We geezers were talking about the personalities, or lack thereof, on radio today. And that led us to...
"Pork the Tork," "The Daddio of the Raddio," "The Boss Hound of Ground Round," "Your Platter Pushin’ Papa," "The Pied Piper of Platter" or simply "The Boss Man" who "Porkified the Movers and Groovers, Sound Hounds and Cool Ones" with his "Dusty Discs" that were "On Fire" in his "Spinner Sanctum" or at Porkfest. He "Got the Goods From Out of the Woods," and "No One Was Faster Than the Master Blaster."
Carl and Nancy Janusek recalled one famous scat in their 1991 Echoes of the Past - Porky Chedwick, The Pittsburgh Rhythm N Blues Legend: "This Is the Baron of the Groove, the Sultan of the Move, the Supersonic Megatonic Flash With Static From My Dusty Disc Attic." Let's see Wiz top that rap!
Porky's "Golden Ear, Breaking Hits From Year To Year," would "Shatter This Platter" or "Make Your Liver Quiver." He had "More Jams than Smuckers," and "More Lines Than Bell Telephone." His "Name Isn’t George Washington; It’s Pork Torkington."
He reminded listeners that "I’m Not Sergeant York, I'm Pork the Tork." "The Blonde Wonder With the Record Thunder" has seen "More Hops Than the Easter Bunny" and was a "Head Snapper and Dapper Rapper." And when he said "Blow Your Horn," he meant the saxman, not teens behind the wheel!
His audience would lean on their car horns whenever Porky used his catchphrase, or follow his command to “Stop What You’re Doing and Dance” (which his fans did once on the Parkway).
Porky raved over the air "This Record Is On Fire. We're Burning." The Homestead VFD was notified and rushed to the studios. As he explained, "The Double WAMO: This Station Is So Hot, They Gotta Call the Firetrucks Out."
He shut down the Golden Triangle when he broadcast outside the old Stanley Theater in the summer of 1961. Some 8,000-to-10,000 fans showed up. Downtown streets turned into a parking lot until Mayor Joe Barr sent the cops to ask Porky to desist so they could unclog traffic.
In spite, or maybe because of all that, George Jacob Chedwick has been honored by Congress, the State, and local governments with proclamations and plaques. He was recognized as a pioneering DJ by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1992. Smokey Robinson and Bo Diddley credit Porky with launching their careers. The Porkfest was held to honor his legacy. And now he’s playing on web radio, a far cry from the 78s he used to spin at WHOD, with TL.
He may be 93, but Porky's still the Boss Man. And remember, "There's No Pain When the Daddio of the Raddio Fries Your Brain."
The Decade in Oakland wasn't always a rock 'n' roll hall. It started out back in the day as the Oaklander Hotel, and was doing business as the Pizza Pub by the time Dom DiSilvio and his wife Jan Chepes bought it in late 1973.
They renamed the club The Decade. Oddly enough, the decade they honored was the fifties; the venue started out as a restaurant and local bar with oldies acts. Their first featured group was The Brotherhood from Youngstown in October, but the oldies format quickly proved, well, old. Located a hop, skip and a jump from the Cathedral of Learning on Atwood and Sennott, the pair decided to go with the youthful flow and turned to rock 'n' roll.
By the mid-seventies, local bands like Bob Corbin and Dave Hanner's Gravel, Joe Grushecky & the Brick Alley Band (later to become the Houserockers) and Norm Nardini & the Tigers were ripping the place up. Then promoter Danny Kresge talked the pair into turning the Decade into the "Whiskey A Go-Go" of the east and began bringing in up-and coming national acts, which he could book for $500 and under per appearance.
The opening show was played by David Johansen of the New York Dolls, followed by the Ramones (the only touring band to ever play consecutive nights at the venue) in March, 1979, and there was no turning back.
The acts that took the stage at the Decade included Sting and The Police, Bono and U2, Stevie Ray Vaughan, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Pat Benatar, Chrissie Hynde and The Pretenders, Cindi Lauper, Jimmy Vaughan and the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Koko Taylor, The Romantics, Meat Loaf, and Joe Jackson. The club drew some unannounced guests, too.
