unbroken chain

Andy Warhol once said: "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes." Well, this past Thursday morning, I overstayed my allotted time by a half hour.

Some time ago, my favorite Philadelphia radio station began a new feature on their morning drive-time show. Joining such popular features as Wednesday afternoon's "Worst Song in the World" and "The Fab Four," a four-song block of songs from the Beatles catalog, a long-time staple of the afternoon broadcast, the morning show introduced a fun little concept called "The Name Chain Game." The Thursday morning feature entails a little clever thinking on the part of listeners who plan to submit a contender for on-air play. The rules are actually pretty simple. It's a string of songs whose artists are connected by name. The last word (or part of a word) begins the first word (or part of a word) of the next song's performer. This continues for as long as you can. For example, an early submission in the games initial stages ran as follows: "Etta James" followed by "James Gang" followed by "Gang of Four" followed by "The Four Freshmen" followed by "Men at Work" followed by "Work Drugs." Five songs were played in a row and at the end the enthused host of the show reading the conglomeration as "Etta James Gang of Four FreshMen at Work Drugs." She chuckled. The morning news guy chuckled and the morning moved on. This little experiment gathered steam and strings of songs or "chains," if you will, averaged about four to five songs. On the rare occasion, some extended to six or seven. Additional rules allowed for dropping "the" from a band's name. Syllable pronunciation and homophones are permitted, in the case of a recent submission that included Donald Fagen followed by Against Me. 

Now that you've been properly intrigued and have subconsciously begun forming your own chains, let me tell you where Josh Pincus and my ever-so-brief fulfillment of Andy Warhol's prophecy fits into this. 

These go to 11.

Way back in January of this year, I sent an email to the morning show with my entry for the Name Chain Game. Keeping in Josh Pincus fashion to buck convention, my entry included eleven performers. Yep. Eleven. These were not obscure artists. These were performers who I had heard previously in the eclectic mix that is the loose playlist of my favorite radio station. I clicked "SEND" on my email and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And forgot about it. I should mention that my son is employed by my favorite radio station and is pretty friendly with the morning show host. I should also mention that that connection was in no way influential in the decision of whether or not my submission was played... or even considered. As a matter of fact, my son dismissed my submission, citing its cumbersome length not being conducive to the tight scheduling of a radio show. Hey.... what do I know about programming a radio show? I know about listening to a radio show. I've been doing that for most of my life. But, programming? I shrugged my shoulders at my son's viewpoint and secretly hoped to one day hear my Name Chain Game opus.

To my surprise, a few days ago, I got an email from the morning show host. She told me that she'd be tackling my monster submission this week. I made sure I was listening. The game usually kicks off at 8:20 AM on Thursday morning, but, as she explained, due to its unusual length, she'd be starting things just ahead of the scheduled news break. With a proper introduction and/or warning, the opening strains of "Playing in the Band" by the good old Grateful Dead got the whole affair started at 8:13.  At the song's conclusion, a short time out was taken for a quick news brief. The marathon restarted at 8:23 with "I Feel Love (Every Million Miles" by Jack White's recent supergroup Dead Weather. A little before 9 o'clock, the whole shebang came to a conclusion with the fade out of "Standing in the Shadows of Love" by The Four Tops. (How did I arrive here? I'll tell you in a minute.) And that was it. My name was announced and I was thanked. And the show moved on with an unrelated song by funkster Warren G.

Twitter alighted with a few congratulatory tweets and "likes" on the morning show's acknowledgment of the list of artists featured on this week's Name Chain Game. I got a few "likes" myself from a few followers who are local and listen to the station as well.

So, what was my chain? Well, like I said, it started off with The Grateful Dead and went like this...

Grateful Dead 

Dead Weather 

Weather Report 

Portugal the Man 

Man or Astroman? 

Man Man 

Manfred Mann 

Manhattan Transfer 

First Class 

Classics IV

Four Tops

I even made a few suggestions for songs, including First Class's one and only hit "Beach Baby," the sunny Beach Boys homage by an unlikely group of British studio musicians and one of three choices by Classics IV, the smooth, sophisticated jazz/rock ensemble that became the basis for the Atlanta Rhythm Section. (Their 1968 hit "Traces" was selected for play.)

And that was it. By 9 o'clock, my moment in the spotlight was over. As they say, "Fame is fleeting." That certainly is true. If this actually qualifies as "fame."

I don't think it does. But it was fun.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com