Reading beyond this very word without having read the prior “Button” chapters leaves you in peril of a sensory overload.  Okay, you’ve been warned. 

The scene: A massive stadium crammed to capacity with 50,000 howling blood lusting  onlookers, watching me perform on a skateboard. 

I have just emerged from a downward spiral that plummeted me to the curved bottom, and now I am caroming, rushing upward, blinded by the myriad of overhead lights, to execute the near impossible double mid-air rotation at the apex of  a 2O foot vertical  spin.   

I feel my body become weightless, free of gravity, then I am whimsically boomeranged, lose control and begin diving into what will surely be a bone shattering crash. It is here that I am mercifully jerked awake after a convulsive moan. Carol reaches over, gives me a caress and says softly, “It’s okay  darling. It’s only your skateboard crash. Dream.”                  

This new series of nightmares erupted when I began skateboarding a few years ago. Back then, I was fast walking in the neighborhood, when I happened upon some boisterous skateboarding boys who were getting up a head of steam, propelling themselves up a sharply curved plywood ramp, twisting their lithe bodies mid-air, straightening up at the last millisecond, and landing in a smooth glide on the street.  

I never managed the double rotation or “ 720”, much less the “360,” and took a lot of spills  before I could stay upright on a level street. 

This is better than my old frustration dream. For years, I would dream that I was at a new air gig, didn’t know the board, and was short on the music by several dozen records. 

But, none of those frustration dreams matched the reality that I experienced when Paul Weston called me one morning after my morning show at KCBQ in San Diego. 

“Harry, I know you and Sinatra are friendly. He said disarmingly, “We need your help.” I said, “sure,” before I know what I was agreeing to. “Tell me.” I said like whatever you want is fine with me, Paul. 

Paul was one of my best ever friends and I was always open to whatever I could do for Frank with whom I had become friendly since the pre-army KLAC days.. As his career soared, he was almost beyond reach of my being able to do anything for him, so I grabbed at the chance. 

If you will recall the last episode, Paul laid it on me that I was to find a small local rehearsal venue for Frank, complete with live audience, none of whom had been tipped that he would be there. Once the way was clear, Frank would come down, sing, gauge their honest reaction, and vanish without a trace. The way Paul put it was that Frank wanted to appear publicly without creating a blip on the seismic scale, and  try out a new technique that he was working on.  

A blip! Was he kidding? Frank, in just a few years, had become the hottest man in the country and I was shaken by the thought that Paul wanted me  to spirit him down here without causing an earthquake, much less a blip. 

Paul thanked me and hung up before I could holler, “Hey!  Wait a minute!”. 

As I had related in the last episode, my great friend and new boss, Al Heacock had been listening in on my phone visit with Weston, and heard my grunt of total confusion when  I hung up.  

Turning to Al, I pieced together the crazy quilt of Paul’s call to me.. He listened pensively, and when I was finished, asked me to let him do some thinking, for me just to do my show, and to let him take care of  it.  

Meantime, I called Paul and told him with great aplomb that I would  “get back” to him. He betrayed his own lack of certainty by asking.,” Does that mean that you can handle it?” he asked. “Sure,” I replied forcing confidence into my trained radio  voice. 

Al Heacock possessed one of the finest minds in or out of the business. Later, he went on with me from KCBQ to WADO in New York then we split when I went to Cleveland to join Specs Howard for an amazing turn in Cleveland and Detroit.  

Al segued to program WBZ in Boston, and later to Manage KDKA in Pittsburgh before an untimely death. 

Those who know these things said Al would have been running a major operation within a few years, but you can get an index to his thought processes by the way he handled this situation  with Frank. 

I finished my morning show the next day, and joined Al in his office where he sat silently, waiting to expound on a problem which he had turned over in his mind and had now resolved. 

Al, more to himself than me, said, “The way I understand it, Paul called, asking you to arrange a private concert for Frank, in which Frank would show up un- expectedly, sing before a small knowledgeable audience, and try out a new technique which he doesn’t want to share with Nelson Riddle or anyone in Hollywood until he has ironed out the wrinkles. Is that the gist of it? 

I nodded. 

He went on. “Your problem is that you think your afternoon colleague, Don Howard has a perfect place for Frank to do this, Don’s Club Tempo, but you are concerned that if you tip off Don ahead of time, Don will spread it all over town that Sinatra is coming to his place, and ruin what Frank is trying to achieve, rehearsing without fanfare or distraction. 

I nodded. 

He paused a for a long moment and finally spoke. “Okay here is what we do. First, you stay out of it.” 

I didn’t like where this was going. 

