Some cable networks air so many commercials in a half-hour slot that shows require heavy editing just to fit. Watching a rerun of Leave It to Beaver or Curb Your Enthusiasm on a commercial channel is an exercise in filling in the blanks. Wait? Who was that guy? Why are they mad at him?

If TV advertising were water, we’d all drown before The Today Show signed off. Yet we’ve somehow survived only to learn that those who covet our coin have put some new cartridges in their clip. They’re called “secondary events”—basically they are nothing less than electronic tumors superimposed digitally on the show as it’s broadcast.

Computer-generated events can be as simple as a trademark that occupies the screen’s lower righthand corner. These are sometimes called “logo bugs,” and a great many networks use them in the apparent belief that we’re too stupid to know which channel we’re watching.

A secondary event can also be a complicated visual message promoting an upcoming show or some other happening. It can occupy a quarter of your viewing area for 10 seconds or longer. The other evening, I recorded a Law & Order re-run on TNT. The next morning I counted its secondary events, a lonely exercise but one worth doing. If you’re a masochist.

The primary advertising hit in five bursts: at 4, 13, 23, 38, 50, and 59 minutes into the show. The five breaks contained a total of 42 commercials of varying lengths and amounted to 22 minutes of viewing, leaving Jack McCoy and the New York legal system only 38 minutes to convict the accused.

During most of the hour, the TNT logo bug squatted in my screen’s lower right corner. Twice, a promotional message for season premieres materialized at the bug’s immediate left and remained there for an average of eight minutes.

On eight occasions, a silent secondary event swept from left to right across the screen. Counting the sporadic appearances of the logo bug as a single happening, I had to watch no fewer than 12 secondary events.

Having worked at three national ad agencies, I quite understand advertising’s role in a free market. But enough is enough. And then some. If I behave like an obedient consumer and sit through 42 commercials in an hour, I have given the marketers sufficient opportunity.

Neither Elvis Presley nor I ever worked as a TV critic, but now that I’ve written this piece, we share non-professional credits in the field. As an amateur critic, Elvis was superb; when a program displeased him, he was known to fire a large-caliber handgun at his TV set. Describing one such incident, an Elvis sidekick wrote, “He just put down his breakfast, drew a gun, blew the TV out, and said, ‘That’ll be enough of that [expletive].’”

So far, I’ve restrained myself from going the Elvis route.

Aw, Shoot! The Saturday Evening Post

The King of Rock 'n Roll, Elvis Presley.

The recent passing of Dick Clark reminded us of the early days of rock music—back when it was alternately called “rock and roll” and The End of Civilization.

Though we remember Clark as a perennially nice, inoffensive guy, he was a force for change in the ’50s. Not only did he play the teen music that parents disliked so much, he insisted on welcoming black teens into his studio audience, and traveling through the South in a racially mixed tour. His “Caravan of the Stars” bus was often denied service and even threatened by armed segregationists.

Just as significant, though, was his promoting of rock ‘n’ roll, which helped integrate black and white traditions and audiences.

When it emerged unexpected in the 1950s, many Americans were shocked and suspicious of this strange, energetic new sound.They were accustomed to “pop” music. But rock ‘n’ roll was, in fact, true “pop” music if the word is meant as an abbreviation of “popular.”

Up to that time, the musical tastes of Americans had been largely shaped by a big industry with a few record labels, which determined much of the music America heard.

As a 1959 article reported, however, the predominance of these companies fell when a few small, independent studios, with little budget and no advertising, produced enormous hit records.

Up until a few years ago there was a fairly orderly sequence that took place in the launching of a new “pop” record. Everything was done big. Whenever one of the major recording companies came across a catchy tune, the company assigned it to a big-name singer, backed him up with a big-name band, then unleashed a barrage of publicity.

Today the popular-record business… is dominated by the smalls and the unknowns.

