Editor's Log Musings on Polka
Polkadate: January, 2019. The International Polka Association designated this month as National Polka Month to draw attention and promote this “music of happiness”. But what do you actually know about Polka. In his wunnerful book “A Passion for Polka” Victor Greene (deceased) appears to be the only man to try and tackle the issue of Polka across the U.S. and publish it. Mr. Greene was a professor at the University of Wisconsin, an accordion player, and thorough researcher. While the book is an academic study of the polka experience in America, he is indebted to the grass roots enthusiasts and musicians he encountered while on his quest. Most of the following column, which will focus on his chapter on Texas Polka, are paraphrased excerpts and theories put forth in his book. Comments in italics are the editor's.
It helps to clarify terms. “Polka” is a generic term thrown around to designate “more than just a type of recreational music; it is also one of a group of many traditional dance elements, in what should be known as the ‘old time’ ethnic music tradition.” With one exception, research has shown that the word "polka" was never used in the 1920s through the 1950s to describe the style of music the Baca, Patek, Lichnovsky, etc. Orchestras played. It was called Old Time, at least in the advertisements. Mr. Greene suggests that “polka music” or “polka style” should be used when describing polkas (the dance), laendlers, oberiks, schottisches, waltzes, and marches.
While polka music was lurking in small communities from Minnesota to Texas, it received no national attention until 1938 when the Andrews Sisters (Greek-Norwegian descent) recorded a Yiddish (Central European Jewish dialect) polka which became a hit across the nation. This was the Sisters second recording and kicked off their career. Their managers decided to try another polka beat, Beer Barrel Polka, which blew the tap out of the keg in 1939 and suddenly polka music became cool.
Their version retains only the polka beat and the lyrics, the music of the song is played mostly on a high-pitched tinkly piano (kinda honky tonk) and a xylophone (?), and a very gentle bass line, very homogenized; their vocals of course are wunnerful as that is the purpose of the recording.
They continued recording all types of music, but yearly they returned to “polkas,” i.e., Pennsylvania Polka and the Strip Polka. Even the old polka master Bing Crosby joined in (ahem). Dozens of other musicians jumped on board the polka money train, despite never hearing authentic polka music.
POLKA PURISTS
Purists, now-a-days, comment that there are no longer any polka music bands left , which is true, but the majority of them playing 100% polka music probably disappeared in the very early 1900s. The shrinking number of devotees and the need for bookings have forced bands to resort to a more generalized set list that reflects the population change. Country and rock have inched their way into polka music by the need to appeal to a larger audience to draw a crowd.
Recently, at the largest gathering in Texas of folks to celebrate a certain cultural heritage, the editor heard the song La Bamba performed at least four times in one day. The editor is fairly sure it wasn’t a Hispanic festival he was attending. But then again, Germans settled in the late 1800s in Veracruz, which happens to be where LaBamba originated. Who knows?
In Texas, it appears that culturally specific music maintained its identity longer than in other regions of the U.S. By 1900 Texas had 190,000 German speakers (both foreign and local born) and, and by 1910, 12,000 Czech speakers. Other regions of the U.S. had similar immigration figures; the difference being the northern settlers focused on cities like Chicago and Cleveland; while the Texas immigrants took to the wide open, isolated lands of North Central and Central Texas and the Hill Country.
Thusly, the new Texians were able to “isolate” (not intentionally) themselves It has overshadowed his other astounding accomplishments in his pre-Hee Haw and post-Hee Haw life.
Roy Clark’s magical life began in 1933 in a town that no longer exists - Meherrin, Virginia. In the irony of life, his childhood wardrobe consisted of a pair of bib overalls and one pair of shoes. Forty something years later he would be pulling down big bucks while wearing bib overalls. Roy was blessed with having a father who played guitar in a squaredance band (which were all the rage), so as Roy put it: “I first heard music notes as my father tuned his guitar, while I was still in my crib, except we were too poor to even own a crib.” Music was always in the house. Roy’s father was proficient on string instruments and could have been a professional, had it not been that he had a family to support.
