R.I.P. – The Walt Bodine Show

I am afraid I may have to have Nora buy KCUR and fire everyone there immediately.

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The Astas and I spent some quality holiday time in the family auto this morning. You know…it’s the Season of One Last Thing.

So, we ran the odd errands 1, did some charity work 2, and finished off our appointed rounds with hot chocolate outside at The Classic Cup.

However before we stared at ugly people on The Plaza we ventured into The Northland for the girls’ weekly shots 3. And it was while our vehicle was running hard northward we were witness to a searing and brutally horrific display of elderly abuse.

It was so bad Asta commented, “Da, I don’t think that man knows his name. Does he?”

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It began innocently enough.

A gaggle of foodies were sitting around the KCUR rainbow colored microphones, gassing about meals they had dined on this year; where and what had been their favorite meal/eatery and why?

I’m fairly sure I heard Charles Ferruzza 4 as well as two others and someone named Gina. Turned out we were listening to the Walt Bodine Show. Although to be fair? There wasn’t much Walt there, if you know what I mean.

Granted, Walt as a Kansas City institution is one hundrety eleven so he might be forgiven the occasional mental lapse or twist of the tongue. And perhaps if the Gina person could have occasionally nudged him to say “Hi!” and “Bye!” as appropriate, the elderly gentleman would not have been humiliated.


Gina had to bring him right into the conversation; there on live radio, in front of at least hundreds of listeners 5. Gina proceeded to confuse the ancient worthy with a truly evil quandary of a query — What…was Walt’s favorite meal of the past year?

And of course Walt had no idea. This despite Gina’s cattle-prod prompting. Perhaps, if given a moments’ respite, he might have honestly answered “the last one” as that’s as far back in this space-time continuum as Walt can recall. Why? Because Walt’s ancient, that’s why.

Kee-rist, people, at his age Walt’s lucky he can remember where his fly is.

Seriously – I have nothing but respect for Walt, but over is over.

Let Walt go home. Quit torturing the guy and, more importantly, quit pretending you’re doing him a favor, o.k.? I understand when Walt leaves there goes the show; there goes the audience; there goes a sizable portion of your subscription base.

I understand that.

I also understand the hundreds of senior citizens across Kansas City, sitting around their houses listening to Walt ramble –when he remembers to talk– and asking to themselves, “What? What did he say?”

To paraphrase — that ain’t entertainment. On a couple of levels it’s just plain cruelty.

Seriously, KCUR: You don’t have another single solitary idea in your collective brainpans about how to fill that hour other than to abuse Walt? 6

Does everyone sit around after the show and lie to Walt about how great he was on the air? Really? Well, I’ve a newsflash for you; while he wouldn’t admit it, the reason Grigsby retired was he listened to one of Walt’s recent “shows” and said to himself “Not me, brother. Not me.”

Surely you folks are better humans than this.


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Show 6 footnotes

  1. Last minute gifts for Nora, posted a few Christmas cards, dumped some used tires over on Independence Avenue…the usual.
  2. We drove by three different soup kitchens. I know, that seems like a lot but remember – the girls are getting older.
  3. It’s not as bad as it sounds. They each received 2 shots — 1 injection of atomized gold; a second stick of updated nanobots that swarm to an implanted audio/video/gps beacon, whereupon they upload their latest programming. The Astas believe the weekly visits are for their “allergies”. I suppose to some little degree this is true — the gold solution is to ward off any possible future attraction to impoverished artists (as well as idiotic drug/ booze fads); the nanobot updates are in direct response to my aversion to lack of control.
  4. Had to be him; can you think of anyone else who would publicly bitch ’cause the woman sitting across from him eats French fries without any weight consequences?
  5. Yeah, not normally us either. However Nora had taken my satellite radio equipped little red car shopping much earlier in the morning so I was stuck with the piece of shit Bose AM/FA radio in her Escalade.
  6. And don’t start with the nonsense about how “Walt wants to do this.” Uh huh; I bet if I asked Walt would he want to go hunting tigers in Loose Park he’d respond in the affirmative.

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