KELOLAND.com Blogs

Funny, it was one of those Super Bowl games that I couldn’t care less which team won.

When New Orleans finally did pull off the victory, I sort of felt bad for the Colts..but then I’m always doing that: hating to see the stunned and saddened faces of fans, players and coaches. That’s what rooting for the Vikings over 48 years will do to you .

Actually, I was more anxious about seeing this year’s batch of Super Bowl commercials than the game itself..and there were plenty of them squeezed in the four hours.

How about we play a little game ourselves..where you comment on your three favorite..or least favorite ads?

I’ll start:

I thought the Late Night with David Letterman promo featuring Dave and his nemesis, Jay Leno, on a couch together with Oprah Winfrey sitting between them as a mediator..was great. Considering all the barbs that have been flying between these two former friends and Leno’s return to the Tonight Show, I was shocked and tickled. I read today that Leno actually flew to New York to do the spot which seems odd since he’s promoting the competition..but it was fun to see.

My second favorite was the Snickers ad featuring the wonderful Betty White getting banged around in a pick-up football game. She is such a delight and great sport as is Abe Vigoda..seen being tackled at the end of the spot. The actor first seen in The Godfather movie must be 120 years old by now.

My next favorite is a tie between the E*Trade babies..which always crack me up, and the little kid slapping around his single mom’s date for the evening..admonishing the suitor not to touch either his mother or his Doritos.

Most disappointing?

I wasn’t impressed with the Bud Light beer can house. I saw a feature on all the effort that went into making that commercial. It sort of left me cold..so to speak.

The Coke spot featuring the Simpsons characters also didn’t do much for me. The evil ruthless billionaire, Montgomery Burns goes broke, loses everything then receives pity from Appu who hands him a bottle of  Coca Cola and all is well. It was a sixty second spot and felt like it.

Finally, I hated the Brett Favre spot showing him in ten years at age 50 still unable to decide whether he should retire from football or not. I’m still smarting enough from that interception he threw two weeks ago in New Orleans to find anything he says or does funny.

Don’t agree?

Have at it with a comment or two.

You can review the ads by CLICKING HERE.

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What is the worst song ever recorded?

I got to thinking about that the other day as I was driving up to Watertown by myself and scanning the AM radio dial in search of some music instead of sports talk for a change. (Every sports talk radio host can only go about five minutes these days before bringing up how the Vikings threw away another opportunity to be playing in the Superbowl and I’m still not ready to  be reminded of that debacle against the Saints which left every Minnesota fan, who had dared to hope again, as deflated as the Hindenburg.)

The dial stopped at 910 The Ranch in Brookings which was playing old country.   I like country music okay but some of those tunes from the early days were real groaners; “If finger prints showed up on skin” by Freddie Hart always made MY skin crawl.  Same with some of the popular rock and roll songs of my generation (50’s & 60’s) which I just considered awful even though I played in a rock and roll band myself.

Topping the list was “Surfin’ Bird” by The Trashmen.  

It is regarded by some as the birth of REAL rock and roll laid open to the bare bones through pounding drums and electronic guitar racket in the key of E with a raspy repetitious satanic voice belching out non- seneschal lyrics appealing to our Neanderthal instincts insisting that the bird’s the word.

It was, I felt, playing right into the hands of those parents and preachers who believed  rock and roll was evil to the core and the snare used by Beelzebub to swoop up rebellious teenagers into his lair.

But how could you group The Trashmen in with the likes of Roy Orbison, Buddy Holly, James Brown, Elvis, Connie Francis, The Everly Brothers, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, every singer on MoTown and all the other GENUINE  musical talents of the day?

But I hated The Trashmen for more than “Surfin’ Bird.”

I hated them because they were bad luck. I went to three of their concerts in the early 60’s and came close to getting my head bashed in at each one of them.

I’m not sure why, but in high school, I had my own version of the Scut Farkus from “A Christmas Story.” (That WAS the bully’s first name, by the way, not Scott.)

My nemesis’ name was Gary or Jerry..I can't remember. He was from  Brookings who had a reputation as a “foot”fighter.

I’d never actually seen him in action but everyone said that long before anybody had heard of martial arts, he’d mastered the technique of lifting his leg up in a split second and able to knock your block off before you know what hit you. He and his toady, Virgil, would show up at dances where my band was playing and give me the stink eye on stage.

I don’t know why they hated my guts so much but they seized every opportunity to back me into a corner and make me beg for mercy…which, I’m ashamed to admit I did on every occasion including at two Trashmen appearances at the Showboat Ballroom in Lake Benton and one at the Brookings Armory.

I never did feel the sting of Gary or Jerry's number 12’s on my nose but have also never forgotten the shame of wimping out in front of my friends as The Trashmen were playing that annoying "Papa ooh mow mow” in the background.

I don’t blame The Trashmen for their success with “Surfin’ Bird” because they were actually a pretty darn good band; doing  a lot of non-novelty top forty stuff too.

In fact, three of the original members..all pushing 70 now.. are still together and big hits in Europe where they begin another tour next month.

Wouldn’t it be something if I went to their concert in Oslo and this old guy came up threatening to kick my teeth in?

I’d probably still chicken out.

PS The new South Dakota Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum is now open on the second floor of the Pavilion. Lots more stuff to add but it's really taking shape!

There’s the McCormick reaper.

There’s Elias Howe’s sewing machine.

There’s Eli Whitney’s cotton gin.
 

And then there’s this contraption, sort of a tequila gin, or is that redundant? 

Click “play” and…play…

I’ve had lots of awkward and embarrassing moments in my lifetime. One in particular occurred many years ago when, after a golf game, my two brothers, a friend and I stopped at the Brookings Dairy Queen for refreshments. I, of course, was elected to go up to the window to place our order. (No drive-thru or indoor seating back then.)  In the line ahead of me, taking their sweet time deciding what they wanted, were four or five huge guys who appeared to be SDSU football linemen. My big brother, Denny, rarely missed an opportunity to get a laugh at my expense, yelled out the window, “Doug, I thought you said you were going to shove those apes out of the way if they didn’t hurry up.”

I’d said no such thing, of course, but I was lucky those jocks didn’t stomp me into the ground like a used up Marlboro.

I only mention this because, over the weekend, a similar thing happened when someone, obviously trying to get me into trouble,  commented on my latest blog claiming that he or she heard me bad mouthing Keloland TV and did so on a regular basis .  What made that lie particularly offensive was that it came at a time when all of Keloland is mourning the loss of our beloved Dave Dedrick.

I have the power to delete comments but rarely do so unless it’s that annoying and prolific spam which infests popular internet blogs like buzzards on a rotting carcass.  I’m a big boy and can take criticism but will not abide computer vultures whose aim is to try stir things up just for laughs or to make me squirm…that comment was axed.

As a matter of fact, I spent a delightful couple of hours Friday night with Kelo colleagues, past and present, at a Keloland alumni reunion.

Lots of former and current employees showed up at Falls Landing to share a few beers, loads of laughs and fond memories of their time working at the station. As I made the rounds trying hard to put the right names to familiar faces, the recurring theme was “do you remember when…?”

I spent a lot of time talking with photographers and producers about some of the crazy stories I roped them into doing for Lund at Large or Eye on Keloland stories. Josh Munce likes to remind me of the one we did on the Sinai area farmer who raises camels. When it came time for someone to take a ride on that dromedary..I  grabbed Josh’s camera and started shooting as he reluctantly climbed aboard.

Madeline Shields accepted my long overdue apology for erupting in a rage when a 5 O’clock news show she produced disintegrated into a sea of technical foul-ups over which she had no control.

Had nice visits with former production people, engineers and news staff all of whom have good memories of their time at Keloland TV even though a few of them didn’t leave of their own accord.

I don’t know too many people who’ve gotten wealthy working in local television. Come to think of it, I don’t know anybody who has.

But it sure was fun hanging out and reminiscing the other night with other folks who, like me, have been immeasurably enriched by the Keloland experience.