This is how the kids were entertained on a summer evening in 1959. From the Aug. 31 issue of the Washington Post, Times Herald, curiously headlined "Park Teen":

"Annette Funicello, the Disney movie and TV discovery, is one of the teenagers singing their recording hits on the 'Show of Stars' bill opening the Carter Barron Amphitheater's final week Tuesday night."

This item, with a photograph (but not the one pictured here), appeared in the paper's A section. A reason to thank Ben Bradlee for creating Style? It must be noted that the Mouseketeer was billed over Clyde McPhatter and the Clovers. Paul Anka was the headliner.

Also on the page, Hollywood gossip columnist Louella Parsons complains about Darryl Zanuck's plans to make a movie of the hit pulp novel The Chapman Report, writing, "But to me sex habits of women should not be put on any motion picture screen for public exhibition." Sorry, Louella, the film, directed by George Cukor and starring saucy starlet Jane Fonda, won the '63 Golden Globe for Best Picture. Apparently, the exhibition of women's sex habits was of some interest to people in the '60s.

Thanks to inveterate researcher Jeff Krulik for plucking this vital information from the dustbin of history, located somewhere inside the Library of Congress.

And video, uh, viceroys? Country-blues-rockers the Bourbon Dynasty will be shooting scenes for a video of its song "Girl in the Checkout Line" at a free show this Thursday at Chick Hall's Surf Club in Bladensburg, Md.

Actually, the band already has it's star, a "smoking young woman" to portray the titular grocery store gal, says Bourbon singer/guitarist Charles Walston. Those scenes will be shot later; Thursday's show focuses on band and audience.

We profiled "Girl in the Checkout Line" in this One Track Mind. It's a song that certainly lends itself to visualization. And here's a Bourbon Dynasty Pop Quiz.

Beside the cost, another reason to check out the "Hard Music for Hard Times" band is that Chick Hall's is the last remaining roadhouse in the area. Come on, you've seen the cherry blossoms. Now see a more authentic D.C. attraction.

Get ready for your closeup at 8 p.m. The Surf Club is at 4711 Kenilworth Ave., Bladensburg.

"Jazz brunch." Sure, the phrase may bring a sneer to hipster lips. There is the air of lounging gentrifiers smugly quaffing their champagne and quiche while lame piano tinkles in the background.

However, put the accent on the jazz, and the good news is that drummer Brooks Tegler has found a new home for his afternoon swingathons. Actually, it's an old home. Tegler has returned to the Irish Inn at Glen Echo, following the recent closing of the Starland Cafe. The drummer/music historian was a featured Sunday attraction there for 13 years, when the place was simply the Inn at Glen Echo. (Interesting history of the restaurant/roadhouse here.)

"Overall it's gone pretty well," says Tegler about the new gig, noting that "You can't go back. It's the same building, roughly, the same location, but very different people, very different slant on what they want to do. And completely out of touch as far as local jazz, live music in general. The only live music they've ever had there was a bunch of Irish musicians coming in on Monday nights and playing for beer. So, this is a bit of a shock to them."

"But," he says, "they like the money they've been making for almost a month."

Tegler and his jazz pals had "a bit of a bumpy ride last Sunday," when faced with attempts to "pull down a massive screen and play the basketball game while we were playing." Tegler's band wasn't alone in feeling the effects of March Madness. (See The Unforgettable Fake.) And in this increasingly video world, the problem is not going away.

"I work in Europe and Japan every year, and I've watched gradually that disease start working its way over there," he says "But you can still find places where they would be just dumbstruck at the notion that they would turn the television on while there was live music."

Tegler is hopeful that the new owners will be open to his suggestion to taking the music outside when the weather warms up. "'Cause I always like to do that," he says, adding with a laugh, "Then they can pull the damn screen down and watch whatever the hell they want."

Here's a Pop Quiz Tegler did in 2003.

So, what are you doing Sunday afternoon?

