Where The Prairie Sun Don't Shine

« December 2008 »

Memo to MPR's Morning Show: GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE.

I've been waking up to this goddamned thing for far longer than is reasonable or healthy. Why? Three reasons. First, the station comes in clearly all the time. Second, they do the sports, complete with loud musical sting, at precisely my "get your ass up now or you'll miss your bus" time of last resort. And thirdly, no prank calls. Despite The Morning Show's many crimes against humanity, which I am about to recount, they never once engaged in that all-too-common vice of the morning DJ.

Well, The Morning Show came to an end today, and while I don't know what will greet my ears at dawn tomorrow, I know what I won't be hearing. And I won't miss a single deity-forsaken bit of it.

FUCKING ZYDECO: I hate zydeco so much I did an entire column on it once. The Morning Show played... not a LOT of zydeco, exactly, but certainly too much of it. Zydeco is a lot like moonshine. There's no time of day when it's particularly good, but if you're partaking of it right after you wake up, something is seriously fucking wrong. Saying waking people up with zydeco is a war crime does a disservice to all the hard-working war criminals out there. I gleefully anticipate my woo-wee free mornings.

WANK FOLK: The official musical staple of the show. They rely on wank folk the way America relies on corn. Constantly, and in all its many permutations. From acoustic guitar ballads about the wistful passage of time to piano-tinged paeans to lost love. Not to mention the complete soundtrack to every shitty "Irish Pub" in our nation's suburbs.

MIDWESTERN NOVELTY SONGS: The Midwest is fucked up. They know their ancestral culture is sucky and bland. That's why they've built cities like Minneapolis in otherwise uninhabitable tundra regions. So that they could leave their shitty, bland culture behind and eat Pad Thai at three in the morning. Yet they feel compelled to celebrate their shitty, bland culture with novelty songs. Five percent of these songs are tolerable, and the other 95% appeared on The Morning Show regularly. Begone, wacky songs about ice fishing and horrible Lutheran food. Darken my radio no more.

THE SKETCHES: Never funny. Sorry, but they sucked.


If covering "Over The Rainbow" is the first degree murder of the music world, and it is, then covering "What A Wonderful World" is at least involuntary manslaughter. The fact that it's done all Hawaiian-style just makes it insidious, like the home invader who poses as an encyclopedia salesman before shooting you in the face and then accidentally running over the neighbor kid during the getaway.

The first time you hear it, you're tricked into thinking it's clever. A different, cross-cultural take on a couple of old standards. The twentieth time you hear it, you're remembering that you can't spell "poison" without "poi". And the four hundredth time they play it, you're forced to shove a pineapple up your ass to distract yourself from the pain. At this point, I can't even hear the gentle jangle of the ukulele without seeing trees of red, sky of red, and clouds of red. The roses, on the other hand, are black.

With The Morning Show ending, I will never hear that song again. So thank you, Jim Ed Poole*, for retiring from radio and forcing Dale Connelly to take his Playlist Of The Damned off to the Internet, where Whole Foods moms can find their holistic alternatives to Hannah Montana and aging hipsters can still listen to music with their first chai of the morning. But the rest of us are finally free.