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Spelling it out to spare you my singing.

One thing remembered from some classes I have taken is the "twist". The teacher asks for a definition of an arching concept and following many "Oh, I have this," pupil contributions there's an add-on from the revered prof which makes a few gasp, a few more almost awaken, and in the case of the very liberal classes an occasional soul who will growl, "No more will I be intellectually tried---I mean force fed dogma," and start a conservative strip or column.

The ample Mr. Checker is not in this entry but indeed we will deal with music and nostalgia. The dancing will be up to the reader, as will be the evaluation of my "twist".

I have two bands rehearsing as usual (that's why we have directors---frustrated ones) for Monday and I thought of, in time for la-de-da cinema season, the 1949 film "In The Good Old Summertime". It is set in Chicago---yes, yes, in the summer! Mentor is warming up her game, also---around 1900, a fallow setting for post WWII flickers, and involves a romance between a music store clerk and a lady he hires. The film opens with the two male stars on one of those tall bicycles (betcha the public knows 'em in this historic frame from Looney Tunes) on their way to an outdoor community band show.

So my film will be "In The Good Old Summer Time 2015." Yes, community bands will be involved. They are still around.

Okay, time to spell out my twist. This would be a kind of 1970's film.

Remember the 1970's? Big bands were perpetually back even more than during the 60's, and in the bigger entertainment picture "Holly Would" be blazing back with the classic stuff. Yes, "we" are bringing back the glamour. Enough never-mind and mayhem. Why, certain friends kept me up on columnist James Bacon and his parade of 50-ish actress-interviewees forever sneering about every young "Kitty Litter" who thought she was the bomb. Errol Flynn himself just might reconstitute.

Ah, James Bacon: he vehemently excoriated Christine Crawford for "Mommy Dearest". Another Christine crusher was psychic Kenny Kingston who traded on the "It's coming back---for good,". Heck, he did his private readings at Horace Heidt's complex. He's the one who claimed he saw Bogart's spirit sipping drinks in a Las Vegas lounge---and a cure for cancer next year, 1975 or thereabouts in the rear view.

Enough bumming-out. The good old summer time of 2013 is about to commence, so back to being light of heart if not waxy of ear, and the bands have play dates on the horizon.

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