IS IT SEALS OR IS IT MEMOREX? ALL i KNOW IS, DON'T ASK ME ...

I apologize, Dan Seals. I shouldn't have written it, and I'm sorry.

There. I've done it. Now that I have that off my chest, perhaps that sin is expiated, perhaps life can continue. An explanation is in order.

In a review of a country music concert at the Show Me Center last fall, I clumsily mused on the authenticity, or lack thereof, of two numbers performed by opening act Dan Seals, who's widely known as a fine musician. My thinking out loud on what might be called "the Milli Vanilli syndrome", from a concert review published October 22, 1990, was expressed in these words:

"Perhaps I've been made cynical by verified reports of performers lip-synching and otherwise faking various performing feats during "live" concerts these days, but I couldn't help but wonder ...

"Were we witness to Seals really playing the tenor sax so vigorously, as he seemed to be, with such passion and energy? Or was it still another of the petty corruptions of our time, that was in fact taped and mimed oh-so-perfectly, for our benefit? I don't purport to know. But isn't it sad that we can no longer be sure?"

Who would ever have guessed that such a seemingly unremarkable observation would take on a life of its own? Who would have thought that this forgettable line would garner mention in two slick national publications of the country music industry? Who would have guessed that a nationally syndicated television show, "Crook and Chase", would ask the respected Mr. Seals himself to comment on this remark of a small town newspaper reviewer, who is not only unknown to him, but who stands no chance whatever of becoming the Siskel or the Ebert of country music reviews? I mean, this was not exactly the country music equivalent of Pauline Kael, whose movie reviews in The New Yorker can mean millions.

Well, in fact all this did occur.

First, last fall, the Music City News took notice of my throwaway comment. In a brief article under a headline that asked "Is it Seals or is it Memorex?", the writer repeated the above-quoted line from my review, before assuring readers that Seals plays his own sax. "Perhaps," the article speculated, "the confusion arose from the fact that a wireless microphone had been placed inside the saxaphone."

Next, it was Crook and Chase's turn, on their nationally syndicated TV show, which, one supposes, must surely covering Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About The Country Music Scene And More. I'm no regular viewer, but friends tell me that the co-hosts were interviewing Dan Seals on their program when they asked him about my idle musings. Seals smiled as he turned aside the whole deal, explained the wireless microphone, and graciously allowed as how it was no big deal, and merely an innocent misunderstanding, etc.

That was months ago, and I thought my 15 minutes of fame that the late Andy Warhol said is everyone's birthright had finally expired. I was wrong; this corpse had some more twitching to do.

Last week, a co-worker who subscribes to the Country Music Magazine stuck under my nose the current issue, which to my horror, contained still another article focusing on this non-event. This reference was especially flattering to me. "Somebody named Peter Kinder, at the Southeast Missourian," the writer sniffed, "has suggested ..." as a prelude to the third recounting, and debunking, of what had now become an Incident. Oh well.

My favorite remark was that of a dear friend from Dallas, an old classmate far more knowledgable of things musical than I, to whom I related the whole silly episode. He smiled at me and observed, "Kinder, it's just your luck to have the artist you picked to wonder about be a guy (Seals) who plays about 20 instruments, all of them well ..."

Fair enough. Dan Seals is vindicated, his reputation intact, as far as I have anything to say on the matter. He is a fine and versatile musician. I enjoyed his concert and would go see him again. Let's hope that we've seen the end of this earthshaking event. Lesson learned.