Roy’s father found work in Washington, D.C. and the family moved to the multicultural atmosphere of the nation’s capital. Accompanying his father to his square dance and other gigs, Roy sat mesmerized by the sounds that the band was emitting and the dancers' enjoyment of the moment. His extended family were musically accomplished and there was no shortage of instruments. His mother, who played piano, despite not having one, bought an accordion for his sister to learn. She spent many hours trying to learn. One day Roy picked it up and by the end of that day had figured out how to play the Tennessee Waltz, prompting her to give it up. Roy is the poster boy for natural music abilities; by his early teens he had mastered the piano, accordion, trumpet, drums, and several stringed instruments. He found that one instrument sound led to another sound that he had to explore. As a child, he thought that only his father and uncles knew how to make music. Then, his dad bought a radio, and the Clark household was filled with other people making music. Little Roy wondered if they were his uncles also.
MUSIC FOR THE HEART
One of the most important things his father taught him was: “Don’t shut your ear off, until you see if the music reached your heart.” At the age of 10, Roy's father began taking him to hear symphonies, from which the quantity of instruments and intricacies of the classical music really opened his eyes. At home, Roy was fooling around with a banjo of his father’s. A neighbor brought over a $17 Sears & Roebuck archtop six-string guitar; the moment he strummed all six strings, he said to himself: “Hey, there is something here, I have to learn how to play this.”
Santa Claus was good to Roy and managed to get a Sears guitar down the chimney along with a lesson book. He practiced daily till his fingers bled. If he was stumped on how to play a chord, his father would show him. Within two weeks, he played with his father’s dance band, the first of many thousands of nights of making people happy. In high school, his first music class, the teacher said that guitars were not real instruments. This was certainly news to a 16-year-old who had been getting paid weekly to play guitar and even been on television with his father, billed as Roy Clark and Dad, which embarrassed him.
As a young teenager he was having growing pains dealing with another boyhood desire: sports. He was very athletic and played as much as he could. He wanted to be a world-champion boxer and would sneak off to gyms and learn boxing. Roy quickly gave up boxing after a fight with a bruiser, who really wanted to be a world champ. He was also adept at playing baseball and wanted to play in the big leagues. He stuck with playing music, however in his heart he knew he could have been a pro baseball player.
In school, Roy was the class clown, because with humor he could get away with saying things other kids could not. This ability would serve him well in his upcoming career and he liked the feeling of making people laugh.
Roy’s playful and youthful attitude had him in demand as a squaredance performer. Roy, with an accordion player and vocalist, had been playing square dances and no-name clubs in the DC area and at the ripe of age of 15 he added radio show host to his teenage resume.
In 1949, a concert promoter friend of his contacted Roy. Hank Williams was going to do a short tour, and they needed a squaredance opening act, and his friend recommended him. Roy got a two-week leave from school, so at the age of 16 Roy did a two-week tour opening for Hank Williams. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall in the principal’s office, “You want two weeks off from school for what???” Ironically, the promoter running the tour was Grandpa Jones, whom Roy would later share the stage with on Hee Haw.
Roy was soon playing five or more nights a week, and barely making it in school. At the age of 17, he was walking to school, and decided that he was ready to take on the world, turned around and went home. This didn’t go over well with his parents, but money was tight and he was doing more than his share supporting the family.
He was now “free” to play music, which was mostly Hank Williams, Red Foley, and other Hillbilly music, as the term Country Music wasn’t being used yet. In 1950, he won a banjo contest, first prize being $500 and a spot on the Grand Ole Opry. He bought a guitar, but this plum chance to play on the Opry, scared him. Not the idea of playing, but the idea of leaving the DC area for any amount of time. Well, he took a bus towards Nashville (somewhere he switched to the wrong bus and ended up in Kentucky), the Opry people picked him up in a car. Two of its passengers were the Opry stars, Lonzo and Oscar. Roy was star-struck sitting in the same vehicle with guys he had been listening to for years. One thing seemed wrong, they were driving away from Nashville and didn’t stop until they got to Iowa. It turned out that the prize was performing on a two-week, Opry road show touring Iowa to Texas and not on the famous radio show broadcast from the Ryman Auditorium. He was billed (at the bottom) as “Extra Added Attraction: Musical Wizard Roy Clark.” After the tour, Roy stayed in Nashville, doing daily chores for an Opry executive, and was finally allowed on the famous stage for several shows backing up Lonzo and Oscar. Welcome to the big leagues of music.
