Phil Brown / columnist
Once upon a time Enid had a television station -- KGEO-TV channel 5. The studios were located on the northeast corner of 2nd and Randolph in downtown Enid. The building is now occupied by Enid Transmission Specialists.
In late 1956, they moved the TV station lock, stock, barrel and employees to Oklahoma City, that is, everything except the transmitting antenna. It didn't make it.
They were moving the station to OKC where it would have access to a larger market -- where they could sell more advertising, and make more money. They changed the name to KOCO-TV. The station maintained its Enid symbols, however, for many years. Until a few years ago, the backdrop on the station's news anchor set was a wall-sized photo of Enid's huge grain elevators.
But, back to the tower and antenna that didn't make it. The 650-foot tower topped by a 193-foot, 22-ton transmitting antenna collapsed in a heap of crumpled metal in October 1956, when they attempted to move the antenna from its location east of Enid to the station's new 1,187-foot tower seven miles northwest of Crescent.
It was Sunday morning, and I was watching my favorite magazine-type news show on CBS TV with Charles Osgood. I think ol' Charlie's really good. In fact, he should change his name to "Charles Really Good." The show always has at least one or two off-the-beaten-path stories about people, places and things.
I got a real honk out of this week's treasure-hunting segment. Some guy who has made a fortune in computer software hid gold tokens redeemable for $1 million worth of jewelry. The clues to the hiding places were in an elaborate children's book he published. All of them have been found. One piece of jewelry was worth $450,000. Wow! That makes reading Harry Potter a waste of time, doesn't it?
One of the tokens was hidden in southwestern Oklahoma, but they never identified the finder.
Then this guy came on extolling the virtues of five present-day songwriters. At first I thought he might be mimicking Saturday Night Live, and this was a put-on, but when it became apparent he was sincere I began to feel like I had been transported to another world where bad is good, and vise versa.
He said this one guy spent five years in a log cabin out in the woods writing songs. Wonderful! He looked like he hadn't had a haircut or a shave in more than five years. The words of his song may have had some meaning, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. He just banged on his guitar and yelled -- screamed sometimes. That's good?
All five of these "artists" were sartorially challenged to say the least. They all strummed a guitar, and none of them could enunciate clearly.
What has happened to our music? How did it devolve, so to speak, to jungle drums, tribal chants, rhyming rants and screaming, twisting, gyrating meemies? What happened to the catchy melodic rhythms, and the soothing ballads?
Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys took some pretty harsh criticism during the 1940s and '50s, because ol' Bob drank too much and smoked too much. But his music and his band sounded like the Boston Pops Orchestra alongside these ? these, whatever they are. At least we could understand the words to his songs. No! I'm not an ardent country and western fan either, but the melodies and words of "San Antonio Rose," and "You Are My Sunshine" still run through my head.
I think I'll write a letter to ol' Charlie Osgood, and ask him if that Sunday segment about the songwriters was supposed to be a joke. It just wasn't as good as Osgood.
If you have wondered what the construction work is all about at the intersection of Garriott and Monroe -- it is the future site of Freddy's Frozen Custard. However, I'm told the name is misleading, and that they will also be serving hamburgers "to-die-for."
Brown is a retired News -- Eagle editor.
Phil Brown / columnist
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