Saturday, September 14, 2002
MUSIC? IT WENT THAT-A-WAY!
I have been an ear-witness to some vast changes in American “popular” music in the past quarter of a century or so.
The trends have been gradual ever since the mid-1930’s, I suppose and as I think back over the music we had on our racks during the Big Band Era, I realize it was rather restricted. We played. mostly stock
orchestrations of ballads of the day, and jazz favorites from decades past. Occasionally, specific bands would do versions of classical favorites, general songs and even a folk melody now and then. It became easy to distinguish
between music by The Dorsey Brothers, then Tommy and Jimmy apart, Goodman, Glen Gray and The Casa Loma Band, Bob Crosby, Woody Herman, Red Norvo, Glen Miller and other favorites and the “sweeter” type of music
featured by Guy Lombardo, Jan Garber, Sammy Kaye, and waltzes by Wayne King. All of these and many more had replaced former groups which I remember such as the Coon-Sanders Band, The Six Brown Brothers, The Paul
Whiteman Band, B. A. Rolfe and a score of Dixieland groups, out of both New Orleans and Chicago. There was also a significant flow of popular music in such groups as Cab Calloway, Jimmy Lunceford, Lucky Miliinder, Fats Waller, Earl
Hines, Louis Armstrong ... plus many others.
I realize I am treading on dangerous ground when I start listing favorites. There are sure to be some of you who feel I have purposely eliminated your favorites from those I’ve been rattling off from the top of my
increasingly bare skull. Frank Dailey, Kay Kyser, Ace Brigode, Ray Pearl, Oliver Naylor, Little Jack Little, Ray McKinley for instance. There was a zany school, as well as fabulous stage band with a hyphanated name which escapes me at
the moment; Spike Jones, Red Engle and others doing pariodies and take-offs.
I have run off at the cartridge here it seems, so I’ll have to outline what I had in mind to write about - how pop music has divided into a set of individual types of music.
We now have ethnic or folk music, country and C&W music, we have those elements which evolved into rock through the rock-’n-roll transitional doorway with numerous sub-groups such as acid and punk. We also
have divisions of music called gospel, contemporary religious, gospel, nostalgia material echoing the recent past and referred to as “classics”, plus a growing category of what could be called “personality” music. This occurs on so
many CD’s today and all the tunes on a specific side are “generated”, if not actually written, by the individual featured on the CD. They are usually done with a set theme in mind which is the title of the CD.
Each of these, and others have, I feel, become individual classifiications on their own - and rightfully so.
Perhaps we can a talk about other such changes again soon, if you like.
A.L.M. September 14, 2002 [c499wds]
Friday, September 13, 2002
GABRIEL JONES, FRONTIER LAWYER
One of the first lawyers to qualify to practice in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, the advancing edge of our nation as it worked relentlessly westward in the 1700’s, was a man named Gabriel Jones.
His parents came to Williamsburg, Virginia in 1724 from Wales. Gabriel was born in Williamsburg May 17, 1724. When he was three years old, his father died and his mother traveled with her son to England. Records
show that the boy was baptized in the parish of St. Giles-in-the Fields. He was admitted to Boarding School at the age of eight. He was received through a presentation made by a Mr. Thomas Sanford of the parish and his father’s
name is recorded in Christ’s Hospital records as having been “James Jones , Citizen and Weaver. Deceased.”
When and why Gabriel returned to the Royal Colony of Virginia remain s a mystery, and the next time his name appears in public records is at the first court held in Frederick County, Virginia in 1743. There, with five
others, he was qualified as an attorney. He was, at the time, nineteen years of age.
Both Frederick County and Augusta County, to its south, were authorized in 1738, but they each delayed organizational meetings. Augusta County, withdrawing from Orange County, across the Blue Ridge
Mountains to the east, did so December 9, 1745 when it became one of the largest administative areas in the nation. Five attorneys qualifed at that court meeting and Gabriel Jones was among them. He faced a busy career and
became widely known and respected.
