dean and I have done some memorable things together over the years, whether it was Spring Break concerts for Budweiser as Mike and Dean or recording Christmas songs together. I was also invited by Dean to do a cameo appearance for the movie Deadmans Curve. Plus, one of our biggest hits featured my cousin Brian and Dean on the high falsetto part in Barbara Ann featured on The Beach Boys Party! album. You should check out the 50th anniversary edition of the Party! album that features all three versions of the recording of Barbara Ann, pretty funny stuff!

To this day, whenever the occasion permits, Dean will join us on stage. Its always like a reuniongood friends having a great time together. Im certain you, the reader, will have a great time reading this story that Dean shares with us of his life experience, his Surf City Saga.

Peace and Love,

Mike Love

{19571958}

S itting in a stuffy classroom in the mid-1950s wishing lunch was lessa lot lessthan an hour away. Wishing that three oclock were soonera lot sooner. Wishing June 17, the last day of classes before summer vacation, was tomorrow. My mind was really drifting, even more than usual. I looked longingly out the window on this typically beautiful spring day in West Los Angeles. The sprinklers were running. It was a beautiful sound because it meant that summer was just around the corner. The damp grass smelled wonderful! I was daydreaming about what a great weekend was coming up... and the one after that... and the one after that. Okay, I thought, all weekends past and future were the greatest! But then it occurred to me that the only thing better than a weekend was summer vacation. Now, that was really the greatest!

Whoa! All of a sudden I spot something very much out of the normal range of things to be viewed from this window. There is a student walking outside of the school grounds, on the other side of the fence, mind you, a place that 99.9 percent of the student body would never even consider being. Remember, this was the fifties. Now, not only is this guy not in class, strolling down the street on the other side of the fence, walking in plain view of the many classrooms facing the street for everybody to see, including teachers, but this guy is smoking a cigar! What fuckin nerve! What an asshole, I thought. Hey, isnt that Jan Berry, the rich kid from Bel Air? This guy is blond, good-looking, he is wearing a gray club jacket, he is swaggering, hes on the other side of the fence, and he is puffing on a big stogie. Yep, thats got to be Jan Berry. What an arrogant asshole!

That was my first recollection of William Jan Berry, one of the smartest kids in school, one of the best looking guys in school, and an exceptional athlete to boot. Did I leave out anything? Oh, yeah. He came from one of the wealthiest families in West Los Angeles.

Well, my geometry class did finally end and three or four weeks later summer did eventually arrive and we did get to do what most of our teenage friends didhit the beach. The beach during summer vacation was the center of our universe. My typical summer vacation day started off by sleeping in. Then there would be breakfast outdoors on the patio, sharing buttered cinnamon toast with my favorite blue jay, Mr. Blue. Then it was time to load up my truck with all my beach gear. In the bed of the truck, under a tarp, I kept a twelve-foot balsa wood surfboard, a pair of black pin-striped water skis I had made myself in wood shop, two sets of fins for body surfing, two volleyballs and socks (just in case the sand was too hot), a football, a gym bag full of towels, extra bathing suits, a tube of Coppertone, a deck of cards, and one of the most important beach itemsa portable radio with the dial preset to KFWB, Color Radio. The drive from my house in West Los Angeles to the beach was as important to the overall experience as the day at the beach itself.

Slipping behind the wheel of the 32 Ford Deuce pickup truck with over thirty coats of white lacquer, I was now smelling the scent of new tuck-and-roll leather seats blended with the sweet smells of Coppertone suntan lotion and transmission grease. This was indeed paradise. All of my senses were being bombarded as the sunshine bounced off of the chrome goodies. My unique four-exhaust pipe system, which I had designed myself, made a very distinctive sound. I would pop open a cold bottle of Dr. Pepper, hold it between my legs, switch on the radio tuned to my favorite top 40 station, and off Id go.

My favorite radio station was KFWB Color Radio. They played our music, young peoples music. Teenagers finally had their own music. My parents were still listening to Perry Como, Dean Martin, and Doris Day. The college kids were listening to the Kingston Trio, Harry Belafonte, or Peter, Paul and Mary. We were listening to the Del-Vikings, Dion and the Belmonts, Frankie Avalon, Fats Domino, Carl Perkins, The Platters, Little Richard, The Cadillacs, The Five Satins, The Diamonds, The Everly Brothers, Sam Cooke, Ricky Nelson, the Coasters, and Elvis.