Al went on, “I will tell Don to be at Club Tempo on the night Frank and Paul decide on. I will not tell him why, but tell him that he is the core of a secret promotion. I will tell him that not even you know about it, and that all he has to do is provide a good sound system, be there, and stand by.” 

It ran against my grain to let Don Howard, my friendly rival, be handed such a plum , but Al was right…..damn it!   

He went on. 

“Tell Paul that Frank will have to provide any musicians he needs, but that it is a small room that seats around 30. .Don has a piano there. I will tell him to make sure it’s tuned, 

I agreed. Don often had small local groups come in and play. San Diego was blessed with fine jazz musicians and the concerts were first rate. It was always jazz.  Howard, now a major rock player, despised rock. 

I stayed out of it, as ordered, and turned Paul over to Al who coordinated the final details of Frank’s arrival. 

I did get a call into Paul and asked him to explain to Frank about my low profile in this scene, that it was matter of diplomacy and why. Paul laughed. This was in line with his practice of sublimating his own ego in order to get things done. He said he would tell Frank who would be amused at my uncharacteristic humility. 

The night of Frank’s appearance was a giant event in the life of Don Howard. Frank came in, and nailed the shocked audience with his upbeat finger snapping rhythmic singing. Don got to emcee a breakthrough appearance by  Frank Sinatra. 

All were songs that Sinatra would perform on an upcoming LP with Nelson Riddle. Not even Riddle knew about this black operation.  

The album came out and was regarded as one of the greatest performances by an artist ever. Critics noted that Frank had mastered the songs, delivering them with a fresh approach, unlike any in his career. 

A standout in the album was his take on  “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” in which he sang, joyously, often letting the lyrics deliver the beat, with him riding above the tempo looking down on the song from another dimension, a sort of  “out of song” experience. 

If memory serves, the two musicians he brought into the performance that evening were Barney Kessel on guitar and Paul Smith at the piano, two of the most inventive musicians in history who happened to be San Diegans. 

That evening, there was nowhere Frank would go musically that they could not follow. Paul Smith would soon peel off and accompany Ella Fitzgerald, one of the most creative singers ever. Frank’s performance was a perfect evening, and I greatly regret that it was not recorded. 

Of course, I snuck in a cameo meeting at the airport with Frank just as he was about to enter a chartered four seater prop plane for his return flight.  In the near future, it would be a Lear jet.

He was ecstatic over his performance that evening. At heart, he was a lounge singer and 30 hip people in the audience was the perfect mix. 

A little small talk between us and he took off  into a stratospheric career. 

The ruse was perfect. Don Howard never learned of my role. He received such a deep ego massage that he began treating me as a colleague.  

Al Heacock was exultant to have been the prime player in this Machiavellian drama with the resultant new balance among us two ego-ridden jocks. He had created the perfect spiritual foundation for the station, that went on to become a rock radio template. 

The best example that I can give you of achieving that harmony all stations strive for, is that within a few days, Don invented and gave me the name “Happy Hare.” No one ever names themselves such an outrageous name as ”Happy Hare.” Don also began cross plugging me which he had  never done before. 

I spoke to Paul later that week, explaining to him about how Don had come around to being a strong colleague and supporter. 

Paul was delighted.  “Ego sublimation,” he laughed,” works every  time.”  

“By the way,” he added, “Frank sends his thanks.” 

 The LP, “Songs for Swingin’ Lovers,” is aired even today by enlightened radio programmers. 

            Happy Hare on Internet Radio

I begin my new series of San Diego Union-Tribune internet radio shows this week Many cognoscente tell me that Internet Radio is the next big thing. Sure seems like it. Soon, internet radio will be wireless, open to all forms of media: car radios, regular radios, cell phones, ad infinitum I told the brass at the U-T that I only wanted to do one show a week and make it a good one. They gave me Wednesdays from 1p-3p, and encouraged me to add shows during the week as I get the snow patted down. I just want have fun, and this medium seems to be a great playground for a kid like me.. This is the first and only internet radio station in the country owned by a newspaper, now local, but world-wide bound           

Flash Do Wop Quiz

Who asked, “Why is everybody pickin’ on me?”

1.       Bad Leroy Brown

2.       Charlie Brown

3.        Buster Brown

 

Bobby Darin’s “Mack the Knife”: the one with the knife was named

1.      MacHeath 

2.      MacCloud 

3.      MacNamara

 

Name the song with “A wop bop a loo bop a-lop bam boom

1.      Good Golly Miss Molly     

2.      Be Bop a Lula

3.      Tutti Fruiti 

  Next week   Enough of this Talk, a new path in Talk Radio