Before the tragic drownings, mental breakdowns, terrible literary decisions, and this insufferable 'piece of baby boomer trash overshadowed the group’s legacy, this dusty, nondescript corner of the earth cradled the ultimate piece of Beach Boys memorabilia: their childhood home. Indeed, this forgotten pocket of Los Angeles land, nestled against the "gorgeous" Century Freeway in Hawthorne, is where the Wilson bros once devoured meals, tackled homework, and argued about Brian stealing the top bunk. And even though the house has vanished into the sands of time, we've been bestowed with a delightful monument to commemorate this peculiar spectacle.
But before we plunge into the landmark itself, let's wrap our brains around the Beach Boys and the seismic impact their music left on the world. With velvety harmonies and chart-toppers like 'Good Vibrations' and 'I Get Around', the bros conjured a unique and experimental sound that still echoes through the ears of audiences today. As gods of California culture, Brian Wilson and company introduced the world to the 'California Girl' concept—a universal (albeit pretty offensive) trope that clings to our cultural consciousness. They also taught us all to surf, even if some of us have never laid eyes on an ocean, and let's not forget the groundbreaking album 'Pet Sounds', a masterpiece born out of Brian's maddening jealousy over The Beatles' 'Sgt. Pepper'. But I've meandered a bit; let's refocus on the monument.
From a distance, what appears to be a tiny brick house made for elves when they’re vacationing from the North Pole situated in the world's least sexy location turns out to be a decent—by plague standards—tribute to SoCal's favorite trio of brothers with the last name Wilson.
Majestic and ornate, encountering the monument in person will evoke a warm feeling, suggesting that whoever dedicated the time and energy to construct this behemoth genuinely cared about the subject at hand. There's a sense of real integrity and care woven into the fabric here. Bravo.
The majority of the base is composed of bricks, but not just any old brick, commemorative bricks!!—presumably sourced from hefty donations by wealthier super fans. Unsurprisingly, each brick is adorned with a generic word of kindness or a goofy inspirational quote, followed up by a rather waspy-sounding last name via the donor themself. And who could overlook the boys of summer themselves—etched into a stone centerpiece, looking quite dapper with their signature surfboard in tow. With smiles, well-coiffed hair, and not a care in the world, one might easily forget that the Beach Boys were, in reality, incredibly dysfunctional, drug-addled, and had deep connections to the left coast's favorite murderous cult leader, Charles Manson. But hey, it was the '60s, and they did pen some pretty rockin' tunes! All is forgiven.
Of course, it wouldn't be official without a plaque to commemorate the occasion. Now, I know what you're thinking—while it might be amusing to imagine the Wilson brothers spending their childhood inhaling gas fumes and enduring the horrific sounds of car crashes from the nearby highway on a daily basis, the area was a vastly different place during their formative years. You see, this was a time when our beloved 105 Freeway didn't exist in these parts of the state, and the Boys' home was bulldozed in the '80s to make room for its expansion.
However, once you look beyond the monument, the current surroundings of the area leave much to be desired: scorched grass, scattered garbage, and lifeless plants create an ambiance more reminiscent of a day surfing in the Salton Sea than a homage to one of rock's most beloved acts.
Yet, I won't rain on the parade here; this is a pretty solid tribute. Nothing screams SoCal like these lovable scamps and their girl-chasing, surfs-up, "California is the greatest place ever" attitude (apologies to the Red Hot Chili Peppers). Come by and soak up those good vibrations. Just don't forget to bring a gas mask.
