Hoping for an Encore Performance!

     Hey, look, I probably get as much of a kick out of seeing famous people as the average guy, but I take absolutely no interest in meeting celebrities just because they happen to qualify for the description. On the other hand, I really do like the stars I respect, especially if my admiration for them is rooted in what I call the "silver age" of television, and I'll admit that I'd probably step on my Yorkie to shake the hand of Peter Graves.
     I live in Danville, Kentucky, and when I learned that Johnny Crawford was coming to town, I knew I had to meet him and experience firsthand his current style of entertainment. Like Kurt Russell and Ron Howard, he was a child star who kept himself on the rails into adulthood, and he went forward to do an impressive range of cool things in his life as an artist, athlete, and entrepreneur. Most of all, he held true to his earliest passion--music.
     If my wife didn't fully appreciate how much I was looking forward to hearing Johnny's vintage dance band, it was because I tried my best to avoid behaving like a "groupie" beforehand, but I think she understood when I dug out one of my Dad's old bow ties and taught myself how to tie it. When we were finally "hosed down and gussied up," the two of us looked decent enough for the photo album. We hadn't had a nice picture taken for a while, so I was tickled when my sister and niece stopped by and agreed to document our night out. The extra time for pictures cost us the opportunity to pick out a choice table at the Pioneer Playhouse indoor theater, but I managed to discover an empty love seat off to the side, near the stage.
     It turned out to be a good spot to watch Crawford re-enact the period manners of a band leader from the 1920s and 1930s. We were treated to a superb group of musicians hired locally to become his vintage orchestra for the evening, including Miles Osland, Dave Henderson, and Rick Cook. Watching Crawford's seat-of-the-pants coordination was a delight, and the entire effect was a testament to the sheer professionalism of everyone on stage, especially Johnny himself. On top of that, the "CD Release Party" aspect had seemed to put the star of the show in a heightened mood, and his vocals and repartee at the microphone were thoroughly entertaining, not to mention his elegant body language. I think my mate would agree the only way it could have been more enjoyable is if I had spent less time with the bow tie and a bit more with remembering how to do the fox trot. Maybe next time; I hope he's invited back for an encore performance, and I wrote a letter to the local newspaper urging it. It pleased me to find out later that Johnny has posted an excerpt online.
     I've since learned just how far some of the other couples traveled to see Johnny perform in Kentucky, and I'm glad I didn't indulge his generosity of spirit too long after I introduced myself for a short chat. There were some huge JC aficionados there that evening, and he was clearly trying to make time for all of them. I can't imagine someone being more gracious with fans eager for a special moment. I was reminded of the warmth and gentle manners of Charlton Heston when I met him years ago in Lexington, and how we talked for a treasured minute about Chuck Connors. Now Heston is gone, too, but I'm certain Johnny will carry on this fine tradition of personal contact.
     Years ago, when I fell in love with Danville's Great American Brass Band Festival, I gained a new, profound regard for the quality of American band music from the mid nineteenth century to the era of the Great War. I also came to understand how much work it takes to resurrect all of the instrumentation to recreate an authentic period sound. This summer, Johnny Crawford shared with our community the same preservationist spirit, and it makes me think he is emerging as one of the country's most important historians of our popular music, salvaging lost orchestrations and discarded arrangements of favorite dance tunes from that unique period between two World Wars. As David McCullough reminds us, Americans from a different period of our history were less similar to us than we like to believe. They lived differently, and they thought differently. It was the age of radio. Everyone aspired to be a musician, if they didn't already sing or play an instrument. All popular music was music meant for dancing, and if people didn't go out to dance, they were probably as a motion picture to watch others dance. there was a spirit in America that keen observers such as David Gelernter have told us is all but lost.
     Well, perhaps so, but not if Johnny Crawford has anything to say about it!

John Dixon

(Click HERE to see Johnny's comment to John's letter to the local Danville newspaper.)