I almost drove off the road this morning while listening to The Jack Riccardi Show.
Apparently, the City of San Antonio is kicking off its year-long Tricentennial celebrations with a live concert at Civic Park featuring headliners…REO Speedwagon.
That’s right. I have not been drinking. I said REO Speedwagon.
Was Starship not available? Air Supply all booked-up for the year? Jumping Jesus.
Apart from being damned depressing for the good people of San Antonio, the announcement itself surely sent a ripple of psychic pain and bad memories through the hearts of every broadcaster over the age of 50 who, at the lowest point of our collective careers, had to “make their bones” playing Soft Rock, or what used to be known as ‘Adult Contemporary.’ Most of us in the radio business referred to it as Caucasian Vagina Rock, among other less elegant names, and it was the kind of artless crap the music industry was pumping out like Soylent Green wafers back in the dark days of the late 80’s/early 90’s.
And we played a lot of REO Speedwagon.
And we hated it.
And we hated ourselves for playing it.
Personally, I connect many of my difficulties with alcohol and depression in later years directly to the playing of “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore” at least once an air-shift, and having to sound happy about it. Oh, God. The humanity.
As for San Antonio, the choice makes about as much sense as letting Al Franken check your sister’s tonsils, or, for that matter, signing P-ssy Riot to play your nine-year-old kid’s birthday party.
The Alamo City is one of the most culturally diverse towns in America, rich in history and multi-ethnic influences, which surely must have more than a few local bands within its own borders that would reflect San Antonio’s 300 years of colorful existence better than freaking REO Speedwagon.
Seriously, dudes. Speedwagon is wanker music for nerds and ignored housewives.
We should take the money we allotted for Milktoastwagon and give it over to Augie Meyers and a couple of local Tejano bands, and THEN you’ll have a concert worthy of the blood splashed against the walls of the Alamo on the Tricentennial of this town’s historic birth.
Just sayin’. Pard.
Jesus loves you and so do I,