And so 2026 has arrived after a year's worth of some of the most devastating losses in music and culture we've seen yet, and already it's proving to be more of the same shit, and once again, this time the tragedy has REALLY hit me hard. Floyd Vivino passed away on January 22nd at the age of 74 from a series of very recent health issues including cancer and a stroke. Of course, if you're reading this, you know who he was and what he's famous for, especially if you're a Jersey boy. So I'll just cut right to the chase and add my own stories of growing up a major Floyd fan to the growing list of other fans' personal memories of the man. His is a devastating loss to all of us.
I first encountered Uncle Floyd one fine cold December morning in 1978, in the small auditorium of Gilbert Avenue Elementary School in my hometown of Elmwood Park, New Jersey. The school had booked him to do a special performance for the kids for Christmas, and we all packed ourselves into the room for his show. I'd seen the name "Uncle Floyd" before, several times in the listings of my local TV Guide. But there was never any description of the show except the word "Children" next to its name, which made me think that it was something my newly teenage self (I'd just turned 13) was too old for by that point, and so I had never bothered to investigate further 'til then.
Boy, was I wrong. Out came this crazy nerdy guy with this crazy wooden puppet named Oogie, and for the next half hour or so I laughed my ass off. He was wild, and he was zany, and he was pure New Jersey on top of it all, and I totally, completely dug it straight off the bat. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only kid who walked out of his performance a fresh new Uncle Floyd fan. And that very same day, when I got home from school, I knew what I had to do. I finally watched The Uncle Floyd Show for the very first time, and that's when I fully got it, in the course of another half hour of laughing my ass off -- a bonafide PUNK ROCK TV show!
I'm not just talking about the musical talent featured on his show, which I'll get to in a second. I'm talking about the full, top-to-bottom presentation of the show itself, low-budget, DIY, raw and with a wide margin for error... just like punk rock itself. Those once-mysterious TV Guide listings were now the most important part of every issue to me as I scrambled to keep up with the show's schedule, which for awhile seemed to change every month. They even had him on at 8 in the morning for awhile, which would be typical for a "children's" show, but this was no kid show even if its host was playing school auditoriums. Unless, of course, you expanded the definition of it to include folks who weren't exactly "kids," but you get the picture, I'm sure...
Now, again, as a punk I instantly related to Uncle Floyd's brand of off-the-wall TV. I also happened to be a huge Ramones fan. So when I tuned one night into my then-favorite radio station WPIX (which for one glorious year and a half championed punk and new wave like no other commercial station had before) to hear the Ramones proclaim themselves Floyd fans and plug upcoming appearances on the show, my jaw dropped to the floor. What a coincidence, my favorite band on my new favorite show! It all made perfect sense to me, and as it turned out, so many other punks both local and national were seeing the big picture as I did, including the other punks in my high school! So of course I caught all the Ramones' appearances and made a cassette tape from my little TV speaker of them, which I still have along with a few of Floyd's comedy bits (including Joe Frankfutter and Cowboy Charlie, my two favorite characters) which surely would be lost to time otherwise.
I also caught several more of Uncle Floyd's personal appearances during this period. I saw him perform at Ken's Magic Shop, the show's primary sponsor, which was also Floyd's bearded sidekick Scott Gordon's day job. I went to an autograph session at Looney Tunez Records, another sponsor which was run by future members of Dramarama, and still have my signed photo of Floyd and Oogie from that day. And I saw him with the full cast twice at Clifton High School's auditorium, two fantastic Friday night shows in '79 and '80 which only years later I learned future Adrenalin OD drummer Dave Schwartzman helped organize. (I would go on to damn near get killed on that same stage in a stunt gone wrong during AOD's very first live performance there a year or two later... but that's another story.)
But of course, all of what I've told here so far merely scratches the surface of what a distinctly Jersey phenomenon the Uncle Floyd Show was. And as for punk rock, he was keenly aware of the aesthetic similarities between what he and the new bands were doing and he dug it. No further proof of this is needed than the fact that the Ramones were just one of literally hundreds of bands who appeared on the show as musical guests. It was a time when so much great new music was happening and I was absorbing it all like a sponge. There's a list circulating on Floyd's Facebook fan site which is striving to list EVERY band which ever played, which may never turn out to be complete, and it's far more convenient for me to refer you to said list than make a big list of my own here. Suffice it to say that the show was every local band's dream gig, and I made a few wonderful discoveries through Floyd's exposure of them, and TV Toy, WKGB and Fats Deacon & the Dumbwaiters remain personal favorites of mine.
But my favorite Uncle Floyd Show memory of all time has to be the Misfits' appearance on Halloween night in 1980, which was perhaps even more incredible than any of the Ramones' appearances and a moment my local punk crew regarded as our equivalent of the Beatles appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show. I'd heard rumors that they'd be on the show that night but didn't believe them and so didn't tell my pals. Afterwards, I felt bad about having kept my mouth shut about it... until I met up with the gang shortly afterward to find they'd all seen it themselves anyway and couldn't stop bouncing off the walls about it! This defining moment, like most episodes of the show, only aired once and was never repeated, and you either saw it or you didn't.
