by Michael B. Wright
April showers bring May flowers, but that’s not what comes to mind when I think of April. I think of “April Love.” (Not the emotion or the experience, but the song by Pat Boone.)
Growing up in the 50s when “rock ’n’ roll” was coming to the fore, a dividing point was reached where one had to make a choice between two individuals. The top two contenders for the most popular male vocalist were Elvis Presley and Pat Boone.
Elvis, he of the upturned collar, long hair with sideburns and a perpetual sneer, vs. clean-cut Pat, a devout Christian whose scruples prohibited his kissing his female co-star Shirley Jones in the movie “April Love” (with the theme song of the same name).
The first Elvis song I heard was “Heartbreak Hotel” on a jukebox (a nickel per play, 6 for a quarter). I had to leave the table where my family was eating to find out who was singing. As I stood at the Wurlitzer. I distinctly remember saying “Elvis! What kind of name is THAT?”
My record collection included both their recordings. Pat recorded a squeaky-clean version of Little Richard’s “Tutti-Frutti” while Elvis’ version was more raucous and hard driving. I liked both.
Several years ago, the mother of a friend invited The Joy of My Life and me to the grand opening of a high-end retirement community in central Florida, the featured guest being one Pat Boone.
We strolled around for quite a while exploring the venue as we filled ourselves with hors d’oeuvres and adult beverages. Pat eventually arrived by himself, no entourage (ooh, French word #2), sang a song or after which a few of us joined a long queue (#3) for a meet-and-greet with Pat.
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As we shook hands, I told him, “You got me in a lot of trouble back in the day.”
“How did I do that?” he smiled.
“Well, whenever one of us guys would get a pair of white buck shoes, a cluster of giggly, flirtatious girls would get ‘up close and personal’ and begin stomping on and twisting their shoes on our brand-new bucks.”
“And then,” Pat responded, “you had to get out the little cloth powder bag to clean them up.”
“Yes!” I agreed, “and follow that with the little special brush if they were real badly scuffed!”
We talked a little more, he posed for pictures and then excused himself before heading back home to Beverly Hills shortly afterwards. Currently Pat is still alive and well at 91 years old. No longer performing these days, he hosts a weekly radio show on Sirius FM.
If you have any white buck or blue suede shoe tales to share, contact Mike at micwrighthamo@gmail.com.
