Pop Culture – Page 4 – Alan E. Hunter

Original publish date January 30, 2025.

https://weeklyview.net/2025/01/30/peewee-the-piccolo-born-in-indianapolis/

Okay all you Irvington audiophiles, quick, name the first song ever released on a 45 record. If you said it was the “Texarkana Baby” by Eddy Arnold, pat yourself on the back for remembering that lost gem. But you’re wrong. The first commercial 45rpm was “PeeWee the Piccolo” by Russ Case and his Orchestra on RCA Victor records (#47-0146 and b-side #47-0147) released on Feb. 1st, 1949. And it was born right here on the eastside of Indianapolis. Ironically Russ Case (1912-1964), a trumpet player and bandleader, led a few jazz and light music orchestras, including Eddy Arnold’s.

**RCA Magazine ad for their new 45 record player.**

RCA introduced the 45 rpm single to the world on December 7th, 1948 (seven years to the day after the Pearl Harbor attack), at the Sherman Avenue plant in Indianapolis. The confusion among the public comes from the fact that RCA released several commercial 45 singles on March 31st, 1949, including Arnold’s “Texarkana Baby.” The irony is that while “Pee Wee the Piccolo” is largely forgotten, “Texarkana Baby” topped Billboard’s country chart for three weeks, reaching #18 on the Best Selling Popular Retail Records chart. And it was the b-side of the single for Arnold’s standard hit “Bouquet of Roses.”

Pee Wee The Piccolo record.

“Pee-Wee The Piccolo” is a children’s record narrated by Academy Award winner Paul Wing (1892-1957). Wing was captured by the Japanese in the Philippines in 1942, survived the Bataan Death March, and was held prisoner in the World War II prisoner of war camp portrayed in the 2005 film The Great Raid. “Pee-Wee The Piccolo” was written by Paul Tripp and George Kleinsinger, who also created Tubby The Tuba. RCA color-coded their singles, pressing children’s 45-rpm records on yellow vinyl, popular music on black vinyl, country on green vinyl, classical on red vinyl, instrumental music on blue vinyl, and R&B and gospel on orange vinyl, international music was light blue, and musicals midnight blue. Eventually, they would all be pressed in black.

The 45′s tie-in to World War II is not without purpose. The 45 rpm single can trace its earliest origins to that conflict. Like many fields, World War II put a major dent in the music industry. Most homefront record and phonograph makers retooled their factories for the manufacture of products for the war effort. A wartime blockade stopped the import of shellac, the material from which .78 records were made. With that supply cut off, manufacturers scrambled for a new material to make records. The industry had been experimenting with synthetic PVC (polyvinyl chloride) since the 1930s, but it was more expensive to produce than shellac. CBS (Columbia Broadcasting System) engineers realized that PVC’s material properties meant that a vinyl record could be made thinner and stronger than a shellac record and that the grooves could be cut thinner, allowing more music to fit on each side. More music meant more money, outweighing the cost of the more expensive material. So the 33 rpm format was born.

Around September of ’48, William Paley at CBS offered RCA’s David Sarnoff the rights to the 33 technology at no cost. Paley thought that sharing his secret with his chief competitor would help boost the 33 format record sales for both companies. Sarnoff adroitly thanked Paley and told him he would think about it. Paley hadn’t realized that RCA had already perfected it’s secret 45 project. Paley was shocked and CBS miffed when RCA rolled out the 45 a few months later. The 45 rpm record became RCA’s answer to Columbia’s 33 1/3 rpm long-playing disc. The two systems directly competed with each other to replace 78 rpm records, bewildering consumers, and causing a drop in record sales. In media the period from ’49 to ’51 was referred to as “the war of the speeds” years.

A myth persists that the single’s designation of “45″ came from subtracting Columbia’s new 33 rpm format speed from the old 78: equaling 45. According to “Vinyl: A History of the Analogue Record” by Richard Osborne, “the speed was based upon calculations made by the best balance between playing time and signal-to-noise ratio given by a groove density of 3 minutes per radial inch, and also that the innermost groove of a disc should be half the diameter of the outermost groove. Given the 6 7/8 diameter of the record it was found that 45 rpm provided the desired playing time within the designated bandwidth.” No wonder the 78 minus 33 urban legend remains so persistent — it’s easier to remember.

**The sprawling campus of RCA at Michigan & Sherman.**

Engineers from both companies had been working on a replacement for the 78 since before the war, experimenting with speeds ranging from 30 to 50 RPM. They were balancing the playing time (5 minutes – the same as a 12″ 78) with disk diameter, to get the most compact format that would have a surface velocity and lack of “pinch effect” so that the sound would not degrade as the stylus reached the inner diameter. In fact, for all but the outer inch or so, the 45 has a higher surface velocity than a 12″ LP. Both Edison and Victor had tried to introduce long-playing records in the 1920s and failed. In 1949 Capitol and Decca started issuing the new LP format, and RCA relented and issued its first LP in January 1950. While the LP could comfortably hold a large selection of music on each side, the 45, with its large central hole, worked better on automatic changers (like jukeboxes).

However the 45 rpm was gaining in popularity, and Columbia issued its first 45s in February 1951. Soon, other record companies saw the mass consumer appeal the new format allowed. By 1954 more than 200 million 45s had been sold. According to the New York Times, the peak year for the seven-inch single was 1974, when 250 million were sold. In the end, the war of the speeds ended without a decisive winner. By the early Eighties, the 45 began dying a slow, humiliating death. The number of jukeboxes in the country declined, stadium rock fans increasingly gravitated toward albums, and the cassette format (and even the wasteful “cassette single” and “mini-CD” format) began overtaking vinyl 45s.

