Greatest American Hero

One of my well remembered TV series from the early '80s was Greatest American Hero (1981-1983), a quirky super hero series which featured an unlikely and fumbling everyday guy as its protagonist. I think what made the series so likable was the sense that the "hero" was someone who never even sought the role, a well meaning person who had hero status thrust upon him and tried to deal with it as best as he could. Neither the hero nor the show took themselves too seriously.

William Katt starred as the unlikely hero, Ralph Hinkley, a schoolteacher assigned to a special education class. Connie Selleca stars as Pam Davidson, an attorney who handled Hinkleys divorce, but soon becomes his love interest in the show. Ralph's last name was changed to "Hanley" after an assassin whose last name was Hinkley attempted to kill President Reagan in March of 1981. 

The great Robert Culp played FBI agent Bill Maxwell, who somehow linked up with Ralph and Pam, and often provided the more hard-edged strategic mindset which the others lacked.

Together, the disparate trio repeatedly found themselves batting bad guys after an unexpected encounter gave Ralph his super powers.

During an trek in the desert, Ralph and Bill had a close encounter with space aliens. (I always thought the spaceship was cool.)

The aliens beamed down a special suit which only Ralph could use, and which was the source of his powers, which included such typical super hero abilities as flight, invisibility, strength and remote viewing.

But the mild mannered Ralph proved to be an uneasy superhero, which made him all the more likable in the role. More problematic was the fact that they lost the manual provided with the suit which showed how to properly use it. So, Ralph, with the help of Bill and Pam, had to learn how to use it by trial and error, with often funny results. Ralph's haphazard effort at flying was a frequent feature of the show..

Heres the intro, courtesy of RetroJunk.com.

The theme song, written by Mike Post and Stephen Geyer and sung by Joey Scarbury, became a hit in 1981. I remember hearing it frequently on the radio back then.

 I was 11 years old that year, when the show premiered. Now, looking back, I see both the song and the TV show as reflective of that era. When the show premiered in 1981, the United States was just recovering from a rough period where hostages were held for over a year in Iran, the Soviets invaded Afghanistan, and the economy was in a bad state. Although the country was not yet out of the woods, by any means, there was the uneasy glimmer of hope and optimism. I think the portrayal of Ralph's uneasy hero status, and the song about being surprised at unexpected success, seemed to echo this mood.

Repost: Live Aid 1985

Today is the anniversary of the gigantic 1985 concert, Live Aid. I'm re-posting a piece originally appearing on this blog on July 6, 2012. 

On July 13, 1985, one of the most amazing concerts ever occurred, and became one of the defining moment of those of us who grew up in the 1980s. It was called Live Aid, and it was the culmination of an effort by the musical community in the mid '80s to bring attention to the victims of a devastating African famine. While the cause was good, it also served the purpose of bringing together an incredible collection of musicians for one incredible day of music.

On of the prime inspirations of the effort was Bob Geldof, a musician with the group the Boomtown Rats. His guidance and inspiration brought together musicians in support of the cause of African famine victims first in the British effort known as Band Aid (and their song "Do They Know Its Christmas?"), which was shortly followed by USA for Africa (and their song "We Are The World.").  Many other efforts followed, culminating in the extravaganza known as Live Aid.

Live Aid occurred at two locations simultaneously: at JFK stadium in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in the United States, and in Wembly Stadium in London, in the UK. But even more impressively, it was broadcast worldwide through various media, and the era of MTV brought forth a worldwide concert that drew an enormous audience. The concert featured many remarkable performances from a great variety of musicians.

Heres the schedule of musicians who participated in Live Aid:

In London's Wembly Stadium:

7 am: Bob Geldolf opens Live Aid; Status Quo; Style Council; Boomtown Rats with Adam Ant.

8 am: Adam Ant; Ultravox; Spandau Ballet.

9 am: Elvis Costello; Nik Kershaw with Billy Conally; Sade.

10 am: Phil Collins with Julian Lennon; Sting with Howard Jones.

11 am: Bryan Ferry; Paul Young with Alison Moyet. 

12:30 pm: U2.

1 pm: Dire Straits; Queen.

2 pm: David Bowie.

3 pm: The Who; Elton John.

4 pm: Wham! ; Paul McCartney.

In Philadelphia's JFK stadium:

9 am: Joan Baez; The Hooters; The Four Tops; Billy Ocean.

10 am: Black Sabbath with Ozzy Osbourne; Run-DMC; Rick Springfield; REO Speedwagon.

11 am: Crosby, Stills, Nash; Judas Priest.

