This edition of the Big Show comes at the end of a week that began with seven shots in the back.
Then it saw two protesters shot dead in the middle of the night by a teenage vigilante, then had a hurricane and Nuremberg for Dummies -- because the other mayhem wasn't enough to satisfy fate. I need a drink, and you need the music. Because the crazy never, ever ends. Otis! Take us away! (And if you want to know what that's all about, listen to the show.) It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there.Aloha.
So consider 3 Chords & the Truth as your personal fire extinguisher and burn cream. Extinguish flames before applying to skin. I mean, really. Some days, it's just hard to roll out of bed, because the stupid -- and the ugly and mean -- is so strong in this country. And then there's the virus, so you're smart if you don't venture too far beyond your bed. Y'know? WELL, you just have to keep on keeping on, keeping the ugly reality in mind but also hoping for the best. The Big Show is a big part of my keeping at it . . . despite everything. (Don't make me think I shoulda stayed in bed! I do like to sleep.) That said, the music is typically great, your host is typically somewhat adequate, etc., and so on. And I spend one set of music pretty much showing off. If you're a music geek, you'll appreciate it. If not, you'll probably still appreciate it. That's pretty much it. Brevity is the soul of wit -- or something. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
The Big Show, we are proud to announce, is sanitary. Sanitation has been achieved.
Being sanitary is important these days -- there's the 'rona goin' round. And we have a very sanitary lineup of music on 3 Chords & the Truth this week. Except for that one thing. And maybe that other one. We do the best we can; it's a filthy world out there. Ask the president . . . but don't get too close. He's not sanitary. Is this enough for you, Skipper? Sometimes, it gets hard to think of new ways to describe the Big Show. Still, I must write something -- and this is it. So, is this enough for you, bucko? Well, it better be. After all, the proof is in the listening, not in my blathering. And remember to stay away from Donald Trump. Not sanitary . . . or anything else that fittin'. That is all. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
COVID-19: "Shut up! Now c'mon. Your money or your life!"
(Long pause.) COVID-19:"LOOK, BUD. I SAID YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE!"
NEBRASKA . . . AND DIRK CHATELAIN: "I'm thinking it over!"
In the hands of the great Jack Benny, that used to be one of the great comedy skits of all time. In the hands of the University of Nebraska and the Omaha World-Herald, it's just another display of our society's seriously screwed-up priorities in the year of our Lord 2020. In the year 2525? Screw that. Apparently, Zager and Evans were off by 475 years.
Consider the hypothetical: The
president of Rutgers University obstructing Nebraska’s ability to
produce one of its biggest economic commodities. Its chief source of
entertainment and cultural influence.
Sounds
foolish, right? But not fictional. That’s essentially what happened
this week when Big Ten leaders voted to cancel an entire college
football season.
This is not
an argument about immunology or sociology. It’s civics. Who has
authority over the welfare of your flagship university? Is it Ronnie
Green and Ted Carter? Or is it Kevin Warren and Big Ten presidents?
There’s
a reason Nebraska school districts made their own decisions on opening
schools this fall. Because the circumstances in Platte County are
different than those in Lincoln or Omaha.
Maybe
losing football doesn’t qualify as a crisis in Piscataway or College
Park or Bloomington. But it’s DEFCON 1 in Lincoln, Ann Arbor and
Columbus. No wonder Scott Frost and Ryan Day aren’t going down without a
fight.
Had
the Big Ten really valued its members this week, commissioner Warren
would’ve resisted the urge for uniformity and enabled schools freedom
this fall. Freedom to compete — or not. If that meant the Big Ten
refusing to sanction games and calling off conference championships, so
be it.
But if Nebraska wants
to play North Dakota State, if Penn State wants to play Syracuse, if
Ohio State wants to play the Cleveland Freaking Browns, let them. This
is not the time to demand lockstop. This is a time to preserve local
economies — and cross country scholarships. This is a time to foster
creativity and open minds.
Excellent question, if I do say so myself. Well, this week on 3 Chords & the Truth, we're escaping somewhere deep into the music. When you feel like you can't take another damn thing, it's good to have a bunch of rockabilly queued up and then go from there.
WHICH IS exactly what we're doing this week on the Big Show. It's the next thing to having a time machine and heading back to a world that was COVID-free, where Trumpism sounded like something having to do with bridge . . . and where you (meaning me) sported fewer pounds and more hair. I guess that sort of sums up this week's show. Alas. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
This edition of 3 Chords & the Truth starts out by cleaning up -- or fervently hoping we'll have the opportunity to pick up, sweep up, mop up and wash up after this fine mess we've made for ourselves in these Benighted States of America.
This comes after your Mighty Favog was forced into a week away from the turntables and the microphone, because the doctor was afraid he'd contracted COVID-19 despite his paranoia about catching the Trump virus. The test was negative, but because the test ain't the greatest, there was a week confined to the bedroom and away from the studio.
Here's hoping to make up for lost time here on the Big Show.
And despite everything . . . we persist.
Our backs are against the wall. Yet, we persist.
We will persist. And we'll persist to a hell of a soundtrack, right here on this here program. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
I need a drink, and you need the music. Because the crazy never, ever ends.
