I'm a little distracted tonight, what what sporting events out the wazoo—MU at Oklahoma, Wizards at New York, beisbol playoffs, et al—so I'm not feeling terribly inspired to write tonight. I have a case of blogger's cramp, you might say, but here are a few tidbits, anyway....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DUMMY!
Actor Demond Wilson, better known as Lamont Sanford on "Sanford And Son", turned 61 today. S&S is my favorite TV show of all-time and Demond was an important part of it, playing the straight man opposite the late Redd Foxx's hysterical Fred G. Sanford character. Evidently, Mr. Wilson had a fairly healthy cocaine habit back in the day, which partly explains why he wore those dark glasses during the last couple seasons of S&S, and why he practically phoned in his performances at times, all the while standing there with his thumb in his vest pocket. Last I heard, DW got clean and sober and became a preacher and gained a shitload of weight. A little trivia for you too: Demond served in the armed forces in Vietnam in the late '60s.
A LITTLE POETRY
While I'm thinking of Mr. Foxx, a little poetic gem from Redd:
Paternal suits don't bother me
To the doctor, I owe my thanks
Because since my operation,
I'm only shooting blanks...
(True story, in my case!)
And one more:
I kissed her lips
And then just for meanness
She twisted her legs
And broke my glasses
HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN...
I got a kick out of listening to the Nebraska football announcers on the radio today crapping their drawers over the Cornhuskers' second straight trouncing in as many weeks. Getting stomped last week at Missouri was one thing, but being spanked by Oklahoma State in their own house today was more than the NU broadcast team could take, and these guys were ready to lynch the entire team and coaching staff over this atrocity! Gentlemen, from a long-suffering MU fan to you, I say the following: now you know how the other half lives! Nebraska was ranked in the Top 25 earlier this season. Now, they're just rank...
SPEAKING OF RANK TEAMS...
My favorite whipping boy, Notorius Dame, lost again today, this time to the ever-dependable Boston College, who routinely beats the Flailing Irish for me. Nice job, youse Golden Eagles for dropping ND to 1-6, thus virtually eliminating any chance of them playing a bowl game this year. Next up for Notre Dame: USC. Oh, goody!!
HOP ABOARD THE WAY-BACK MACHINE...
...as I've stumbled across a few more gems from one of my favorite groups on earth in this hemisphere, Paul Revere & Da Raidas, thanks to the miracle that is YouseTube. First off, we have PR&TR larking about with comic legend Jack Benny on "Him Or Me-What's It Gonna Be?". Then we have Mark Lindsay acting like a white James Brown on an early Raider classic "Ooh Poo Pah Doo", during which the band gives the Pete Townshend treatment to Revere's upright piano. Then we return to 1968 for their performance of one of my favorite (and very underrated Raider tunes), "Too Much Talk", featuring a killer bass line from whomever played on the track. The Raiders used numerous session players on their records during this period, so it's anyone's guess who played the bass here, and if you really liked it, here's another video of the same song! Here's an even more obscure video for the 1969 tune "Out On That Road", a track off my fave Raider LP Hard 'N' Heavy (With Marshmallow). My apologies for the overly-loud volume here, as well as the suit Mark Lindsay sported here, which he appears to have borrowed from the Riddler on "Batman". And from that same fine album, here's the hit single "Mr. Sun, Mr. Moon" (performed with live vocal, to boot!), and the other hit single from it, "Cinderella Sunshine". Sadly, by this time, P. Revere was becoming a non-factor in the group, as the focus shifted more toward the music and further away from his comedic sensibilities, which is even more evident in this video that I had no clue ever existed, "Blue Powder Mercedes Queen" from the band's waning days in '72. And here's one from Mark Lindsay's short-lived, but somewhat successful solo career, 1970's "Miss America" (not to be confused with the Styx song of the same name). It's a "Good Thing" I came across all these videos tonight, or this post would've really sucked otherwise!
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Welcome to the Scent Printer!
"...if our new Sprint Center is anything like this joint (St. Paul's Xcel Energy Center), we're in for a real treat here in K.C. later this year..."—B. Holland, March 26, 2007.
I usually don't like to blow my own horn, but darned if I didn’t call this one right! The city of Kansas City seems to have gotten it right for a change too, as our new arena is everything they said it would be. The Sprint Center is definitely a MAJOR upgrade over our outdated and aging dump with a hump in the Stockyards, Kemper Arena—talk about going from the outhouse to the penthouse! I could still smell the paint drying as I paid my first visit to the new joint, but I was quite impressed with what I saw during the big public open house last night. I'm very pleased to report that it doesn't suck...
