3 Chords & the Truth: Remembering a friend

Did you have a friend who, in a roundabout way, is why you do what you do today?

Was that friend, by chance . . . a radio station?

As it happens, I am among that geeky subset of folks who can answer yes to that. My radio friend's name was WLCS, also sometimes known during various eras as the Big Win 910 or the Big 91. It made up a big part of the soundtrack of my youth and, sometimes, it was the bright spot during some dark days.

If you appreciate 3 Chords & the Truth, there are a small number of the radio stations of my youth in Baton Rouge, La., that you can thank. WLCS is at the front of that list.

FORTY YEARS ago today, the Big 91 faded into the mists of history. Now it lives only in the memories of those of us who are, as they say, "of a certain age" . . . and as part of the Big Show.

WLCS was, I'd argue, a higher form of social media than what we call "social media" today. Oftentimes, today's social media is downright antisocial. The radio of my youth actually brought people together. The media of today often drives people apart.

I REALIZE this might come off as the whining of an old man, a geezer complaining that things absolutely were better back in the day. I am from the Deep South; that tends, if one is honest with oneself, to immunize against silly nostalgia.

But some things were better. The Big 91 was one of those things. I have it to thank for this thing we call 3 Chords & the Truth.

And, like a friend who has slipped this mortal coil, it lives on. It lives in our memories and in our hearts, and -- in a way -- it lives on right here.

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

3 Chords & the Truth: E pluribus unum

I don't do verbatim transcripts of what I say during 3 Chords & the Truth in this space, where I'm enticing you to actually listen to 3 Chords & the Truth.

And you know what? F*** that. This week, I will, because I had a revelation about what the hell I'm doing here on the Big Show. . . after nearly 17 years.

Here goes.

BEING THE politics nerd that I am, I’ve been watching the Democratic National Convention — and note there’s an -ic on the end of Democrat. Calling a political party the “Democrat Party,” is like calling a Jewish barber a “Jew barber.” It’s a slur; it’s dehumanizing, and we don’t do that in this country.

Or, at least, we used to not do it most places. During Jim Crow, it was the strategy of all the wrong people in the South. I hope I don’t need to elucidate, here.

Anyway, something occurred to me as I watched. Something occurred to me about this show as I reflected on this convention and that other one last month. As I reflected on folks who get their knickers in a twist if, at some social event or another, they think there’s not enough “White” music being played.

And as segregated and as nasty as the Deep South could be when I was growing up, there’s one thing that was great about it — “Black” music was “White” music, too. It was a bunch of what all-white Favog listened to back in the day. And “White” music was a bunch of what my Black high-school classmates listened to.

There was one thing ol’ Jim Crow failed miserably at, and that was in trying to segregate music and make our ears as separate and unequal as everything else.

If you want to know what 3 Chords & the Truth is all about, it’s about America. It’s all “E pluribus unum” all the time — “Out of many, one.”

In brief, there’s only two kinds of music, good and bad. And the bad, we don’t mess with.

If you like this program, there’s one thing I do not need to tell you: Music, like America, cannot be segregated. It does not recognize bigoted hierarchies of worth or authenticity.

And it all belongs. Period. End of sentence . . . and of the argument. If you disagree, you probably have figured out this isn’t the place for you. And, perhaps, neither is this country.

WELL, that's all I have to say about that.

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

3 Chords & the Truth: We got the power

To be honest with you, I couldn't tell you what really happened the night the lights went out in Georgia. I wasn't there.

I can tell you, though, what happened the night the lights went out in Omaha, just as I was getting ready to pick music for what would have been the Aug. 2 edition of the Big Show. It wasn't good.

There's a big pile of limbs and branches sitting in front of the 3 Chords & the Truth culture war bunker, waiting for the city to haul it away. That's one of the smaller piles on the street.

THE STORM that turned out the lights in Omaha also dropped trees and huge limbs on houses all over town -- and on more than a few power lines. One of those houses was next door.

Oh . . . and we had no power for a week. No Internet, either. Obviously.

So, no electricity, no show for two weeks.

After sweating profusely for a few days, then bugging out to our friends' downtown condo after the temperature inside got within spitting distance of the 99-degree heat outside -- this with all the windows open -- the lights finally came back on late on Aug. 7.

And now we're back in business, in brightly lit, Internet enabled, air-conditioned comfort. I gotta tell you, I was getting a little stir crazy only as an old radio/media guy can.

And this week, we're trying to make up for the unplanned absence. Boy, are we. Trust me, this edition of the show is a good one. As usual.

Thus, without any further ado. . . .

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