Floyd himself was also a recording artist, releasing a slew of 45s on the BIOYA label, whose odd name was an acronym for "Blow it out your ass!" These were mostly novelty tunes geared to some of the show's characters like Oogie, Bones Boy, Looney Skip Rooney, Don Ho-Hum, and Cowboy Charlie, whose "Deep in the Heart of Jersey" remains Floyd's all-time greatest hit. Floyd would also play it straight from time to time, banging out old standards like "It's A Sin To Tell A Lie" on his upright piano. All of these singles have his brothers Jimmy and Jerry Vivino's band backing him up, and they still don't cost a fortune to own! Later on, he released an album on Mercury, and a few CDs as well, one of them a most fittingly punk-themed collaboration with Dr. Demento. And not to be outdone, multi-instrumentalist cast member Netto put out a fine version of Django Reinhardt's "Minor Swing," which the Looney Tunez record shop financed. I should also mention the late, great Mugsy, the show's resident songwriter, whose parodies of everyone from Springsteen to the Beatles sometimes provided the musical entertainment, and who did a split 7-inch with Floyd called "Public Enemy" under the name of... Peter Punk!
Now, If you knew Uncle Floyd, you know that he was an absolutely PHENOMENAL piano player. To my ears quite possibly the best I've ever heard, ever. Even my father, who didn't care for most anything else about the show, had to admit that Floyd sure could play the hell out of that upright in the corner of the studio when he overheard him jamming out on the TV one evening. In fact, the last time I saw Floyd perform live was one of his evening lounge piano gigs at the now-defunct Colucci's Italian Restaurant in Haledon for my 30th birthday. He dazzled me with astonishing playing the entire time and made it look as easy as riding a bike. I passed him a note that it was my birthday and got him singing "Happy Birthday" and a photo opportunity with him for the privilege. As I recall, he went into "Volare" and I sang a few bars of it (much though I hardly know any of the words!) as my mother snapped the shot. Uncle Floyd was always a class act to his fans, always happy to sign autographs and smile for the camera no matter where he was or what he was doing.
For a very short time it looked like Floyd could've become the next big thing nationally. TV Guide profiled the show in a story which ran nationwide, Paul Simon called (IYKYK) and cast him in a small role in his movie "One Trick Pony," and NBC eventually signed him up. But alas, his part was cut from the final edit of Paul's movie (which flopped anyway), and he was given the truly unenviable task of following SNL (which, tellingly, stole a lot from Floyd) at one AM. Indeed, he had his share of famous fans who boosted his good name out there, like the Ramones and David Bowie. But in the end, the man was Jerseyan to the core, and Jersey was part of his thing to such a degree that I don't think too many folks outside of Jersey would've fully caught on to it (and they certainly didn't during his ill-fated national stint for sure). Sure, Bruce and Bon Jovi and Frankie Valli may have that Jersey thing going for them too, but not to such a degree that the world at large wouldn't understand. And that, I think, was what made Uncle Floyd cooler than all of them, that commitment to his local fans which never wavered. He may have tried to capitalize on his success, but in the end he never sold out, and I honestly don't think selling out would've suited him anyway.
When news of Floyd's recent stroke reached me, I knew it was the beginning of the end and that he would sadly never be rockin' that piano again. Much effort was made to try to bring him back, including extensive (and, I'm told, grueling) rehabilitation, but it was a lost cause. Floyd made his last appearance on his own podcast just five days before Christmas. He spoke only for a few minutes and sounded like he was talking in his sleep. As soon as I heard it, I knew it was only a matter of time. And now yet another great legend is gone, in a world where I seem to wake up to the news of another dead cultural icon every goddamn day.
Floyd Vivino was a truly unique and special talent, a bonafide eccentric who somehow figured out how to make a career out of just being his crazy self, and isn't that what all eccentrics aspire to? The Uncle Floyd Show deeply defined my culture as a punk and as a New Jerseyan both at once. There will never be another like him, nor another crew like his cast of characters (nor will we ever see another presidential candidate like Artie Delmar!). You didn't have to grow up or live in NJ to appreciate Floyd, but it surely went a long way towards fully understanding him.
When I posted the simple words "Goodbye, Uncle Floyd" on Facebook upon hearing of his passing, a friend of mine who grew up far from Jersey told me "Hey, sorry to hear about your uncle." I gently corrected him at the moment, explaining who he was. But looking back, I should've just accepted his condolences and left it at that. Because with all now said and done, Floyd not only WAS my actual Uncle, but the very best one I ever had. Farewell, Floyd, and thanks for the memories, music, and laughter.
