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"I’m Tired of Hearing About It"
The time has come for us to rise
up and proclaim, “I’m tired of
hearing about it!.” Think about.
how many of your friends and
associates are experiencing a
sensory overload, no longer able
to resolve what used to be
simple matters of right or
wrong, but who are now mired
into a feeling of frustration
and anger at the current state
of affairs. If you have to ask
“Which affairs?” this is not for
you. I give you a pass. George Orwell’s prediction has come to fruition. Words, as we were raised to understand them. have lost meaning, but I may have a counter to the pervasive ugliness and hatred. Some years ago when I was on the air, doing a morning radio show in Cleveland with Specs Howard we came up with a lapel button designed to ward off bores.. It was a lapel button reading “I’m Tired of Heating About it.” The idea was that if you were at party and someone cornered you, and began to bend your ear with mindless blather about the world economy, or rock and roll vs. big band and ballads, or long vs. short hair, or whatever, you could reach up to your “Tired” button which you had kept concealed behind your lapel, turn it toward the bore, smiling sincerely and flash it, saving you from a direct verbal confrontation “I’m Tired of Hearing About It” worked.. Those were simpler times maybe., but after much thought before telling you this, yes, I am sure it would work, even in today’s. Machiavellian world. This week, I received two political hate messages in my E-mail. One was authored by extreme right winger Ken Blackwell, who wrote a vicious piece claiming that Barack Obama is the Antichrist. I will not belabor his tortured rationale, except to say that I pointed my mighty mouse on the Reply Button, clicked it, and wrote, “I’m tired of hearing About it.” Under the Equal Time provision, here’s what someone wrote about McCain: It was a mailing claiming that John McCain’s torture was exaggerated, that the Vietnamese, knowing he was an admiral’s son, took it easy on him.” I replied, “I’m Tired of hearing about it,” Those people feed on anger. There is nothing more final than the simple declaration of being” tired of hearing” about something. and to shut the hell up. Tiredness of hearing about it is something they can’t abide. This concept is my humble gift to you programmers who want to wade in on the war against mind control. For years. The United Negro College Fund has mangled grammar in their campaign proclaiming, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Actually, a mind can be a terrible waste if one is only a linear thinker. Balancing both sides of the cerebral cortex can dramatically enhance your life. Hang with me. During my short stint at the Union Tribune’s Internet radio station SignOnRadio.com, I committed a major blunder, thoughtlessly booking two totally incongruent acts back to back in the same show. The first hour featured a rollicking company of Irish performers starring Ireland’s version of Henny Youngman. Noel V. Ginnity. Mary McAleese the president of Ireland, has acclaimed him Ireland’s funniest man. Ginnity was accompanied by Paul Hennessy one of the Three Irish Tenors who performed internationally as Ireland’s answer to Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carrera. Hennessey possesses a sweet Irish tenor voice that could potentially crescendo to fill a concert hall if he so chose. Two guest musicians were: internationally acclaimed: All Ireland champion accordionist, Albie Grace and renowned Irish guitarist, Eddie Costello.. It was a throwback to the old days of radio when a group would enter the studio and perform with spirited wit and compelling musicianship. The Irish performers had a backlog of songs and humor that could have gone on for hours. Great! My next hour was to feature Betty Johnson, an enchanting performer from the 50’s who had recorded a number of top 20 songs including “The Little Blue Man.” She had been a member of Jack Paar’s ensemble of lightning fast wits on his legendary 50’s TV Talk show, and had performed at all of the major rooms sod nightclubs including the Sands, where she followed Sinatra. Without meeting her, your first impression might be that she was now an old lady with raspy speaking voice whose singing now was reduced to a wobbly vibrato. To the contrary. I had spoken to her a week prior in her St Croix Virgin Islands home and she came off like a thirty year old with a steel trap mind and a strong bell-like singing voice . But, the problem was how to bridge from one hour to another from a rollicking Irish troupe to a 50’s pop legend. without a jarring effect:. No excuses. I had booked them, Now what to do?. Linear thinking had screwed me up. Now, for a little lateral thinking As it was, I would finish the hour long Irish performance, pause for a three minute top of the hour break and, go into the Betty. Johnson