Roy returned from Nashville to the DC clubs, where he was now a star among fellow musicians. Roy slipped back into the club scene, albeit at more upscale clubs for several years, night after night, working on his lightning fast guitar picking. It was during this period that he began working on the comedy side of his performance. Whenever he was paired with a guitarist who he thought was better, Roy would clown around to even up the show. Another reason is that silence on stage scared Roy, something always had to be happening, so he improvised corny jokes and funny physical moves (eye rolling, dancing, silly grins) to keep the crowd entertained, which in his mind was why people bought tickets.
Recently, a musician analyzed Roy’s performance for Jimmy Dean’s TV show performance in the early 1960s (see YouTube), and pointed out that the speed and technically correct guitar picking did not suffer one bit even when Roy was making faces and dancing. Perfect entertainment. Most great players seem to concentrate on their playing, Roy is so confident that he is light years ahead of other pickers while pulling in the audience closer with his antics. And Roy is a picker, one who hits one string or note at a time and not a “strum” for a sound.
ROY THE WILDCAT
In the 1950s, Roy was getting a lot of local radio and television time which raised his visibility and he soon had access to a recording studio and was learning recording techniques.
About this time future country star Jimmy Dean with his band, The Texas Wildcats, were beginning to get noticed. Roy had backed Jimmy on several demo recordings. Dean offered Roy a guitarist slot in the Wildcats and he accepted and played with them for two years. Dean opened Roy’s eyes that this thing they were doing was a business as well as fun. They mostly played in the DC area and often were the band when politicians wanted a hillbilly band, so the guests could wear neckerchiefs and blue jeans. Roy said these gigs were as exciting as “getting a French kiss at a family reunion.”
Roy watched Jimmy working the crowds at functions shaking hands with everyone, ‘cause you just might need them later on in your career. The radio show was six days a week with a dance played every night of the week. He was really honing his chops in the business. They did a tour with Red Foley, Ernest Tubb, and Andy Griffith. Griffith was already a star comedian and musician long before he became Sheriff Andy. Griffith and him became friends, and Griffith got the lead in the first televised Broadway play, No Time For Sargents. It became successful. Ten years later a television show version was being developed. Griffith recommended Roy to try out for the part he had played. Roy was called to New York to read for the part. Sam Goldwyn (MGM studios) liked what he saw and sent Roy to California to audition for the studio who would produce it. Jack Webb (Sgt. Joe Friday of Dragnet) was the producer. Roy waited for a “considerable” amount of time in Webb’s outer office before being called in. Roy walked in, Webb looked at him and immediately said “You’re too fat. Nice to have met you,” and he was ushered out without Roy saying a word. Welcome to Hollywood big leagues.
ROY & ELVIS
Dean’s band got a job backing up Elvis on a tour in the DC area. Roy remembers Elvis as a laid back country boy, all “Yessir” and “Thank you very much.” At the time Col. Parker (Elvis’ manager) advised Dean’s manager to “forget about the tall guy with the accordion (Dean) and focus on his guitar player (Roy); he has a future.”
It was at this time Roy met his second wife, Barbara, at one of the clubs they played. She and some friends had come out to see some hillbillies play music. For Roy, it was love at first sight, as he played, he kept looking at her, and before he knew it, Roy had come from the back of the stage (where backup musicians belong) to standing in front of Dean and his accordion, playing hot licks and rolling his eyes at Barbara. He finally got her phone number and began courting her, which was difficult as he was playing seven nights a week. They worked things out, got married, and she stayed by his side for 61 years until his death.
Roy finally wrangled a slot on Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Show, a nationally broadcast show. It was a contest and the show was in New York City, which looked down its collective noses on hillbilly music. Roy set out to change that with his rendition of Blue Suede Shoes. He killed the audience; then his competition, a New York opera singer performed. Roy came in second.
