An Open Letter To WDRV’s Bob Stroud. Late isn’t Always Great!

Hi Bob,

I hope you are enjoying your semi-retirement as much as I am enjoying mine. New paths to discover and old ones to reminisce about.

And plenty of free time to air pet peeves and gripes, hang-ups and annoyances. So I am using this space to air one of mine.

But first, a compliment. Long-time listener long-time fan. I was an early adopter and admirer of The Drive. I only relegated the station to the hardest-to-reach button on my car radio when Van Halen+ACDC+Aerosmith began to dominate the station’s playlist and I was forced to return to ‘XRT. But through it all, if I am in my car on Sunday mornings, I push that hard-to-get-to button and listen to you and Rock’n’Roll Roots. You beat that Breakfast with the Beatles show hands down.

I greatly enjoy the mix of 60s and 70s rock you feature. Some of the songs are well-remembered, others buried deep in the sulci of my cerebral hemispheres. Cover versions and forgotten originals are always a plus. But it’s your thoughtful commentary that holds the show together.

So what is my complaint? Bob, I know it’s your phrase that pays, but not everyone who has passed away deserves the honorific of “the late great.” When you die you are “late,” but that doesn’t automatically make you “great.”

I can understand if on February 25th you want to play While My Guitar Gently Weeps and preface it as a celebration and remembrance on the birthday of the “the late great George Harrison.” After all, he was a Beatle, if only the quiet one. And sure, on the anniversary of Glenn Frey’s death it’s ok to play The Heat is On and reminisce about the late, great former Eagle.

But I cringe when I hear you call the guy who brought Fleetwood Mac their coffee during the recording of Rumours as “the late great caterer Ferd McPorter.” From what I hear, McPorter frequently poured too much milk into Lindsay Buckingham’s cappuccino. Surely you can find a better way to talk up You Make Loving Fun. Late great indeed!

And don’t get me started on your annual Gone But Not Forgotten episode. Was the guy who vacuumed the carpet in the office where Billy Joel signed with Columbia Records really all that great of a janitor?

I know you didn’t originate the phrase, and I know you aren’t the only one to overuse it. I ran across it in the New York Times today, in an article about the very good, but never-Oscar-winning, not quite great, actor Tom Wilkinson. And there was a massive best-seller in the 1970s, The Late Great Planet Earth. Perhaps that’s where you first came across the “late great” phrase?

I have no quibble with memorializing people who have passed on. From celebrating my own mentors to folks in the world of music, I have done it often in my blog posts. But while these people had a huge impact on me, their knocking on the pearly gates didn’t instantly elevate them to greatness. Even the Oscars and other awards program present their “In Memorium” segments with somber music and dimmed lights, but without the allegation that every cameraman being recognized was a great one.

Bob, thanks for letting me get this off my chest. It’s quite a relief. And let me say, for all these years, it has been GREAT listening to you.

Long-time fan,

Les