I'm in my sixteenth year of being a Beach Boys fanatic. And when I tell you that it all started when I was a teenager, you might say I'm getting too old for a group like that.

You might say the Beach Boys' appeal has always been to those little teen-age joys like drive-ins and fast-food palaces and summer romances and other things adults are supposed to grow out of or suppress or both.

You might just be right . But it doesn't matter to me. Nor does it matter to the others in my age group who come out of their closets annually to do a little frolicking with genuine youngsters when the Beach Boys come to town, as they do this weekend, to the Merriweather Post Pavilion.

I used to wonder when the time would come that I'd hear 'Surfer Girl' and say, with embarrassment, "I don't believe I used to like that."

Instead, I found myself pulling into my driveway recently when 'Surfer Girl' came on the radio. I sat in my car and listened to the whole song before getting out and I can honestly say, 'I still like that.'

Beach Boys music has become almost a constant in my life. Kind of like family. It's easy to take, comfortable to be around. The Beach Boys always created images with their lyrics that reflected the sunny dreams of millions:

If everybody had an ocean,

Across the U.S.A.,

Then everybody'd be surfing'.,

Like Californ-eye-aye . . . ,

- from "'Surfin' U.S.A."

Capitol album "Endless Summer, "SYBB 11307

To landlocked kids all over America, these lyrics represented their most fervent wish, particularly in the winter.

We weren't only interested in surfing, beaches and T-Birds. We wondered and worried about our futures too. Some day we'd probably pack in our boards and trade in our dune buggies for station wagons. What would happen when the tans faded and we went over 30?