Just a quick note to wish all of you Happy Holy Daze, no matter where you may roam.
It hasn't been a great year for your favorite Uncle, but I managed to survive it. And like dozens of holiday seasons before, I will also spend this one alone. (In a way, I'm almost relieved).
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The VHUS MIXCLOUD MEMORIAL PAGE is essentially complete. I decided not to preserve volumes 1 - 7 at this time. However... the commentary is JUST interesting enough to perhaps warrant a "Very Edited Uncle Show" type presentation in the future.
At some point after the holidays - as promised - I'll begin slowly rotating episodes in/out of the VHUS Dropbox Archive. Note: these downloadable volumes are presented @ 192k bitrate. Which is why there are fewer of then now than before.
Whilst searching my digital archives for something entirely different, I stumbled upon a "Night Before Xmas" parody I wrote for one of America's greatest rock 'n' roll radio stations way back in 1994. (KOCD-FM, Joplin. Long deceased.) The best job I ever had being poor.
You don't have to know the parties named to enjoy this, but I guarantee that if you spent ANY time in commercial broadcasting, you had an engineer just like this one. Enjoy!
THE DAYPART BEFORE CHRISTMAS
'Twas the daypart before Christmas, and all through the station,
Not a damned thing was working, not even the automation.
The affidavits were stacked by the computer with care,
In hopes that Ken’s tummy soon would be there.
The part-timers were nestled all snug in their beds,
Because not ONE wanted to work that night, it was said.
With Ann on the air for her eleventh straight hour,
Ralph kept calling and saying "Low Power".
When out in the parking lot arose such a clatter,
Barb sprang from her office to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Rick ran like a doe,
Just in time to see a faint shape in the snow.
The moon shown brightly on the fresh-fallen snow,
Revealing a set of footprints aglow,
When what to Mel's wondering eyes should appear.
But a gold pickup sagging much in the rear,
With a little old driver with beard gray and black,
Even Mike Chapman knew it must be Saint Jack.
The beep of a pager is the reason he came,
And the complaints on the clipboard he called out by name:
"on R-F, on cart-decks, on Denons and phones!"
"They wouldn't be broken if you'd leave them alone."
"I've no money for parts and no patience to spare,
And fixing the SEDAT is really a bear."
Jennifer hardly believed her ears and her eyes,
As Saint Jack lept from the truck with a cry,
The new guy was pointing and smiling with glee,
As Saint Jack jumped the curb and into the trees.
And then in a twinkling Randy heard on the roof,
The clump of a pair of size thirteen boots.
Uncle looked to Alfred and both drew a frown,
And down the chimney Saint Jack came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his toes,
And the red in his costume didn't stop at his nose.
A fistful of tools he held in each hand,
Except for the one connected to his testicular gland.
The stump of a stogie he held tight in his teeth,
Staining the ever-expanding beard beneath,
He had a long face, and a Kansas sized belly,
That shook when he laughed like he just ate a deli.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf.
Vance and Teddy laughed in spite of themselves.
Bob Laurence said: "They'll not believe this at home"
Ginny was in shock and couldn't answer the phone.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Grabbed a cup of coffee, then turned with a jerk.
Plowing his finger inside of his nose,
then giving a grunt, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his truck, to Micki gave a whistle,
And shot out of the lot like a patriot missile.
And we heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
Not a damned thing was working, not even the automation.
The affidavits were stacked by the computer with care,
In hopes that Ken’s tummy soon would be there.
The part-timers were nestled all snug in their beds,
Because not ONE wanted to work that night, it was said.
With Ann on the air for her eleventh straight hour,
Ralph kept calling and saying "Low Power".
When out in the parking lot arose such a clatter,
Barb sprang from her office to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Rick ran like a doe,
Just in time to see a faint shape in the snow.
The moon shown brightly on the fresh-fallen snow,
Revealing a set of footprints aglow,
When what to Mel's wondering eyes should appear.
But a gold pickup sagging much in the rear,
With a little old driver with beard gray and black,
Even Mike Chapman knew it must be Saint Jack.
The beep of a pager is the reason he came,
And the complaints on the clipboard he called out by name:
"on R-F, on cart-decks, on Denons and phones!"
"They wouldn't be broken if you'd leave them alone."
"I've no money for parts and no patience to spare,
And fixing the SEDAT is really a bear."
Jennifer hardly believed her ears and her eyes,
As Saint Jack lept from the truck with a cry,
The new guy was pointing and smiling with glee,
As Saint Jack jumped the curb and into the trees.
And then in a twinkling Randy heard on the roof,
The clump of a pair of size thirteen boots.
Uncle looked to Alfred and both drew a frown,
And down the chimney Saint Jack came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his toes,
And the red in his costume didn't stop at his nose.
A fistful of tools he held in each hand,
Except for the one connected to his testicular gland.
The stump of a stogie he held tight in his teeth,
Staining the ever-expanding beard beneath,
He had a long face, and a Kansas sized belly,
That shook when he laughed like he just ate a deli.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf.
Vance and Teddy laughed in spite of themselves.
Bob Laurence said: "They'll not believe this at home"
Ginny was in shock and couldn't answer the phone.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Grabbed a cup of coffee, then turned with a jerk.
Plowing his finger inside of his nose,
then giving a grunt, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his truck, to Micki gave a whistle,
And shot out of the lot like a patriot missile.
And we heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
D.L. Bogart
1994
With apologies to the source material.
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And would it REALLY be Christmas with this picture?
(pretty much how I plan on spending the holidays this year)
CONTACT VHUS!
(We still check the InBox now and then)
Thanks for listening!
Uncle D.L.
The Very Heavy Uncle Show
2014 - 2017
VOTE BLUE!!! NO MATTER WHO!
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