The Bizarre Demise of Mighty 690
The following is a true story. I know. I was there...
The year was 1961. The place was the sleepy little boarder town of Tijuana, Mexico, where a tiny radio station, the Mighty 690, was pumping out 100,000 watts of effective radiated power, blanketing the Western half of the United States with the hottest sounds around. Chuck Barry, Elvis Pressley, Little Richard blasted the USA from a downtown LA studio that routed its signal through Mexico for purposes of circumventing certain wimpy FCC regulations on transmitter power. Mighty 690 ruled the waves in a way in which no US transmitter could hope to compete.
The Finest Sound Around had millions of loyal fans that fateful April day, when the song from hell first hit the airwaves.
I never will forget turning on the radio that first morning to hear the announcer saying, "and now, Ricky Nelson, with 'My bucket's got a hole in it." I waited breathlessly for the Irrepressable Ricky, but it was never to be, for out of my radio came a most horrible monotone chant:
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
When four of these utterances had appeared, I assumed a scratched record. (In the olden days, CD's had actual grooves in them and the laser [actually a needle] could become stuck in the groove, so that... never mind.) Suddenly, the lyrics changed dramatically, and we heard:
Oh, dee ya dee ya ya dee ya ya ya
Ya dee ya ya dee ya ya ya
Followed by an actual English word:
Goin' bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
All this time, mind you, the song, with exception of the "Oh" and the "Goin'," had consisted of a single note, A-flat, repeated over and over.
Just when I thought I must have lost my mind, the verse began, once again making all but exclusive use of that wonderful A-flat note:
Well, I just got back from outer space
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
The chicks out there ain't got no face
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
With three pair o' arms and four left feet
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
They do the hand jive with their feet
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Ooo--ooo
Ooo--ooo
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
(Chorus)
To say that I was shaken after the first rendition of this song would be to put it mildly, but this was only the beginning. The announcer pitched a new housing development in Florida, then announced Pat Boone singing "Red Carnation for a Blue Lover," but instead we heard the graceful strains of:
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp....
He went on to pitch membership in a tennis club in Connecticut, followed by, "Listen to the The Big Bopper with..."
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp....
I couldn't stand to listen to it anymore, but I soon discovered I couldn't stand NOT to listen to it either. I tuned back in: "Now, Elvis sings his new hit song..."
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp
Bompitty bomp bomp de bomp bomp bomp....
It went on like this for three of the longest days of my and my friends' young lives. Never an explanation. Never an allusion by anyone on the air to the demon that had captured our favorite station's very soul.
Soon, everyone in school was listening. Before school, after school, between classes. We were mesmerized, like cobras in a basket. After the first 100 playings or so, we had mastered the complex lyrics and found ourselves, in spite of our hatred for the awful thing, actually chanting along:
We heard ads for a local clothing store in Cincinnati, Ohio. We learned that the Fire Department in Schenectady, New York, was starting their annual Toys for Tots drive. But most of all we learned to sing a perfect A-flat with our eyes wide open and no one home inside.
Exactly 72 hours after the possession began, Mighty 690 suddenly signed off the air forever, taking with it a precious piece of our childhood.
