I loved when he tuned in the radio on the windows sill with the puppet Pookie. It was a pop culture explosion– bits of teen hits of the day, followed by old time radio like The Shadow, The Hindenburg, and audio skits recorded for the radio bit, etc.

The song, “Do the Mouse”  was hilarious, as was the dance, which it was supposed to be– defining “irony” as a form of humor where bad equals good… or something.

When he returned from his suspension (for asking the kiddies to go through their New Year’s Eve hung-over parents clothes for pictures of George Washington) he blasted “Happy Days are Here Again” and showed film of silent movie pie fights, car crashes, etc. for almost five minutes before walking on set.

I did attend his big Soupy Sales Easter show at the Paramount Theater which featured The Hollies, Little Richard (and his guitar player, Jimi Hendrix), and as they say, many others.

Almost every TV show he did– five days a week– was outlined, but not scripted. And for all the hub-bub, he was only on in New York for two years.

But I think his kind of show– outlined, live, adlibbed, supposedly for kiddies, but really for teens who wanted to be treated like adults– was the exit point for the afternoon kiddy show and the entry point for things like SNL and “Fridays”– on the air barely ten years later. Letterman and Conan followed.

Just more proof that creativity is a continuum. Thanks, Soupy.

Fagan reminisces about growing up in central New Jersey listening to "Shep" on WOR 710 on your am dial in the sixties. (Sounds familiar.)

He reflects on his parents not thinking much of that weirdo Shepherd, despite Shepherd and the parents probably being about the same age. (Check.)

He describes the difference between the 5 night a week studio Shepherd– intimate, personal, one-to-one) with the live performer– bombastic, a bit too loud, a bit too desperate for approval. (Yup. Listen to any of Sheherd's "live shows" from night clubs or college campuses.)

And he contrasts thye almost treacly sentiment of "A Christmas Story" with Shepherd's other works…his radio narratives, his PBS films on which "A Christmas Story" was modeled, even his "short story" collections based primarily on his radio stories. Unlike "Christmas Story", these had an "edge."

Deep down, the real Jean Shepherd was far more complex, his story far more bittersweet, and he perhaps far more bitter than he let on.

The internet is a wonderful thing. By its very existance, I know now that some of the longing and loss so appealling to me in Fagan's music (New Frontier, anyone? Deacon Blues?) comes from a source of my own view on life. Central Jersey in the early sixties, Jean Shepherd, cold war paranoia….

I wonder if he watched Soupy Sales.

For more on Jean Shepherd, go to the comprehensive Jean Shepherd tribute site, "Flick Lives."

Also, grab a copy of Eugene Bergmann's incredible analysis of Shepherd and his works,"Excelsior, You Fatheads." 
Yup, that's the title. It's a quote from the enigma himself.

Adding to the movement is a gas station on Union Square (gas is 30 cents cheaper in New Jersey) and a frieght train line that crosses Main Street, hosting 3-5  freight trains a day.

And yet, if you look at it right (and I look at it everyday) it’s very poetic.

This is a time elapse view of four hours in the life of that bridge.

Union Square, Phillipsburg, NJ, 4:30 pm from brienlee on Vimeo.

Shot and edited by Brien Lee