Friday night in the Sprung. Local band the Oxymorons (pictured above) are on the small stage at McGinty's Public House, sweating through the blues-based rock, doing what all local covers-plus-originals groups do: working to please the crowd.

And suddenly, a huge cheer erupts. A huuuuge cheer, with screaming and clapping and stomping. The song comes to a close. Conga player Paul Hyland is moved to ask, "What just happened?"

This just happened:

Georgetown's frantic, pulse-pounding, nail-biting last second win over Vanderbilt.

Such is life for bar bands. Though you're standing on a stage, you may not be the evening's prime entertainment. McGinty's kept the TVs on all night. I've played gigs where the bar owner wouldn't let us start until the game ended. But at least he turned the set off when we cranked up the faux Santana. ("You gotta change your evil ways, baby!")

Read More "The Unforgettable Fake" »

Friday's freezing sleet shower wasn't just annoying. It threatened to wreck the Pharmacy Prophets/Welbilt show at Iota. Prophet drummer Ben Mellott got stuck in traffic on I-66. But at least he was in the same state as the gig. The guy originally scheduled to back Welbilt never got closer than the New Jersey Turnpike. Fortunately, the Fairfax alternapoppers had a backup. Drummer Mike Smirnoff got a call at 7 p.m. for the 9 p.m. gig. Mike had a date. He canceled the date. As he said later, when rock 'n' roll calls, "You gotta live it."

Smirnoff arrived for the 8 o'clock soundcheck with just his sticks and drum throne, because the plan was that both bands would use Mellott's gear. But the only thing onstage between the amps and mic stands was empty space. After some moments of anxious cell calls, Mellott and his black Pearl kit finally arrived and the show got underway on time.

Considering the weather, a surprisingly hearty crowd enjoyed a set of briskly melodic pop from Welbilt and the debut of songs from the Prophets' gothic rock opera Fantome, which the band plans to turn into a short film.

Jon Gann wants to be on TV. Specifically, the upcoming reality show On the Lot, created by Steven Spielberg and Mark Burnett (Survivor, etc.). To that end, the filmmaker created a Web site, Put Jon on TV, excoriating exhorting people to vote for him.

The show pits filmmakers against each other for a supposed $1 million production deal, each potential Scorcese creating instant movies based on assigned criteria (genre, prop, character, etc.), the same premise as D.C.'s 48 Hour Film Project. Gann, a director, graphic designer, and creator of the DC Shorts festival (which City Paper is a sponsor of), notes that the program is "basically 48 Hours ripped off, and it's something I've excelled at in the past. And I thought, Wow, why wouldn't I do this?"

The 40-year-old Gann applied "under the premise that I'm older, but I'm a community builder, I believe in short film, I run a festival, blah blah blah, I see hundreds of films, so therefore I'd be an ideal candidate as someone who understands the craft of filmmaking. I may not be the world's best director, but I understand what audiences want."

The show's hopefuls are asked to submit an under-five-minute example of their work. Gann submitted his 2004 48 Hour award-winning flick Signs four months ago. For reasons unclear, it didn't show up on the site until earlier this week, putting Gann way behind the "vote-for-me" curve.

"My plan was to e-mail everyone I knew and get a lot of press out of it and have everyone vote for me so I could walk into the interview and say, 'Hey, look---I have 1,000 views!'" I was going to have postcards made. I was going to hand them out in the subway going, 'Vote for me! Vote for me!' I put that on the back burner, 'cause I didn't know what was going on, or if it was every going on."

But Gann is not giving up yet.

"I have a B plan that I can't really talk about yet," he says, explaining only, "My B plan would actually keep me in Washington and have me sort of working on the show at the same time. We shall see."

Link

The 9th Annual BOTU Film Festival took place last Friday at the Arlington Cinema Drafthouse. How did I miss the previous eight? Well, most of them took place in organizer Rich Bernett's house. "Sometimes in restaurants," added his wife, Carmen. The 10th will undoubtedly be back at the Drafthouse, or a larger venue, because the line was around the block as about 200 folks nearly filled the theater. This with competition from the DC Independent Film Festival and the premier of Black Snake Moan.