Like most people my age, I fell in love with 45s in the early 1970s. Mostly because they fit into my limited allowance budget as a kid. That was, until about 1975 when the companies all raised the price of a 45 from $0.99 to $1.49! Then I had to be choosy. In most cases, the best song from an album would make it onto the 45 and, if I was lucky, there could be a b-side that was an unexpected bonus, sometimes a song not even on the album. Bingo, bonus track! Many of those 45s were made right here in Indianapolis. What’s more, back in the late 1960s/early 1970s it seemed like everyone in my family worked at that RCA plant on Sherman Ave. I remember that Mom and Dad got to pick out 2 or 3 free records every quarter, so I had a leg up on the competition (my sisters).

**The R.C.A. manufacturing plant located at 3324 East Michigan Street.** Courtesy Indiana State Library Photograph Collections.

Built in the 1920s, the RCA plant on the near eastside was a massive site that, during its heyday in the 1950s, employed over 8,000 people. RCA featured over 20 buildings on its 50-acre site, and aside from making records, the plant produced electronics like televisions, stereos, and radios. A gradual decline in business began in the 1970s, eventually leading to RCA being sold to GE in 1986. The Sherman Ave. plant operated for a few more years before closing in 1995. A heavy machinery and storage company operated in a small portion of the plant and a recycling nonprofit operated in the main building along Michigan St. for years before leaving in 2012. The RCA Sherman Plant was ultimately demolished in late January/early February 2017.

**Elvis Presley on stage at Market Square Arena 8.30pm June 26, 1977.**

Elvis Presley and Dolly Parton were two of the bigger names that toured the plant, although many bands and artists made the trip to the RCA plant to see how their records were made. One of the more famous records made there was Elvis Presley’s “Moody Blue” record, a special presentation copy of which was given to Elvis during his final concert at Market Square Arena on June 26, 1977. As it happens, the stage where Elvis stood when he received that gold record now rests inside the Irving Theatre.

Dad, who was trained as a draftsman in the service, worked in the relatively new computer processing area at the Sherman Ave. facility. He would take a sweater or zipper-pull fleece with him every day regardless of the season because back then the computers ran pretty hot and the room was kept so cold. They let employees smoke back in those days in the computer room and Dad smoked a pipe. I remember he worked with IBM cards back then. Those punchcards sorted all the info for the RCA record club members, which numbered in the hundreds of thousands.

**Nipper “His Master’s Voice”in wrecked interior of the abandoned RCA factory**.

My father lived for many years across the street from the plant on Sherman Avenue. He relished the idea of walking to and from work and eating lunches at home. The plant was an awesome sight to see when it was still standing. After it was vacated in the early 2000s, it became the largest abandoned place in Indy (besides the coke plant). There were some reminders of its former life throughout the building (the RCA dog could still be found in the main building) and leftover remnants from the other companies that operated there.

During those derelict years, I may (or may not) have surreptitiously ventured into the empty building. It was pretty sketch back then and you were likely to run into other people, mostly vagrants, scrappers, and other neighborhood kids. The attics had catwalks from which one could access various rooms/areas throughout the building via small doors. I remember one door in the back of the men’s room. There were muddy raccoon footprints all over the bathroom tile floors: proof that the critters would come in at night to drink out of the toilets. Some rooms were lined with meshed steel Faraday cages. The level beneath the main offices had large mounds of dirt reportedly earmarked for a BMX track that never materialized. When Thomson Consumer Electronics moved north to their new sparkling aqua green and blue paneled building at I-465 and Meridian, RCA left a ton of office furniture and obsolete audio-visual equipment behind in the building.

My dad worked in that building for over three decades. He died in 1997 just months away from retirement. My grandparents and my mother worked there in the 1960s. And it was in that lobby where I saw my stepmother Bonnie for the last time in 1997 before she left for Tennessee never to return. Back then RCA had a notary public in residence just inside the door. Tens of thousands of Hoosiers worked at that plant during its 75-year lifespan. Now, the vacant space is just a large patch of overgrown weeds and wild grass. My dad’s house sits empty, the doors and windows boarded up. Life goes on, the world still turns, and soon anyone with memories of working in that plant will fade away as well. Like phone booths, inspection stations, long-distance operators, and most of the products made in that building, RCA is just a distant memory now.

Music, Pop Culture, Television

Parky’s Place.

January 25, 2025February 7, 2025 Alan E. Hunter- Irvington

Original publish date August 31, 2023. https://weeklyview.net/2023/08/31/parkys-place/

**Parky’s Place Harry Einstein (1904-1958)**

Recently I wrote an article about a couple of photos of Dick the Bruiser I found along the route of the World’s Longest Yardsale that stretches from Alabama to Michigan. I have an affinity for old photos (and old paper in general) and always linger a little bit longer when I see them for sale on a dealer’s table. This particular spot was inside a tent near the Alvin C. York General Store and Visitor’s Center in Pall Mall, Tennessee. I bought several old promo photos of Country Music Stars (termed “Hillbilly Music” back in the day) from the 1940-50s Era. Hank Williams, Sr., Roy Acuff, Red Foley, and a few more. Also among them was an old promo still dated 1947 from the Mutual Broadcasting System for a radio show called “Meet Me At Parky’s” that aired on Sunday nights from 9:00 to 9:30. Since I can remember trivial minutia better than I can family birthdays, I knew the backstory and bought the photo.

**CBS Radio comic personality Harry Einstein portrays his character Parkyakarkus on The Al Jolson Show. Image dated February 1, 1938. Hollywood, CA. (Photo by CBS via Getty Images)**

I seriously doubt anyone reading this column was around in 1947 to listen to this radio show, so, I’ll share what I know about it. The photo pictures comedian Harry Einstein posed leaning atop a kitchen counter with a cigar in his hand, a wink in his eye, and a chef’s hat with the name “Parky’s” on the front. Einstein, better known by the stage names Nick Parkyakarkus or Harry Parke, was an American comedian, writer, and character actor whose specialty was Greek dialect comedy. A natural humorist, Einstein came to comedy quite by accident. Born on May 6, 1904, in Boston, Mass., to a Jewish mother from Russia and a Jewish pawnbroker father from Austria, Einstein first worked as a newspaper reporter but eventually moved into advertising for Boston’s Hearst Newspapers.

