The Legend-News

Monday, 2002 October 7 : Volume 5, Number 20

What We Got Here in this edition of The Legend-News.

Surfin' With The Rubber Duck
A toe in the water

Back before the invention of MTV — yet another reason for the decline of Western Civilization — listening to the radio was the only way to hear new music. And to entice the listener and advertise their presence, a radio station often sought celebrity endorsements. You know, the "Hi, I'm Big Recording Act and you're listening to Really Good radio."

C.W. McCall recorded a one-minute commercial for KSO 1460 AM of Des Moines, Iowa. KSO was "The Rock of Des Moines" in the 1960s, but changed its format in 1974 to "Great Country KSO". C.W.'s commercial uses the melody from "Old Home Filler-Up An' Keep On A-Truckin' Café", with the lyrics rewritten for the personalities of KSO's new lineup.

KSO went off-the-air in 1989, but the C.W. McCall commercial survives as a RealAudio clip on, a site that's devoted to "the history of radio and TV broadcasting in Des Moines and Central Iowa". The clip can be found on the Audio Oddities page; search for "jock lineup song". You'll need RealPlayer to listen to the clip.

But if you don't have RealPlayer, just hum along to the words.

Well me an' ol' Mavis an' my Old Home rig
A-truckin' to Des Moines an' loaded with pig
When Mavis says, "how's about tunin' in some radio, country style?"
So I switched that dial, quite naturally
Yeah, fourteen-sixty is the place to be
That's good ol', down-home, Great Country KSO

Well Gary Wade rings my wake-up chime
And it's Perry St. John at drive-home time
And in-between, it's Curtis King
Yeah, that cat really knows his country
Then big Shawn Elliott does the evenin' flight
An' ol' Rick Wilson keeps truckin' all night
On good ol', down-home, Great Country KSO

They got it together

I'm a-drivin' through Clive with my radio blarin'
When this freezin' notice come on, an' swearin'
"Say, people, we're thinkin' it's gonna be a nice day" and it sure was
An' them news guys is just about the best around
The only twenty-four hour country in town
That good ol', down-home, keep on truckin' KSO

Yeah, that KSO is Great Country

In keeping with the Legend-News tradition of misunderstanding the lyrics of C.W. McCall — long-time readers will remember the "Bird Isle rooster" debacle of 2000 — we swear that the second line of the third verse is "When this freezin' notice come on, an' swearin". If, when you listen to the commercial, you have a different opinion of that line, please send your thought to

Speaking of misunderstood lyrics, there's a C.W. McCall entry regarding "Convoy" at amiright: "11 long-haired friends of Jesus in a short-troop's microbus".

You'd think that a site which is attempting to create discographies could at least have the correct name of an album. While you're there, check out the title of the fourth cut. Can you say "get a spelling checker"? I knew you could. [2012-04-26: Over nine-and-a-half-years later, those errors are still present. — Future Ed.]

Old Home Café
The Next Generation?

In the previous issue of The Legend-News, we promised that in this issue we would have something that you may or may not like. Well, this is it.

The story that you are about to read is fiction. No similarity between any of the names, characters, persons, and/or institutions in this story with those of any living or dead person or institution is intended, and any such similarity is purely coincidental. Also coincidental is the resemblance of the previous sentence to the disclaimer which appears on the first page of every issue of a Marvel Comics book.

And on with the show…

Old Home Café
A serial story by Edward Floden, based on characters and situations created by William D. Fries, Jr.

The air temperature was hot and the humidity was high on Saturday afternoon, as Jonathan Bach sat in his car near the corner of 1st and Main Streets in beautiful downtown Pisgah. He had been driving since 8 o'clock that morning, visiting several small towns in the area with no goal other than driving somewhere that an Interstate highway couldn't take him. He was thirsty and had hoped to find a cold drink in this town, but there was no grocery store or restaurant that was open for business. In fact, Pisgah didn't even have a grocery store or restaurant.

To his right, a resale shop was open, presenting its collection of Dale Earnhardt wall clocks and beer-branded pseudo-Tiffany table lamps to the half-dozen people who had wandered in from the heat outside. Catercorner from his parking space was the new branch of Community Bank. Bach wondered how optimistic was that bank, erecting a new office in a town that seemed to be shut down during a prime tourist weekend in June.

And to his left, across the street, stood a not-terribly-large cinder block building with two small picture windows bracketing a wooden door with latticework over its window. Overhead was a sign advertising "Old Home Café and Bar"; but in the right-hand picture window was a brown-and-white "for sale" sign with the name and telephone number of a local real estate agency, and the front door was locked.

Jon sighed. The only restaurant in town was defunct, and all that he had was a half-bottle of warm Coke that he'd bought in at the Casey's General Store in Audubon, six hours earlier. He took a swig of the not-so-carbonated drink and stared at the Café, wondering what financial difficulty had caused its demise. Someone must have faith in the future of this town, he thought, with a new bank building on the corner and, a couple blocks to the south, an under-construction visitor center for the Loess Hills area.

He had decided to resume driving and head for Mondamin. It was closer to Interstate 29, about 10 miles away, and he could probably find a diner there. He reached to turn on the engine's ignition and noticed a black BMW stopped on Main, preparing to make a right turn onto 1st. That car looked out-of-place here in cattle-and-corn country, and the thin layer of dust upon its shiny paint bespoke of a recent journey away from the streets of a big city.

The car turned onto 1st and headed north. The driver's side window was down, and Jon glanced at the driver as she rolled past. She was blonde, young, and didn't look particularly happy. Jon surmised that a her air conditioning wasn't working, as today wasn't a day for enjoying a cool breeze through an open window. That and the fact that her short hair was extremely messy, as if it had been wind-blown for several hours.

As the BMW continued up the street, Jon started his engine, glanced in the outside mirror, and pulled away from the curb. In the mirror he saw the license plate of the BMW:

The license plate on that BMW.

Song A’ Th’ Week
Words without music. Call 'em poems.

The cool weather has finally arrived here in McHenry, Illinois, and I'v read that Durango was speculating about getting some snow over the weekend, maybe a foot or so at 7,000 feet. Ouray's weather is clear; but autumn's definitely kicking in for those of us in North America.

Watch The Wildwood Flowers
(Ron Agnew)
From the album Roses For Mama

Jimmy Joe left the mountain 'bout seven months ago,
When the autumn nights turned cool
Chasin' a dream, like they say
Just goin' away to school

An' though he loved Amy more'n anything else,
He felt he just had to go, and make his way
An' Amy felt pretty close to dyin' when Jimmy left
That September day

Y'see, there was somethin' she had to tell him,
But the words were never found
An' as they stood there by the garden gate,
Jimmy picked a wildflower from the ground

As he placed it in Amy's hand an' kissed her,
An' her fingers touched the dew,
He wiped her tears away and told her he'd be back
Not knowin' what she knew

Watch the wildwood flowers for me
And I'll watch my dreams for you
And I promise that I'll write you everyday
And when the winter snow is gone
Touch the flowers as they grow
And when the first one blooms then I'll be on my way

Well, Jimmy Joe never wrote those letters
An' through the winter, Amy's hopes grew dim
As she felt the life inside her stir
An' she watched the flowers grow, for him

Last spring Jimmy Joe came home, too late
He found that Amy'd gone away
An' died givin' life to his baby boy
An' he recalled what he had said that September day

Watch the wildwood flowers for me
And I'll watch my dreams for you
And when the first one blooms then I'll be on my way
Watch the wildwood flowers for me
And I'll watch my dreams for you
And when the first one blooms then I'll be on my way
And when the first one blooms then I'll be on my way

Next Issue

Will Jon return home and forget all about Pisgah? Will the blonde in the BMW comb her hair? Tune in next time, same newsletter, same web site!

The Legend-News is published fortnightly — unless the fortnight is the fifth Monday, in which case it's published fortnightly-and-a-half — by TechRen Enterprises, available with zero-percent financing for a limited time only. Contents Copyright 2002 TechRen Enterprises, except for anything that we borrowed from someone else. Thanks to Bill Fries and Chip Davis for the words and music, and thanks to a Large Multinational Record Company That We Can't Name Because They Might Notice Us for not suing our pants off. "Come with me if you want to live."