I remember watching Lawrence Welk with my parents as a kid. I still see it on obscure PBS stations from time to time. It's strangely soothing. Welk more or less defines "milquetoast." Via Dean, check this out. You'll never guess the song:
At the end poor old Lawrence calls it a "modern spiritual." I'll say.
Not that I've ever been preoccupied with the subject previously, but I will now have an entirely different picture of the Welk touring bus and what occurs inside as it's rolling down the highway, from one tour stop to another. I also have an entirely different picture of my parents, watching Welk, after I left home. They disguise it well, but now, there can be no doubt.
Not that I've ever been preoccupied with the subject previously, but I will now have an entirely different picture of the Welk touring bus and what occurs inside as it's rolling down the highway, from one tour stop to another. I also have an entirely different picture of my parents, watching Welk, after I left home. They disguise it well, but now, there can be no doubt.
Someone in charge of booking acts was asleep at the switch, so to speak.