Several months ago, I suggested we watch the Three Degrees perform MacArthur Park because it is truly wonderful, and now I suggest we watch four of the fluffiest bimbettes of the King family perform a relentlessly cheery song that even Mama Cass couldn't save in her hit cover of it. In 1969 so many different things were co-percolating in music. British invasion, Motown, folk, rock, etc. (Think of the diversity of Woodstock!) All of which was totally ignored by the King Family as they pranced and made pretty with pillows. I could not suffer this all the way to the end. Can you?
PS: I saw this on Postcards From Hell's Kitchen, a durably good blog that I don't visit often enough and whose custodian I think I may have met in the blur of the last five years.