Mesa Musings:

A few days ago, as I lunched at a Costa Mesa eatery, chart-toppers from the 1960s played over the restaurant’s sound system.

While biting into a tasty burrito, I heard the introductory notes of my all-time favorite rock tune. For a moment, I was transported back in time.

Is it the best rock song ever written? Hardly. The best band assembled? Nope. Put simply, it’s a seminal tune that appeared at a seminal moment in my life.

The song of which I speak is “Hang on Sloopy,” by the McCoys. The tune reached No. 1 in America in October 1965, and sold more than 6 million records.

I was a 20-year-old Army-enlisted man, stationed in Seoul, Korea. I fell crazy-in-love with the song. For some reason, “Sloopy” resonated with homesick GIs. It was played almost nonstop on barracks’ sound systems, and was a hit on Army jukeboxes. It was played in service clubs and Army nightclubs on post, as well as in GI nightspots in the “vill” (the local village outside the post’s main gate). And it was just as popular with troops in Vietnam.

The song begins with a pulsating rhythm not unlike other rock classics of the day, including “Wooly Bully” (1965) and “Louie, Louie” (1963). I love all three, but nothing — in my opinion — measures up to Sloopy.

In the spring of 1966 I watched a touring Japanese band sing phonetically the lyrics of “Hang on Snoopy” (not “Sloopy”) at an NCO club in Korea. Whether they mistakenly thought the song was about Charles M. Schulz’s famous canine, or just had difficulty pronouncing the name, I’m not certain, but it was a valiant effort. We GIs applauded heartily.

“Hang on Sloopy” is a typical ’60s rock anthem that depicts youthful angst. A young couple are challenged to overcome economic inequality and parental condemnation in order to make their relationship work. The singer — a middle-class chap — is passionately in love with Sloopy, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

It’s reported by some rock devotees that American jazz musician Dorothy Sloop served as inspiration for Sloopy. A native of Steubenville, Ohio, Sloop — called “Sloopy” by her fans — was a successful pianist during the 1930s though the ’50s.

Speaking of Steubenville, the McCoys were much loved in the Buckeye State. In 1985, the Ohio State General Assembly named “Hang on Sloopy” the state’s song, making Ohio the only state in the union to have an official rock song. That’s no empty accolade, considering that Ohio is home to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

The Assembly’s resolution read in part:

“WHEREAS, Adoption of this resolution will not take too long, cost the state anything, or affect the quality of life in this state to any appreciable degree; and

“WHEREAS, ‘Sloopy lives in a very bad part of town, and everybody, yeah, tries to put my Sloopy down’; and

“WHEREAS, ‘Sloopy, I don’t care what your daddy do, ’cause you know, Sloopy girl, I’m in love with you’; therefore be it RESOLVED…”

That same year, the Ohio State University marching band fashioned its own arrangement of “Sloopy” and performed it for the first time at the 1985 Ohio State-Illinois football game. It proved an instant hit.

The song is now played at all OSU football games. Other schools have taken up the torch as well. I’ve heard Costa Mesa High School’s band play it numerous times over the years.

You can bet your sweet bippy we’ll hear it at the Rose Bowl on Jan. 1.

Reads the scarlet and gray website: “Perhaps it is the simplicity of ‘Hang on Sloopy’ that allowed it to become such an irreplaceable part of Ohio State football games. The rhythm is identifiable, and the melody is simple and easy to remember. Though the fundamental elements are simple, their influence on a stadium crowd is overwhelming.”

I was the elder statesman at the restaurant the other day as I sat enjoying my burrito. Pride welled within my breast as “Sloopy” was imparted via the sound system to a new generation.

I don’t give a fig if the song is trite, contains fractured English, or was labeled by culture critic Bill O’Reilly as “one of the dumbest songs ever.” I like it!

And, Sloopy girl, after 44 years you’re still lookin’ pretty darned twitchin’!

JIM CARNETT lives in Costa Mesa. His column runs Wednesdays.