If you're from Omaha or hereabouts, remember this?
I found the little orange promotional sticker some years back on a still-sealed Three Dog Night LP at a local antique store.
KOIL once was everywhere in Omaha. It was the Top-40 powerhouse of this stretch of the Midwest.
It was the Mighty 1290.
But that was when a working man could support a family, marriage meant a little more than it does today, Americans had recently been to the moon, our longest war was Vietnam, and we talked about the American Dream sans a weary, cynical smirk.
Time marches on; old things fall away. New things take their place. Not all of them are better . . . or any g**damn good at all.
Today, KOIL is the overlooked 1180, not the Mighty 1290. Today, the automation server switches between this and that syndicated talk-radio program. Today, KOIL are four letters about which no one really gives a s***.
Today, its glories are all past, and its future isn't anything to waste time thinking about.
Yeah, I'm listening to Bruce Springsteen's latest album right now. At least The Boss is still singing our song, though a sad one it is.
Maybe someday we'll have enough of crying, and. . . .
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