On nights and weekends, Harry enjoyed performing comedy routines for friends at parties, in nightclubs, taverns, and Bar / Bat Mitzvahs. In 1924, he became a fan favorite on radio as “The Bad Boy from a Good Home”, doing comedy skits on Boston station WEEI (AM). He also worked in advertising for the Taylor Furniture Company, where he managed their radio department. He branched out in the advertising business and was soon doing the same for another larger Boston furniture store named Summerfield’s. Boston bandleader Joe Rines, a close friend at the station, tried to convince Harry to become a full-time comedian, but Harry was making a good living as advertising manager for three Boston Furniture stores. Einstein relented and began appearing on Rines’ radio program in his spare time. It was here that Harry created the Pigeon-English-speaking pseudo-Greek character of Nick Parkyakarkus for a skit on Rines’ radio show. At the time, no one blinked an eye at the “political correctness” of ethnic humor, and Harry always brought down the house.

Listeners loved the Parkyakarkus character and it didn’t take long for the national networks to take notice. Einstein got his big break nationally when he was hired as a performer on Eddie Cantor’s radio show in 1934. That led to a part-time gig on the Al Jolson show. Cantor and Jolson were big Hollywood names and soon Tinseltown came calling. In 1936 he appeared alongside Cantor in Strike Me Pink (co-starring Ethel Merman and William Frawley aka Fred Mertz from “I Love Lucy”), the next year he appeared in The Life of the Party and New Faces of 1937 (alongside Milton Berle). While filming the latter, he met his second wife, actress Thelma Leeds. From 1936 to 1945, Harry appeared as his Parkyakarkas character in eleven films. Einstein’s character name became so inextricably linked to him that, in the 1930s, Harry attempted to change his name legally to Parkyakarkus; the judge denied the request (although his star at 1708 Vine Street on the Hollywood Walk of Fame bears his character’s name instead of his own.)

**Einstein as Parky between Sheldon Leonard and Betty Rhodes in 1948.**

In June of 1945, Einstein began a radio show of his own called Meet Me at Parky’s, The show featured Einstein as Greek restaurant owner Nick Parkyakarkus. A typical show opened with a couple of short sketches, a short comic monologue by Parkyakarkus (sure to have the live audience rolling in the aisles), followed by the show’s singer (Betty Jane Rhodes) showing up to help Parkyakarkus with that week’s problem. Einstein wrote the scripts himself and the show co-starred Sheldon Leonard, fresh off his role as Nick the Bartender in It’s a Wonderful Life the year before. In the 1960s, Leonard would trade his actor’s chair for a producer’s megaphone creating shows like The Andy Griffith Show, Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C., The Dick Van Dyke Show, and I Spy. Parky’s Place ran for two seasons on NBC before moving to the Mutual Broadcasting System in 1947 for its third and final season, ending in November of 1948. After the show ended, Einstein became a highly sought-after guest and emcee on the Borscht Belt (or Yiddish Alps as some comics called it) in New York’s Catskill Mountains and the Friars’ Club of New York City.

On Sunday, November 23, 1958, almost exactly a decade after his radio show ended, Einstein was a featured performer on the dais as the Friars Club inducted two new members: Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, the ultra-famous wife-and-husband team that created I Love Lucy. These events were traditional “Roasts” where comics, performers, friends, and fellow club members would tease and cajole the honorees, sometimes mercilessly. 1200 people packed the International Ballroom at the Beverly Hilton Hotel for the $200-a-plate testimonial dinner to Television’s original power couple. Art Linkletter was the emcee and alongside Einstein on the dais were Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., George Burns, Danny Thomas, George Murphy, and Milton Berle. Harry was the second to last speaker, and everyone agreed that his toast was the funniest of the night. Harry butchered the couple’s names, calling them Danny Arnaz and Lucille Bowles, while poking fun at Desi’s immigration status and the Friars’ Club’s “strict” rules of eligibility which included “many prominent businessmen, several fine judges, and quite a few defendants.” His routine lasted 10 minutes and, according to Milton Berle, “closed with a standing ovation.”

Einstein took his seat next to Milton Berle as Emcee Linkletter wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and exclaimed, “Every time he finishes, I ask myself, why isn’t he on the air in a prime time?” To which, Harry turned to Berle and said, “Yeah, how come?” According to Linkletter, those were Harry’s last words before he slumped over, put his head on Milton Berle’s lap, and shut his eyes. Everyone thought it was part of the routine. Berle shouted “Is there a doctor in the house?” but the crowd thought it was a humorous ad-lib; part of the show. Harry’s wife, Thelma, who was seated to the left of comic Ed Wynn, knew immediately what was wrong and rushed to the stage. She fumbled in her husband’s pocket for a bottle of nitroglycerin pills, designed to increase the blood flow through his coronary arteries. But Harry’s teeth were clenched tight and she could not get the pill into his mouth. Ed Wynn, whose distinctive high-pitched giggly voice created Walt Disney’s mad-hatter, created an unintentionally humorous aside by repeatedly calling out, “Is there a doctor in the house?” as Einstein lay helpless on the floor of the platform. Luckily, the event had been a charity benefit for local hospitals and several physicians were in attendance.

Berle and George Burns assisted others by carrying Einstein backstage, where five physicians worked to revive him. Amazingly, one of the physicians pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket, sterilized it quickly, then sliced open Einstein’s chest and within seconds was holding Harry’s heart in his hands, massaging it in an attempt to get it beating again. One report states that another doctor yanked an electrical cord from a nearby lamp and placed the live ends against the exposed heart as an improvised defibrillator. The combined effort of five doctors working tirelessly, literally taking turns massaging the heart, brought Einstein back to life, but only temporarily. It was later determined that Harry Einstein had literally died on stage. EMTs arrived and worked backstage to save Einstein’s life.