The loss was a blessing, as now he could be promoted as a national television performer, which increased his earnings and bookings. Roy went back to playing at the Dixie Pig club in DC. Roy was a “star” in DC, by playing every tea party, square dance, club, and even the White House for over 10 years, but he was virtually unknown outside the area. In 1957, Roy joined the Shamrock Three and began playing nightly from 9 pm to 2 am with one 20-minute intermission and also an afternoon show. It was during this time he perfected his comedy and guitar picking routine. The crowds kept increasing as word got out on his entertaining capabilities.
In 1960, at the age of 27, Roy took a look at his life; he was a local star, making okay money, but he realized that his older performer friends were facing being stuck playing in clubs for the rest of their lives with no insurance, no bank accounts, and real no future. Roy Clark didn’t want to be one of them, but he didn’t know how to change his predicament, he had no diploma, no craft to change to, he had been just playing guitar for the last 15 years.
He had been following Dean’s advice of making as many acquaintances as possible. One of his friends knew Wanda Jackson, the rockabilly queen, who was performing in DC. His friend brought Wanda to see the show. The next day Wanda called and said she was getting ready to play Las Vegas and needed a guitarist. Barbara and Roy stayed up all night weighing the pros and cons of leaving the DC “steady job” with no future. They decided to make the career move into an unknown area.
VEGAS, BABY
Leaving Barbara in DC, Roy drove to Oklahoma City to meet Wanda as they toured. They worked their way to Las Vegas, playing shows in Lubbock, Odessa, and New Mexico. The Golden Nuggett Casino proved to be everything Roy had dreamed of - bright lights, huge crowds, and music. They shared the stage with Bob Wills, Hank Thompson, and Hank Penny. Roy opened the show for Wanda with a 20-minute set of music and comedy, then blended back into her band. After a four-week run, they went on tour through the Western states and ended up in Nashville where he played on Jackson’s next record. Roy had finally made the big leagues.
While watching the recording session, a man from Capitol Records, approached Roy and offered him a record deal. There was a caveat, Capitol had several vocalists in its roster but needed an instrumentalist. So Roy released an album of blazing guitar work which made the charts.
Where ever Wanda Jackson’s band went venue managers took notice of Roy’s showmanship and asked him to return by himself. He acquired a new experienced manager, who booked him into a Kansas City club and subsequent tour. Barbara and Roy put their furniture in storage and crammed all they could into a 1957 Ford station wagon. For the next 345 days, those two drove thousands of miles with Roy playing every night. This was in 1961, and he was making $500 a week, entertaining thousands of “friends,” and sharing life with his wife. They stayed on the road for two more years playing clubs for longer periods of time, before they had made enough money to slow down.
Prior to hitting the road, he recorded four singles which received decent airplay, which led to a full album. He also recorded two “black” songs, which received heavy airplay on black radio stations, who had no idea that Roy was white. Capitol considered putting out an album without his face on the cover. Television exposure squelched that idea.
TALL HOG IN THE TROUGH
In 1962, Jimmy Dean had been guest host on the Tonight Show just prior to Johnny Carson taking the chair. Jimmy needed a guest and tracked down Roy, who was playing at a club in Arizona on a Wednesday night, and told him to be in New York for a guest shot on Friday night. Knowing this would move his career up a notch; Thursday night, he jumped a flight from Tucson to Phoenix to Chicago and on to New York arriving at 1 pm Friday.
He took a cab to the studio, quickly rehearsed two songs, met Dean, played several songs on national television, and headed back to Arizona, making it back in time for the Saturday night show. As the taxi neared the club it was stopped in traffic, Roy and the driver thought there had been a disaster at the club or vicinity. It turns out that so many people had seen him on the Tonight Show, that they just had to go see him perform. To satisfy the crowds he did three shows that night.
Due to his TV appearance, record sales increased dramatically, and the record company rapidly got him back in the studio to record more music. As Jimmy Dean had told him in New York: “You are about to be the Tall Hog at the Trough.” Truer words were never spoken.