"I didn't expect any of this," said Rich by way of introduction. Indeed, official ballots ran out and later-arriving attendees were handed torn pieces of paper or the backs of last year's ballots to jot choices for the winners. BOTU ("Birthday of the Universe") has simple rules: "Nothing of a serious nature," but no porn, no "Jackass" stunts. "Basically, make us laugh and you're in the running," says the festival's site.

BOTU gives out three awards: Best in Show, Almost Best in Show, and a feature that should be de rigueur for all film festivals, the WTF Award. Bernett demonstrated that if the film made you show your "What the Fuck?" face, it qualified. There were several contenders, though the WTF winner, DeWayne Austin's Shwarma was utterly deserving.

BOTU is basically a popularity contest, so hometown teams triumphed over some stiff competition from California filmmakers. Announcing the runner-up, Adam Kirk's Two Keen Fellas, a Lazy Sunday: Chronicles of Narnia-style white-rapper embarrassathon, Bernett snorted, "I hated that one---and hated the guy who did it." We think he was kidding about the second part of that sentence.

The winner was Gabe Uhr's Venti Vice, cleaned up in the hours since its premiere at last year's 48 Hour Film Project. Uhr got a framed copy of the festival poster, framed by Carmen Bernett moments before Uhr got to the stage to accept it.

On Saturday, what felt like half a million children gathered at McGinty's Public House in Silver Sprung for the Woodstock of kid-centric music shows, Rock-n-Romp. The joint was literally crawling with rug rats and their parents, out for an afternoon of music and bar food.

In addition to sippy cups and buffalo wings, wee ones were treated to three bands, Lemonface, Middle Distance Runner, and Soft Complex. If that wasn't enough diversion, RnR founder Debbie Lee provided a plethora of inflatatable "air guitars," many of which were put to use as swords, and tables were set up with markers, stickers, and guitar-shaped paper. Like an ear infection through a day-care center, Lee's toddleriffic happening has now spread to three cities, Austin, Baltimore, and Memphis.

Lemonface, whose members are still in high school, made no apparent concessions for the event, rocking the diapers off the crowd.

Read More "Romper Room (With a Bar)" »

Hey, ladies! Sunday marks the 74th anniversary of "Anti-Flirt Week," a commendable effort begun by the woman pictured at right. The caption reads:

Miss Alice Reighly, President of the Anti-Flirt Club which has just been organized in Wash D.C. and will launch an 'Anti-Flirt' week beginning March 4th. The club is composed of young women and girls who have been embarrassed by men in automobiles and on street corners. 2/27/23

So, come on all you modern gals---don't let those brutes in their dangerous jalopies take the wind out of your sails. Show 'em you mean business---and only business---by battening down the lashes and keeping those lips pursed in a purposeful scowl next week.

And gents: Just because she flashes a bit of ankle doesn't mean her virtue is up for grabs. Honestly!

Thanks to our intrepid researcher-at-large Jeff Krulik for unearthing this treasure from the depths of the Library of Congress.

The AFI Silver Theater's screening of The Legend of Merv Conn sold out last week, and the crowd that showed up in the middle of Sunday's snowstorm for an added screening did a fair job of filling the Silver's glorious 400-seat main room. Which suggests that Washingtonians can't get enough accordion music.

Jeff Krulik's latest documentary profiles 86-year-young Silver Spring strolling accordion player Merv Conn, who, true to his title, strolled (and sat) around the theater serenading ticket buyers before and after the show.

A show of hands revealed that many in attendance were themselves squeezeboxers, including a contingent representing the Washington Metropolitan Accordion Society. (The group's next meeting is Sunday, March 18, at Sleepy Hollow United Methodist Church, in Falls Church, for those who are squeeze-curious.)

