Sunday, June 22, 2014
How to kill fleas...
Let me first explain the title of this post. It's an old phrase I grew up with in Iceland and it simply means "Now I am truly surprised," which, indeed, I was around 5:30 this Sunday morning.
If you have followed this blog, you probably know how I feel about the recent addition of a "gospel" program. In fact, I have come down hard on its host, Daulton Anderson, for what I saw as a waste of air time that could have been spent on some great black church music. It brought to mind the disappointment I felt many years ago when I went to San Francisco's Fairmont Hotel to hear the original Supremes at the peak of their popularity. I loved the Supremes and their amazing repertoire, but what came from the stage that evening was something less than wonderful. No "Baby Love" for this mid-Sixties white crowd— someone had decided—give them "Rockabye My Baby."
Getting back to Daulton Anderson's High Praize program, it is still largely a bland mishmash of de-souled religious music, and I haven't changed my views on that. I have, however, done a 380 when it comes to my opinion of Mr. Anderson. You could hear those Nordic fleas drop all around me, and you will probably understand why when you listen to the following excerpt from this morning's High Praize. While you're dong that, I have some recently deceased Pulex irritans to despose of.
As I await your comments, let me say that I find it odd that Berthold Reimers did not announce these significant changes during Thursday morning's Report. The decision to bring Through the Opera Glass into the living room and kick Walden's Pond into the bottom of the night was, I think a good one. I will miss Beyond the Pale, however.