Of Moxie and The Marcels

Sad but true: one of the miseries of getting older is that things you cherished disappear. Or change. Forever not for better.

Two examples: "oldies" shows that don't feature any members of the original groups, and companies that tamper with the recipe of favorite foods.

It's definitely a bit depressing when you want to cheer yourself up and go to a show...and "The Animals" doesn't have either Eric Burdon or Alan Price. Or you buy a chocolate bar you're nostalgic about, and discover it's saltier or blander than you remember. It might even have artificial ingredients that have you running to the bathroom.

Sometimes the problem with the miserable food or miserable act is that ingredients are no longer cheap or easy to manufacture, or the originals have died. Too often the problem is just cynicism: "we can get away with it, and almost nobody will notice or care."

If you DO notice and care, and feel cheated, you also feel angry and alienated.

Here's a guy who ain't happy.

His problem? Moxie changed their art work. "Purists" were upset. This news hardly bothered anyone, since Moxie, once a national soda company, is now a local curiosity bottled and canned in Maine somewhere, and barely sold anywhere else. A few mail order places sell it, with horrible shipping charges, to Moxie addicts elsewhere. The news wasn't nearly as sensational as when Coca-Cola changed their label AND their recipe, which led to a revolt so massive, they had to bring back the original flavor.

It's rare when that happens. Usually people accept the changes or don't even notice.

A worse situation happened for me. I actually ordered a carton of Moxie (which I do maybe once every year or two) and discovered it was blandly sweet. At first I wondered if something was wrong with ME. But, not bothering to go check on line in some Moxie forum, I chose to believe THEY CHANGED THE RECIPE. Gone was that strange herbal tang. Maybe the crop of gentian root this year was off. Maybe it became too expensive.

Another misery: an "oldies" TV show offered a performance by The Marcels. Hey, I'm always up for that, even if it's bound to be just the ONE song. But...where was the lead singer? Where was the original bassist? GONE. OK, death happens. Illness happens. Even feuds happen. But could you at least WARN ME and be HONEST with the audience and explain this is now a TRIBUTE BAND?

Nevermind, right? The average drunken moron who goes to these oldies shows accepts that most of these faceless bands don't have original members. While they expect the real Lou Christie to show up, they figure any bunch of niggas can be The Platters or The Marcels. Unfortunately, these fuckheads don't even sound close. The bassist doesn't have those rich comic tones. The lead singer doesn't have anguish in his voice (the anguish you get when you pound on the box office window and say "I want a refund!").

Sometimes a band that's been fractured takes the trouble to find a replacement who sounds similar. The current Jay and the Americans did that, even as Jay Black, no longer allowed to even put "former lead singer of Jay and the Americans" in the ad copy, still does a good version of himself. No, usually it's the insanity of going to see Herman's Hermits, not seeing Peter Noone anywhere, not hearing anyone with his chipmunk voice, and figuring, "Oh well, I've had enough beer that it doesn't matter. I'm here to have a GOOD TIME."

Sad but true. Things change. Sometimes radically. Why Brooker decided to start killing and raping girls in Nigeria is something I'll never understand. But it's no wonder that "oldies" shows refuse to book Boko Haram.