**Lucille Ball & Desi Arnaz at Einstein’s Funeral.**

On the other side of the curtain, the show was going on. Well, sort of anyway. George Burns sang a song from his Vaudeville days and assured the guests that “Parky will be alright.” But somehow, everyone on the dais knew better. Berle called to crooner Tony Martin, imploring him to sing a song. Martin began to sing the song There’s No Tomorrow. Obviously, that didn’t help. Desi and Lucy were to be the evening’s closing speakers. When Desi took the podium, his face was ashen and his countenance grim. Lucille Ball then came to the microphone and managed only, “I can say nothing,” through tears. Desi spoke into the microphone in almost a whisper, “This is one of the moments that Lucy and I have waited a lifetime for, but it’s meaningless. They say the show must go on. But why must it? Let’s close the show now by praying for this wonderful man backstage who made the world laugh.” Arnaz took the award from Linkletter and shoved it into his pocket. Sammy Davis, Jr. was supposed to sing a closing song, but he was so emotional that he could not do it.

**Harry Einstein’s Grave Home of Peace mausoleum L.A.**

Despite two hours of continuous resuscitation attempts, Harry Einstein was pronounced dead at 1:20 a.m. on November 24. He was 54 years old. Einstein’s funeral service was attended by 300 mourners. George Jessel delivered the eulogy. Einstein is buried not far from the Three Stooges Moe & Curly Howard, Louis B. Mayer, & the Warner Brothers in the Home of Peace mausoleum, the first and oldest Jewish cemetery in Los Angeles.

Harry Einstein was the father of four sons: Albert, Bob, Charles, and Clifford Einstein. That’s comedians Albert Brooks and Bob Einstein. Albert is best known as an Academy Award-nominated actor (Broadcast News-1987) but also for Taxi Driver (1976), Private Benjamin (1980), and Unfaithfully Yours (1984). He has written and directed several comedy films; Modern Romance (1981), Lost in America (1985), and Defending Your Life (1991). His voice acting credits include Marlin in Finding Nemo (2003) and Finding Dory (2016), Tiberius in The Secret Life of Pets (2016), and several one-time characters in The Simpsons.

Bob Einstein is best remembered for the character he created known as Super Dave Osborne, a satirical stuntman character who repeatedly survived deadly stunts. But he was also known for his roles as Marty Funkhouser in Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Larry Middleman on Arrested Development. Einstein got his start as a writer for several television variety shows, including The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour for which he won two Emmy Awards (he was nominated four other times). He also won a CableACE Award for acting as Super Dave, along with five other nominations.

Albert Brooks, who was 11 years old when Einstein died, has addressed his father’s death briefly in his movie, Defending Your Life. In the film, Brooks’s recently deceased character, Daniel Miller, finds himself in an afterlife nightclub, watching a terrible comedian. “How’d you die?” the comic asks him; Albert replies, “Onstage, like you.” When Meryl Streep’s character invites Albert to leave with her. “I can’t,” he says, gesturing toward the stage. “That’s my father.” Bob (Super Dave) Osborne, really never got over his dad’s death. In an episode of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, Einstein, who was 16 years old when his father died, tells host Jerry Seinfeld that his father’s death turned him off from performing for many years. Specifically, he was highly offended by the fact that both Milton Berle and George Jessel performed their comedy routines as eulogies at Harry Einstein’s funeral, feeling it was insensitive, and this made him uncomfortable with comedy. Now you know the story behind that Highway 127 photograph. It just goes to show you, sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words.

Indianapolis, Music, Pop Culture

“Louie Louie”

January 21, 2025February 7, 2025 Alan E. Hunter- Irvington

This column first appeared in August 2013. https://weeklyview.net/2024/08/01/louie-louie-2/

**“Louie, Louie” by the Kingsman 1963.**

Fifty years ago this week, a song was released by an obscure Portland, Oregon, garage band that would change the face of rock ‘n’ roll history forever and ultimately resonate through the halls of the Indiana Statehouse. “Louie Louie” was written by Richard Berry in 1955 and was originally performed in the style of a Jamaican reggae ballad. The original version tells the first-person story of a Jamaican sailor returning to the island to see his lady love. Berry released his version in April 1957 with his band, the Pharaohs, and scored a regional hit on the West Coast, particularly in San Francisco. When the group toured the Pacific Northwest, local garage bands picked up the song, increasing its popularity.

**Richard Berry’s Original 1957 release on Jasmine Records.**

On August 8th, 1963, a relatively unknown band called The Kingsmen released their version and it swept across the airwaves from the West Coast like a musical tsunami. The band recorded the song for $50 at Northwestern, Inc., Motion Pictures and Recording studio in Portland. The band split the cost of the session. The session was produced by Ken Chase, a local radio personality on radio station KISN 91-AM. He also owned a teen nightclub that hosted the Kingsmen as his house band. The Kingsmen’s studio version was recorded in one take. They also recorded a “B” side song called “Haunted Castle.”

**Berry’s version of the song on Flip Records.**

The Kingsmen turned Berry’s syrupy sweet ballad into a raucous romp, backed by a twangy guitar, party chatter, and mostly unintelligible lyrics by lead singer Jack Ely. The song hit the top ten of the Billboard Hot 100 chart in December and would remain there for 16 weeks. “Louie Louie” reached number one on both the Cashbox pop and R&B charts. The version quickly became a standard at teen parties in the U.S. during the 1960s, even reappearing on the charts in 1966.

**Louie Louie & Haunted Castle 45 Record.**

However, it was the urban legend about the indecipherable lyrics that gave the song lasting fame — or infamy, depending on your point of view. Rumors claimed that the band intentionally slurred the lyrics to hide the profanity contained therein, in particular, graphic sex between a sailor and his lady. Soon, crumpled pieces of paper containing “the real lyrics” to “Louie Louie” circulated among giggling, red-faced teens. In time, the adults got involved in the form of unamused parents and distraught teachers who demanded action against this supposed pornography sweeping the airwaves. Keep in mind, singles by The Singing Nun and Bobby Vinton monopolized the top slot on the charts during the song’s run.

