Far Side of Herman : Peter Noone, formerly of Hermits’ fame, will perform two shows at the Ventura County Fair.

Herman Hesse, Herman Melville and Herman Munster didn’t have any choice. And a parent could almost be convicted of cruel and unusual punishment for laying a tag like that on a darling little gum-chewing ferret. Imagine someone becoming a “Herman” on purpose.

“I guess I’ll always be ‘Herman,’ ” said Peter Noone, the Herman of Herman’s Hermits. “I got the name from the ‘Rocky and Bullwinkle’ show. There was a part of the show about Peabody the dog and his boy, Sherman. This was in about 1964, and everybody thought I looked like Sherman, except we thought his name was Herman.”

And what the critics said about his music, well, it shouldn’t happen to a dog. Herman’s Hermits made music so lightweight that the listener needed to wear magnet shoes to keep from floating to the ceiling. They were two-minute pop gems, just like real rock ‘n’ roll but without the rage, the lip and the violence.

While the Beatles were, at first, cute, and the Stones scruffy, Herman’s Hermits were, well, geeky. Along with Freddy & the Dreamers, they were as wild as Mr. Rogers saying, “Darn it.” The bubble-gum contingent of the British Invasion.

“Back then, everyone had to have a different thing,” said Noone. “We did different types of shows than other bands. The Beatles wrote songs. The Stones did rhythm and blues. We did pop love songs.”

The band made their splash in 1964, then hung around until 1972, releasing seven albums that sold about 50 million copies. They had 14 gold singles that included “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat,” “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” and “I’m Henry VIII, I Am.”

Remember Beatlemania? How about Hermania? Today there are no fake Hermits traveling around doing “Silhouettes.” But Herman himself, although Hermit-less, will be tripping out of that time warp Saturday at the Ventura County Fair for a free show (after admission) on a stage named for a beer (the Budweiser Stage). It’ll happen twice--at 7 and 9 p.m.

Noone was a student at the Manchester College of Music, then went in and out of a bunch of bands before watching that fateful “Rocky and Bullwinkle” episode. He was a whole 15 years old when Hermania began in 1964 with the release of “I’m Into Something Good,” which reached a healthy No. 13 on the U. S. charts. Herman and his toothy grin were clearly the focus of the group. In fact, on the band’s second album, the names of the Hermits aren’t even listed.

“It was a very nice time to be British,” said Noone, who has done well enough to live in Santa Barbara. “It was a very nice time to be touring, except then, you had to have actual records instead of just a video on MTV. We made good, fun music, and we did good live shows. All of our songs had been played a lot of times before they were ever recorded. And people still like my songs, although some people’s mothers have all my records.”

Remember the Beatles’ movies? Sure. Remember the Herman’s Hermit’s movies? Nope? Well, they made two in the ‘60s, “Hold On!” and “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter.”

The band sold more records than the Beatles in 1965, and the Stones opened for them once. But the inevitable creative differences took their toll. Twenty years ago, the Hermits went their separate ways.

Noone now employs a band whose members live in New York. They do two or three gigs per week, usually at festivals, fairs or universities--the typical places where the eternal Glad to Be Working Tour creaks to a temporary stop.

Yet Noone is not tied to the good ol’ days. He’s the host of a hit show, “My Generation,” broadcast daily on music-video channel VH-1. He spends about a week a month in New York, where he records a month’s worth of shows. He’s also working on a new album, produced by one of the Ramones, which should be out next summer.

“It’s still just as difficult to make it in the music business as it ever was,” said Noone. “My 17-year-old brother is in a band, and it’s the same thing. The first thing is not to get signed but to get work. You need to play as many gigs as you can. You’re supposed to know how to play your instruments.”

This interview was conducted under great, though unavoidable, duress. The Dodgers, who almost never win, were, during this interview, beating the Reds like a drum. Both of us, it turned out were watching the game, but were interrupted constantly by all this telephone exposition.

“Yeah, I lived in the Valley for 10 years, and the last seven in Santa Barbara,” Noone said. “I’ve been a Dodger fan even when they used to be good--like last year. But they’re doing OK tonight, huh?”

So said the man named after a dog’s boy about the team that has been playing, oh boy, like dogs.