Thanks to Terry McVey for spotting this classified in The Daily Dunklin Democrat (January 19, 2003). If you missed it, it’s the edition with the story by Buddy Winkle on professional wrestling, featuring James Arness and Psycho.
I heard from a couple of Kennett expatriates this week. Dan Landrum worked with me at KBOA back in the 70’s. He stayed in radio for a while but gave it up to pursue a career in music. On his website he describes himself as “a hammer dulcimer enthusiast and musician, based in Signal Mountain, Tennessee.” He must be pretty good because he’s rehearsing “for an upcoming world tour with Yanni.” That’s pretty cool. Or bizarre. Or both.
A friend of mine, who happens to live in Kennett, Missouri, received a call from a woman this week but couldn’t hear her because of the chainsaw in the background. She said “Excuse me, I’ll go outside.” When he asked about the chainsaw in the house she explained “I needed something fixed and his skillsaw was broke.” Makes a guy homesick.
“It’s no secret that Kennett is Sheryl’s home town. In all my previous visits I had stared in wonder at the place and wondered how a personality like Sheryl could come from somewhere that is essentially a blank (and flat) canvas.”
From the September 12, 2002 entry in Chris Hudson’s Tour Diary. Not quite sure who Chris Hudson is but he (she?) made the trip to Kennett when Sheryl Crow went home to recognize the efforts of some local first graders who won a contest with their book about September 11.
Couldn’t find any bio on Hundson, so I don’t know if he’s part of Sheryl’s band, her web guy or just someone that travels with her. But it was interesting to get his take on the old home town. I’m guessing that –like Sheryl– he rubs elbows with the glitterati. Unlike her, he ain’t from Kennett and it’s a long way from L.A. and N.Y. to Kennett, MO.
Radio station KBOA went on the air on July 19, 1947. Today, 55 years later, that station doesn’t really exist anymore. Frequencies have been sold and shifted, call letters transferred. But the station’s early days make a great story. Five years ago I created a website in an effort to preserve some of that history. My father worked at the station for 30+ years and I worked there for a dozen. I recently came across recordings of jingles, old commercials, and oral histories by the men who put the station on the air.
It was a time when radio shows had names (Noonday Serenade, Rise and Shine, Old Camp Meetin’ Time) and commercials were read live or recorded on huge discs. The recently unearthed interviews offer a unique insight into the time, the people and the communities they served.
Mr. Rudy will celebrate his 81st birthday this month. He calls himself “The World’s Oldest Disc Jockey” and it could very well be true. He got his first announcing job in 1946 at WLOF in Orlando, Florida. What’s that…56 years? I don’t think he’s been on the air continuously but he was never off for long and always near the edges. I stopped by (they’ve messed with the call letters and frequencies so much I can’t tell what’s what) in Kennett, Missouri, a few weeks ago and stood in the back of the studio while he finished his shift. I can safely say there is nobody else on the air doing the same kind of radio as Mr. Rudy. He’s celebrating his birthday by performing with, The Redneck Rhythm Rangers at the Kennett American Legion Building. (Musical footnote: one of the musicians is Wendell Crow, father of Sheryl).
I sold the family home this week. Not really a home for the last few years, but the place my brother and I grew up. I actually remember some of the places we lived before Evelyn persuaded John it made more sense to own than rent. I think they paid about $5,000 for the house back in the early 50’s. Probably paid $50 a month for 30 years. Evelyn had our trash guy plant a couple of little sycamore trees and they grew to 70 foot monsters before John had cut down because he got tired of “having leaves all over the yard.” Evelyn was gone by then.
50 years at 500 Walter Street boiled down to set of mis-matched golf clubs; a box of trophies (Blane’s); some really heavy high school year books; a set of 78 RPM records from the 40’s; a couple of pounds of mold and mildew; and a lifetime of memories. Everyone kept asking me if it was difficult to sell the house in which our family had lived all those years. I said no and that was more true than not. But for two days I kept hearing Peter, Paul and Mary singing The House Song.
This room here once had childish laughter
And I come back to hear it now and again
I can’t say that I’m certain what you’re after
But in this room, a part of you will remain.
In July of 1972 I got a job working at the local radio station. Jeff Wheeler showed me how to clear the AP wire. How to cue up a 45. How to watch the clock and read and do something with my hands, all at the same time. I worked with Jeff for about a dozen years and I never heard him raise his voice. One day while I was reading a newscast, he walked into the studio with his bright red golf pants on backward. He didn’t jump around or say anything. He patiently waited until I noticed the zipper in the back. End of newscast. Jeff is still doing radio but these are not good times for him. I’m remembering –and looking forward to– better days.
I loved that Peter Parker sort of threw together his first Spider-Man costume and it looked like it. And it would be silly to waste precious screen minutes establishing where he got his official outfit. But didn’t you wonder? We have to assume it didn’t come off the rack, so it was custom made. Maybe by the same tailor that makes all the WWF costumes.
While Superman’s costume was indestructible, we saw –in the final battle with the Green Goblin– that Spider-Man’s is not. So, did he have a few extra made? And what happens when they get dirty and pitted out. Wash or dry clean? Hangers or folded?
I’ve had some experience in this area. For several years I lived a double life, too. Captain Banana was one of my alter egos during my radio days. My mom made my costume for me. Thermal underwear, Day-Glo cowboy boots and a plastic motorcycle helmet. It was one hot mother. I wore it for a charity Bike-a-thon and nearly died.
I really liked the movie. I’m not sure how special effects can get much better than the final 40 seconds of Spider-Man. If there was a weak spot it was probably Willem Defoe as the Green Goblin. But I respect the guy for taking the part. I mean, he played Jesus for Christ’s sake.
My original idea for a blog was to persuade half a dozen of the more interesting people I know to jot down a few lines every week or so and I’d post them here. It required more organization than I could muster.
Last week I received an email from one of The Six that perfectly captures my original idea. My friend had taken a photograph he had to share. Now, you either get butt-crack humor or you do not. I would have guessed there were lots of websites dedicated to this phenomenon but a Google search didn’t reveal much.
For me the best part is the image of my friend coming out of his office, spotting the photo-op, racing back in to find and load his camera, then dashing back to the street to take the picture. That requires a… joie de vivre that’s very rare, in my experience.
As I thought about my original concept I became mildly depressed that I could only come up with six interesting friends. After receiving the butt-crack photo, I consider myself fortunate to know that many.