Eventually, the song was banned on many radio stations across the United States, including Indiana, where it was personally prohibited by Governor Matthew Welsh himself. Yes Indiana, our state officially banned the song “Louie, Louie” on Tuesday, January 21, 1964. The unprecedented involvement between state government and a rock ‘n’ roll song began when Governor Welsh of Indiana received a complaint from a Frankfort teenager, claiming that the lyrics to the song were obscene. The teenager included a handwritten copy of the obscene lyrics as evidence.

Allegedly, Governor Welsh’s executive secretary Jack New went to a nearby music store to buy a copy of the record. Then, in what must’ve been a Monty Pythonesque moment, New and the Governor listened to it inside his Statehouse office. New told the Indianapolis Star “We slowed it down and we thought we could hear the words.” Billboard reported that the Governor said his ears “tingled.” The Governor’s press secretary, James McManus, said that the words were “indistinct, but plain if you listen carefully.”

**WISH-Radio’s Reid “Chuckles” Chapman.**

Governor Welsh snapped off a letter to Fort Wayne radio and TV personality and President of the Indiana Broadcasters Association Reid Chapman urging that the lyrics to the song be “examined.” Welsh said in 1991, “My position with respect to the whole matter was never that the record should be banned. At no time did I ever pressure anybody to take the song off the air. I suggested to him [Chapman] that it might be simpler all around if it wasn’t played.” The Governor had written to Chapman because he “was a friend of mine. I knew him; we weren’t close.”

In response to the Governor’s letter, Chapman sent telegrams to Hoosier radio stations asking them to stop playing the record. The Kingsmen, who were ready to embark on a Midwestern concert tour (including an appearance at the Indiana State Fair), objected to any attempt to take their song off the air. These “hidden lyric” denials by the Kingsmen did little to stop the controversy but did much to boost sales of the record among curious teens and investigative adults.

In a January 24, 1964, editorial page article titled “Young Singers Dismiss As Hooey Obscenity Charge in ‘Louie Louie.’”, a reporter for the Indianapolis Star interviewed Lynn Easton, leader of the band, who “somewhat angrily” denied that the band sang obscene lyrics. “We took the words from the original version by Richard Berry and recorded them faithfully. There was no clowning around,” Easton said. To the Star’s credit, the conclusion of the editorial was against government censorship in any form. Lead singer Jack Ely explained the garbled lyrics were a result of the studio’s 19-foot ceiling which had a microphone suspended from it.

Despite the band’s protestations, LeRoy New, Chief Marion County deputy prosecutor, assigned two investigators to look into the obscenity charges. After listening to the record at three speeds, the investigators found nothing obscene, though they admitted the words were garbled. New said, “The record is an abomination of out-of-tune guitars, an overbearing jungle rhythm and clanging cymbals.” But New stopped short of saying the lyrics were obscene, and the obscenity laws of the day “just didn’t reckon with dirty sounds.”

Although Governor Welsh’s “woofing” about the record was not the cause, soon after the Indiana banning, it fell off the charts. Ironically, by the time the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie” had achieved national popularity, the band had split up. In February 1964, an outraged parent wrote to U.S. Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy, alleging the song lyrics were obscene. Subsequently, J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI began a 31-month investigation into the matter that concluded the song was “unintelligible at any speed,” and they were “unable to interpret any of the wording in the record.” But by then, “Louie, Louie” was a footnote in rock history.

Maybe it was the controversy about the obscene (or not obscene) lyrics that killed the song — who knows? But two weeks after the swan song, on Sunday, February 9, The Beatles appeared for the first time on the Ed Sullivan Show. The British Invasion had begun and the American garage band sound soon faded from the scene.

The song would not re-emerge until it was featured in the 1978 film Animal House. According to Kenny Vance, the musical director of the movie, a pre-Saturday Night Live John Belushi sang in a garage band that used to perform this song at frat parties. Belushi sang his version of the dirty lyrics in the studio while recording his vocals for the movie. Sadly, the tape of Belushi‘s version was lost in 2012 when Hurricane Sandy wiped out Kenny’s home in Queens.

As for this reporter, I admired Governor Matt Welsh. He was one of my first interviews back in the early 1980s. But make no mistake about it, regardless of his posturing after the fact, Matt Welsh had the record banned. When I asked the Governor about the song, although polite, he expressed his frustration that “Louie Louie” is all he’s remembered for by “today’s” generation. Welsh did not mention the matter in his personal memoir but did say, “I thought the whole thing was a tempest in a teapot, and not worth any extended pursuit. I have no interest in it either way.”

Everyone knows the chorus: “Louie, Louie, oh no. Me gotta go. Aye-yi-yi, I said. Louie Louie, oh baby. Me gotta go.” But once and for all, here are the lyrics: “Fine little girl waits for me. Catch a ship across the sea. Sail that ship about, all alone. Never know if I make it home. Three nights and days, I sail the sea. Think of girl, constantly. Oh that ship, I dream she’s there. I smell the rose in her hair. See Jamaica, the moon above. It won’t be long, me see my love. Take her in my arms again. Tell her I’ll never leave again.” The supposed “lewd” version can be easily found on the Web, but I’ll leave that to your own devices.

Music, Pop Culture

Fleetwood Mac: 50 years ago today.

January 19, 2025February 7, 2025 Alan E. Hunter- Irvington

Original publish date January 16, 2025.

(This was supposed to be published in the Jan. 3 issue. My editor apologizes for the delay.) https://weeklyview.net/2025/01/16/fleetwood-mac-50-years-ago-today/

**Fritz Band, L-R Brian Kane, Bob Aguirre, Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, and Javier Pacheco.**

On January 1, 1975, Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks joined Fleetwood Mac and changed music history forever. The duo produced an album, Buckingham and Nicks in September 1973, which was a commercial failure noteworthy only for the album cover that features a nude image of Stevie and Lindsey. The album has yet to be commercially remastered or re-released digitally. It was Lindsey who first joined Fleetwood Mac, replacing guitarist Bob Welch, the only guitar player in the band. Lindsey quickly convinced the band to recruit his musical partner (and girlfriend) Stevie Nicks, who played guitar and piano. Oh, and she sang a little too.