12 pm: Bryan Adams; The Beach Boys.

1 pm: George Thorogood; Queens Performance from London.

2 pm: Music video featuring David Bowie and Mick Jagger; Simple Minds; The Pretenders.

3 pm: Santana with Pat Metheny; Ashford and Simpson with Teddy Pendergrass.

4:30 pm: Madonna; Rod Stewart. 5 pm: Tom Petty; Kenny Loggins; The Cars.

6 pm: Neil Young; Power Station. 7 pm: Thompson Twins; Eric Clapton.

8 pm: Phil Collins with Robert Plant and Jimmy Page; Duran Duran.

9 pm: Patti LaBelle; Daryll Hall and John Oats with Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin.

10 pm: Mick Jagger; Jagger with Tina Turner; Bob Dylan.

Trivia: The Live Aid Concerts were held on July 13, 1985, in London and Philadelphia. Phil Collins was able to play both. He played London in the morning, and then took the Concorde to Philadelphia to play the evening there. 

Trivia: In London, a traffic light was set up just offstage to keep the performers within their allotted time. The traffic light would signal green when the performer had just just five minutes left to play, then yellow when two minutes were left, and red when it was time to leave. The performers kept to their time limits so well that the concert was often running as much as 15 minutes ahead of schedule. 

And here's another post with some more Live Aid  memories.

Ain't That America

Here's my belated Fourth of July post.

John Cougar Mellencamp was one of my fave rock musicians back in the '80s. I always appreciated his sense of straightforwardness and honesty in his music.  His 1984 song "Pink Houses" is a wonderful tribute to America, both majestic and hopeful, yet also with a touch of melancholy.

Happy Birthday (belatedly) America, to all my readers in the U.S..

An '80s Song With A Story

Howard Jones' "No One Is To Blame" (1985)

This song has a story. When I was in high school, I was a nonconformist and a bit of a loner. I had my friends, all fellow nonconformists, and we sometimes went out together and did our own individualistic thing. But I tended to avoid school dances and events. I just didn't fit in so well, and I felt better being away from there, and either by myself doing my own thing, or being with my oddball friends enjoying ourselves in our own oddball way.

On one rare occasion, I went to this high school dance just for the heck of it, just to see if I could actually get some enjoyment out of it. I spent my brief time there wandering around, not fitting in. I remember I met a friend I knew, a semi-outsider himself, and we chatted briefly. After wandering around a little more, I just decided to leave. I got in my car, and turned on the radio, and as I was pulling out of the school parking lot, this song came on. It just melded perfectly with the way I felt, and I remember it comforted me just to have this song that someone wrote that so perfectly expressed my mood. Music can be comforting like that, especially during your teen years.

But there's also the positive side. "Things Can Only Get Better," (1985) also by Howard Jones. I remember this song as well, and its sentiments are just as central to my teen years as the one above.

A thousand skeptic hands wont keep us from the things we planned

This was a common feeling I had growing up in the '80s: that the future could be bright, and that my response to adversity was to keep looking forward.

Howard Jones, a songwriter for all seasons.

Bill Cosby: America's '80s Dad

For Father's Day, how about a visit with the person who served, within television at least, as America's Dad back during the '80s, Bill Cobsy. The Cosby Show topped the ratings with Cosby playing the head of the Huxtable household. The character of Cliff Huxtable was that of a successful, affluent doctor living with his large family in a nicely furnished home. 

Cosby's amiable and fatherly personality could be seen in another of his very frequent appearances during the '80s, as pitchman for Jello Pudding. 

Cosby's appealing personality could not save the 1985 introduction of a new coke formula, dubbed "New Coke," and almost universally rejected as not "the real thing." But Cosby gives it the old college try here, and you can see his persuasive skills in full force through his facial expressions and charisma. 

Best wishes to all fathers on Father's Day!

Repost: Kink's "Come Dancing"

Here's a re-post of a previous post, which is also sort-of a follow up to my last post on the great musical year of 1983. One of the biggest happenings of 1983 was the "Second British Invasion" of bands, which I have written about frequently on this blog.  This was the era of Culture Club, Duran Duran, Eurythmics, and so many others. One of the more interesting occurrences of the Second British Invasion was the re-emergence of the great '60s band, The Kinks, on American airwaves with their wonderful song "Come Dancing." This post was originally presented on November 9, 2011.