The night before his two sold out Arena shows in September, 1984, Bruce Springsteen and his bud Joe Grushecky hooked up. The Boss felt like chowing a hot dog, so Joe took him to the Oakland O, where he was mobbed.
After escaping, they went to Grushecky’s car and Springsteen spotted the Decade. Asking Joe if that wasn’t the club he played in, the Boss decided to pay a visit. Bon Ton Roulet was performing, and Springsteen & Grushecky hopped up on the stage with the band, playing a three song set of “Lucille,” “Raise Your Hand” and “Gloria.”
Three years later, in March, 1987, Jon Bon Jovi joined his ‘Burgh running mate Norm Nardini after an Arena show and played a 50 minute set with Pittsburgh’s “Love Dog.” It was just a favor being repaid: earlier in the evening, Nardini had shared the Igloo stage with Bon Jovi for CCR’s “Travelin’ Band.”
Stevie Ray Vaughan, who played the Decade a couple of times, also dropped into the club after a Syria Mosque gig and sat in for a three-song set with Bon Ton Roulet.
There were, of course, other stories like when local punkers Carsickness got into a fistfight with the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1984 over a tipsy girlfriend who fell into the RHCP’s drum kit. We wouldn’t want to forget the night in 1992 when Billy Price’s buds - Jack Nicholson and Danny DeVito, in town to shoot the movie Hoffa - stopped by to catch the show and down some tequila. Houserocker roadie Bob Boyer’s ashes were buried under the Decade stage, too. His resting spot was said to have scared a Louisiana zydeco player from performing, fearful of stirring up some bad voodoo juju.
Dom and Jan didn't forget the local bands, either. Competing with DJ'ed disco joints like Zelda's Greenhouse, the Decade kept the volume pumped up by showcasing Kenny Blake's King Solomon, The Mystic Knights of the Sea, Red Hot & Blue, Bon Ton Roulet, 8th Street Rox and Billy Price & the Keystone Rhythm Band. The list goes on, with the Silencers, Donny Iris and Diamond Reo, plus the previously mentioned Gravel, Grushecky, and Nardini.
The Mystic Knights, as the story goes, came together as pick-up band in 1984 when DiSilvio approached guitarist Warren King to form an "all-star" group to pump up the club's slow Monday nights. And the Kingfish did, in spades.
The result was the Mystic Knights of the Sea, originally composed of King (Houserockers, Diamond Reo, The Silencers, Red Hot & Blue), vocalist/drummer Ron "Byrd" Foster (The Igniters, Roy Buchanan's Band, the Houserockers, the Silencers, Kingsnake Allstars), guitarist Bryan Bassett (Wild Cherry, Molly Hatchet, and Foghat) and keyboardist Gil Snyder.
While the bills may have been top flight, the club itself was a nondescript brick building, a hardy home for what DiSilvio called a "Wild West saloon." It held 400 fans if the fire marshall turned his back, and they paid a beefy doorman $2 to get in. The crowd was generally a mix of college and working kids at night, while it was popular Pitt lunch spot by day.
It had two rooms, a front bar and back stage. It was cramped with a low ceiling that sported a jury-rigged acoustic system - parachutes! The bar was topped in copper, and the tables and stools were few and far between. Some nights, the blood boiling combination of deafening music, tight quarters, the college-blue collar mix and a few beers made the club's bouncers more of a main act than the band. In other words, it was the epitome of a perfect Pittsburgh rock 'n' roll bar.
But all good things must come to an end. Faced with increased competition and tax problems, the Decade's 22 year run came to a close. Appropriately, Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers played the last show at the club on August 21st, 1995 when its final curtain fell.
But the Decade’s legend lived on, at least in memory. In 2009, the original Iron City Houserockers held a reunion gig at the Altar Bar to honor Dom DiSilvio and the Decade era. And old rockers will recall the corner of Roc 'n' Rol as fondly as sixties AM teens remember the corner of Walk and Don't Walk.
The building still exists; after a few reincarnations, it's now The Garage Door Saloon. It looks much the same; stop in and maybe you'll catch Bob Boyer roaming the back room stacking amps.
(The ultimate article on the Decade was penned by the Post-Gazette's Scott Mervis in 1993, "Two Decades of the Decade," and provided much of the color for this post.)
