Tokin’ With Lawrence Welk

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Only on The Lawrence Welk Show could “One Toke Over the Line” somehow become a “modern spiritual.”

In 1971, Gail Farrell and Dick Dale performed the Brewer & Shipley song on the show, giving it the clean-cut Welk treatment. The funny part came afterward, when Lawrence Welk referred to it as a modern spiritual, apparently not realizing the “toke” in the title was not exactly Sunday-morning church material.

It does not seem like someone deliberately pulled one over on Welk. It was probably more of a perfect generational misunderstanding: a hit song with the word “Jesus” in the chorus made it onto one of TV’s cleanest shows, and everyone smiled through it like it belonged there.

That is what makes the clip so unforgettable. It is a perfect little time capsule of early 1970s television, where a song with counterculture roots could be polished up, dressed up, and served with champagne bubbles.

Columbia House: 11 Albums For A Dollar

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Columbia House was how I started my record collection. 11 albums for just one dollar! What a bargain, until you forgot to send in the postcard saying you didn’t want the automatic shipment and wound up with an Engelbert Humperdinck album the next month. Not that there’s anything wrong with him, just not exactly a 17-year-old’s style.

That was the Columbia House magic and the Columbia House trap. The club pulled you in with a ridiculous opening deal, then made its money when you bought more albums at regular club prices, or when you forgot to decline the monthly selection.

Columbia House started as the Columbia Record Club in 1955 and became huge through mail-order records, tapes, and later CDs. The music club side shut down in 2009, after BMG bought and folded it into its own operation. The company kept going for a while as a DVD/Blu-ray club, but its parent filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2015, after years of declining revenue and a music world that had moved to downloads and streaming.

Looking back, Columbia House was part bargain, part lesson in fine print, and part rite of passage. For a lot of us, it was the first time the mailman delivered music we actually wanted — and sometimes music we absolutely did not.

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