Dear Loonis,
I was sitting around thinking about you and all the
good times my life has enjoyed because of you. Tells
you I don't have enough to do, doesn't it?
Anyhow, what still
came to mind first was that number you and Julian Massi
pulled on me regarding the jingle you wrote and "produced" for
me and the Ivey's account for radio.
"Come on down to the studio, John," you
said, "It's
ready." Down I trot to hear the great epic production
that was going to at long last get Ivey's on WBT radio.
Irv Jackson, married to the granddaughter of J. B. Ivey
was the GM at Ivey's. He was always thinking of the image
of their stores and how to attract only the right people
through their sophisticated and tasteful advertising. "Mighty
Whitey" knew good music.
Into the studio do I trundle and there you are with
John Burchett. You start in on me selling the greatness
of the melody and how thrilled you were to get just the
right singer to perform this ice-breaking epic. Pitch,
pitch, pitch. It was as if you had taken the Harold Hinson
salesman course.
Came the big moment. Half a dozen others from radio
sales had come in to hear the presentation. Julian, Lovell,
Harold, and various other enthusiastic fans.
I'm nervous as hell knowing that Mr. Jackson is big
buddies with Crutchfield and the results of all this
were surely to be communicated to Crutch at the City
Club later. Burchett rolls the tape. There's not a dry
ear in the place, or something like that.
The always-a-pleasure-to-listen-to
Loonis & Company
instrumental opens and the anticipation builds. Intro
done, here comes the vocalist.
From the tradition
of Motown to the Cotton Club in Harlem. From Second
Ward to South Tryon, the soul of the singer began singing, "From the moment you walk through
the door, you'll know that Ivorie's is your kind of store." The
room freezes. No one moves. I go to a minus three on
the wedgy scale. As my young and shaky career passes
by my ears, all I can think about is "Mighty Whitey" sitting
at the City Club telling Crutchfield about this smart-assed
kid from his radio station presenting this "knee-grow" rendition
of the lyric he liked so much. I don't think I even heard
the remainder of the 60-second version as I was frozen
in my tracks thinking about going back to work at Park-N-Shop.
("Help you with those bags, sir?")
At last, it seemed
to be over. You, Loonis, were once again raving about
the performance and trying to get me to sign on to
the cheerleading. Everyone in the room shared your
enthusiasm. Way-to-go’s
abounded. Loonis had done it again.
You were now asking
for my reaction. I rambled on about what a great contemporary
piece it was and just right, no doubt, for the new
WBT sound and format. But, is this exactly what the
Ivey's group had in mind to attract the old line Charlotte
money crowd? No doubt that this would play well on
our air but even though the singer was truly "unique,,
would she be right for Mr. Jackson and others whose
best talent was to inherit well.
Faces were serious
and staring, led by you. "But,
John" rang out from all corners. "But, John,
it's"............
And then,
Julian broke up,
followed by the entire crowd, which by then had grown
to a small mob. The one laughing the hardest was you.
For maybe five seconds I didn't understand the explosion
and then it hit me. I knew I had heard that singer
before. It was Julian Massi in his finest “soul
sister” voice with you and your band complimenting
his every Moms Mabley note.
Yep, 'ol friend, you got me best I was ever got. I think
I was red faced for a week. Thank goodness the real version
of the music brought warmth to Jackson's heart, the only
acceptable thing black in his body.
So feel better and I hope this brings back a grin you
deserve for making me, at age 22, feel important enough
to have a guy like you go to all that trouble to make
us all laugh.
I'm older than 22 now so pulling one over on me may
be tougher now but I sure would love if you would try.
I love you, pal. Shine on like the star you are and
will always be.
