THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, April 15, 1995 TAG: 9504140047
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JON FRANK, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 100 lines
TO LEGIONS of talk-radio listeners, the slightly out-of-kilter strains of reveille suddenly coming across the airwaves can mean only one thing:
Earl Pitts, American, is about to begin one of his humorous redneck rants.
It's a satirical version of the short radio form pioneered by Paul Harvey and refined by Jack Whitaker and Charles Osgood. The difference is that Earl's commentaries are, first and foremost, funny. At least to those who find the redneck viewpoint - described as a glorious absence of sophistication by one pundit - to be more humorous than offensive.
``Earl usually has the right answer,'' said Gary Burbank, Pitts' creator and alter ego. ``But he has a whacked-out way of arriving at it.''
Burbank, a native of Mississippi, is a Cincinnati radio personality who developed the Earl Pitts character during a 30-year radio career. In addition to Cincinnati, Burbank has worked at stations in Memphis, Detroit and Louisville.
Burbank's approach has earned him a national radio audience. The two-minute Earl Pitts radio spots, heard in Hampton Roads on WNIS, are played in markets across the United States. And the live, drive-time radio show that showcases Earl Pitts and other Burbank comedy characters is being syndicated as a radio comedy show. It's been purchased for play in cities from West Virginia to Florida.
Burbank also has attracted interest from television producer Brandon Tartikoff, who wants Earl Pitts to be part of a television program conceived as a country version of Fox's ``In Living Color.''
But it is the radio spots that define the Earl Pitts character. Pitts' lead-ins for each of them are two rhetorical questions: ``You know what makes me sick?'' and ``You know what makes me so angry that I . . . ?''
Then comes an Earl exaggeration that usually has a political subtext. Such as: ``You know what makes me so sick that I want to force-feed Al Gore a spotted owl cheeseburger?''
The radio spots that follow range from politics, religion and feminism to the manly pursuits of swilling beer and chasing women.
But underlying almost all of Earl's commentaries is a straight shot at what conservatives everywhere love to hate - the politically correct liberal.
What else could you expect from a blue-collar transmission factory worker with a wife named Pearl, a best friend named Dub, a voice that careens from Johnny Cash to Elvis and a mind that mixes Archie Bunker with Monty Python?
To aficionados, that makes an Earl Pitts commentary an occasion to turn up the radio. Less enthusiastic listeners are more likely to change the station.
``It is one of the beauties of Earl Pitts,'' Burbank said. ``Half of the people believe what he is saying and half the people are laughing at him.
``In the beginning, there would be a few people who would be offended. But I think that after they actually listen to it, then they realize that I am Southern, too. . . . If you are a member of that group, it is OK to lampoon it, at least to some people. To me I think it is OK to lampoon anybody you want to. I'm an equal opportunity lampoonist.''
The Earl Pitts character hits two birds with one stone. While he attacks the politically correct, he lovingly lampoons the antithesis of the politically correct - the redneck.
According to Burbank, most listeners eventually learn to enjoy the lampooning and realize there often is a core of common sense to a Pitts commentary.
For the uninitiated, here are some Earl Pitts moments:
On Native Americans complaining about being namesakes of sports teams: ``Native Americans say the Atlanta Braves name don't accurately reflect the history of their culture. You know, they're right. The Braves win.''
On picking up women: ``It's a lot like fishin'. . . . The first rule of bimbo angling is finding just the right spot. Some bars is stocked with champion trophy catches and some bars is stocked with bottom feeders. It's tough to catch a striper in a pond full of carp. And number two is you got to have the right equipment. Like me. I use 120-pound test line. You hook into something bigger and you could break your rod, if you know what I mean. Number three, you got to showcase the bait. The lure is the most important thing. I prefer the splash of Aqua Velva.''
The Earl Pitts list of fears that all men can understand: ``1. The fear of catching a suggestive wink across a crowded bar. From another man. 2. The fear the guys in the locker room shower will give you the nickname of `Tiny.' 3. The fear you won't be able to find your 7/16 socket when you really need it. 4. The fear they'll cancel `American Gladiators.' 5. And of course, the big one. You're playing softball, third base, right, and you're not wearing your cup. You take a big sip of beer and about that time, whap, a line drive coming right where your cup should have been. . . . Now that's fear.''
The Earl Pitts character is also developing commercial and political appeal. Burbank ran Earl for governor of Ohio several years ago. He got thousands of votes, 15,000 alone in Hamilton County, where Cincinnati is located. Other campaigns are possible, says Burbank, who also produced a bumper sticker that says: ``Don't blame me. I voted for Earl Pitts.''
And Earl has become a pitchman. Burbank has been hired to sell American trucks and has developed a series of ads based on two of Earl's prejudices: the superiority of ``Uhmerican technology,'' and the superiority of men over women.
In the ads, Burbank says, Earl puts his hand on a big American truck and says in his deepest Johnny Cash voice: ``Man truck.''
Then he turns to a compact, foreign-made truck, puts his hand on it and says in a high-pitched, mocking-female voice: ``Woman truck.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
by CNB