sequence. But, it had to be seamless. Any suggestions? Here is what I did.. I found myself hying back to the golden days of radio when a show would be introduced with a spirited opening. Theme, played by the Irish cast.. When she came on in the second hour, Betty was alerted to sing an Irish song accompanied by the boys- “bies.” That’s right They would open her show on the other side of the hour. When the clock hit straight up 2:03, I announced in 40’s style stentorian network announcer style. “It’s the Betty Johnson Show!” On that cue, the Irish guys hit the theme, “Happy Days are Here Again” up and under for me to announce,.” Welcome to the Betty Johnson Show starring Betty Johnson with the orchestra under the direction of Betty Johnson, Produced written and directed by Betty Johnson. And now here she is, the lovely star of our show, Betty Johnson.” Betty played her part well. Appearing to be flummoxed by the unexpected crossover from the prior hour, she “oh myed and oh deared! ” until I settled her down and introduced her to the Irish cast, then, Surprise! She actually knew their names and had seen them perform in Ireland. Radio magic was being made.... As planned,. I told Betty on the air that she had to earn her keep by singing an Irish song for us. She appeared flustered but had actually been prepped to sing “Too Rah Loo Rah Loo Ral.; which she broke into without accompaniment. As planned, half way into the verse, Albie Grace and Eddie Costello began softly supporting her with their instruments.. Betty crooned, “Over in Killarney, many years ago, Me Mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty, in her good old Irish way. And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day. The boys let her finish the opening, then spontaneously began to sing softly along with her.,” Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry! Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, That's an Irish lullaby.” I have never heard it sung more reverently. Without thinking, I had achieved , not a crossover, but a reverse crossover. A radio first. Linear thinking would had have me billboarding the Betty Johnson hour at 55, of the first hour, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. It’s still the trite time worn Billboard. Lateral thinking had me asking the Irish cast to stay over and open the second hour with Betty, blending the two together , then gradually phasing out the Irish performers. with the rest of the hour devoted to Betty, who is an all-time great recanteuse and esteemed singer. Ed Sullivan, Sinatra, Paar She had personal stories about all of them. A giggling spirit, eager to come out and play. dwells in the right hemisphere of the cerebral cortex. It can be best playmate you ever knew. But enough of this high flown dissertation Here is an every day example of balanced brain thinking. My wife Carol and I were strolling on Shelter Island Drive in San Diego She was walking Rumer, a small wire haired terrier belonging to friends. Suddenly, the calm was broken by the squeal of brakes. We looked up to see a truck roaring to a stop and a large black Pit Bull vaulting out of the window. We first thought the dog had fallen out of the truck, then saw that it was headed straight for us. It hit me He was after the little dog. Carol had a millisecond to react. There were two options. Linear thinking: Throw the dog to the onrushing Pit Bill and run like hell. Lateral thinking: Jerk the dog’s leash, abruptly propelling him into her arms and clutching him tightly. A Tai Chi Master, it never occurred to her to sacrifice the dog.. By the time the menacing Pit Bull arrived, Carol had turned completely away from him as if ignoring the peril. This flummoxed the dog who then began clumsily trying to get around her, to munch the little dog. There ensued a Death Dance between Carol and the Pit Bull. She, owning the tighter circle, was able always to spin away from the Pit bully, by now disoriented. I helplessly stood by, fearing that if I attacked the Pit Bull I would break the trance Carol had cast on him. She serenely murmured to me to stay away, that she was okay. Hard to do. My vow to give an arm and leg for her almost came to fruition.. Finally the owner of the Pit Bull arrived and sharply ordered his killer dog to stand down. I marvel that when the crisis was over and the pit bull was led away, she calmly let Rumer down and resumed our stroll. Carol uses both sides of her brain, but this was ridiculous. I don’t approve of political jokes. I’ve seen too many get elected…..Scott St. James. Speaking of Lateral Thinking: A mouse trap placed on top of your alarm clock will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button, Sam Hale… Legendary Chicago Board of Trade wizard.. |
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e-mail Hare
hare@happyhareonline.com
Hare's Biography |
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