OFF THE TRUCK 003
LegendarySurfer
of the American West. He shared his earliest freeform roots with me,
recently, over a rhubarb on the tailgate...
<img src="http://www.yodaslair.com/dumboozle/wlac/images/
wlaclogo3.jpg">
The station that molded this southern boy was WLAC, Nashville,
Tennessee. It was on a 10.99 ( high priced spead) tucked in my pillow
at night. It was like 60 gillion waats of balls out am radio that
played all black all the time. Howling Wolf, Muddy Waters, Otis and
hundreds you never heard of. Turned out it was owned by Randy
somebody, out of Galatin, Tenn., who also had a store front music
store. He recorded most of his unknowns there and slipped them in
with 45s by Chuck B. and Wilson P...
"That's right ladies & gentlesmen for just $8.99, plus postage -- no
cod's, cash or money orders only -- just ask for the "Siilky Sheets"
package. Do it today and we'll throw in two surprise choices. Blues,
Gospel. etc, all from Randy's Record Shop, Gallatin, Tenn., owners of
WLAC or vice versa. Their sponsors were "100 baby Cockeral Chicks, 90
per cent guaranteed to arrive alive for just $12.99, with instructions
on how to start your own Chicken Farm and be rich, rich, rich....."
Royal Crown Pomade Jelly... no batchelor's glove box was complete
without a bottle. "Don't be sorry by running out JUST when you need
it." This had to be the precursor of Viagra, except all this did was
grease 'em up, baby!
But here was the real Bomb... all these magnificent, deep-throated
jocks WERE ALL WHITE. The only white sounding voice on the air was the
knock-down excellent newsman, who was, I'm sure you've guessed by
now... black.
Not a big deal now, you say? Try it in 1961 in the deep south, bible
belt, and it was a real adventure for those guys, I bet. Listening to
them ply their craft, drunk, loaded, however, taught me how to ignore
fear 15 years later, when broadcasting on tip of a restaurant, in a
booth with nothing-proofed glass. I answered the phone to hear some
redneck tell me if I played one more "nigger loving song", he'd blow
my brains out with the high powered rifle he had locked on me from one
of the 4 or five surrounding warehouses. The differences between fear
and a learned wisdom, was that I called the station, telling someone
to take over, I was coming home. The guy I told to cover for me, I
learned later, was the local head of the KKK. But that was just one
thing...
I'm not sure how this started, but I hope it makes some sense. If you
can find a copy of "Good Old Boys" by Don Williams, listen to it. The
writer was reading my mail between '61 and '68 when I moved west....
( A great WLAC website is: http://www.yodaslair.com/dumboozle/wlac/wlacdex.html
)