[Today I’m reposting the post below, from two years ago, because I’ve started relistening to the Valley Heat podcast (and some of the newer episodes from the companion Good Morning, Burbank show) and nothing has made me laugh more. And I think we all could use some good laughs these days.]
This post was originally published on April 25, 2022…
I’m late to the game on this podcast (sorry, I lead a sheltered life), but Valley Heat is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.
It’s like A Confederacy of Dunces meets Arrested Development meets Fernwood 2 Night…. Doug’s deadpan delivery, a wacky cast of characters, fun music references, the bogus promo spots, and great theater-of-the-mind audio all combine to create a perfect storm of humor. Every element is note-perfect!
It’s a bit tough to explain because the folks responsible for the podcast have created a whole wacky world within a Burbank, California neighborhood. The protagonist, Doug, ostensibly is trying to crack the case of who is using his garbage can as a drug drop. But really that’s just a doorway to all sorts of shenanigans involving an accident-prone attorney, a house that’s also a nightclub/arcade/pizza parlor/car wash, a mean father-in-law (who also runs a muffler empire), a DEA agent who does stakeouts with his mom, legendary frisbee golf players, mean foosball players, Jan that Movie (listen to learn), and a weaselly optometrist. Speaking of which, here’s Doug talking about his teenage son, who was prescribed transition lenses:
I wound up binge-listening to all the episodes over a weekend and was cracking up the whole time. I don’t know what sort of mind can come up with a Simon & Garfunkel alternate version of the Cheers theme song, but I’m totally here for it!
The Patreon offers bonus episodes, which are equally entertaining. Here’s an excerpt about a new product that sounds perfect… other than the fire hazard: Don’t just trust my judgment on this, trust Eliza Skinner:
Or my buddy Howard:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have some Jannie Cakes for breakfast…
You don’t even need a Mission Purse. You just need to take action.
Don’t take it from me, take it from my writing hero:
When you take action, you become the master of your universe.
“It doesn’t matter how good it is, or how bad… ” Damn straight! No one starts out as a master of their craft. It takes a lot of “bad” to get “good.” Don’t be paralyzed by the fear of “not good enough.”
“Action is hope”… and we could use more of that in our universe, to combat the Dark Side.
My buddy Rob does PR for the Hamilton Joes — “Ohio’s Premier College Summer Baseball Team.”
He likes to have a bit of fun with the press releases. His most recent one is a prime example:
It’s smart. “I’ll take ‘Talkin’ ’bout a Revolution’ for $200 please, Ken.” (BTW, today I learned that Button Gwinnett has the first signature in the upper left corner of the Declaration of Independence.)
The press release is funny. Especially the line about “crumpet-nibbling fancy-boys.”
And it gets your attention. Which is exactly the point. Rob could’ve played it straight and just mentioned the game and the fireworks. But adding a bit of flair and frivolity makes the release a heck of a lot more interesting.
It’s a kids’ game, for crying out loud.
Oh, that’s right, there’s no crying in baseball. But laughing is always allowed.
I hate Alzheimer’s disease. But I love pie. And I love that someone is using the latter to fight the former. And someone else is shining a light on it.
Chris Joecken is someone I met when he was a student at Cincinnati State, and he was looking to break into the video/agency business. Great kid. Now he’s using his talents to tell powerful stories, and bring light and love into the world.
Beautiful. Simply beautiful. I know Helen makes fruit pies, but someone must be cutting onions in here. Those “ripples” are streaming down my cheeks right now.
Chris’ post is right on point. Thoreau said “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation” but I think most of us have it within us to be more like Helen, and channel our energies toward lives of humble service. A pebble in the ocean, maybe… but enough to make a ripple.
What can we do with our sorrow? How can we be stewards of what we already possess? How can we transform our pain into something beneficial for others?
It’s not my podcast, actually. It’s the podcast that Dave Tellmann and I do… or did, rather. But we’re still hauling in the hardware (“we’d like to thank the members of the academy…”) and reaping the accolades (“none of this would’ve been possible without your support…”).
The latest shout-out came courtesy of Cincinnati CityBeat.
Our “97X Rumblings from the Big Bush” podcast has run its course. (We did do a bonus episode recently after Mojo Nixon passed away.) But maybe a few more fans of the station will find their way to our little ol’ show. Which is the point.
“Rumblings” has a lot in common with a kid’s fort.
You can tell a lot of time and effort went into the construction of it, but it’s still clearly quite amateur. And that’s OK. For the few folks that tuned in, it was a time capsule from a time in their lives when the music and the people who shared it mattered a great deal to them. Those connections still matter.
We appreciate the recognition from CityBeat. Now if you’ll excuse us, Dave and I have to go put on our tuxedos for the awards ceremony.
On Saturday evening, instead of watching March Madness, I met up with some old friends for a happy hour that stretched into the wee hours.
Yesterday afternoon, instead of watching March Madness, I provided a bit of constructive (I hope) criticism and writing tips to students who had entered their short films into a college film festival. Yes, me, the man who thinks this is the pinnacle of American cinema:
Last night, instead of watching March Madness, I went to a poetry reading. Yes, me, the guy who struggles to understand anything more complex than The Family Circus comic strip.
(The ghosts haunt me…)
My choices were based in part on the fact that Xavier didn’t make the Big Dance this year. But all three events were certainly more nourishing for the soul than watching a gazillion AT&T commercials. Oh, and let’s not forget the countless minutes of “official review” so the refs can add a tenth of a second to the game clock. Scintillating!
The Saturday happy hour was with some friends from my ad agency days. The traditional ad agency model is in a state of disarray. Too much consolidation, not enough creative freedom. But the folks I met and worked with during my agency days remain some of the most creative folks I’ve ever known. Writers, designers, artists, muralists, musicians. Big Idea generators, every one of them. They bring more beauty into the world. Yes, some of it is in service of commerce, but that doesn’t diminish the beauty… if anything, it makes it more admirable.
The student film festival gave me hope that the next generation of our “creative class” will be just as creative. The tools may change, but the ability to tell a compelling story will always matter.
The poets were folks who went to Xavier in the late 60s/early 70s and bonded over their love of the written word. To be able to portray beauty and convey emotions with an economy of words is a rare talent. And one well worth celebrating.
(excerpt above is from the book Also a Poet by Ada Calhoun)
The rise of technology — especially AI — has some folks thinking that our souls will be superseded by machines. But I know better. Flesh and blood, and human connection, are what will help us not just survive, but thrive.
impossibly4332b32374 on Light. Laughter. Grace.: “I’ve got The Wet Engine on my shelf, and think I read about half of it. Time for another look.” Apr 21, 09:15
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