 

The Kinks first became well known during the first British Invasion of music groups during the 1964-1965 era, with hits such as "You Really Got Me," and "All Day and All of the Night," and "Tired of Waiting for You."  In 1970, they again hit on both sides of the Atlantic, with "Lola."  Although the Kinks continued to make music, and continued their popularity in the U.K., they largely disappeared from the U.S. charts during the '70s.

Then in 1983, after an absence of many years, the Kinks joined in the Second British Invasion of the U.S. music charts, and had a big hit with a wonderful song called "Come Dancing." "Come Dancing" was a sentimental gem of a song which tenderly recalled times past. According to Wikipedia:

 

 The song is a nostalgic look back at childhood memories of its writer: the Kinks' frontman Ray Davies, remembering his older sister going on dates to the local Palais dance hall where big bands would play. The lyrics tell how the Palais has been demolished and his sister now has her own daughters who are going on dates.

"Come Dancing" is a tribute to Davies' sister Rene who bought him his first guitar, with the song's lyrics affording Davies' sister a happy life denied her in reality. Living in Canada with her (reportedly abusive) husband, the 31-year-old Rene was visiting her parental home in Fortis Green at the time of Ray Davies' thirteenth birthday — 21 June 1957 — on which she surprised him with a gift of the Spanish guitar he'd tried to persuade his parents to buy him. On the evening of the same day, Rene — who had a weak heart as a result of a childhood bout of rheumatic fever — suffered a fatal heart attack while dancing at the Lyceum ballroom.

Its a sweet song, and a great song for a comeback by the Kinks onto the American airwaves.

Flashbacks to 1983

Surfing the net this past week, I came across some items about that monumental year in pop music, 1983. That year has always been a favorite of mine, and considering the happenings occurring in the music scene that year, it has claim to being one of the most eventful years in rock and pop history. It was, after all, the year of Thriller, of the Second British Invasion, and the year when MTV surged forward as a cutting edge music medium.

This article in the Toledo Free Press gives us a flashback to a memory from that era regarding one of the most popular groups of the decade The Police, and their great 1983 album, Synchronicity:

At 17, I was at the zenith of my love for record collecting, 

but I would walk past the new releases to check the torn-out 

Billboard pages tacked over the singles bin. I had been raised 

on country-western music; other than my mom’s Beatles LPs, I 

did not know much about pop. During a swim party at a friend’s 

in the spring of 1979, I heard the slashing guitars and 

hysterical pleadings of “Roxanne,” and I never again settled 

for steel guitars and Nashville slickness. I followed 

The Police through their exponentially successful rise of 

“Message in a Bottle,” “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” and 

“Every Little Thing She Does is Magic.” 

When “Every Breath You Take” exploded in the summer of 1983, I 

followed its chart progress like a sports fan rooting for a 

team’s pennant chase. I still remember the numbers: A debut at 

No. 36, a jump to No. 24, a leap to No. 12, a move to No. 5, 

then an eight-week run at No. 1 that, as a longtime fan 

of the band, made me feel as triumphant as if I had 

written the song myself.

No song dominates the memory like a summer song, and to                          this day, hearing the pistol-shot opening of “Every Breath                         You Take” takes me back to the summer of 1983.

The '80s blog Rediscover the '80s, had a post recently about another 1983 group and album, Huey Lewis and The News' Sports. Here's some memories from that post:

Once I was able to save up and buy my own music 

in the mid-late 80s, I remember acquiring Sports on 

cassette. I loved it. I also remember it still being one I 

listened to in the car when I first learned how to drive in 

the early 90s. It's one of those albums that I never used 

the fast forward button on (maybe rewind.)  . . .

The music blog All Music encapsulates the spirit of 1983 this way:

If any year captured the heady rush of the early '80s, it was 1983, 

the year Michael Jackson's Thriller became a phenomenon and, not 

coincidentally, the year of MTV's prime. The cable network debuted two 

years earlier but '83 was when music videos took over, popping up on 

cable channels and network TV, and along with videos came a glorious 

period of hit singles by one-hit wonders, new invaders from 

Britain, and veterans who now mastered synths and drum machines, 

the latter inexplicably led by grizzled, hairy blues-rockers ZZ Top and 

the visionary jazz-fusion keyboardist Herbie Hancock. Underneath all 

this televised glitz were some major debuts: the first albums from 

Madonna, Metallica, R.E.M., and Hüsker Dü, and the first singles from 

the Smiths and Run-D.M.C. And there were the mammoth hits -- yes, 

Thriller, but also Def Leppard's Pyromania and the Police's Synchronicity, 

all giving us more than enough reason to love 1983.

Here's one of my own fave memories from 1983: