It's Green Up Day here in Vermont, a day when homes are emptied of basement detritus that has accumulated over the winter, a day when old refrigerators, washing machines, forklifts, cathode ray refractors, servomechanical flensers, automatic abattoir analyzers, isotronic magnetohydrodynamometers and other household appliances are carted to the local solid waste management facility and bid a fair fondwell, as opposed to hauling it to the edge of town under cover of darkness and dumping it into a stream already choked with toxic carp. Today, when that boy or girl scout rings your doorbell and asks for a donation -- and don't be put off by the camouflage fatigues they're sporting or the sophisticated weaponry, some of which could stop a B-57 in its flight path, they're toting -- give freely of those old magnetrons and orthicons sitting around gathering dust. And don't feel shy about parting with that '49 DeSoto roadster on blocks out in the front yard, either. You know you'll probably never find an acetylene piston oscillator to fit. Give it to the scouts and you'll have one less large inanimate object to landscape around. Why, if we didn't set aside such a day to unload irrelevant items every couple of years, Vermont would be knee deep in unregulated personal landfills.

Green Up Day plays an equally important role in the world of music in general, and on this 206th episode of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Bazaar in particular. For today is when we take tunes that have lost their relevance, their fascination or their seductiveness and dump them into the virtual burn pile. One could, for example, equate any symphony composed during the transition years of 1969 and 1970 with that '49 DeSoto. Like the roadster, it may have been a fine little entity in its day, but that day belongs in the past. These days, there are better ways to get a musical idea from here to there, such as a shopping cart. The piece, too, was probably recorded under the aegis of the composer's college alumni association which has regretted it ever since. So we're doing everyone a favor by taking it to the dump.

And today, as a special feature, we're extending the green up musical motif to you, our listening audient. Surely you, too, have a composition that you can no longer relate to, a piece that's so out of touch that you're just a bit peeved that we've reminded you of it. Well then, call us right now at 802-GLIPSOB and tell us what tune -- from twelve-tone to process music, from aleatoric to country and western -- you never want to hear again, and we'll do our best not to play it. To sweeten the pot for both of us, you may at the same time pledge your fiduciary support to this radio program and at the same time fill that hole in your basement caused by the removal of the forklift with a very nice premium, complements of this station.

Think of yourselves as teeth. The music that you're weary of hearing is the plaque. Today is your annual dental checkup. And we're your floss. If you don't make use of our clean up expertise today, you may need a root canal tomorrow. Worse, you may incur the orthodontic annoyance of the devil-may-caries Kalvos.