Mick Fleetwood extended the invitation to Buckingham on New Year’s Eve 1974. On New Year’s Day, Fleetwood, Christine, and John McVie met Buckingham at the El Carmen Mexican restaurant located at 8138 W 3rd St. in Los Angeles. Opened in 1929, El Carmen still stands. It has a colorful history and counted among its regulars D.W. Griffith, Cecil B. DeMille, Boris Karloff, Ricardo Montalban, Nat King Cole, Loretta Young, Diego Rivera, Busby Berkeley, Mario Lanza, Vincent Price, Gary Cooper & John Wayne. During that formative meeting, Buckingham was joined by Stevie Nicks, who arrived still wearing her flapper costume after her waitress shift ended at Clementine’s restaurant in nearby Beverly Hills.

Evocative as that last sentence appears, the pre-Fleetwood Mac story of Stevie and Lindsey is equally dreamful. Lindsey Adams Buckingham was born on October 3, 1949, in Palo Alto, California where he attended Menlo-Atherton High School. Lindsey and his two older brothers, Jeffrey and Gregory, were encouraged to swim competitively by their parents from an early age. Though Lindsey dropped out to pursue music, his brother Gregory would win a silver medal at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, setting two world records along the way. Buckingham learned to play guitar on a toy Mickey Mouse guitar, strumming along to his brother Jeff’s extensive collection of 45s. Recognizing his talent, Lindsey’s parents bought him a $35 Harmony guitar for Christmas. Produced between 1945 and 1975, the Harmony guitar was nicknamed the “People’s Guitar”. Many musicians began their careers playing Harmony guitars: Elvis Presley, Keith Richards, Jimmy Page, Howlin’ Wolf, Big Joe Williams, Ritchie Valens, and the Kinks’ Dave Davies among them.

Lindsey never took guitar lessons, does not read music, and famously plays with no pick. Instead, he plays fingerstyle almost exclusively strumming with his middle and ring fingers. After joining Fleetwood Mac, Buckingham stepped up his game and began using a Gibson Les Paul Custom. From 1966 to 1971, Buckingham performed as a bassist and vocalist with a psychedelic folk rock band originally named the Fritz Rabyne Memorial Band. In 1967 as the band’s lineup changed, they shortened their name to Fritz.

Stephanie Lynn Nicks was born in Phoenix, Arizona on May 26, 1948. As a toddler, she could only pronounce her name as “tee-dee”, which led to the nickname “Stevie”. Always a musical child, by the age of four, Stevie was strumming a toy guitar and singing duets with her grandfather. Her father’s frequent relocation as a vice president of Greyhound had the family living in Phoenix, Albuquerque, El Paso, Salt Lake City, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. On her 16th birthday, her parents bought her a Goya guitar, a favorite of folksingers best remembered as the guitar played by folksinger Melanie and by movie star Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

While attending Arcadia High School in Arcadia, CA., she joined her first band, the Changing Times, a folk rock band whose most famous song was “The Pied Piper”, released in 1965, which focused on vocal harmonies. Stevie met Lindsey during her senior year at Menlo-Atherton High School in Atherton, California. Stevie saw Buckingham playing “California Dreamin'” at the Young Life club and joined him in harmony. As it happened at the time, Lindsey’s rock band Fritz was breaking apart as two band members were leaving for college. In mid-1967, Lindsey asked Stevie to replace the band’s lead singer. Fritz started to take off after Stevie joined, opening for major acts like Santana, Moody Blues, Chicago Transit Authority, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Ike & Tina Turner, War, Chuck Berry, Poco, Leon Russell, Dr. Hook, and others from 1968 until 1970. Nicks and Buckingham attended San José State University but both dropped out to pursue music. After Fritz disbanded for good in 1972, the duo continued to write songs and record demo tapes at night in Daly City, CA.

After the lukewarm release of their album Buckingham and Nicks, with no money coming in, Stevie began working multiple jobs. She waited tables and cleaned houses to make ends meet. Recruited by keyboard player Warren Zevon, Buckingham joined the Everly Brothers for their 1972 tour. Lindsey played bass for the band alongside legendary guitarist Waddy Wachtel, who continues to play with Stevie Nicks to this day. While Lindsey toured, Stevie remained behind writing songs including “Rhiannon” and “Landslide” as her relationship with Buckingham slowly deteriorated. On December 31, 1974, Mick Fleetwood called on Buckingham, changing Fleetwood Mac from a British band (whom Beatle John Lennon once cited as an influence) into an Anglo-American one.

**Fritz Rabyne Memorial Band-Stevie on the ladder and Lindsey gazing up at her.**

But what about those years with the Fritz Rabyne Memorial Band (aka Fritz)? The official audiophile community identifies Fritz as a diverse high school rock band formed in San Jose in the fall of 1966. The band performed early rock and roll covers mixed with sixties Bay area psychedelic instrumentals. The band’s name was derived from a fellow high school student at the time, and like Lynyrd Skynyrd, was created as an inside joke. The band was born when Bob Aguirre, drummer of The Castiles (Bruce Springsteen’s early band) invited keyboard player Javier Pacheco to perform at a high school talent show alongside Cal Roper (bass), Lindsey Buckingham (guitar), and Jody Moreing (vocals & guitar). Pacheco wrote the majority of the band’s songs. By 1968, Cal left the group to go off to college and Jody joined another band. Fritz’s tight, three-part harmonies quickly gained a loyal Bay-area following. When vocalist Jody Moreing left the band in 1968, Stevie Nicks was invited to join the band. She quickly developed a mesmeric stage persona. By the summer of 1968, the band was comprised of Brian Kane (lead guitar, vocals), Aguirre (drums), Pacheco (keyboards, vocals), Stevie Nicks (percussion, vocals), and Lindsey Buckingham (bass, vocals).

