Lost in the Funhouse_ The Life and Mind of Andy Kaufman - Bill Zehme [21]
Ohh!
Right away, he liked this song very very much. It would, in fact, never ever leave his life. It rarely even left his head for very long.
In this friendly friendly world …
He heard it as a gentle anthem of kindness …
With each day so full of joyyyyyy …
And understanding …
Why should any heart be lonelyyyy …
And not making fun of people who were different …
The world is such a won-der-ful place to wander throuuugh …
Like reallyreally different …
When you’ve got someone you love to wander along with youuu …
Slow haunting corny rhythm put him in the mind of people—all kinds of people—locking arms and swaying back and forth and being very very, well, friendly with one another. It was probably the quietest, most earnest song Fabian would ever sing (so strange), a saccharine message song he had sung in the movie Hound Dog Man (not about Elvis), and it went all the way to number twelve on the radio charts just a few weeks before Christmas 1959. Andy learned the words instantly, played it over and over again, sang along and beat along, very gently, on the twin bongo drums he had asked his father to buy him. (Actually, he wanted a big set of congas, but was encouraged to start small, to which he grudgingly agreed.) He would beat along to most every song he played on his phonograph, which his mother made him move all the way downstairs to the small den, so as to not disturb the house or little Carol’s afternoon naps, especially now with all the drumming. He could not stop the drumming. It didn’t matter which of his records was on the turntable: “I’m Sorry” by Brenda Lee (#15), “That’s Why (I Love You So)” by Jackie Wilson (#20), “Muskrat Ramble” by Freddy Cannon (#26), “The Twist” by Chubby Checker (#31), “Alley Oop” by Dante and the Evergreens (#33), “Theme from A Summer Place” by Percy Faith & Orchestra (#39), “Sink the Bismarck” by Homer and Jethro (#41), “The Chipmunk Song” by David Seville and the Chipmunks (#50). He kept drumming and drumming and then he found Olatunji’s Drums of Passion long-playing album and the drumming got wilder and more fun and he had to get his own conga drum now and his father finally relented (they got it in Greenwich Village) and he would stand in front of the large narrow drum on its three-legged pedestal and pretend he was Olatunji, very tall, very black, a West African possessed of mad new/old rhythms, and he beat along until he knew exactly when to thump hard (palm of hand) and when to thump softly (fingertips) and he would close his eyes while he beat and there was nothing else in the world and he imagined how his thumps could transform people and make them deliriously uninhibited and forgetful of all worries and problems and he just got very very extremely lost.
He banged on the Wamagadoon and as he did it made him feel happier and happier. The instrument contained some magical quality which made tones, tunes, and sounds that moved through one’s soul with such a joyous carefree quality that one just felt more and more waves of bliss going through his or her body and soul, no matter how young or old, no matter how smart or ignorant. These waves were felt especially by the person perpetrating them; that is, playing the instrument, which in this case was Huey…. He was too shy to sing at first, so he just played, and the children, feeling these unavoidable waves of happiness, got up and danced. After a while, the intensity of the feeling in the room became so high and Huey felt so good that he actually did start singing. “Come on, we’re playing the Wamagadoon,