The members of '80s cover band the Spectacles were on hand, though just as spectators, as Conn waxed nostalgic about the accordion craze of the '40s and '50s. Listen to 30 seconds of audio of Merv serenading ticket buyers in the Silver's lobby before the show.

The Starland Cafe closed Sunday night, but don't expect bitter recriminations from the eatery's investors. Rather, the group showed their appreciation to Starland owners Bill and Joan Danoff by coughing up more dough to send the couple to Ireland for a week's stay in a country cottage, airfare included.

A brunch and live-music staple in the Palisades neighborhood for 10 years, the location will soon become part of the Capital Restaurant Concepts empire (Georgia Brown's, J. Paul's, Paolo's, Old Glory, et al.). The closing-night group of neighbors and well-wishers were serenaded by Jon Carroll, Bill Danoff's partner in his previous venture, the Starland Vocal Band. Carroll arrived from the Wammy Awards, which he left before hearing his name called as winner in the Pop/Rock Instrumentalist category.

No word yet where jazz drummer Brooks Tegler will take his Sunday-evening jam sessions.

Woodwind was "an arts paper," as it stated on the cover, some of whose staff and contributors remain on the D.C. scene 36 years after the April 4 issue we are currently perusing. Michael Schreibman now heads WAMA. (Note: the WAMMIES are this Sunday at the State Theater.) Contributor "William Holland" leads jazz-pop band Bill Holland and Rent's Due and was D.C. Bureau chief for Billboard magazine; and Richard Harrington is still writing about music for the Post's Weekend section.

In a column titled "workin" (no cap, no apostrophe), someone named Mike Hogan let forth this review, dated "Stardate 26 - 3 - 72," of Humble Pie, Alexis Koerner, and King Crimson at the, uh, Alexandria Roller Rink. Excerpted for clarity and charity:

Having previously traded in our skates for more than a few tokes of what we affectionately referred to as 'really good shit,' we sat waiting for Humble Pie's first set after missing the first two acts. Then, as the lights dimmed, out shot Stevie Pie, accompanied by Greg Pie, Jerry Pie and the newcomer Clem Pie. Stevie shouted a promise of Rock 'n' Roll and they did just that. Have no doubts about it, Pie plays gut music.

Hogan apparently regretted missing the opening acts, returning for the second show to see King Crimson, "because there's not another band in England or America that can touch them within their musical concept."

Despite our back-of-the-Rink seats, the perfection of K. Crimson easily obliterated all the acoustic handicaps indigenous to that place. But after a couple of mind sweepingly beautiful tunes, Robert Fripp stepped up to the mike and reeled a spiel toward the audience. It seemed to be a low key, but not so well disguised, insult concerning the audience's intelligence, and if the people up front were socializing like the ones in the back were, then it was indeed an insult and one justly deserved.

So, D.C.'s rep as a tough audience town has been long in the making.

Nick Curran e-mailed to alert us to an attempt to take down the never-ending theatrical juggernaut that is the Kennedy Center's Shear Madness. That so-called "out-of-touch" play will be replaced by a work better reflecting the real Washington, D.C., according to an open letter to Stephen Schwarzman and the KenCen Board of Trustees posted to the Web from "the Irish Felons."

This ground-breaking new play would be Hot Tubbin' I: Bringin' It.

On the group's Web site, the play's creators admit to an uphill battle, but express confidence that once the board reviews the manuscript, "the cast and crew of Shear Madness will be notified of their dismissal immediately so that the baton may be passed to the future of Washington theater, Hot Tubbin' I: Bringin' It.

The group's confidence may also be measured by the Roman numeral in the title. The follow-up is already planned: HT 2: His Majesty's Hot Tub, "which will continue examining the dilemmas of political life through the prism of the U.S.-Saudi Arabian relationship and the awesomeness of the Doobie Brothers."

Unlike Madness, the authors say, the appeal of Hot Tubbin' lies in how the work "vividly portrays Washington and the agonies of modern political life." Further, audiences "will closely identify with a muscle-bound kung-fu expert/cowboy/hot-tub engineer who looks like Lou Diamond Phillips."