Knowledgeable men in the field agree … the record revolution started on a hot day in 1953 when a slim high-school boy, with his hair nearly down to his shoulders, fidgeted with a beat-up guitar below the windows of the newly opened Sun Recording Studios in Memphis, Tennessee.

The boy, who had taken time off from his after-school job at the Crown Electric Company, spent an hour of indecision out on the sidewalk before he got his courage up and walked one flight up to the small one-room studio. When Sam Phillips, [Sun’s] owner, approached, the boy gulped and said, “Please, mister, I’d like to make a record for my mother.”

“Sure, buddy, just relax and we’ll give it a try,” Phillips said encouragingly.

Phillips was impressed, “the boy was just a raw kid with no training, but he had an interesting sound.” Phillips eventually found the “right song” for Presley —“Without Love.” As Phillips told the reporters, they “had to work hard to get the best out of his style”.

And even when we got something that sounded right, we had a terrible time getting any disc jockey to play it. The only place we got his records played at first was in the Negro sections of Chicago and Detroit and in California.”

Buddy Holly.

But the sound eventually drifted into the hearing of America’s teenagers, where it struck a resounding chord.

After Presley’s overwhelming success [selling 35 million records by that year], unknown studios and artists were eager to try their luck, completely bypassing the big record labels.

Buddy Holly was another star-out-of-nowhere. Throwing together a few songs with a combo he’d assembled in Lubbock, Texas, he drove with his band—The Crickets—out to a tiny recording studio in Clovis, New Mexico—as far from the heart of the recording industry as you can get in the lower 48 states. By the time of his death, 30 months later, he had sold 6 million records—most of which had been recorded in the shadow of the big grain elevator in ‘downtown’ Clovis.

[Inspired by these successes,] youngsters with dreams of glory and gold pooled their talents. A singer would write his own song, hunt up a couple of instrumentalists, and they’d bang out tunes in rumpus rooms, living rooms or basements until they had something they thought was worth recording. Then they’d try to peddle their tapes. If a producer thought they had a “sound,” some unusual quality, either instrumental or vocal, that might drive the teen-agers wild, he’d take a gamble and make records.

This pattern, repeated over and over, revolutionized the popular-record field.

Today 70 to 80 per cent of the hits are being turned out by youngsters you never heard of a month or two ago, and who may disappear from the public scene just as abruptly as they came.

The major companies [are]… still turning out many records, but their hits don’t come as easily as they used to.

The biggest [obstacle] is the inflexibility of the major record companies. The independents are able to adapt quickly to any shift in teen-age tastes; the big organizations, saddled with protocol and chains of command, can’t move as fast.

Many record companies have found, too, that it’s a risky business to buy a new hit and re-record it with big-name singers and musicians. The teen-agers almost always prefer the original recording… [they] refuse to be impressed by the big-name approach.

The Everly Brothers.

As the early sounds of rock music poured out of teenager’s radios and record players, adults who were accustomed to ‘big name talent’ (Tony Martin, Jo Stafford, Kay Starr) created their own ‘new sound’: a strident, continual chorus of complaints about that ‘gawdawful music.’

As the Post authors noted, their criticism could actually ensure the survival of rock ‘n’ roll.

According to many teenagers, rock ‘n’ roll never would have got as popular as it is if their elders didn’t hate it so violently. It’s something to think about. The young parents of today compose the generation that went all out for swing against the noisy objections of their parents; and their parents used to get all giggly over ragtime. And so on and so on, back to the day some Neanderthal father listened in outrage as his son got off some hot licks with matched dinosaur-bone drumsticks on the family tom-tom. It must have seemed to that early man that the kids were going absolutely to the dogs.

Today the budding Elvis or Buddy doesn’t even need a small-town recording studio. They can put together their own hit in front of their computer, launch it on YouTube, then sit back and wait for the agents and record companies to show up.

The no-studio viral-marketing approach might have given us Justin Bieber, or any number of other rising artists you don’t like, but if the music industry was still controlled by a few record labels, we might still be listening to Frankie Laine and Rosemary Clooney.

