Just in case your Easter didn't have a slight nightmarish edge yet, darlings, this very special moment in television history should take care of that, pronto.
Yes, from 1968, it's the lovely and talented Miss Jo Ann Castle and her ragtime piano, not to mention a pair of terrifying Dalek-like Easter eggs and even an introduction from our host, Mr. Lawrence Welk, who runs neck-and-neck with Mr. Ed Sullivan in his complete inability to feign the least bit of enthusiasm on camera.
As for poor Jo Ann, well, rarely have I seen a performance every glance and grimace of which so clearly telegraphs "Shoot me. Shoot me now." Castle had a life of JohnWatersische tumult, horror, and twisted glamor, and this kind of thing can't have helped.
I've never been terribly attached to Easter, for no particular reason except that in our hometown the weather so rarely matched the spring colors and clothes associated with the holiday. In a good year it was a relief that Easter marked the transition of from winter to summer Sunday clothes, but far more often it just meant weeks of cold legs (it will come as no surprise, I suspect, to know that I was kept in short pants for great occasions, practically until the very verge of puberty) in the absence of knee socks. At least after about seven, my parents were at length convinced that even the most upright of Presbyterians wouldn't require their male offspring into black-patent Mary Janes, time having long since decisively marched past that particular fashion affectation. It didn't bring me into the '60s, quite, but it did cut down on the peer abuse in Sunday school. Small mercies, I know, but of such are many a childhood made.
But at least I never had to face a vast and manic Easter bunny with the face of a dipso blonde and a way with ragtime piano, so I can at least count that blessing...