In dismissing Shear Madness, the site asks, "Where is the Washington I know? Where are the mountains of cocaine, the monster trucks, and the ferocious cowboy vs. gorilla-congressman kung-fu battles? Where the heck is the groundless conjecture about the super-secret network of pervert-coddling homosexuals that apparently is nested within the upper echelons of the Republican Party?"

Furthermore, the Felons state, Hot Tubbin' I is "firmly rooted in the cherished traditions of American Theater," adding, "in addition to paying considerable tribute to Eugene O'Neill, Hot Tubbin' I has several characters who are gays."

Interested parties may read the manuscript in four acts here.

City Paper circulation manager Kris Koth unearthed copies of some of our forebears in the alternative-newspaper racket. Included was the May 31, 1972, Quicksilver Times, a short-lived "underground" rag that featured headlines such as "Demonstrators Fight Pigs," and "Bury the Pigs in Yogurt." (This woman claims the White House thought the Chinese were funding the paper.)

As a service to those of our readers who may have been otherwise distracted in 1972, we offer this sampling from the classified page, which paints a intriguing picture of D.C. life under Nixonian rule. (Phone numbers and last names have been redacted.)

Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers #2 has arrived. Get it at Earth Works, 1724 20th St. NW....

Wanted: domestic employment, preferably in a black plebian home, salary optional, do not desire to wear uniform unless blue jeans are considered appropriate, tops can vary, call for interview, resume upon request....

Serious man, 28, into guitar, singing & writing folk & C&W material wants to join non-redneck group....

Looking for a cloak, something that might have been worn by a vampire, contact Robert, special student services, Federal City College....

We need exp. potter and exp. welder, call or come by Bong Works, 2314 18th St. NW....

Sale: 8-track stereo, $39....

Wanted: Alive adults to help create a viable gestalt household, 1700 blk. Swann St., 4 story house, children enjoyed....

A couple of hippies need an apt. cheap for the summer, contact Steve, Box 89, Austin Hall, Ohio Wesleyan U., Delaware, Ohio 43015....

Mary Cliff is the latest longstanding D.C. media figure to be dropped from the airwaves. The gentle-voiced host of the folk-music show Traditions, heard Saturday nights on WETA-FM for nearly 34 years, was let go by the station Monday. The last “Traditions” broadcast will be this Saturday, Jan. 27.

“You'd have to ask [WETA management] why,” says Cliff. “They didn't have to justify it. In this business, you know, when you have a contract they give you money and you go away.” Cliff says this with a laugh, though clearly the situation saddens her.

The move is a result of the ongoing D.C. radio upheaval, spurred by Redskins owner Dan Snyder’s territorial imperative. Snyder's offer to buy classical station WGMS-FM prompted that station to change to some kind of oldies format called “George 104.” As reported on DCRTV.com on Monday, WETA is picking up the classical slack Monday evening, returning to the format it dropped for news/talk.

Looking on the bright side, Cliff notes that “there will be some arts coming back here. They'll be playing classical music instead of just talking.” And the DJ now has her Saturdays free. “Oooh, I can go to concerts!” she laughs. (Except for vacations, Cliff only pretaped two shows in more than three decades. Once was for a memorial service for a friend, the other for a Clapton concert.)

Cliff's soothing voice was a refuge and beacon for many in the acoustic and folk community, but she has yet to plan beyond the last show. “If I just needed to do radio, I could program my iPod. I don't have an iPod, thank you,” she says. “But to me it's a community thing, the community needs something to rally around, something to talk to, something to hear from, exchange information. And that's what it was since ’70, when folk music started on WETA. I've been doing it since March of ’73. It's been quite an experience. It's a great community to be a part of. “

Cliff says she's received a “proper severance. But that's not my problem. My problem is that the community loses a certain amount of its focus, which I think is unfortunate.”