To Marty’s way of thinking, life hit the epitome of perfection in the late ‘60’s. The early ‘70’s barely past muster. After that, it was all downhill. The ramp up to the Summer of Love was thrilling. Each song was a jewel, with tight lyrics, a catchy beat and a way of seeing the world that felt real, vital and just simply right. Marty has moved on in the sense of having been married, hatching two kids – two boys he rarely speaks to and signing divorce paper. It was only when he started building his man cave out in the wilds of New Hampshire, that his life sparked anew. With no one listening he could sing, actually scream There is a house in New Orleans… No one tells him to shut up or get over himself.