**Fritz Rabyne Memorial Band-Stevie at center with Lindsey seated at her right.**

Like many sixties Bay-area bands, records are sketchy. Most of the gigs were performed in and around Santa Clara County. The band played a few Stanford frat parties (where Lindsey’s brother Greg attended) and dances at Westmont High School from 1966 to 1968 and Mango Jr High in Sunnyvale in 1970. Fritz performed regularly at Ricardo’s Pizza, a popular teen hangout in a traditionally Italian neighborhood known as “Goosetown” in San Jose. It was a working-class neighborhood where many shopkeepers lived upstairs inside of or near their businesses. Ricardo’s Pizza, located at 218 Willow St., featured red-and-white checkerboard tablecloths, wooden chairs, and Italian accents. Extra seating existed upstairs above the kitchen, and a small stage occupied one of the walls. Ricardo’s featured a banjo player for the weeknight crowd and spotlighted up-and-coming bands on the weekends. In 1970-71, the Doobie Brothers were the house band at Ricardo’s, gigging there on a regular basis. Innovative Jazz trumpet player Chet Baker and The Tubes were also regulars. Fritz appeared on a number of occasions at the Santa Clara Fair Grounds, opening for Steve Miller and Deep Purple and appearing with Iron Butterfly at the Expo-69 Teenage Fair. Fritz was the headliner for the Youngbloods, Country Weather, and Stained Glass, also at the fairgrounds.

**Fritz Rabyne Memorial Band- Lindsey & Stevie Center stage.**

The band initially practiced at Lindsey’s house in Atherton, but after 1968, the band rehearsed in the banquet room at the Italian Gardens Restaurant in San Jose. For approximately three and a half years, Fritz was one of the major local acts on the San Francisco Bay music scene. The band’s songs spoke to the human condition: “Yellow” (about the media), “Product of the Times” (conformity), “Empty Shell” (the ego), “Bold Narcissis” (more ego), “Sharpy” (about slick-talking agents), “The Power” (about finding God), “Eulogy” (about rebirth), “Existentialist” (about intellectual self-gratification), and “Crying Time” (about the death of innocence). Edgy content notwithstanding, today Fritz’s songs are mostly forgotten novelties consigned to the darkest corners of the internet.

However, Fritz was Stevie’s first rock band and the first pairing of what would become Rock and Roll’s most tempestuous couple. Fritz served as a sort of music school for Stevie, laying the foundations for her era-defining pop career. After Fritz’s disbandment, Stevie and Lindsey became prominent members of Fleetwood Mac during its most commercially successful period, highlighted by the multi-platinum studio album Rumours (1977), which sold over 40 million copies worldwide. The rest, as they say, is history. And it all started fifty years ago this week.

Disney, Music, Pop Culture, The Beatles

The Beatles Hit the Brakes at Walt Disney World.

January 10, 2025February 7, 2025 Alan E. Hunter- Irvington

Original Publish Date: December 19, 2024. https://weeklyview.net/2024/12/19/the-beatles-hit-the-brakes-at-walt-disney-world/

Quick, who broke up The Beatles? Which one of the Fab Four was the first to quit the group? And who was the last Beatle standing? Throw away all you thought you knew about the breakup of The Beatles and settle in for a Beatles Christmas story like you have never heard before. This Beatles breakup story involves John Lennon’s famous “Lost Weekend”, the Sopranos, Al Capone, and Mickey Mouse.

On August 20, 1969, The Beatles met for the last time at Abbey Road Studios to record what was to be the last song on their last studio album: The End. The song, which features the only song Ringo performed a drum solo on, was initially intended to be the final track on Abbey Road, but it ended up being followed by “Her Majesty” a brief tongue-in-cheek music hall song. “Her Majesty” appears 14 seconds after the The End, but was not listed on the original sleeve. Paul McCartney is the only musician to appear on the track. Some observers consider it the first example of a hidden track. The song credited to the “Lennon-McCartney” songwriting partnership brought forth a rare compliment from Lennon when he credited Paul with the line, ‘And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.’ The ever-increasing acerbic Lennon offered a back-handed compliment to his songwriting partner by saying, “it is a very cosmic, philosophical line. Which again proves that if he wants to, he can think.” Thus, The End stands as the last known new recording involving all four of the Beatles during the band’s existence. And before you say it, the album Let It Be, was recorded in January 1970 ON TOP of Abbey Road Studios, NOT inside of it.

The final gathering of all four Beatles came two days later at a photo session held at John Lennon’s Tittenhurst estate. On September 20th, Lennon privately informed his bandmates at a meeting at Apple, without George Harrison present, that he was leaving the Beatles. However, it was unclear to the other members whether John just wanted a break or if his departure was permanent. Legend has it that John Lennon walked out of that 1969 meeting at Apple headquarters screaming “I want a divorce” and four years later, he would get his wish at the “Happiest Place On Earth”. Meantime, on April 10, 1970, McCartney settled the issue in a press release declaring, “I’m quitting The Beatles.” It would take another four years for the breakup to be formalized.

**The Plaza Hotel in Manhattan, New York City.**

After three years of court battles and ever-increasing acrimony amongst the Fab Four, the final dissolution of The Beatles was set to happen. The meeting was scheduled for December 19, 1974. Ironically it to happened at New York’s Plaza Hotel, the first place The Beatles stayed in America a decade before. As it happened, George Harrison was at Madison Square for two nights on his Dark Horse tour and Paul and Linda McCartney flew in for the signing. Ringo had already signed the documents in England. So, as George, and Paul sat around a large table ready to dissolve the partnership alongside Apple lawyers and business managers, Ringo listened in on the telephone to confirm that he was alive. Everyone present was wondering where John was. Keep in mind, Lennon lived within walking distance of the Plaza Hotel. George Harrison’s lawyer telephoned Lennon for an explanation. May Pang answered and from the background, John’s voice bellowed out, “The stars aren’t right,” to the lawyer’s query. When John’s response came across the speakerphone, everyone present was furious. John explained that he was going to follow his astrological signs and he wasn’t coming to the meeting.

