Git Outta The Hayloft

Up from the Ozarks and onto the airwaves has come the greatest flock of hillbilly and western stars ever assembled. Its the "Hayloft Jamboree of '53 on WCOP," as the announcer joyously introduces it. For a full hour, the characters chew over drawls, and flawlessly read down-to-earth humor from down-and-out scripts.

"Mrs. Bragg's skinny little boy Nelson" is master of ceremonies and his flunky Uncle Everett is the jockey. He introduces numbers in an indefinable dialect, inevitably ending with, "Thanks just a whole lot, there -- (insert name of star). The music itself is a baffling medley of guitars, fiddles, violins, and whining voices varying in mood from the gay, buoyant "We're Gonna Have a Big Time Tonight" to the lilting sadness of "I Wonder Where Y'are Tonight." Although I have never heard of the singers--the Lane Brothers, Jimmy Dickens, and Tex Logan--apparently they are the aristocracy of the hillbilly peoples.

No doubt the Jamboree is a bit of old Americana. But, with its musical hayloft at 170 Sheraton St. Plaza, it seems a trifle misplaced. Staid old Boston has banned better, it seems to me.