3 Chords & the Truth: I fall to pieces

I turned on the Internet stream of my high-school radio station this morning just in time to hear the DJ mention that this spring, they're kicking off WBRH's 45th anniversary celebration.

Wut?

I was there then. I can tell you what the first record was. I was a junior in Radio I.

In 1977.

Forty-five years ago.

S***.  

IT ALSO HAPPENS that I have a birthday coming up in a few days. It would appear that I'm no longer 18, much less 16.

It would appear that I'm 45 years older than 16.

S***.

That would explain that when I walk by, I fall to pieces. A little help here . . . I've fallen, and I can't get up.

Well,  that kind of sets the scene for this week's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth. Expect some music from when I was 61 years younger than I am now . . . and 39 years younger . . . and 47 years younger . . . and 51 years younger . . . and you get the gist here.

IT'S MY PARTY, and I'll play what the hell I want to. Fortunately for you, it's all good. Every bit of it. That's what we've all come to expect of the Big Show. 

And that's a very good thing. It was a very good year. All of 'em. 

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

The records that made me (some of 'em): Calcutta!

This influential LP came later in life -- as in, I-was-over-50 later in life. But influential is influential, a revelation is a revelation no matter how delayed, so here goes No. 9 on the list -- "Calcutta!" by Lawrence Welk.

As a Baby Boomer of a certain age, I absolutely was force-fed a diet of The Lawrence Welk Show every weekend. Saturday night on the network . . . Saturday or Sunday afternoon in syndication, you could count on Lawrence, Myron, Joe, Norma, Arthur, Bobby, Cissy, Gail and Dale to cheese up the living room TV set so much, all you really needed was a box of Ritz crackers for your evening to be complete.

Mama and Daddy loved The Lawrence Welk Show. And Mama and Daddy controlled the television when it counted -- the precise times for 1) Lawrence Welk on Saturday afternoons, 2) The Gospel Jubilee on Sunday mornings, and 3) whenever The Porter Wagoner Show was on -- maybe Saturday, maybe Sunday afternoon.

Unfortunately for my force-fed self, The Lawrence Welk Show was . . . was . . . was. . . .

A half century later, I am at a loss for words.

I, however, can show you:


NOW YOU KNOW why folks got one toke over the line.

In short, Lawrence Welk represented, for all of my youth, a big, lame joke. When it wasn't being the Abomination of Geritol Nation.

Well into married life, my wife -- subjected, in her youth, to the same Welk abuse as myself -- and I would watch reruns of the show on public TV for the sheer irony and hathos of it all. Sometimes, we still do.

Then at an estate sale one Sunday, one of the LP treasures of a passing generation presented itself to me. "Aw, what the hell," I told myself as I grabbed "Calcutta" for ironic listening enjoyment.

I cleaned the vintage 1961 vinyl, plopped it on the record player, and immediately a huge problem jumped right off the grooves and into my smug, superior little shit of a face.

The @#&%!$*!# album was good.

The Welk orchestra almost . . . Dare I say it? . . . No, I CAN'T! . . . Go on, say it, you little frickin' WIMP! . . . DON'T YELL AT ME!!!! . . . the Welk orchestra almost . . . uh . . . swung. It was really tight. And the "Calcutta" Welk was so much more fun than that Geritol- and Serutan-fueled weekly video constitutional might suggest.

YOU DON'T EXPECT, at least not in one's 50s, for it to be so earthshaking to discover one's parents -- well, at least kinda sorta -- were right. But on a matter involving such a deeply held principle? About something that strikes at the core of Boomer generational solidarity?

Consider my earth shaken, if not also stirred.

God help me, the title cut was fun. (I was already familiar with the "Calcutta" single, just not with the idea that it was "fun.") "Perfidia" was even better. Exquisite, even.

God help me, I had to give Lawrence Welk his due. I had been influenced.

And I wasn't even one "modern spiritual" over the line.

3 Chords & the Truth: A mighty hot wind

They say, as we Midwesterners endure a summer of epic proportions, that the last step before you dry up, turn into cinders and blow away is you look like this -- "this" being House Speaker John Boehner.

Oh, crap.

Well, in that case, perhaps the theme of this week's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth should be "Just a Song Before I Go." At least it's a show on which I could be proud to check out . . . thank you, Timi Yuro!

AND John Prine.

And Red Foley.

And Charley Pride.

And Patti Smith. (Didn't see that one coming, did you?)

And Timmy Thomas.

And OK, Go.

And Sam Beam, a.k.a., Iron & Wine.

And U2.

And Tonio K.

AND IF you'd like to hear future episodes of the Big Show, send water and cooler weather to Omaha, by God, Nebraska. I'm pretty sure my sun-dried, Boehner-burnt remains are gonna need to be rehydrated next week. Really cool music can do only so much, alas.

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

Who needs radio? Not Mad Men

Back when Top-40 radio was in on the national conversation, it could take a song from a TV show and turn it into a hit record.

The last time I remember this happening was in the mid-1990s when Friends debuted on the small (and low-def) screen. And now?What is this "radio" that you speak of?

Don Draper, superb Mad Man ad man that he is, don't need no stinkin' radio to stir the cultural pot. He just needs a TV show, iTunes and social media.

And now, a mere 24 hours after appearing on the HD screen in living rooms across America, the new Mrs. Draper -- otherwise known as actress Jessica Paré -- had taken her remake of the Mad Men-era "Zou Bisou Bisou" to No. 109 on the iTunes "Top Songs" chart with a bullet.

Or at least an amazing pair of . . . uhhh . . . fishnet stockings.

OH, you also can buy "Zou Bisou Bisou" as a 7-inch vinyl single on the Mad Men website.

From the Chicago Sun-Times:

Showing a lot of leg — and chutzpah — the new Mrs. Megan Draper (Jessica Pare) delivered a sexy serenade to her husband at his surprise 40th birthday party, purring the early ’60s French pop song “Zou Bisou Bisou.”

The French-Canadian chanteuse’s performance made the unflappable Don Draper blush and his co-workers’ jaws hit the floor, while the Twittersphere lit up and countless viewers were infected with an earworm that sounds like Scooby Dooby Doo.

“At the time, I was like, ‘I can’t believe I’m new on this show and the first thing I have to do is an entire song-and-dance routine for the whole cast of “Mad Men,’’ ’ ” said Pare, who catapulted from a peripheral character last season to center stage in Sunday’s premiere. The two-hour episode drew a series-high 3.5 million viewers, a 21 percent increase over last season’s premiere.

MAINTENANT, MES AMIS, je te présente la version 1961 de «Zou Bisou Bisou» par chanteuse anglaise Gillian Hills:

DIckens 4-5275

Good afternoon, WAIL.

Hello, Marge?

This is Marge.

Hey, Marge. Let me talk to Pappy.

I'll transfer you to the studio.

Pappy? Can you play "Blue Moon"? My newborn baby boy is gonna grow up to really like that song, I think, and I was wonderin' if you could put it on. I'll put that GE table radio I won from you last year next to the crib.

I'll get it on for you.


Thank you kindly, Pappy.

Spaced-age advertising

Who knew people were having so much fun in '61?

The Space Age, indeed.

What? Weed & Company? Broadcast-ad representatives?

Oh. Never mind.