Instead, John decided that he wanted to give his 11-year-old son Julian a special Christmas holiday by taking him someplace warm. Mobster Mo Levy offered to have John, May, and Julian stay at his Palm Beach Florida condominium, not far from the former mansion of gangster Al Capone. So, Levy grabbed his son Adam and together with the wayward Beatle brood, they all flew down to Levy’s West Palm Beach estate to spend Christmas in the sunny shores of Florida. Wait, you say, where was Yoko? Well, John Lennon was in the midst of his self-described Long Weekend “sowing his oats” with May Pang, Yoko Ono’s assistant and the couple’s production coordinator. In mid-1973, while Lennon was busy working on his classic Mind Games album John and Yoko were having marital problems. Ono suggested to Pang that she become Lennon’s companion, and with Yoko’s permission, John and May began a relationship that lasted more than 18 months.

**Morris Levy in his office at Roulette Records.**

And that private jet-owning mobster, who was that guy? His name was Morris Levy, a music executive from Harlem with alleged mob ties to Vincent Gigante, boss of the Genovese crime family. “Moishe” or “Mo” as friends and associates called him, was known to sign up-and-coming artists to lop-sided contracts that often left the artists owing him money for touring expenses and studio time. Mo Levy would often sign his name to contracts as a song’s co-writer without the artist’s consent. Robbie Robertson of The Band was reportedly one of his victims and a witness to Mo’s henchmen holding a fellow performer by his ankles out the window of Levy’s Park Avenue apartment to get his point across. Levy, who died in 1990, was the inspiration for the HBO television series The Sopranos (1999–2007) character Hesh Rabkin, Tony Soprano’s friend who made a fortune defrauding performers, underpaying royalties, and pressing unauthorized records. Tommy James, Frankie Lymon, and Tito Puente were among his most prominent victims.

Once in South Florida, they spent their time walking on the beach, lounging by the pool and amusing themselves by throwing firecrackers at palm trees. The pinnacle of the trip came when the Lennon trio spent a day at Disney World. There one of the most famous men in the world went mostly unrecognized. At that time Disney’s Magic Kingdom was only one park on the property. They stayed at the Polynesian Hotel. To get from the Polynesian (both then and today) to the Magic Kingdom, the easiest way to travel is by Monorail. The train stops inside the hotel so guests do not have to venture outside the building. Making the Polynesian the obvious choice for John and his crew to stay.

**Disney monorail operator / castmember Hal East with John Lennon.**

Years later, Disney monorail operator (castmember Hal East) confirmed that John, May Pang, and Julian made a few trips to the Magic Kingdom via the Monorail and were allowed to ride up front apart from the crowd. It was during these trips where John and Julian experienced the rare treat of driving the Monorail. In her book May shared an interesting memory from one of the rides: “I overheard a father tell his son [on the Monorsail] he had heard a Beatle was visiting. “Which Beatle?” The father said, “George Harrison.” I burst out laughing. John asked why. We then all started laughing so hard that the Dad turned around. It then registered which Beatle was at the park that day – and why we were laughing. “It’s O.K.,” John jokingly said, “we all look alike.” On December 29, 1974, one of Apple Corp’s lawyers hand-delivered the official documents to the House of the Mouse in Florida and John Lennon became the last of the four to sign off on the contract.

**Disney’s Beatles inspired Vultures: Buzzie, Flaps, Ziggy, and Dizzy.**

Ironically, the Beatles and Disney never really had much of a working relationship, but Disney did reference The Beatles in at least one of its productions: the vultures in The Jungle Book are based on the Fab Four. Disney also made plans to remake 1968’s Yellow Submarine, but the project never broke the surface. In 2020, Disney bought distribution rights for the docuseries The Beatles: Get Back from Peter Jackson and that three-part series is still streaming on Disney.

**Samoa longhouse Building at Disney World’s Polynesian Resort.**

While Disney won’t confirm the exact room where it happened, dedicated Beatles / Disney fans have pinpointed the location: Room 1601 in the Samoa longhouse Building at the Polynesian Resort at Walt Disney World, Orlando. Room 1601 looks out at the Seven Seas Lagoon and it was this scene at which John gazed as he paused briefly before officially dissolving his performing relationship with the Beatles. Room 1601 is a ground-floor corner room in the Samoa longhouse that looks out on the Seven Seas Lagoon with the Cinderella Castle visible in the distance.

**May Pang’s Photo of Lennon’s dissolution signing.**

Here, with the Magic Kingdom as his backdrop, John Lennon picked up his pen and officially finished off the Beatles, once and for all. Years later May Pang remembered that John told her to “Take out your camera…He looked wistfully out the window. I could almost see him replaying the entire Beatles experience in his mind. He finally picked up his pen and, in the unlikely backdrop of the Polynesian Village Hotel at Disney World, ended the greatest rock ‘n’ roll band in history by simply scrawling ‘John Lennon’ at the bottom of the page.”

**Interior of Room 1601 as it looked in 1974.**

In Pang’s book “Instamatic Karma: Photographs of John Lennon” (St. Martins Press 2008), there are several photos of Lennon at Disney World wearing a stylish newsboy cap and Micky Mouse ringer t-shirt posed anonymously in the park among the crowd, alongside Monorail driver Hal East, in front of Cinderella Castle and outside room 1601 at the Polynesian. Most importantly, Pang snapped a photo of Lennon’s signature on the dissolution papers. A literal snapshot of music history, Disney style. And today, if you’re lucky, you can stay in Room 1601 where the Beatles long and winding road came to an end. And then, go ride the Monorail.

Category: Pop Culture

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