Marvelous Musical Michael Feinstein

Young Michael Feinstein is the greatest thing that has happened to the songs of "The Great American Songbook," the songs America loved before the mid 50s when the rock culture and its music came along and forever changed the world.  He's a passionate preservationist, dedicating his  considerable talent to keeping those songs alive.  If you don't know about him, look him up.  Gives me goosebumps and smiles.

Ruby, Roma, the Bible and the Irish in me

Hold everything. The muse is speaking Gaelic, which I don't understand.  I will get this done when I get a translation.  Stay tuned.

 Alright, here we go.  My muse showed up again.  Red hair, green dress, speaking English with an Irish Lilt that rendered me senseless. She says her name is Eileen.  As in "Eileen O'Grady," a song recorded by Ruby Murray and a few hundred other happy Hibernians. So who was Ruby Murray, you ask? She was a wildly popular singer in the United Kingdom. She holds the record for the most number one hits on the charts at the same time. A big seller here in the colonies was "Softly Softly." If you never heard of her I will ask my personal Leprechaun to pummel you into submission.
My favorite Ruby song is "It's the Irish in Me."  If you can listen to that one without scurrying to the nearest genealogy site in search of some long forgotten bit of Irish in you, you're a far better person than I.

Should you visit London, you might hear Ruby's name used in a most puzzling manner.  "Ruby Murray" is Cockney slang for curry in  the popular Indian Food Restaurants.

And there's Roma Downey.  Remember her?  Sweet Irish Angel that we were all touched by a few years ago. Senior Angel Della Reese managed to  keep  novice  angel Monica out of trouble  Remind me to do a post about Della.  Before she became a TV angel and a real life positive thinking preacher she was a singer and she was hot!  I mean HOT!  But I digress again.  I googled   Roma a few months ago to see what she is up to and now she shows up as the Virgin Mary on the History Channel's spectacular series, "The Bible."  Roma and her third husband are doing all kinds of nice religious things and God told her to put the Bible on TV.  I think Jesus gets born tonight, so I will find out if Roma is able to drop her Irish speech. I think it would be kind of nice if Jesus had an Irish Mother.  She could sing "Too ra loo ra loo ral" to Him. But I guess Bible scholars who are sticklers for correctness will be asking if you can speak Aramaic with an Irish Brogue.
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Oh Canada! Morningside to Nightfall and the Happy Gang too.

Another Paul's Preview.  Coming soon, all about Old Time Radio from the land of the Canucks. Can I say that without offending somebody unless I'm talking about a hockey team? We do not need a war with Canada.

Popeye Quits Spinach??!!

Gifted artist, 14 Year old grandson Alex knows more about Disney and Warner Brothers cartoons than anybody.   It was a great day for old Grandpappy when I stumped the kid with a question about Popeye giving up spinach.

Alex doesn't read my Burping Canary Feathers. He uses all his energy impressing the girls at his middle school with his awesomeness, which he does appear to have more than his share of.

There's a strong hint up there at the top of this page where it says what the blog is mostly about.  You got it, it's radio. The kid radio shows back in the dark ages when I was young were often about favorite cartoon characters.  Popeye went on radio in 1935.  To make it, you had to have a sponsor to pay the bills.  The spinach people didn't come forward so a cereal company, makers of Wheatena, picked it up.  When the old sailor needed to save the day, there was always another character around to stir up a quick bowl  of Wheatena. Worked just as well as spinach. If you think cartoons couldn't work on radio, you're just too young.

Now you know the rest of the story 

  

ANOTHER SPLENDID TITLE?

"Jack's Max."  How's that for a title well calculated to tease fans of past pop culture?  Should be a snap to guess for died-the-wool fans of old stuff.  Let us hope I get around to posting it.

Happy Old Friend station

Oh boy, I found "The Happy Station." Long time ago I listened on shortwave  when it was on Radio Netherlands.  They quit it and it's now sort of reincarnated on a station in Taipei, of all places. Seems like I discover some old radio friend on the internet almost daily. One of very few reasons why I'd like to make it too a ripe old one hundred is so I would have time to listen to all the stuff that's available.

Auntie Beeb, Commercials, PBS

Canary Feathers fans (both of them) who wait with bated spinach breath for my promised popping off about Popeye and his break from his favorite muscle food must wait.  I need to deal with another thing of no possible interest to persons in their right minds.  But isn't that what blogs are for? We revel in goofy personal ramblings of no consequence.

The thing is, I have a headache from trying to figure out the British system of making you buy a license to use radio or TV.  It appears that it costs the equivalent of around 235 bucks a year.  It looks like you must have a license to use the grand old non-commercial BBC or its commercial, advertiser supported competition.  You need a license to view and hear commercials?  Say it isn't so.

It is my hope that blog brother Harry of Broadcastellan fame living in Wales,  (I should call him blog son because I am old enough to be his pappy)  will comment on all this and let us know how much of PBS  is available in the U. K.  He spent 15 years in New York and says his greatest memory of our so-called Public Broadcasting System is those interminable fund raisers. 

 Did Brits get their knickers in a knot, fearing that if Mitt Romney became president he would do away with Big Bird? I, for one, will rise up with great indignation if Kermit the Frog can no longer sing "Lydya the Tatooed Lady" and get decked by Miss Piggy.   Might I even let the moths out of my wallet and send a few bucks to keep PBS on the air?  Let's not go that far.  On the other hand,  I might do something rash  if I can no longer watch Red Green, Canada's hilarious king of duct tape or get my Saturday Night Lawrence Welk fix.

So what's up with our much cussed and discussed radio and TV  with the "Public" label hung on it?  I am so old that I remember when it came upon the scene as an an alternative to commercial  broadcasting that lives or dies on ratings and advertiser revenue. I guess they named it Public because it was government subsidized, actually paid for by us the public from  our taxes. The whole idea was under fire right from the get-go. Many of the stations that became part of PBS were educational outlets operated by colleges and universities.  Did PBS really feed the need of the general public, whatever that means?  Or was it elitist, something for highbrows to talk about at cocktail parties. "I get all my news from PBS and I love the opera and those wonderful educational programs, all without those awful commercials." The conservative side of the political aisle said  the feds  should not have to pay for it with our taxes. Let those who want it support it. That  becomes ever closer to reality as government funding gets cut more and more.  So here we are with hours and hours of fund raisers and corporate underwriter credits that come real close to full blown commercials. So what's the answer.  Whither the struggling and threatened PBS?  Will big  bird lose his feathers? Will Kermit and Miss Piggy ride off into the sunset as in some old tired cowboy movie?  Damned if I know.  Maybe the Brits have some ideas for us here in the colonies who wish to meet with the elite to eat.  But it won't be at Duffy's Tavern.  Can you imagine Duffy's TV tuned to PBS?