Sunday, July 19, 2020

“Dr. Talk, Roku Roundup”



c. 2020 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(7-20)




Long after dark.

For this writer, the appeal of hours spent awake after sunset has often been a subject worthy of analysis in print. Since childhood, this habit of a ‘night owl’ has been both familiar and conducive to inspiring creative projects. A recent example appeared as I sat in my living room on a weekend morning. The clock was approaching 4:00 a.m. and I had finished two cups of coffee.

After watching an episode of ‘1PugLife’ from Canada, and playing a Phil Hendrie netcast on my iPhone, a lull of energy had me slumping in my chair. But as I scrolled through clips on YouTube, via my Roku streaming device, a familiar face appeared like a beacon shining through the darkness of fatigue and emptiness.

Jerry Springer.

The post was of his 1995 recording, ‘Dr. Talk.’ I remembered buying the album at some point. An act that was predictable for a record collector with a tilt toward such bits of disposable pop-culture.

With a click of the remote, I slipped backward in time to that moment of lyrical abandon:

You… say.. things...
Aren’t going well
You’re halfway to hell
You’ve lost everything that counts
Gone is your spouse
And maybe the house
All you haven’t lost are pounds
The kids are bawling
Creditors calling
When did life become this curse?
The car won’t run
Your days seem done
Could things ever get any worse?
But then there’s Oprah, Phil, and Sally
And Jerry Springer too
A little dose of a talk show host
You won’t seem quite as blue
Cause if that’s the world or part of it
Where madams are sometimes sirs
You’ll quit complaining, things could be worse
Those calamities could be yours.”

The descent of Springer from a legitimate thinker, political aide, mayor, television commentator, and interviewer – to the garbage heap of ‘Trash TV’ has been documented by many. But this artifact from the studio floor, a disc suited to be on the shelf next to ‘Morton Downey Jr. Sings’ provided an extra wrinkle to his legacy.

Versions of ‘Hey Mr. Tambourine Man’ and ‘Talk Back Trembling Lips’ stretched the limits of audio credulity. But the title track was something more insightful. An anthem. Crafted perfectly to repeat on his show at dramatic moments when guests tipped the scales toward personal collapse and a complete surrender of inhibitions:

I… mean… that...
Stuff on there will raise your hair
You’ll do a double take
Like a pretty John with high heels on
Out looking for a date
Or that big, bald-headed woman
With a tattoo on her face
Who swears she was abducted by a man from outer space
Now I know your lover left you
With who you thought was your best friend
And the dog you taught to fetch a ball
Just bit you in your rear end
But remember that guy on Springer
Who cried and fought and swore
That last week he talked to Elvis
At a Memphis Walmart store
Well the dog bite…
It’ll heal
And the hurting
It’s just a cut
And the lover who left you
Well it’s best that he did
He’ll probably wind up on his butt
So give thanks for life
Even when it’s not the best
You see, there’s always worse…
You could be a talk show guest!”



A third cup of coffee helped focus my thoughts on the memory of ‘Dr. Talk.’ I recalled that Springer performed a version of the song in his movie ‘Ringmaster’ from 1998. Dressed in cowpoke duds and looking much like the sort of surreal figure that might have appeared on one of his shows:

But then there’s Oprah, Phil, and Sally
And Jerry Springer too
A little dose of a talk show host
You won’t seem quite as blue
Cause if that’s the world or part of it
Where madams are sometimes sirs
You’ll quit complaining, things could be worse
Those calamities could be yours.”

Also included on YouTube was a video of Springer performing the song in a club. Likely a promotional offering to tout the song when it was released. I hadn’t seen it before.

In yonder days, my affection for episodes of Jerry Springer’s program had caused some marital difficulty in the household. My wife shuddered each time his opening theme was played on-air. When I bought a figure of the TV host through ebay, she forbade me from displaying it in our living room. Jerry’s likeness was banished to my home office. Particularly after working long hours, I liked to relax on our couch and play old VHS tapes of his most notable altercations. I would enjoy a cold brew and cheer for each fight like a boxing match.

My favorite collection was a volume of ‘Jerry Springer Too Hot For TV.’ She hated the tape passionately.

Eventually, my marriage dissolved and the Springer tape disappeared. I had corresponded with him, via postal mail, and he sent a glossy photo as a keepsake. But that also vanished in the mess of my personal archives. I remembered suggesting that he make a tour of trailer-park communities, across America. And that he embark on a tour of France, something I reckoned would spotlight the contrast between our cultures. Theirs, as a nation of great history and art. Ours, as a land of tin and plastic, dispensed for quick commercial gain.

My random encounter on the Roku brought everything back into focus. Once again, ‘Dr. Talk’ had spoken.

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