Happy birthday you big, bad, brawny sprawl of narrow minds, open hearts, endless highways, postcard perfect vistas, free refills and easy access to ice cubes, endless bargains, good water pressure, peerless television mania, wheatgrass enemas and vegan junk food shops, truck stop ice coffee energy drink bar pills, am radio preachers, fm radio fascist hate mongers blasting hollow platitudes over co-opted ac/dc riffs, amber waves of future budweiser six packs, exotic roadkill, black power, brown power, yellow peril, yellow power, white guilt, white pride, guns, grins, gelatinous superfood supplements, full contact sports, plasma screen catatonia, hope, fear, pancakes, bottle rockets, BRUUUUUUCEEEE!, flags, flags, flags....
Only in America could someone like Dora Hall have existed. She took the dictum "marry smart" damn seriously, and hitched herself to Leo Hulseman, who founded the Solo cup corporation. Don't know if you've noticed lately, but the Solo folks still have the market on wasteful plastic chalices cornered.
So Miss Dora fancied herself an entertainer and Hubby Solo saw fit to bankroll her singing career. She released numerous records throughout the sixties, seventies, and eighties, and most of them came free with packages of Solo cups. Not stopping there, Solo paid for several infamous tv specials hoped to launch her into a mainstream limelight. A few problems existed. She was already a grandmother by the time she began her career (born in 1900), and her singing ability was modest at best. Thank God she kept at it for our sakes though. Here's a clip from one of her ill fated tv specials. Watching this clip is like giving your frontal cortex a sponge bath of zanax and Doctor Bronner's peppermint soap. Enjoy at your own risk.
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