The Rock Revolution in the Dick Clark Days The Saturday Evening Post

Tom Selleck

Tom Selleck
Lucian Lupinski
March, 1987

We recently came across a cache of Lucian Lupinski paintings. Who was Lucian Lupinski? Lucian was an artist-in-residence who worked at the Post from 1973 through the late 1980’s. In the 1980’s, the Post often featured a current celebrity, politician or other notable on the cover and Lucian was great at painting portraits. It was a kismet-kind of combination. After trying to explain who Larry Hagman and Julio Iglesias were to the intern (with sudden inspiration, I declared: “Enrique’s dad!”), while going through the artwork, I was delighted to find the intern knew knew Tom Selleck. She exclaimed, “he was on Friends!” Yes, he was, but I feel sorry for any woman who doesn’t remember the twinkle in the eye of Magnum, P.I. Yes, ladies, the original painting is to swoon over. We will see that many of our 80′s celebrities are still active, including Selleck, who is currently starring as head of a family with a history of police service, and as police chief on the CBS series Blue Bloods.

Bill Cosby

Bill Cosby
Lucian Lupinski
April 1986

Happily, every generation knows Cos. The April 1986 issue of the Post declared that Bill Cosby arrived just in time to save the television sitcom. That is not an overstatement. “Cosby has rescued TV’s degenerating comedy situation by cleaning p the act and going back to the basics of love and laughter in family life,” the article noted. Who was ever so fun to watch with kids?

Elvis

Elvis
Lucian Lupinski
July/August 1985

Naturally, the young intern knew this one. Although he died in 1977, Elvis was on the cover in 1985 for a story called, “Legends That Will Not Die”. Boy, is that an understatement. Cheesy outfit or not, the legend of Elvis continues, twenty-six years after this cover. The legends in the article? Besides Elvis, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Babe Ruth and John Wayne. As legends that won’t die, those are good ones.

Vanna White

Vanna White
Lucian Lupinski
May/June 1987

“Great painting of Vanna White,” my young cohort exclaimed. Okay, totally unfair, Vanna. Anyone would recognize you because you haven’t changed a bit since 1987. Still looking stunning in her gowns, still the great smile, still turning those letters after all these years. How many of us can claim we’ve been in the same job since 1982?

Elizabeth Taylor

Liz Taylor
Lucian Lupinski
September 1987

Some “celebrities” even I had forgotten, but some will always be recognized by young and old (or, uh, middle-aged) alike. Artist Lupinski’s gorgeous, brown-eyed Clint Eastwood didn’t make the cover. There was a story on this mayor of Carmel, California in September 1987, but the cover was another Lupinski portrait: Elizabeth Taylor. Medically oriented in those years, the Post was big on the fight against AIDS, and Ms. Taylor was a dazzling spokesperson for that cause. Well, fine, I’ll just keep Clint all to myself.

Diane Sawyer

Diane Sawyer
Lucian Lupinski
April 1987

I was also pleased the intern instantly recognized Diane Sawyer. I think the Selleck and Sawyer paintings were Lupinski’s best. “Look how beautiful she is here!” I said, hoisting the original painting. “She’s still beautiful,” the intern replied simply. You know, I think there may be hope for this younger generation yet.

Classic Covers: 1980s Celebrities The Saturday Evening Post

History Highway

The Historic National Road

In 1806 Thomas Jefferson approved federal funding for one of the first interstate road projects. Known today as the Historic National Road, it stretches 824 miles through six states, from the East Coast nearly to the Mississippi, following the modern I-70 for much of its length.

