I dug Bruce Pennington’s write-up on the “Super Sunday” recently held at the civic auditorium. I dug it like, it should be buried. Ten feet deep.

I am not (although I am female) about 14, and my hear- is not full of motherly love for Herman and his Hermits. I am 21, and I think Peter Noone (Herman) and his Hermits are the best thing ever to happen to rock ’n roll music. (The Beatles, whose style is different, are another story, although I think they are the greatest artists of our time in modern music.)

Why does Mr. Pennington wish that the Hermits have, and I quote, “entered their own little Renaissance”? I think they’ve done fine with the songs they’ve been recording. If a group can sing, for instance, two such innocent songs as “Mrs. Brown, you’ve Got a Lovely Daughter,” or “I’m Henry the VIII, I Am,” and make them million sellers, there may be a bit of hope left for the younger generation after all.

Peter did not look like an armchair. He looked like a sweet young fellow attired in stage clothes. Flowered suits are now in vogue—where has Mr. P. been? At least he did not come on in pants too tight to move—as did the lead singer of The Who—and he did not spend his entire number going through vulgar gyrations; also The Who. He also did not look like an escapee from a hippie pad, as his hair was clean, his clothes were clean, and he spoke without mentioning dirty songs. Another score for Herman!!!

Were The Who the hit of the show? Maybe they were — too bad, I say. They are musicians, true enough. Their act is frantic. But The Hermits didn’t have to blow up their amplifiers to put on a good show. They engaged in a bit of old-fashioned audience participation. Herman (Peter) literally begged the audience to sing along. What did he get? A weak chorus that wasn’t recognizable as anything.

It appeared to me the crowd was there to look. They didn’t know how to appreciate—thus weak applause. Poor Herman. I don’t blame him if he never comes back.

Judy Cooper

1116 3rd Ave. S., Fargo