The song I selected for my "show biz" premier was the then popular Perry Como song, "Round and Round" which starts out "Find a wheel and it goes round and round", sort of unconscious hook to my love for racing. I remember walking out on that stage of highly polished oak floorboard with the spotlight shining on me. I remember I was incredibly nervous, for, you see, I was a shy little fifth grader. By the time I got to the second line of that song, the nerves were calm and I was enjoying every second in the spot light. When the show was over, all participants were called to the stage for the awards of first, second and third place. First prize was a pair of roller skates, which I remember. I don't remember the other prizes but I think second place was a silver dollar. Third place was called out. Not me. Second place was called and it WAS me. I was happy to be recognized but when the roller skates went to the girl in the American Flag outfit that did a ballet number to a song I don't remember, and probably didn't even know the name of at the time, I decided I would never, ever go to a ballet. Never have either.
The next time I went on stage as a singer, other than church choir, was at Disney World in January 2009. As we were entering the Hollywood Studios, we were met by a Disney Cast Member asking if any of us would like to audition for "The American Idol Experience". Ann talked me into it so I went for it. The audition experience was much more than expected. First the young guy who had contestants sing a few bars of a song of their choosing from which he would "pass" those he felt were worthy to the next level. The next level was another audition before a group of about six Disney folks. Those who passed that were moved on to an audition before the producer of the show, a one-on-one performance of a song selected by the producer. All of that took two to three hours. Finally, out of the several hundred who had auditioned, there were 25 of us ushered into a studio where we were informed of what we would be doing and what we would be going through. It was then that things got interesting.
First up, one of the Disney Studios Musical Directors gave all contestants a one-on-one voice lesson. Mine was a guy who could play the piano like I've never heard it done. Next, it was to Disney makeup where one of their makeup artist who did make up for performers at Disney would prepare us for the television camera. I shall never forget the transformation before me as I watched my lady work her magic on my elderly face. The results were unbelievable.
After that, we were all ushered into the theater where the event would take place. We were each walked out on stage, shown what it was like to be in front on the television cameras, and shown the location of each camera. After that, all 25 of us were asked to sing one verse of our intended performance. Mine was "It's a Wonderful World". We were all then seated to watch our performances on the big screen television in the "green room" which incidentally was not green. Then it was to the lounge to await our fate as to which three would be called to perform.
All 25 of us sat around and talked small talk, some nervous, some anxious, and some, like me a Disney nut, were just thrilled to have been on stage at a Disney venue. After about 45 minutes, a guy with a clipboard walked in and called out three names selected. My name was called second. There was a guy I would find out later was a nightclub performer in Nashville, and a 14-year-old girl with a beautiful voice. The three of us were ushered back into the studio and went through our full song, recorded so we could watch and critique our performance. That was fun.
When the show started, the Nashville nightclub singer went first. The young lady went second and both were really good. It was then my turn. I walked out onto that polished stage with the judges at a table to my left, spotlights and cameras everywhere, and a theater full of folks. The routine interview was fun as the judge taking the role of Simon Cowell had his remarks to make. When the lights went down and the music started, I was in a world of my own. I loved the song, loved what the lyrics had to say, and loved singing to a crowd like that.
When the voting was finished, the guy from Nashville won, and it was too close to call between the young lady and me, but it really didn't matter, I was thrilled beyond words to have been on stage at Disney World. On the way out of the theater exit for performers, the “Simon Cowell” Judge who told me, in front of my entire family, that he was shocked I didn’t win hands down and he encouraged me to keep up the singing. That made my day and actually was preferred to any trophy that may have been awarded. Of course, being Disney, he had to say that!!!!
Okay, this is a racing show. Why did I go through all that? Well, for two reasons actually. One reason is to show my friend Johnny that I am really good about talking about myself. He and I both know that is my favorite subject. The other has to do with research I am doing for the history series I am attempting here in the Forum section. Last week, when researching what happened with racing right after World War II, I was researching any and all history sites having to do with the late 1940s. It was on one of those sites that I discovered the number one song in the country on the day I was born was "Zip-pity-Doo-Dah" from the Disney Movie "Song of the South". I actually have that movie on DVD although it is not, and has not for years, been available in the U.S. I forgot where I bought it but it was probably a flea market somewhere because it is obviously an after-market copy of the 1946 film.
