Jay Cronley By World's own Service

Something interesting to ponder when it's too hot to be physical is the fact that some people continue to voice a dislike for the music made by the Hansons, three young men from here. Boys. Kids. Two boys and a young man. A boy, a lad and a young man. Three young Tulsans. There, how's that?
We have seen less than favorable opinions of this music in the call-in section of the newspaper, and we have probably heard something of this nature spoken to each of us personally.
You'd think the Hansons were from Texas or from Oklahoma City.

Hero worship.
Usually avoiding what you don't like to hear is reaction enough to promote a general sense of well being in the community.
What's unusual about any negative reaction is that it runs contrary to a general sense of hero worship that has always existed toward entertainers gracing our city either naturally, by birth or even if they're just passing through and have motor trouble out on the highway. Hack actors who were born here and appear in cheap and cheesy and sorry films are routinely revered. Entertainers who record at Vanity Studios and hustle their tapes from portable stages are often considered fine talents worth plenty of publicity. We'd cheer Bob Goulet in another of those faded road shows until our hands bleed.
But let me tell you something about these Hanson musicians: At this moment in time, they're as popular around the world as anybody.

Falling from favor.
Here are the main reasons why people seem to find some disfavor with popular singers and musicians:
1. Their youth.
Nobody seems to get upset about older singers. That Tina Turner, man, somebody should get a restraining order and keep her off the stage.
But remember, people don't get choose their age.
2. Tuneful music.
Now this is something I've never understood.
If somebody writes a melody that is original and memorable, it is somehow considered too commercial, even cheap. People like Barry Manilow have been accused of being too commercial, as has Billy Joel. But what's usually the case is the critics who feel this way couldn't rhyme violets are blue or put together three notes. "Too commercial" makes the composition of something tuneful seem too easy. Most of critics could probably use some money, or they wouldn't be critics. So go write a commercial song and make $10 million.
It's like the way mystery novels are thought to be an easy form of writing. So go crank one out next weekend.
There are, however, real reasons to dislike singers and musicians.
One is if they routinely appear unshaven.
Another is if they take themselves too seriously.