They’re Not Laughing at Rudolph Any More

Mr. Gene Autry

c/o KSCA-FM (101.9)

6767 Forest Lawn Drive

Los Angeles, CA 90068

Dear Mr. Autry,

We’ve never met, and I’ll let you know straight off that I’m writing to ask a favor. But before I get there, let me just say that I feel I’ve owed you a hearty “Merry Christmas!” for many years now.

As a kid, you see, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was my favorite song of the season. I could sing it right now. No doubt millions of people can do the same thing.

For the man who penned “Back in the Saddle” and so many other fine songs, “Rudolph” may have seemed like just a novelty tune. Or maybe you, the Singing Cowboy, knew all along that the world needed a melodic holiday parable, expressed in a way that children can understand.

Such an unlikely protagonist, this poor, little misfit reindeer named Rudolph. Exactly why he has an abnormal proboscis is unexplained. It seems safe to assume he doesn’t drink. So it is a recessive gene? A birth defect? An accident? Doesn’t matter. What matters is just that he’s different.

And what matters much more, sadly, is how the other reindeer treat Rudolph. They laugh at him. They call him names. They won’t let him play in any reindeer games.

And just because his nose glows.

There are a lot of kids who are scorned for no good reason, and plenty of adults, too. And goodness knows there are many people who, like the other reindeer, lord it over the designated outcasts just to feel superior.

Then comes the turning point of the tale: A foggy Christmas Eve gives Rudolph the break he needs. The wise, kind Santa Claus turns to Rudolph and he makes the most of it. The last gifts delivered, the other reindeer are suddenly fawning all over Rudolph. “You’ll go down in history,” they tell him.

As a hero, they mean. It goes without saying that Rudolph’s new admirers will be remembered for their cruel, petty ways.

Funny thing about this song. A friend says it always bothered him that Rudolph’s tormentors never suffered greater punishment. What he expected, I don’t know. Maybe another verse in which, without Rudolph’s guidance, they are mistaken for enemy aircraft and lose their antlers in a blast of ack-ack. Or maybe he just wanted Rudolph to hear heartfelt apologies.

Most of us, I suspect, didn’t need anything so explicit. We understood that the reindeer must have hauled a heavy burden of shame that night. Chastened, they would surely have sought forgiveness and redemption.

Your song, of course, didn’t eradicate prejudice and cruelty, but maybe it’s made the world a gentler place than it otherwise might be. Just thinking about Rudolph reminds me of the girl--call her Virginia Jones--that we kids snubbed back at Hoover Elementary. Why? Looking back, I just remember that Virginia was a new kid and painfully shy. She came from the wrong side of 17th Street and she seemed to wear the same dress day after day. Boys decided she was ugly, and even the nice girls, the ones who said we shouldn’t be so mean to Virginia, made no attempt to befriend her.

Virginia sat right behind me. Once, passing back some papers, I made a goofy comment and smiled. She smiled, too--a sight I’d never seen before.

Suddenly I was mortified. Quickly I turned, fearful that classmates had spied this brief encounter. I had violated an unspoken code of our classroom: Being nice to Virginia Jones was strictly forbidden. Yet I could also feel the burn of shame--deep inside, I knew it was wrong to be so cruel.

OK, so “Rudolph” didn’t make me alter my actions. But its moral lesson, I suspect, probably stoked my shame.

For that, Mr. Autry, I thank you. This world is short on shame as it is, but “Rudolph” keeps fighting the good fight. (And thank you, incidentally, for the Autry Western Heritage Museum. It’s a swell place.)

Speaking of the good fight, let me get to the other purpose of this holiday greeting. I’d simply just like to add my voice to the thousands of KSCA-FM fans who are distressed by the reports that your company, Golden West Broadcasting, may sell the station to Dallas-based Heftel Inc., which offers Spanish-language radio programming.

Business may be business, and KSCA may not have cracked the top 25 stations in L.A. But it’s only been presenting its “adult alternative” format since ’94. The audience is loyal and word of mouth is growing.

So as you ponder your decision, I’d just ask you to imagine yourself as a young songwriter today, aching to be heard. As singer-songwriter Suzanne Vega recently told The Times’ Steve Hochman: “I know I went out and bought Joan Osborne’s album because I heard her song ‘St. Teresa’ on KSCA long before she was a hit. Everyone I know listened to [KSCA] and talked about it.”

Like a certain someone you’ve celebrated in song, KSCA is small and different. Maybe it just needs more of a chance.

All the best,

Scott Harris

P.S.: You may be curious about whatever happened to Virginia Jones. Me, too. The story I heard was that a young man fresh out of boot camp made her feel special and then made her pregnant. She was 14 and dropped out of school.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to Harris at the Times Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, Calif. 91311. Please include a phone number.