The Corpus PBS channel is on a fund-raising tear, something they seem to do about every other month. I notice that when they go looking for money, they apparently target the, you might say, older segment of their viewership. You can go a long time without doo-wop specials anywhere, but let them start a drive and you're gonna find the Drifters and the Coasters and all those Philadelphia Italians that were so much fun back ca. 1959 and "Duke of Earl" and 'Still of the Night" and other such delights. The old boys and girls are a little the worse for wear but still willing, if sometimes unable to hit the high notes anymore. It's fun to see them. Other night I turned on the PBS channel and someone was singing "The Wayward Wind," a distinctive song that starts with a flourish of French horns and is full of restless wanderer angst. Came out in 1956 or I'm slipping. I assume the very matronly singer was Gogi Grant, who did the original. I don't recall Gogi Grant ever doing any other song that amounted to anything. The funny thing was that there were in the audience people leaning on walkers and boogieing along with her. Really, walkers. Somehow that just ain't right. Or maybe it is.
Tonight Willy and Merle and Ray Price were on and still pretty good, though here, too, the old vocal range is diminished … but the spirit is willing. That is a great lineup. If you want money, go for the AARP crowd.
5 comments:
My father had several Gogi Grant albums, the only music I ever remember him buying. But somehow I don't remember "The Wayward Wind" from his albums. I seem to remember it from a movie, perhaps. The radio for sure. Anyway, that song must have been the beginning of my downfall because right then and there I started looking for someone who was kin to the wayward wind . . .
These days I feel more like the next of kin to a moss-covered stone. Not much rolling going on.
Funny. Last time I saw you, I was thinking you LOOKED like a moss-covered stone.
Now you're speaking to my heart, Mr Loon. How I love those oldies but goodies. Some music is just timeless. I, in fact, saw Willie, John Mellencamp (ok, not so much an oldie, but I could have sworn he was a good decade younger than his 57 years), and Bob Dylan just this Sunday at the Woodlands. What a show, what a show. A good friend of mine saw Ray Price at Floores' Country Store in Helotes a few years back, and it was a most satisfying performance. It seems the older these guys get, the better they become. They may not be able to hit the highest notes anymore, but their voices take on a rich nuance that only time and a whole lot of living can impart. We are losing these gems much too fast these days. I'm grateful there are still a few around.
On a related note, I read that the lead singer of the Inkspots, Huey Long, died a few weeks back in my beloved hometown of Houston. There is a museum, from what in understand, in H-town dedicated to him, although I haven't visited it yet. I do believe it might have been better to visit it while he was living, somehow. My advice: get out and see these performers while you can. Once they're gone, their shoes cannot be filled.
Chats – I was probably facing north and you misread my ill-kempt beard for moss.
Shug – Tonight they went one generation further back and had Glenn Miller. I love Glenn Miller. The Ink Spots, yes.
Kari – I plunder through my admittedly faulty memory and can't remember another Gogi Grant song.
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