Gabriel Jones never became a “Rebel”, nor was he ever an active “Tory”. He, like Thomas, Lord Fairfax and some other upright men of the time, felt they could not take up arms for either side. They did not do so
out of religious convicrions and did not condemn war. Lord Fairfax had been a valued civic leader. He was in his eighties at the time, and chose to simply retire to the seclusion of his estate at “Greenway Court.” He was a personal
friend of George Washington’s and word was out that the man Fairfax was not to be molested in any way. When word of Yorktown was brought to him, he is said to have turned his face to the wall and said “All is ended”. At his side
stood his lawyer, confidant and friend Gabriel Jones. Both Lord Fairfax and Gabriel Jones were called “recusants” - a word which has which , some regret to say, has gone out of use in our time.
I remember talking with Virginia Historian Dr. Howard McKnight Wilson many year ago, about Gabriel Jones’ career and he said Jones could not have found a better area in which to practice law. Early settlers here
in the Valley were, he said, were “the most litigious people in the world”. They stood ready, at all times, to sue each other on the slightest, real or imaginary, affront. As one of the huge county’s five lawyers, Jones was blessed, or
cursed, with a constant supply of cases.
An extant portrait of Gabriel Jones shows him wearing a kerchief over the right side of his face seemingly because he had lost an eye earlier in life. I have found no explanation concerning such an injury. He,
perhaps, could have been easily engaged in fighting or in an accident. Another handicapped participant in Valley drama, in religious affairs, was a gentleman known as “One-Eyed Richardson”. He was made so by an early bout
with smallpox.
Jones had a fine spread on the banks of the Shenandoah River just below Port Republic. This section became part of Rockingham County when it was formed in 1778 and Jones was soon named to be one of the
county’s two representatives at the Virginia Constitutional Convention. A man named David Robertson was designated by that convention to record what was said in “shorthand” - the first debates recorded in the new form. The
records kept at that time show James Madison spoke over fifty times, Patrick Henry, over forty times, but with longer speeches. Gabriel Jones said nothing, but voted with the majority for approval of the new State Constitution . The
Valley votes being critical to that documents acceptance.
Even today, driving down toward the river you see road signs which tell you that you are traveling on ”Lawyer’s Road”.
A.L.M. September 10, 2002 [c739wds]
Thursday, September 12, 2002
B .L. D.
Today might seem be a “Big Let Down” time for some people.
Much concern has been expressed in the past month or so concerning the distinct possibilities that we were going to “overdo” the observance of the first anniversary date of the September 11th suicide bombings
of the Trade Towers and of the Pentagon Building, in Northern Virginia. Plans sounded so grandiose and conclusive.
Now, more than half way through the 11th, I have been pleased with what I have heard.
Had I Iistened to radio or watched TV “full time”, I have a feeling I would be saying that it was too much of the same thing; endless emotion, which would have worn pretty thin had I over-used it. This happens a
great a deal in criticism , especially of television, I think. A person can watch too much TV, and many do exactly that. As a result they are sated by sameness and starved for sensationalism. If you sat down and read and re-read the
same story in a dozen newspapers all day you might get the feeling “they”, too, had “ovedone” it. I think the media, in general, maintained an acceptable level in what I have heard and seen thus far today. Most performed a
genuine public service in staying with the various cermonies for most of the day.
As the day progressed, I sensed, too, that the networks seemed to be grateful that nothing of any dire consequence had occurred in the wider scope of the news More than one of the participants apparently
woke up this morning wondering if some cataclysmic event would dominate the day, and, as the day worn on, they seemed to feel more and more relaxed and worry-free. Maybe this was an echo of my own, personal feelings. I’ll
never admit, of course, I that I might have been “ “worried”, in the least, but I was “concerned,” that something “wild” or “offbeat” may evolve from all the hate that has been engendered in recent months and so often focused
on the anniversary date as logical time for all of it to erupt.
Our enemies in this war against terrorism do not think in what we call “logical” terms. They remind me of a young kid who has learned to scribble numbers on the wall, the furniture, and any paper surface available,
but who does not, as yet, understand numbers can be processed in adding and multiplication applications of value. All of the things they do seem to be important, judging from the way Mom reacts when they do them!
