Down, Rex



Defacing Edifice Rex. (image via broadwatworld)

It is, perhaps,plainly in retrospect that a polished swell like Rex Reed would take offense at the plow paced bucolic charm of Altman's Prairie Home Companion. Oil and vinegar, they are, or, to be more aromatic, Channel No.5 to Old Leather. (Averted Gaze) We duly expected the barnyard breeze coming off Lake Wobegon to offend Old Rex's snooty sniffer. Still, "myopic doughboy," "corny," and "big load of tasteless cracker-barrel baloney" are a might hysterical even for our favorite sticky fingered film reviewer. But we nearly choked on our caramel coolata when reading this, in the salmon-colored weekly:

"Since I have never been a listener of Mr. Kiellor's dopey, long running program, I am probably not his perfect test market watcher. But the show's longevity indicates that it must have its fans. It first aired in 1974 and became a popular cornerstone of National public Radio for reasons none of its devoted followers have ever been able to explain convincingly. On the rare occasions when I have forced myself to tune in and find out what the fuss is about, I have always ended up dial doodling in search of weather reports or Tommy Dorsey records. As radio goes, I prefer reruns of Baby Snooks."



(Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)

Of what torturous contortions led Mr.Reed's fevered consciousness -- "senior moment"? -- to jump from Prairie Home Companion to "Baby Snooks" we will let pass in cacophanous silence.