When the Lawrence Welk Show was on prime-time telly, I don’t think we missed a show. Mom and Dad would sit in their recliners, and brother Ben and I would throw our sleeping bags in front of the t.v. to watch. It was one of my favorite programs. The music was beautiful, as were the ladies’ dresses. My Papa and Gramma watched it, too, and sometimes Gramma and I would discuss the show when we got together. This was the beginning of my music literacy. I didn’t understand why my school friends thought it was a bore.
Note: I also learned to recognize many classical pieces from watching Looney Tunes, but that’s a different story altogether.
When I was nine years old, my parents took us to see a live performance in Jackson, Mississippi. I wore a pink dress, embellished with satin ribbons, that Mom made me. I was in music heaven. I really liked the Welk rendition of “Chattanooga Choo-choo,” sung by the ladies.
At intermission, Mom herded me through the crowd to get Mr. Welk’s autograph. When I got to him, I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I finally managed to give him a big hug and say, “We watch you every night.” I could have kicked myself. Lawrence Welk didn’t come on every night.
Now when Lawrence Welk comes on PBS, I sigh in happy reminisce, “Ohhhhh, Lawrence Welk!”
Lefty (my darling left-handed, left-brained hubby) isn’t really into the show, but he has tolerated it on my behalf.
I’m posting some of the pictures, below. The little blonde hugging Mr. Welk is me, holding up my newly autographed program. The big picture is from the back of my program that I got Mr. Welk to sign.