Offers came flooding in and Roy began playing TV shows and large concert package shows around the U.S. and Canada. He went on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand and returned many times to the Tonight Show and other variety shows. He soon became an entertainer who sang country, instead of an entertaining country singer.
In 1969, while recording in Nashville, his producer brought in a song for him to record. It didn’t fit any of the other artists he was producing, which wasn’t encouraging. It was written by a Frenchman and had been a huge hit in Europe for five years. Translating it to English had been difficult, but one version approved by the writer was finally produced. Roy listened to the demo tape and was floored. It was the story of his life as he saw it. The title: Yesterday, When I Was Young. The single shot up the Pop, Country, and Rock charts and was a hit in Canada. He also performed it at baseball legend Mickey Mantle’s funeral and on the Muppets' TV show. This song upped the importance of country music and Roy’s follow-up songs charted higher than ever. For the next several years, message songs like I Never Picked Cotton and I Give You Music, were crowd pleasers along with his fantastic picking and clowning.
In the summer of 1969, while taping the Jonathan Winters’ Show, some TV producers approached Roy. They were developing a show along the lines of Laugh-In, that featured country music and humor, but had no title yet and needed a high-visibility TV entertainer with a country flavor. He said “Sure, I’ll be part of it,” thinking that it would never become realized. Several months later his manager called and said the show was ready to start filming. Roy asked what show, his manager reminded him of his vocal agreement. So he asked what the name was, Hee Haw. He thought to himself: “That’s horrible, we country musicians have been trying to shake the hillbilly label for years and this won’t help that image.” The network only wanted one one-hour show. No problem for damage.
Roy thought he was kind of off the hook, when the show was announced as a summer replacement for the Smother’s Brothers Show. That meant 12 shows. Skill was on the producers’ side, as they had decided to shoot the show in Nashville, instead of New York or Hollywood. Country talent was living in their backyard and no travel costs to pay performers. The Country Music Association and all other country music “businesses” were against it, saying it would never work. Roy thought “Okay, twelve shows, then back on the road.”
HEE HAW IS A HIT
Filming began, and this writer is fairly sure that everyone knows the format of the show. The producers shot 12 cornfield scenes in one day, the next day shot 12 Amateur minutes (complete with thrown vegetables), the next day the Junior Samples BR549 car lot scenes (Junior wasn’t acting), the next day, 12 opening scenes of Buck Owens and Roy clowning around and introducing the first guest. The guest musicians, which were the top Nashville talent were shot at the convenience of the musician. The scenes were spliced together to form 12 weeks of shows. Roy said that this was pure genius as in later years the cast was only together for several weeks twice a year, and “they didn’t get on each other’s nerves, and it was like a working family reunion twice a year, everyone had fun and made money.”
At first, major stars were reluctant (at least their managers) to be on the show. This gave up-and-comers a shot, like some guy who had just released his third album and introduced his new single called Amarillo By Morning to the nation. You know who. After the star’s managers saw the exposure their client would get, it was a flood of requests, it would be easier to say which cultural star wasn’t on it. That would have been Elvis, however two of his ex-girlfriends were regulars on the show as the Hee Haw Honeys (Elvis loved the show, but Col Tom said NO, not enough money.)
From Hugh Hefner to Kitty Wells to Terry Bradshaw to Sammy Davis Jr. to Ray Charles - all donned the overalls and told corny jokes and had fun. Well, despite all the Nashville “suits” dour forecasts, the show was a tremendous hit for decades.
The schedule of taping gave Roy plenty of time to schedule his own shows and take offers. One was as a regular host when Johnny Carson took his plentiful vacations. During this time, he and Barbara had been living in DC and his constant touring (really constant) was starting to wear on him. His manager pointed out that he lost a lot of time in traveling and suggested that if he lived in the Midwest, he could be at home 20 days a year more that he saved. Roy had for some reason always liked Tulsa, Oklahoma and soon bought a house there. The change fit them well.
ROY IN RUSSIA
The success of Hee Haw enabled Roy to sign a million-dollar contract with a Howard Hughes casino in Las Vegas. The real Big Leagues but not the biggest yet. While playing shows in Vegas (1974), a group of Russian farmers and scientists were visiting the U.S. to learn how we grow so much wheat. They all wanted to see Las Vegas. The hosts arranged it to see the casinos and a Roy Clark show as a sample of America. When leaving, one of the Russians asked Roy if he would like to come to Russia to repay American cultural generosity. Of course, Roy said, all the while wondering how that would ever happen, but then again he was wrong about Hee Haw.
Well, a year later, he got a phone call asking if he was ready to perform in Moscow. Off, he and his traveling show of musicians went and they performed for crowds of 5,000 to 20,000 people and on the Russian TV channel (only channel). Roy and his crew had a ball and fell in love with the people. Several years later he and his entourage returned. He communicated his jokes through an interpreter and his guitar talked the universal language, music.
Roy had always loved flying, so when the money got right, he took lessons, bought a small plane, and would fly to gigs. After the money got even better, he hired a commercial pilot and bought a larger plane to ensure arriving at his gigs on time. Once, after he became an established Vegas act, a group of Blue Angels (Navy aviation acrobatic team) were in the audience, they invited him to come out and ride along in the backseat of a Phantom F4. He went up with the team to practice and was allowed to do some basic maneuvers from his backseat position. The ultimate Big Leagues of flying.
Well, once you are a superstar, who is your biggest fan? Why, the I.R.S. of course! In his bid not to become a club singer forever, he had been making investments along the way, some good, some not. Apparently, he had invested in silver, and the I.R.S. claimed he owed them $200,000 and on top of that they said he had owed them for 15 years, and the interest was now at $1 million dollars. When that was resolved, the I.R.S. wanted to talk to him and Johnny Carson about their investment in the DeLorean Car debacle, another “can’t lose” proposition. Johnny and Roy lost. Living in Oklahoma, everybody has lots of oil well, as did Roy. The trouble was none of them ever produced any oil.
BRANSON IS CALLING
As seen, when you have money, investments opportunities abound, it’s just that someone else wants some money to take their idea and get rich. One day in 1981, someone offered Roy a chance to invest in a small community in southern Missouri that had several small concert venues, and was looking for a major star attraction. Roy liked the beautiful countryside, the cleanliness of the town, the close proximity to Tulsa, and the thought of controlling his own money and time really appealed to him. It also crossed his mind that this is where the “real” Hee Haw characters lived.
With three other investors the Roy Clark Theatre opened in August, business went okay for the next couple of months, and then October happened. Nobody had thought about the fact that Branson shuts down for the winter, so they were stuck with construction costs and no revenue. Roy exercised a clause and got out of the deal under the condition that the theatre keep his name on the marque. The next year Boxcar Willie was booked and the crowds came to see him. The next act was Mel Tillis and the theatre paid off its bills and became a viable business.
In 1989, the owner offered to sell it to Roy. It took two years of getting over the fear of getting burned again before Roy agreed to buy it. He played 110 dates the first year, and after several years doubled that number. The more he played the more he loved the closeness and interaction with his fans. Tourists came in such numbers that many other musicians opened theatres making it the mecca for country music.
ROY CLARK ELEMENTARY
Roy Clark has received every award in the music industry and quite a few other honors, but the one he is most proud of is the school children of Tulsa voted to name an elementary school after him. His philanthropy promoting education in the Tulsa area had been under the radar for years. His hundreds of benefit shows, are spread across the nation. Brad Paisley related that when Nashville flooding wiped out all of his belongings, Roy sent a guitar to him.
Roy kept playing at home and various festivals even when he had to be assisted on and off the stage. He told the crowds that he could still carry the whole load, it just might take three trips now. Roy passed away at home of complications from pneumonia.
Roy’s closing number was generally a ferocious version of the guitar flamenco classic Malaguaña, which has never been topped, it is well worth enjoying on YouTube.
Roy always ended his show with a note of appreciation and wisdom: “The next chance you get to do something nice for someone: say hello or open a door, and maybe they will do it for someone else” or “We had to come, but you had a choice. Thanks for being here.”
Yes, Roy, millions of fans thank you.