It’s true! “. . . He’s a mean motah scootah and a bad go-gettah . . .” In usually four small black-and-white panels six days a week and about eight to ten big panels in two rows, stacked, on Sunday, in color, between B.C. and The Born Loser. Ha! Despite our changing and recently changed voices, five of us guys uninhibitedly deadpanned our way through this for a spring concert/talent show in the church basement when we were in school. What I wouldn’t give for a mere iPhone video of that performance. What a blast. We were a sensation, of course. After all, listen to the material we had to work with. Top drawer stuff. Drove the women crazy, too. Okay – drove the schoolgirls crazy. Which seemed extremely important then, when our hormones were raging, rampaging, and rioting 24 hours a day year in and year out. Seemed to irritate all of the nuns except one, Sister Kathleen, who was in charge and seemed frightened instead of annoyed, but the three parish priests on hand enjoyed the show so the nuns, still wrapped head to toe in those days about as completely as Saudi women, could only look unhappy and not stop us or say anything. Since my hundredth birthday a few years ago, I remember, usually pleasantly, an increasing number of events like this that I hadn’t thought of in decades. Granted, I may not remember what I had for supper last night, but if the game when Coach Kowbel moved me permanently from center field to first base occurs to me, I can recite chapter and verse to you about that night that summer between seventh and eighth grades right down to the conversation about cooties I had with Vicky Rango, with whom I shared a Dairy Queen cone after the game and with whom I was in love for a day or two (for about the forty-eighth time, with another 48 times yet to come). “Alley Oop, Oop. Oop. Oop Oop.” I don’t think I’ve thought of this song and that performance since the last time I saw my best friend and the drummer in our very cool, very hip talent-show quintet, more than 30 years ago. Since I woke up this morning, though, I can hardly think of anything else and have found myself smiling gently all day. Not least at the memory of Vicky Rango. Learn more. The comic strip: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alley_Oop The song: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alley_Oop_(song)
Posted on: Fri, 16 Jan 2015 20:14:12 +0000
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