Kookshow, Chapter 11: Music

 

c. 2025 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(7-25)

 

 

Discussing movies and television programs with Kookshow Baby was definitely something that I expected. Through the magic of Cult Radio A-Go-Go streams, I had gained much insight into the world of filmmaking and script writing. But after the first round of our discussion had reached a natural conclusion, she changed direction by posing a query about my tastes in popular music.

 

“Okay Rawd, I saw on yer social media pages that ya collect old records. What kind of stuff tickles yer fancy? What d’ya really like?”

 

Her question was one that could not be answered in narrow terms.

 

“I umm... grew up in a family of songbirds, to be quite honest. There were amateur performers on both sides. My father played various instruments, and had a diverse library of vinyl platters, from genres of Folk, Blues, Country & Western, Gospel, Classical, Jazz, even early Rock & Roll. I listened to all of that as a child...”

 

She brightened at my open-minded perspective.

 

“Yeah, I mostly like the old-timey, hillbilly tunes, or stars of the Grand Ole opry, ya know? It’s part of how I grew up. My momma was a big fan of Hank Williams Sr., Porter Wagoner, George Jones, Loretta and Dolly and Tammy Wynette. All them down-home pickers and singers!”

 

I smiled broadly in response.

 

“The modern evolution of Country Music leaves me cold. It is barely rural, and definitely not very creative. There are a few artists I like out of the mainstream though, Redneck G. Reece and Junior Brown. My second wife was a fan of that poppy stuff, as are my neighbors back in Ohio. I take the stance that a blue-collar ethos built the artistic timeline. Subjects of hard work, drinking, divorce, and going to jail still resonate. That’s what I want to hear when I drop the needle on a record that supposedly comes from earthy, backwoods people!”

 

Kookshow grinned and giggled at this strong, cultural opinion.

 

“Y’all are a purist, it sounds like. I can go with that way of thinkin’! So, what about the other kinds of music? Tiffany said yer a friend and a fan of Davie Allan, the biker movie guitarist?”

 

I nodded proudly.

 

“That’s right. We connected accidentally, when I ordered CDs by mail from his website. I included a brief thought about what his soundtrack LPs had meant to me as a teenager, and he responded with a personal letter! I was shocked of course. It never occurred to me that he would be processing orders, himself. Later, I wrote liner notes for one of his releases, Fuzz for the Holidays, Volume 2. He has sent me all sorts of releases and promotional items, over the years. Posters, T-shirts, and other tchotchkes...”

 

My southern host was impressed. She stroked her pigtails while thinking.

 

“Gawdamm, Rawd! That sounds like one hell of a collection. Y’all should go over to the main house, Terry and Tiffany have a boatload of artifacts from their career. More collectible junk than I’ve ever seen before, anywhere!”

 

I agreed with her suggestion.

 

“Tiff sent another text message in the last hour. She is staying in Los Angeles for the night. Terry had to be admitted to the hospital, so they could do some kind of procedure...”

 

Kookshow frowned and curled her bottom lip.

 

“Well thunderation! That’s a bite in the ass. I was hopin’ we could all spend some time together while yer here. I owe her a ton, she’s been the best surprise sister anybody coulda wanted! I think Terry’s head is still spinnin’ about havin’ found an extra daughter. But they’re both busy with CRAGG, ya know. It’s a full-time job runnin’ all those networks and puttin’ together shows! Speakin’ of which, she told me that y’all once did yer own TV program, in New York?”

 

I felt incredibly shy, but forced myself to reminisce for her benefit.

 

“Yeah, my family moved to the Finger Lakes Region in 1978. I got an opportunity to join an apprenticeship program through Cornell University. It was for the purpose of learning about how broadcasts were made and distributed. But being a young kid at the time, I took that opportunity to express angst and rebellion in front of a live audience. It shocked and horrified my parents, particularly my father, because he was a Christian pastor. Older volunteers who had graduated already loved my stream-of-consciousness performances. But we attracted police attention at the studio, and also at my home...”

 

The scream queen chortled and cheered. She pumped her right fist in the air.

 

“Hahaha, there y’all go! Stick it to ‘em, boy! Let the po-lice go kick rocks! I bet that was a good damn time!”

 

I remembered the chaos and creativity we evoked, coming in equal measures.

 

“My show had an audience on hand that grew larger with every week. Eventually, it became necessary to think about security. But of course, I didn’t believe it was a genuine concern. During one episode, a student reveler stepped forward, handed me a liquor bottle, and invited me to partake on the air. I tiled it upward and took a swallow, handed it back to him, and kept going like Chuck Barris on the Gong Show. That got us sanctioned because there were rules about showing alcohol during a broadcast, apparently. And, I was underage at the time...”

 

Kookshow busted out with a belly laugh that made her whole body tremble.

 

“HAW HAW HAW, THAT’S A HOOT, RAWD!”

 

My head dipped while pondering the recollections. I reflected on being emotionally exhausted when the project ended.

 

“I hosted for 13 months. January of 1979 through February of 1980. We did everything. Every idea, no matter how insane, was translated into a live skit. We even brought our channel coordinator’s VW Beetle into the studio. That took some effort, as it was a confined space. At the conclusion, I was spent. Fighting with city officials, Channel 13 management, and my family at home, took a toll on me. Afterward, I spent years trying to process what happened...”

 

She whistled with disbelief.

 

“So, what did happen? What’d y’all make of it as an adult?”

 

I sighed heavily, and closed my eyes.

 

“It ended up being the most important thing I ever did, to date. It redirected the course of my life. If not for that explosion of dark energy, I might’ve followed my father on his spiritual journey. That course correction hurt our relationship for years to come...”

 

Kookshow looked somewhat sad. She had not expected my tale to end on a sour note.

 

“And that was it? Y’all never made up, again?”

 

I shook my head and groaned.

 

“It took time, but we had one connection that was never cut. I picked up the craft of writing from his example. Ultimately, that soothed the discord between us. He appreciated that I was carrying on at least part of his legacy...”

 

Unexpectedly, my temporary benefactor turned to her kitchen cabinets, and produced a bottle of bourbon, and shot glasses. She had an ornery look of defiance in her eyes.

 

“Okay man, we’ve chewed the fat fer long enough. Since you’n me both have roots in Appalachia, I think it’s about time we put on a real hootenanny! I’m gonna fire up the stereo, and we’ll have a 45 rpm, American Hot Wax, listenin’ party! Whatta ya think of that?”