I remember seeing that movie when I was a kid before it was determined to be non-politically correct, but I have never forgotten the words to that song. The words have always stuck with me because of the positive thoughts like "My oh my, what a wonderful day". It was after reading about the reasoning for removing that movie from the Disney Movie availability list that my little mind that is never constrained to one thing, wondered what song is really "The Song of the South".
Growing up in the 50s in South Carolina, we lived on a dirt road (actually red clay) until I was about 7 years old. When it rained, it was so much fun to walk in the red clay mess made by the rain and feel that slickness ooze up between your toes. My elementary school was a block and a half down the road and my church was a block up the road. My friends were all over the neighborhood. We all rode bikes together and went swimming in Houston's pond when we weren't supposed to, and played games with a neighbor down the road by "stealing" a watermelon or two a day to split open and eat. That part of the song of the South was the splashing water while swimming and the sound of the double-barreled shot-gun blast fired into the air when Mr. B. saw us in his watermelon field.
Of course, for me, part of the music of the south was the hymns we sang in church each Sunday. "The Old Rugged Cross", “The Church in the Wildwood” and "How Great Thou Art". The South, unlike any other section of the country, was the "Bible Belt". Church music was, and still is to some extent, part of the song of the South.
Laughter of school kids was a huge part of the song of the South. Not ever having lived anywhere else growing up, I don't know if school kids everywhere found almost everything funny and laughable, except maybe math class. Laughter resonated throughout school every day. Yet we learned.
Foods we eat in the South are not widely known outside our world. Ever try to get a Yankee to eat Okra? Oh, and on my one trip to Pocono, Pennsylvania about 1975, we stopped at a little Mom and Pop diner on the way to the track for breakfast. I'll never forget the look on the waitress' face when I asked for "grits". She asked me what a "grit" was. I could see right then that it was waffles or nothing for breakfast.
In the early 50s, the song of the South, for me, became the sound of racing engines coming to life at the sound of "Gentlemen, start your engines" although it may have been arguable as to how many could have actually started their engines if they had to prove they were gentlemen! Then the volume of the sound increased as cars took the green flag and raced toward a finish 100 miles, or 500 miles away.
The song of the South became, for some, Robert Mitchum's rendition of "The Ballard of Thunder Road", another song I once knew every word and note. That song combined, for many, and me the connection between moonshine and stock car racing. HBO Canada did a "Sports on Fire" special about the connection of moonshine and stock car racing. That episode is entitled "Born on the Bottle". In that episode, Bill Blair, Jr. makes the statement, although not quoting directly here, that "the south didn't like to be told what to do", even if it was the Federal Government doing the telling. Thus, the moonshine fueled the birth of stock car racing in the South. Another song of the South.
While there were tracks all over the country, it was in the Southeastern U.S., especially the Carolinas, Georgia, Tennessee, and Virginia, where stock car racing flourished. The sound of the racing engines, first the flat heads and later the small block V-8s became the song of the South for so many of us. Remember the Darlington races from back in the day? After the National Anthem and the command to start engines, the speakers around the track played a spirited version of "Dixie” as the cars took the parade laps. A song, which is now so politically incorrect to mention I'm almost afraid to write the word.
The Song of the South for a race fan is a racing engine at full speed. The Song of the South for a race fan is the sound of thousands cheering on their favorites on the track. The Song of the South is the conversations shared between those of us who love the sport so much. The Song of the South for a race fan is always about the next race. Once the checkers drop on the event one week, we were looking forward to next week and what may happen then.
For me, I guess, all my life, my song of the South has always been "Zip-pity-Doo-Dah". After all, "My oh my what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine headed my way". Mr. Blue Bird may not actually be on my shoulder as it was on Uncle Remus, but sometimes it feels like it.
I would have told you my Elvis stories but Jeff has forbidden those words to ever be spoken in any RacersReunion event. Someday I may tell you about Olivia Newton-John.