As befits the route that made the westward migration possible for thousands of settlers, the Road is strewn with sites of historical interest. From the eastern terminus near Hollins Market, the oldest of Baltimore’s public markets and centerpiece of the artsy Union Square neighborhood (market open Tuesday-Saturday; www.union-square.us), you’ll pass Casselman River Bridge State Park, as well as historic inns and tollhouses. From Maryland, the Road swings west through southern Pennsylvania, with a stop at the Fort Necessity National Battlefield, site of the first battle of the French and Indian War. The Old Petersburg Tollhouse, built from native-cut stone, still stands along the roadside.

On the National Road, Maryland's Casselman River Bridge was once the longest of its kind in the U.S.
Photo: Lardner/Klein Landscape Architects, Jim Klein

Passing through a corner of West Virginia, the Road continues into Ohio, where you can ponder the changes in American transportation at the Aviation Heritage National Historical Park in Dayton (www.aviationheritagearea.org). Cut across the entire breadth of Indiana, taking in the famous “Antique Alley”—an extensive loop encompassing more than 900 shops and dealers; it’s the ultimate destination for any fan of collectibles (www.visitrichmond.org). The Road ends in Illinois, the land of Lincoln. Leave time for visits to the Lincoln Log Cabin State Historic Site (www.lincolnlogcabin.org) as well as the Lincoln School Museum in Martinsville (open Sunday afternoons through the summer, 217-382-6666).

Tracing a Path

The Natchez Trace Parkway

Following what is perhaps the oldest continuously used travel route in the U.S., the Natchez Trace Parkway—
a 444-mile stretch of two-lane blacktop running south-
by-southwest from Nashville to the banks of the Mississippi—began as a dirt trail used by the earliest European traders and missionaries, and by local Native American tribes for centuries before that. Travel here was once so hazardous that the trail was called “The Devil’s Backbone.” Today, the Parkway offers the natural beauty 
and rich cultural heritage of the South. Note: Because it sits on mostly high ground, only a few areas of the Parkway were impacted by the flood waters that hit the Nashville area earlier this year. While the entire Parkway is expected to be passable by summer, it’s always a good idea to call ahead and confirm your itinerary.

Also known as "Nutt&rquo;s Folley," the octagonal mansion at Natchez&rquo;s Longwood Plantation was never completed due to a turn of fortune.
Photo by Dennis Adams

On the Parkway, two wheels are as good as four, as the entire road is a designated bicycling area. Along the way, there’s boating and fishing at Laurel Hill Lake in Lawrenceville, Tennessee (931-762-7200), and hiking, camping, and nature trails at Tishomingo State Park in Mississippi (662-438-6914). Or simply stop to smell the wildflowers tracing the trail.

The Parkway is rich in Native American historical sites. In Tupelo you will find the ceremonial Emerald Mound, the Grand Village of the Natchez, and the Chickasaw Village and Fort. You can also pay homage to “the King” at the Elvis Presley Birthplace (www.elvispresleybirthplace.com).

At the Mississippi Crafts Center in Ridgeland, you’ll find artwork and housewares from regional crafters working in traditional and contemporary forms (www.mscrafts.org). Finally, surrender to the charms of old Natchez and view gracious antebellum homes in the city’s historic district (www.natchezms.com).

Rolling on the River

Great River Road National Scenic Byway

The mighty Mississippi is, in a way, the original interstate highway, used for ages to transport goods and passengers downriver. Trace that epic path on the Great River Road National Scenic Byway—a route following the course of the Mississippi through 10 states and over 2,000 miles, from the headwaters to the delta, from St. Paul to New Orleans, straight through the heart of America.

Spend a week or two following Old Man River downstream—through Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and finally, Louisiana—and you’ll sample a great swathe of the American experience. Along with unparalleled views of the “Father of Waters,” there are ample stops for bird and wildlife watching, outdoor recreation, shopping, historical sightseeing, and more.

Beautiful old cypress trees surround a natural fish hatchery at Reelfoot Lake State park in Tiptonville, Tennessee.
Photo by Amie Vanderford.

