That’s right, Slim Whitman! You’ll never believe it, but he helped me fix a flat tire on the highway this afternoon.
Actually…you shouldn’t believe it, because it’s not true. What IS true, however, is that I was sitting here thinking that I really needed to post something new on the VTB…but had no ideas and even less motivation. So I assumed the lotus position and dropped a hook into the deepest recesses of that surreal part of my brain. You know…the one with the Latin name.
I felt a nibble on the hook, gave it a sharp tug, reeled it in and found Slim wiggling on the end of the line.
So…who is Slim Whitman? He’s a country singer that yodels.
And why, you may be wondering, has a yodelling country singer been honored with a star on my Subconscious Walk of Fame? It’s because the commercial for Slim’s greatest hits album aired on late night TV every seven minutes during the two years that I was in Junior High School.
If you’ve seen the commercial, it’s impossible to forget. Slim stands in front a barn dressed as a matador…or something. The barn isn’t real. It’s obviously just a low-budget prop on TV studio sound stage. He begins yodelling, and a voiceover begins.
“This country superstar has sold more records than Elvis or The Beatles.”
That claim always struck me as a bit suspect, since I couldn’t find a single person who had heard of Slim before those TV commercials began airing.
Anyway…Slim continued yodelling through a medley of his hits as the commercial proceeded. And at one point, Slim’s face appeared in a box at the lower corner of the screen…and the man himself spoke!
“All the songs on this album have touched my heart. I hope they touch your heart, too.”
Viewers were then informed that a check or money order would be required. Sorry, but no C.O.D.’s.
Slim quickly became a hot topic amongst my classmates and I. Not because we wanted to buy his album. Heavens no! But simply because his commercial was so damn kitchilicious.
“Slim rocks!” Began appearing on chalkboards and bathroom walls.
Thirteen year old boys began asking thirteen year old girls if they could, “Touch your heart, too.”
If our pre-prubescent bodies could muster the testosterone, I’m sure we all would’ve grown pencil-moustaches.
Think I’m nuts? Well then…go find yourself an American guy who is more or less my age (39) and say the words, “Slim Whitman.” Then step back and gauge his reaction.
Whatever it is, I’ll betcha it involves a yodel.
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