No one can judge the mental state of the terrorist by usual standards. The manual on the “how to....” aspects of handling terrorists is still being written in blood, bound in flesh, and covered with human skin.
It will never be a “best seller”, when and if, it ever gets published, you can rest assured it will be one book we can judge by its cover.
More and more people looking at September 11, 2002 as a special mark after which we must set aside grief and sorrow and concentrate on doing something about the cause of such suffering.
A.L.M. September 11, 2002 (About 4 PM) [c-542wds]
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
ENVY COPY
From writing millions of words of advertising copy for radio and TV, I have learned that several emotions can be and are, exploited to make copy sell ideas, products and services. One such emotion to be
consciously played upon is that called “envy”.
The words you contrive to use will suggest to the mind of the hearer or viewer that he or she must have such-and-such a new product before others get theirs. The envy urge is very strong with many people and
easily tapped - especially with those who would deny they have any such feelings - and it is up to you as the copy writer to touch the critical nerve with teasing words and suggestions to encourage them to think about it. Men and
women seem to be equally eager to exceed others. Inject the right words through the voice tones of a skilled announcer, with either a leadership tone of domination or in a subtle, low-key, folksy exchange - almost confidential - with
his audience, and the combination will sell.
You set the tone with your words. Sometimes you might choose to be so plain as to “order” the hearer. “Be among the very first in your neighborhood to own a bright, new .....” Or, more subtle, “Your neighbors will
notice the bright, shiny new in your driveway...” Or, even less obvious: “Can’t you just imagine the sensation a new ______ in your drive way could cause! All the world is excited about the new---”
Yes, I find I often have a target type in mind when writing copy and you find you, too, will select certain people who can be aroused to prompt action by the simple voiced competent finding its way into their
presence. Many radio listeners have a built-in affinity for suggestions and that latent interest can be aroused with forceful, demanding word or two. No one likes to be last...a loser. Far better to the first - and a winner! Your words are
needed to convince that hearer to step forward and be counted among the winners.
Advertising with any aspect of modern living, changes with the times and it can be argued ,with good reason, that radio advertising is not the same powerful tool it was before TV came along. Radio was, at one
time, a forceful, demanding way to advertise and it worked some special miracles for a number of people, but it has changed radically. Commercial copy writers are virtually unknown in radio stations now. They
work largely with agency prepared copy, something older newspaper men used to call “boiler-plate copy” Or, they use copy supplied by the makers of the product as prepared by their agencies. Few stations now use the term “disc
jockey” any more, but when they came into existence they evolved into “personalities”. More and more they came to be sold as stars under titles such as the “Joe Pafoofnick Show!! with clank and clatter of mod music before, during
and after such an opening proclamation. These people sell largely through personality power and they make massive use of tapes done by others. Young people, in particular, respond, as do some older people who are filled with
nostalgic memories of their mis-spent teen age years. They miss the feelings of freedom and mobility they once knew. They are there, too, listening to Joe and many of them still wondering what they want to be when they grow up.
They all tend to buy whatever Joe Paffoofnick tells them to get. He is on their side and they yearn to get close to him. He touches the envy nerve button quite often in his loose, ad-lib manner and “right now”
urgency tone. I often get the feeling he needs to get to the bathroom just as soon as all this is over.
A whole host of current radio shows are labeled as “Talk Shows”.
There are some among them which might better be called “Rant Shows.”
Part of the talk or rant is of a commercial nature and it, once again , is based on personalities, showcased and on a support staff who are seldom mentioned as being essential and which includes writers handing the “star” funny or
sage-like things to “say”.
In most cases, not all, to be fair about it, but many, are what the British radio and TV people call them. To the BBC they are “News Readers” rather than “Commentators” “New Analysts” and other such laudatory
terms applied to the person you see or hear. He is reading “news” prepared some time earlier more often by others than his own hand and, sometimes with a carefully slanted purpose of which you may or may not become aware of
at all. Skilled have been the writers who put the words before him or her to be read in their particular, widely accepted style.
I have dealt briefly with just one way in which copy writers can, and do, touch you, personally. We will talk about others, sometime, if you like - such as “Beat”, “Chicken” and “Funny Bone” copy. Be mong the first to e-mail me
concerning your preference.
A.L.M. September 10, 2002 [c868wds]
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Tuesday, September 10, 2002
BANKING -101
It is essential to good living that we understand the fundamentals of banking. We need to learn to save a portion of our hard earned wages and to do so with every intention of letting the basic amount stay
secure and untouched. It is intended to help sustain you in your advanced years.
I once worked with a fine old gentleman, who was employed as a “Sanitation Engineer” in the large industrial plant in which we both worked. His title was so listed on the “Table of Organization” chart in the
General Manager’s office. Translated into everyday terms, it meant he was hired to be a Janitor.
And, he was good at it, too. In better days, Riley had been a carpenter, I knew. He developed some physical problems which denied him access to the tools and contortions of carpentry, but he had a native
sense of neatness and took excellent care of cleaning our writing and artwork department and the area adjoining, as well. We found he could be trusted to make us look good.
I don’t remember how it came up but we found Riley to also be amazingly well read and well-informed about many things. We soon realized that he was putting us more often than we realized . He spoke one day
of having, as a carpenter and stone mason, worked on the original construction of the small town bank in the bedroom-community in which I lived, and where I once had a checking account. He praised the original owners of the
bank and some people I had know for many years. He told how grateful he was to those men who had started the bank and , especially, to one man who, more or less, worked there all his life. Riley told what a fine building it was they
built. Natively quarried limestone and it had white columns on the tiled portico so the it looked more like a bank than just another fast food drive-in location.
As with so many buildings of that era, it was, even as we talked , sitting derilict and unoccupied. It had been mergered out of existence some years ago, acquired and expanded into a big banking blah with
various names and branches everywhere else. That saddened Old Riley quite a bit and I can remember him learning thoughtfully on his broom handle as he remembered the good old days. He told us how much he admired that
bank cashier who had been there so many years.
“Even as that bank building was being built,” he recounted “and the sturdy vault walls of concrete vault were being poured, Mr. D. stood there and convinced me, a young man at the time, to take life-long
saving seriously. No one had ever talked with me in such a way since my Daddy died.”
Riley paused a moment, but did not shed tears. A moment, and he continued .
“An’ do you know what that banker man did? He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out some loose change. He counted three pennies into my hand and three for himself.
“Those are yours, Riley!” he said firmly “Yours to keep And, I clutched my new copper coins, bright and shiny in my hand and followed his example as we both threw the copper coins into to the small river of
concrete flowing into the wooden frame forming a wall of the bank’s vault!”.
“Now, Riley - I want you to remember this moment!. Whatever happens to you in the future, you can always say you’ve got money in the Weyers Cave Bank!”
“It still there, too!” Riley insisted. ”I haven’t touched one cent of it!”
A.L.M. September 9, 2002 [c-624wds]
Monday, September 09, 2002
BEYOND KNOWING?
Do we ever really understand the hardships experienced by those who have gone before us in the building of our nation?
Or, have we become so content in the relative comforts of present-day living to even care about what has gone before?
It is good to become aware of the events of the past and they are now available to us in so many ways. If we depend on our memory alone or that of partisan participants in many such events, we are apt to get
a warped idea of how things really were in the past.
Some may have a nostalgic tendency and tend to avoid all the unseemly features of life’s anxieties in a given era. Others may dwell too extensively on those same realities and make the past seem to have been a
time of harsh awakenings, stress and confusion.
It m might be wise to read of the past in various ways. The social or economic accounts will tell one version, the historical articles will give emphasis to patriotism and heroic deeds, cookbooks will give detailed
accounts of food-minded writers. It is also important that we read fictional accounts of the past, because therein we have a pleasant combination of reality and fantasy...not that which people did , but rather how they tried to
accomplish. Some succeeded; others failed and there is often ahint therein of what there is remaining for you and I to do. It gives us a keen awareness of the way life seemed to be viewed in the minds of people a hint much like us in
the past.
If you get the chance, either read or re-read the novel “Johnny Tremaine,” by Esther Forbes. It tells the story of the Boston Tea Party, Concord and Lexington in the early days of the America Revolution. The
events are made to live through the personalities of people caught up in the complexities of their own, personal moment of doubt and fear and joyful anticipation. Young boys almost of military age for those days, wanting to be
soldiers. Young girls with romantic ideas, older men who are both good and evil. Old women who are bossy, vindictive, loving and at times down right mean . What does the challenge of holding on to those they fought and often
died for, mean to us today?
Mary Rodd Furbee, a relative newcomer among much-needed American historical writers, presents an unusual theme intended be read primarily by young people, both girls and boys. She has centered, thus far,
on stories of the women involved in the expanding American frontier. Get a copy of her “Outrageous Women of Colonial America.” It is all about a varied group of women who went against the social patterns of their day. Furbee
has written several other books for young people “ ,”Anne Bailey, Frontier Scout” and “Shawnee Captive, The Story of Mary Draper Ingles”.
Others have followed and, to my way of thinking, they are a re-birth of a genre of literature which is much needed with our younger readers especially. The Mary Rodd Furbee series are straight forward, simply told biographies about
women of frontier America who have helped to make our nation a more worthy place in which to live. They are books which are intended for young people, but older people will find they to be worthwhile reading, too.
Make a note of it: Read - Forbes’- “Johnny Tremaine” and Mary Rodd Furbee’s ”Outrageous Women of Colonial America”. Strengthen your faith in America.
A.L.M. Sept. 8, 2002 [c-593wds]
Sunday, September 08, 2002
MOUNTAIN INCLINE
When, perchance, I fall on evil times and find I cannot do certain things as well as I ought to be able to do, I start looking back to possible mistakes in my upbringing. I try to determine when and where my parents
could have caused such a deficiency in my makeup.
In that way was I try to prove something which, as they say “warped me for the rest of my life.” It must happen that way. The textbooks say it can and does. Or, could. We are asked to assume,of course, that
those textbooks were written by unwrapped “experts”.
It has helped me decide several things during my lifetime.
There used to be a genuine, turn-of-the-century style mountain incline on Mill Mountain , in what is now a well-populated part of Roanoke, Virginia... way back when the Roanoke motto was “The Magic City”.
I never got to ride it! That’ s where I think my loving parents possibly went awry. Had they taken me on a ride up the side of Mill Mountain on that clickity-clackity rail-grabber I may, for instance, have grown up
without my phobia about riding roller coasters and other such demonic contrivances which now infest our theme parks.
Just think, if I , as a small child, have been bundled up and stashed away on one of those long seats and been magically wafted into the clouds to the top of Mill Mountain, in Roanoke, Virginia what a tremendous
difference such a childhood adventure might have made in my psyche!
Perhaps several such trips would have been needed to imbue within me a acceptance of being strapped into a movable mechanism and whirled upward, outward ,over and under - who knows in what
directions. I was taken on the Ferris Wheel as a youngster; the Merry- Go-Round and even on those little canvas-seated contraptions which whirled us around a center pole or pylon at carnivals.
As I remember it, there was a two-storied entrance arch at the lower end of the incline and I vaguely recall seeing it on a picture post card, with a horse and buggy waiting at the entrance, which gives you an
idea of how up-to-date I am on the one-time attraction.
There is one factor which leaves my parents off the hook, however, and that was the fact that I never remember seeing the Mill Mountain Incline in actual operation . It may well have been that when my
memories started taking over it became a sort of wish thing. I wished I could have ridden it - even just once.
It was years before I gave the idea up and as a teen ager I remember writing a song s about it: “Mill Mountain Incline, Where You and I Made Love”. It’s still around somewhere in my music files, but when I visit
Roanoke today there is not the slighest sign of the old place. For many years there was an obvious, up-the-side of the mountian, treeless incision which was apparent for many years which marked the location of the incline. Mother
Nature has erased such a scar memory of it. Maybe someone else remembers it, too.
On second or third thought, I doubt, seriously if I was in any way bent or frustrated by failing to ride the thing. Today the mountain itself appears to have been little more than a steep hill than a mountain.
A.L.M. September 6, 2002 [c-577wds]
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