In 1957 I was ten years old and the transistor radio was never more than an arm's length away. Occasionally it was tuned to WTMP, the coloured station, so that I could hear the real thing. Usually, though, I kept the dial on WALT, eleven-ten, my friend.
On Sunday afternoons I was always ready to call in and cast my vote for "Battle of the Crooners." Of course I was a soldier in the Elvis army, making sure that the King kept his spot on the throne. Gene Vincent would always get a few votes and so would Eddie Cochran. On most Sundays, "Tricky, Sticky, Rocky Ricky" would fare well, as would Sam Cooke and Buddy Holly. I was always ready to fight off any challenge from Harry Belafonte. I had seen the magazine covers warning that calypso would bring down rock'n'roll. Not on my watch!
Every now and then, despite my best efforts, Pat Boone would take first place. I was always crushed. How could this be? Surely America was better than this.
Oh, how I remember the feeling.
Thanks Ronny. Perfect timing 🎶🍀❤️
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