Henry the Eighth and the Bernie Bus
by KENNETH E. HALL APRIL 27, 2021
My memories of the Sixties are wide and varied; “they go from the sublime to the ridiculous” as my PawPaw would have said. One on the ridiculous side was of a novelty song that was released in June of 1965 and topped the charts at #2 on July 14 of that same year.
♫ Herman's Hermits recorded this song after their track "Mrs. Brown You've Got a Lovely Daughter" shot to #1 in the USA. Looking to follow it up with another old-timey single, they came up with a really obscure tune: "I'm Henry The VIII, I Am," which they had played before on stage. It worked, and the song rocketed to #1, incredibly knocking The Rolling Stones "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction) off the top spot.
Wow!
♫ Here are those deep and most intellectual lyrics, as I remember them:
I'm ‘Enery the eighth I am ‘Enery the eighth I am, I am I got married to the widow next door She's been married seven times before And every one was an ‘Enery (‘Enery!) She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (nor a Sam!) I'm her eighth old man, I'm ‘Enery, ‘Enery the eighth I am!
Second verse - same as the first!
The original "I'm Henery The Eighth, I Am" dated way back to 1910 and, as I understand, had several verses, but the Herman's Hermits’ rendition has only one, which they repeated three times ("second verse, same as the first"). That is because the band only knew the one verse, (which is actually the chorus!)
This was the height of the British Invasion, and it was much more than just the Beatles that crowded every juke box and radio playlist. This song was a “BubbleGum” song - it appealed to the teenyboppers, and definitely had the mid-Sixties sound - catchy, simple lyrics, British (Cockney) accents, and a band consisting of twangy electric guitars and a drum. This was a far cry from the synthesized buzzing, wailing, discordant music which was yet to come.
No, the music didn’t die - it just changed, as did we all.
Henry the Eighth, which was constantly heard on all top hit radio stations, began with a tinny lead guitar riff which later brought something else to my mind: a gimmick they called the “Bernie Bus”.
Just about a half year after old ‘Enery the Eighth had had his musical Fifteen Minutes of Fame, a local auto dealership in New Orleans East launched a major publicity campaign to publicize its new suburban location.
♫ Their radio jingle, which was also constantly played at this time went: “... In a brand-new Bernie-Dumas automobile! Go to 4600 Chef Menteur Highway - Get MORE save MORE the Bernie DU-MAS WAY! - See Bernie Dumas today!”
At this time, radio jingles were all the rage; just about every company that advertised had some silly, simplistic, and repetitious tune to get people to remember them or their product or service. K&B Drug Stores, Time Saver, Caloric Gas, Dixie Beer and others had catchy little mnemonic songs which I happened to like. I went everywhere with the Sony transistor radio that my grandfather bought in Japan, and if I was not listening to music, I was humming or singing it, much to my poor PawPaw’s chagrin.
“LET UP!” he’d holler. “I swear, you’re the LIMIT! You sound like a broken record!” he’d often bellyache. Although he was usually a good sport and put up with his rambunctious 13-year-old grandson on Saturdays, he hated radios and TV’s. He had been confined to bed in a large hospital ward just a couple of years before, and during his stay his poor ears were bombarded with a cacophony of radios and television sets all blaring at once, wailing well into the night. (Where's a bossy head nurse when you need one??) Now he was free of all that noise and here I come along and pester him by singing: ♫“Forty Five, Forty-five, Forty five, Forty Five, the Beer that makes you feel alive, you just can’t brew a finer beer than Dixie Forty Five!” I guess it was enough to drive anyone batty!
Besides a catchy jingle, though, Bernie-Dumas Buick had just relocated way out to the middle of nowhere - to an undeveloped area along Chef Menteur Highway, and had to get the word out. Someone at the dealership came up with a “crap-brained idea” (to quote my grand- father): they painted a large courtesy bus and ran it from somewhere downtown on Canal Street all the way out to their new place in New Orleans East, and provided rides free of charge. It was called “The Bernie Bus”. It was apparently supposed to bring in busloads of people ready to buy cars, but when I saw it, it was empty, and I doubt it ever hauled very many people.
Whenever I’d hear the opening riff of “Henry the Eighth, I Am!” I’d sing along with it: “Bernie Bus! Bernie Bus!” just for fun - a silly song for an even sillier idea.
After a few months, Herman's Hermits faded from the radio, and likewise the Bernie Bus rolled into the garage for the last time and was repainted and sold, its mission accomplished.
The Beatles might have described it thusly:
"It was a real nowhere van,
driving to a nowhere land,
making all its nowhere plans for nobody."
Life goes on, and we all moved on with ours. It’s been many years since I’ve thought about 1965. This little memory was a nice one of a simpler time that was not always too pleasant. The other day I heard this song and remembered just where I was and what I was doing - and remembered “Henry the Eighth” and the “Bernie Bus”.
