♪♫MADNESS MUSIC MONDAYS♫♪

I call this weekly feature, Madness Music Mondays, because my last name is Maness, which sounds a lot like madness, and I am considered kind of "mad" (CrAZy) in certain circles...well...in ALL circles...and squares...and rectangles!

Now, think of the scariest music you can remember.
(Not “Casper” music). Slow, eerie, spine chilling music.
(“Exorcist” music is too scary). What I’m trying to explain is
almost as scary as the “Exorcist” music.

Picture a dark, windy night where the barren trees move
to and fro like wandering lost souls, and the dead leaves blow
like demons moving closer for the attack.

Imagine yourself walking slowly down Dixie Drive
(crunching the gravel) to the end of the street. Not a dead
end. I wish it had been a dead end. If it had been a dead end
I would never have had to walk past the place, but it was the
last house on the street; but not a dead end. I’ll draw a
picture later and you’ll understand.

Then you see it. (Really, really loud, really scary music
like, da dummmmmmmmmm!) The “Witch’s House”. A
“Witch’s House” on my own street.

Every house on the street was the normal, ranch-style
house, but the “witch” couldn’t have an ordinary house. Oh,
no! Her house looked exactly like the “Psycho House”.
(“Psycho” music). The house was terrifying; and right on my
way to school, and on my way to Burger Bar, the bowling
alley (we never bowled, we just hung out), Ben Franklin and
all the essential places.

This part is important. You are slowly walking up the
“witch’s” driveway at one minute ‘til midnight. You see a dim
light from the upstairs window, and the silhouette of a
grotesque old woman in a rocking chair. Shaking visibly, you
are startled by the sound of the old church bell striking.
One…two. You feel the sweat (we hope it’s sweat) running
down your legs. Three…four…five. You get a cold chill when
you look up and the old woman is missing from the window.
Six…seven…eight…nine. All of a sudden, the wind picks up and
feels like ice against your skin. Ten…eleven. Something draws
your eyes to the chimney at the very highest point of the
house. TWELVE! You hear an indescribable shriek and see a
sight that will dwarf any nightmare you could ever imagine.
The “witch”. The hideous witch in a ball of green fire, flying
from the chimney and laughing a bone-chilling laugh. You pray
she doesn’t see you, but your eyes meet her white-hot, fiery
eyes.

She is not riding on a broom, or a headless horse. No,
something much more terrible. She is on a horrible, gigantic
white goose, with red eyes. She keeps repeating over and
over, between shrieks and stuff, “your goose is cooked, your
goose is cooked!”

Now, I never experienced this myself, but all the kids
said this is what happened every night at midnight. I tend to
believe it because the evidence was all there. She did have
big geese in her yard. We all thought they were really
children she had changed into geese. The old woman had to
be at least 200 years old. (Her shoes gave it away, you know,
those black high-tops with the buttons.) And here’s what
really gave it away. She had no car!

They say, she would eat a goose every Friday which
meant she needed more children to change into water fowl.
So, all the kids would run, screaming, by her house every
Friday. That’s the end to this little spook story. Didn’t it
give you goosebumps?

When you think about it, I guess that’s the only way a
200 year old woman is gonna get a goose.

ST. LOUIS SUNDAYS

Television – The Ultimate Gift to Mankind

My mom held television in such high esteem that we were
not allowed to say T.V. (Another truism). 

Out of respect for this greatest of all inventions we had to utter 
the full, glorious name, Television!

The television was always on in our home. From the
Indian test pattern in the morning to the stars and stripes
at night.

Pictures and sound that gave us educational information
from all over the world. For free!
That's right. It was totally free after the initial cost of
the television. Hallelujah!

Music, entertainment of all sorts that included,
jugglers, plate spinners, animal acts, the greatest comedians
of all time, (Red Skelton, for instance).

Everything, just everything your little heart desired,
for free!
Yes, we had to watch commercials. But don't we still
have to watch commercials even after paying our cable, and/
or, satellite dish fee?
Anyway it didn't matter to me because I loved the
commercials as much, and sometimes more than the shows.
Especially the cigarette commercials.
The truth is, I've never really been a smoker, but
I loved the cigarette advertisements..

My favorite was the Marlboro ads with the powerful
music (theme from the Magnificent 7), the rugged "big"
country, "big" sky, leather skinned cowboys ( pre-Brokeback
Mountain), on beautiful horseflesh. (These commercials were
10,000 times better than the Shamwow ads.)

In contrast, were the refreshing, delightful Salem
commercials with waterfalls, plants and flowers, and
everything fresh, new and green. (Take a puff, it’s
springtime), Yeah right.

The Kool cigarette ads were cool. Cute, expertly
animated, penguins that were sure to appeal to the kids.

The combo of television light flickering through the
fog-like Pall Mall smoke coming from mom and dad's cigarettes, made a surreal scene from an artificial “Twilight Zone”that was repeatedly created in our living room every Friday night.

The aroma of "toasted Cheerios" ( a homemade snack
invented by the poor), mixed in with cigarette smoke,
perfume, roach spray, the parmesan cheese smell of dad's
feet (it still lingers in my nostrils to this day), the toxic
outside air seeping in from the Monsanto plant, meat packing
company, and car/semi-truck fumes...made life almost
paradisaic.

The sound of the heavy black oscillating fan moving to
and fro with minimal cooling effect. The “Winston tastes good
like a cigarette should” jingle, coming from the Sylvania with
that grainy black and white picture that had to be adjusted
every five minutes. The horizontal, the vertical, the rabbit
ears... something had to be tweeked constantly.

However, when all else failed, dad would hammer the top
of the television with the side of his fist. That worked 98%
of the time. (If any of us kids would have done that our
butts would have been blistered. (But not really blist---you
know what I mean).

Now, I hope I haven’t given you a false impression. Our
living room was not silent except for the television and fan.
Far from it!
My family talked loud and non-stop.
They commented on the shows, the commercials, talked
about their jobs, sports and such.
With all of this un-ending, loud talking going on, can you
believe that no one ever got shhhuused. (You know, like a
librarian would do with her finger up to her lips.)

Why not? Because, we all had the un-canny ability to
comprehend everything that was going on all at the same
time. (I personally, have lost that ability).
Dad's baseball facts, the t.v. show, Dave and Dick's re-creation
of " On The Waterfront", Dee-Dee singing show
tunes, mom banging pots and pans, while she made "shit on
the shingle" (If you don't know what "shit on the shingle" is,
I feel sorry for you). We trapped all of it in our little
memory banks. (Sadly, or maybe not, I have lost that ability, too.)

S.O.S.

Anyway, back to commercials.
The Hertz rental car commercials were a special
effects masterpiece for that time period.
You would hear the jingle and then see an attractive
man or woman float down out of the sky into a sharp looking
convertible. ( What was the jingle.? Oh, come on! Do I have
to do everything for you?)
Very well, ♪♪"Let Hertz put you in the driver’s seat,”♫

I hope you are hackey!

Now, I could talk forever about commercials, Ed
Sullivan, the Honeymooners (one show that still makes me
laugh outloud), Industry on Parade ( don't knock it), I learned
a lot from that show, and all the other wonderful shows of
that time.

However, that's all the time I have today on this AWESOME St. Louis Sunday...April 21, 2013! 

Remember, the family that watches TV together...umm... is pretty nerdy! ! So silly, but so profound!