Friday, May 31, 2019

How to create middle-age stranglers

May 30, 1966.

Buddhist monks were setting themselves alight as the war in Vietnam intensified apace. Surveyor 1 headed for the first soft lunar landing of an unmanned American spacecraft. The Klan was being the Klan in Denham Springs, La. -- which meant that Denham Springs was just being Denham Springs.

And "A WOWIE ZOWIE ZING-A-LING SWING-A-LING THING" had just hit Baton Rouge. The Teen-Age Rattler apparently was "the new fun sensation sweeping the nation."

The reaction to this, no doubt, from every person old enough in 1966 to have spawned a teenager was "Oh, joy." Note the lack of an exclamation point.

THE TEEN-AGE RATTLER was billed as being some sort of bad-complexioned, ill-tempered, bastard child of a hula hoop and maracas.

The "bad-complexioned, ill-tempered and bastard child" parts of the description are solely mine.

I gotta tell you that, as a 5-year-old kid in Baton Rouge on Memorial Day 1966, I would have loved this shit. My parents, not so much.

BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

For just a measly extra buck, you could buy a 45 single of the original Teen-Age Rattler song, "as recorded by the sensational Happy Four quartet." As opposed to the sensational Happy Four septet.
Considering that you could go down to the TG&Y dime store and buy a hot-off-the-record-press copy of the Beatles' "Paperback Writer" for something like six bits, I can't see the Happy Four's rattlin' wreck of a hack promotional song as much of a bargain.
THEN AGAIN, this is the 58-year-old me talking and not the 5-year-old me talking. On the other hand, the 5-year-old me had his share of Beatles' records. Until July 1966, that is.
July was the month John Lennon's "we're more popular than Jesus" interview hit the States, and Mama busted up my Beatles records. It was Louisiana; she was far from alone. Apparently, cracking up commie records from Limey purveyors of beatnik music was less inconvenient than actually attending worship services.

Not that I'm still bitter or shit.

BUT BACK to May 1966 and the Teen-Age Rattler.

At the time, the Teen-Age Rattler made no impression on the pre-kindergarten me whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I'd never heard of the things until . . . well . . . today.

My best guess is that the "Rattle in the morning . . . rattle at night . . . rattle anytime . . . it's dynamite!" sensation was a sensation in the same vein Donald Trump is sentient -- hardly.

After all, there DID come to be a Generation X. That could not have happened had the "greatest generation" quite understandably been driven to cut short the rattling lives of their rattling teen offspring.

Now let us speak no more of this. We wouldn't want to give rogue youth social-media "influencers" any ideas.

Friday, May 24, 2019

3 Chords & the Truth: Smart sets for the Smart Set


The Big Show is not your average music program.

That's because you're not your average listener. You're part of the Smart Set, and you deserve smart sets. And that you get every week on 3 Chords & the Truth.

This week is no exception.

Aannnnnd . . . apparently I'm supposed to say more here, even when that seems so very unnecessary. Well . . . um . . . so . . . I . . . .

Nope, I got nothin'. Everything that needs to be said, I have said.

So, then. All that's left is this:

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.










Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Dude sounds like he's on pot


National politics is so dysfunctional, disheartening and -- frankly -- bat-shit crazy that I largely have lost the will to comment on such a shitshow.

Sen. John Kennedy
Which brings me to Louisiana's junior U.S. senator, John Kennedy. And the matter of shit.

There is much that could be said about Kennedy. Most would fall under the category of dysfunctional, disheartening and -- frankly -- bat-shit crazy.

But I will say this: I am a Southerner and there is no way in hell I would vote for any Southern politician who can't keep his metaphors straight.

"Urinate or get off the pot?"  Really? Really?

REALLY???

I am old enough to have used the proverbial pot, which my Louisiana family referred to a a "slop jar." And I well know the choice that we all face in life: Shit or get off the pot.

And Kennedy's mangling of a damned fine metaphor is just too damned much to take. Get it straight, podna, or shut the f*** up.

That is all.

Saturday, May 18, 2019

3 Chords & the Truth: A Dacron state of mind


Call me Dacron.

Dacron. Dacron Polyester.

The Big Show this week is in a Dacron state of mind. Very double-knit. Give me some Boone's Farm, and I might get triple-knit to the wind.

That's pretty much where your Mighty Favog -- and 3 Chords & the Truth -- happen to be this week. Stuck in the 1970s. Actually, in retrospect, that's not such an awful place to be.

Especially musically.

HERE'S THE thing: It occurred to me the other day that next week, specifically May 23, marks the 40th anniversary of my graduation from Baton Rouge Magnet High School. And as you'll be able to tell from the show, my mind is still 18.

My body, not so much.

But, damn, the music is so good. Thank you Young Favog.

You're quite welcome, Old Fart Favog.

Now cue the nostalgia . . . along with the usual eclecticism.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Friday, May 10, 2019

3 Chords & the Truth: An unapologetic blot


The Big Show is an unapologetic blot on the face of mindless musical conformity.

Do now what you will with that. I don't care.

3 Chords & the Truth is all about the music, exquisite taste and creative programming . . . not dumb preconceptions from the Usual Suspects. And boy, howdy, is this edition of the program an example of that.

You betcha, pally.

That is all. My throat hurts, and my typing fingers are sympathizing.

It's . . . well, you know what it is. Be there. Aloha.


Thursday, May 02, 2019

They get pretty brazen once the holidays are done


Look out the window. See turkeys.

Apparently, that's just how we roll in our neighborhood here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska.