The Sunday Memory Drawer - Playing 45s

The strange symbol at the top is not the new logo of Len-ism. However, it is something I clearly remember from my very early days.
This is the little do-hickey you slipped onto a 45 RPM platter so you could easily play it on your record player. And, believe you me, there were lots of them in my house.
In our pre Hi-Fi days, we had one very basic record player in our house. Sound quality: minimal. You popped the lid and plopped on the tunes. If you wanted to load multiple 45s, you spent a half hour or so shoving these little devices into the doughnut hole in the middle. Back then, you had to work hard to hear the top hits of the day.
For about a five year period, my mother was a Top 40 fiend. In New York, it was either 77 Musicradio WABC. Or WMCA at 570 on your AM dial. She gravitated to the latter because they had more call-in games. And, yes, at one point in my young life, I owned a WMCA Good Guys sweatshirt.
If my mom liked a song, she would go to the Brodbeck's record store in Mount Vernon and buy the 45. Before you knew, we had hundred of them floating around the house. And the memories some of those ditties provoke have lasted to this day. For some unearthly reason, my mother particularly loved novelty songs. Those hits that were so stupid, yet so infectious. When Alvin and the Chipmunks first got their first notoriety with that silly Christmas song, it was played in our house constantly. But, I remember more notably the song on the flip side. "Witch Doctor." With the dumbest lyrics ever.
"Ooh eeh ooh aah aah ting tang walla walla bing bang. Ooh eeh ooh aah aah ting tang walla walla bing bang."
I'd run around singing it like a moron until somebody with authority in my family situation would smack me across the kisser.
Then, there was the ridiculous “Name Game” sung by Shirley Ellis. Also known as “The Banana Song,” it took a children’s rhyming game to the top 10 on most radio stations. The song fit some proper name into this lyric scheme.
”Jack, Jack, bo-back. Banana-fana fo-fack. Fee-fi-mo-mack. Jack!”
Dumb as dirt. But, catnip for an eight-year-old who liked to run around the neighborhood inserting the name “Chuck” into the song.
Up on our block, you will remember me previously writing of the lunatic kid Dominick. He, too, would drag a portable record player out onto his front stoop for all to enjoy. The only problem is this idiot seemingly played one song over and over. Apparently, TV game show host Wink Martindale had a hit in the 50s with some piece of junk called “Deck of Cards.” In it, every single card is likened to some Biblical image. As if Jesus and the disciples had played a hand of pinochile after they polished off the Last Supper. Perhaps this was Dominick’s way of being spiritual. It, of course, wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, he’d take out a magnifying glass so he could burn some ants alive. Or maybe simply punch me in the stomach. If life was truly a deck of cards, Dominick had less than 52 in his collection.
Another bizarr-o novelty hit was TV talk show host Mike Douglas’ big success. “The Men in My Little Girl’s Life.” He took you through a lifetime of his daughter’s dates.
”Dad, there’s a boy outside. His name is Lee. He wants to carry my books for me.”
The neighborhood urchins had their own versions with a boy outside whose name might be Nick who wanted to show her his… And, of course, the Catholic altar boy rendition was “The Men in My Little Boy’s Life” as sung by Pope Paul VI.
A little later on, there was another mess that became a huge hit. “Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport” by some Australian nutjob named Rolf Harris. The song was catchy, but if you listened to the lyrics, you had no clue what this was about.
”Watch me wallaby’s feed, mate, watch me wallaby’s feed. They’re a dangerous breed, mate, so watch me wallaby’s feed. All together now! Tie me kangaroo down, sport, tie me kangaroo down. Tie me kangaroo down, sport, tie me kangaroo down.”
That was it. And the song goes on and on with a separate stanza devoted to every possible animal roaming the Outback. It could have been that dodo Steve Irwin’s wedding song. And the whole thing ends so gruesomely.
”Tan me hide when I’m dead, Fred. Tan me hide when I’m dead. So we tanned his hide when he died, Clyde. And that’s it hanging on the shed. All together now!”
Beyond being the most stupid of stupid, this was a time we were all trying to learn good grammar. And Rolf Harris provided no help in that regard.
Now, back to my home, my mom was the modern music geek. Naturally, my grandmother had nothing to do with any of this noise. As a matter of fact, she pretty much took her old victrola and her 78 RPM records of German beer garden music up to the attic and put an old slipcover on them. But, there was one American hit that did capture her fancy. For a few weeks there was a song playing on all our favorite radio stations that was also a big hit in Germany. Probably because it was sung mostly in German. The title was "Sailor - Your Home is the Sea" and it was sung by some fraulein named Lolita. My grandmother loved it and would always ask my parents to turn up the car radio when it came on. One day, I asked her to translate it for me. And she pretty much waved me off.
"Don't be stupid."
It is hard to find, but some goofball has posted a version of it on Youtube and I include it here. It's the original singer doing it almost 45 years later!

Remembering fondly that when I tried to sing along...in my best 5-year-old German, the word "schnitz" comes out sounding a lot like "shits."
And the hits just keep on coming.
Dinner last night: Quiche Lorraine from Mr. Marcel.