Music runs deep along the river, and many festivals and performance series are held along the route, from Wisconsin’s Riverfest (June 30-July 4, www.riverfestlacrosse.com), presenting dozens of musical groups on six stages, to the annual blues and jazz fests in Davenport, Iowa; from the St. Louis Municipal Opera—this year featuring live outdoor performances of Beauty and the Beast, The Sound of Music, Damn Yankees, and more—to the renowned jazz clubs of New Orleans (www.riverroads.com).

Hit the Road! The Saturday Evening Post

A quick glance in the Post Archives shows the fledgling King of Rock ‘n’ Roll as the subject, at least partially, of seven articles, beginning with Pete Martin’s “I Call on Bing Crosby” interview in the May 11, 1957, issue and concluding with “There’ll Always Be an Elvis” by C. Robert Jennings on September 11, 1965.

About halfway through the Bing Crosby article, pals Martin and Crosby got on the subject of those crazy teenagers and their awful music (at least according to Martin). When Martin tries to get Crosby to agree with him, Crosby—much to his friend’s (and probably his fans’) chagrin—doesn’t take the bait. “He sings in tune and he’s got good rhythm,” Crosby says of Presley. In Martin’s “I Call on Dick Clark” interview from 1959, interviewer and interviewee locked horns over the merits of both Presley and the entire genre in which he is considered the king. “Personally, I think [Elvis is] handsome and has nice features,” Clark is quoted. “He is quiet, well spoken and fairly intelligent.”

Presley is also mentioned in a June 1960 article called “Big Gamble on the Stars,” about the insurance policies movie studios took out on their stars; when Elvis broke a tooth on the set of 1957’s Jailhouse Rock, his studio collected nearly $3,000. And in October 1963’s “Pop Music: The Dumb Sound,” his name makes a one-sentence cameo when his latest hit (“[You’re the] Devil in Disguise”) gets lumped alongside tunes and artists the author considers amateurish.

It took William Saroyan, writer and fellow rebel (notorious for winning—and refusing—a Pulitzer Prize when Elvis was just a five-year-old in Tupelo, Miss.), to capture the true spirit of the man, and his music, in a Post essay entitled “It’s Me, O Lord” (April 18, 1964). Nearly ten years have passed since Presley’s first Sun Records single came out, and Saroyan—by now living as an expatriate—finds himself one morning sitting in a bar nursing a brandy. Suddenly, someone plays “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” on the jukebox:

“The singer was Elvis Presley, one of the greatest of the singers, although much-maligned. After singing the first verse, Elvis Presley does something like a recitative, … and one of the things he says to this girl is, ‘Honey, you lied.’ Elvis Presley says these few words, these banal and unacceptable words, with so much earnestness, so much astonishment, pain, honesty, and art that the words are suddenly not banal at all, but magnificent, and not unacceptable, but welcome. He says them … as if he is talking to the verities, the enormities, the unverifiable verities, and the very probably terribly small enormities. And so I had to have the jukebox play the song six more times before I was willing to say good night and go on down the hill to my ice-cold house in Paris.”

As of mid-2008, the Library of Congress’ online catalog listed more than 600 “hits” (books, films, recordings, and so on) dedicated to Elvis Presley. Of those “hits,” Elvis, The Last 24 Hours by Albert Goldman (1991) makes a compelling case that Presley killed himself in 1977, partly because of his finances (he seriously considered filing for bankruptcy) but also because of health problems due in no small measure to his prodigious drug-taking and eating habits. A damning book was just published about him, and he was facing an upcoming concert tour, forced to perform in increasingly backwater areas of the country for significantly lower fees.

But thirty years later, the King’s legacy reigns restored and intact. Annually, thousands of fans flock to Graceland, and Presley, according to Forbes magazine, hit a high note as the top-earning deceased celebrity in 2007, raking in $49 million. Despite the entertainer’s often-turbulent life, the world continues to cherish his music and celebrated moments.

The King: Still Making Waves The Saturday Evening Post