It’s also rather sweet to be able to say that K.C. once again has something better than our neighbors to the east in St. Louis do, given our collective inferiority complex when it comes to the Gateway City. I actually did attend the open house for the Kiel/Savvis/ Scottrade/ScottTowels (or whatever it’s called now) Center in St. Louis (I just happened to be in town that weekend when it first opened in 1994) and I thought it was a nice arena (and still is), but it didn’t have the "wow" factor at first blush for me that Sprint Center does. The folks who designed this rascal definitely did their homework and integrated as many features and amenities as they could from other state-of-the-art sports arenas into this one.
Just as I had hoped, the layout of the seating bowl of Sprint is very similar to that of the St. Paul arena (home of the Minnesota Wild), the concourses are huge, the sightlines are excellent and the scoreboard and signage are a show in and of themselves. There are also three vast improvements over Kemper Arena here: The lighting over the arena floor doesn’t have that dark, shadowy coffee-house effect, the PA system doesn’t sound like a ’70s Kraco 8-track car stereo (SRV sure sounded sweet playing overhead), and—my personal favorite—we now have well-lit arena restrooms that don’t reek of old dirty mop bucket water! No more peeing into a trough with rusty pipes attached to them either, as the johns at Sprint have individual urinals and toilets for to relieve one’s self in. Hopefully the concert acoustics will be far superior to the murky ones at Kemper, too.
The College Basketball Experience and Coaches Hall of Fame—also part of the arena complex—looked impressive too, although not all of the interactive exhibits are open to the public just yet. Now the city just needs finish up the adjacent Power & Light entertainment district, and the future home of the Nashville Predators will be THE place to be in this long-moribund downtown, which has needed a kick in the caboose for about 30 years now. My overall impression of the Sprint Center: It's a killer!
Here’s a little pictorial essay of my tour yesterday:
Can you just imagine the Windex budget for this place?
My first view of the interior. Looks cool even with half a basketball court...
Right in the front rowwww! This pic was taken from the future location of the hockey penalty boxes.
And a view from the true Uecker seats, which actually weren't bad at all.
A word to the wise: Eat before you attend an event here—get a load of these concession prices! (Click pic to enlarge)
I usually don't like to blow my own horn, but darned if I didn’t call this one right! The city of Kansas City seems to have gotten it right for a change too, as our new arena is everything they said it would be. The Sprint Center is definitely a MAJOR upgrade over our outdated and aging dump with a hump in the Stockyards, Kemper Arena—talk about going from the outhouse to the penthouse! I could still smell the paint drying as I paid my first visit to the new joint, but I was quite impressed with what I saw during the big public open house last night. I'm very pleased to report that it doesn't suck...
It’s also rather sweet to be able to say that K.C. once again has something better than our neighbors to the east in St. Louis do, given our collective inferiority complex when it comes to the Gateway City. I actually did attend the open house for the Kiel/Savvis/ Scottrade/ScottTowels (or whatever it’s called now) Center in St. Louis (I just happened to be in town that weekend when it first opened in 1994) and I thought it was a nice arena (and still is), but it didn’t have the "wow" factor at first blush for me that Sprint Center does. The folks who designed this rascal definitely did their homework and integrated as many features and amenities as they could from other state-of-the-art sports arenas into this one.
Just as I had hoped, the layout of the seating bowl of Sprint is very similar to that of the St. Paul arena (home of the Minnesota Wild), the concourses are huge, the sightlines are excellent and the scoreboard and signage are a show in and of themselves. There are also three vast improvements over Kemper Arena here: The lighting over the arena floor doesn’t have that dark, shadowy coffee-house effect, the PA system doesn’t sound like a ’70s Kraco 8-track car stereo (SRV sure sounded sweet playing overhead), and—my personal favorite—we now have well-lit arena restrooms that don’t reek of old dirty mop bucket water! No more peeing into a trough with rusty pipes attached to them either, as the johns at Sprint have individual urinals and toilets for to relieve one’s self in. Hopefully the concert acoustics will be far superior to the murky ones at Kemper, too.
The College Basketball Experience and Coaches Hall of Fame—also part of the arena complex—looked impressive too, although not all of the interactive exhibits are open to the public just yet. Now the city just needs finish up the adjacent Power & Light entertainment district, and the future home of the Nashville Predators will be THE place to be in this long-moribund downtown, which has needed a kick in the caboose for about 30 years now. My overall impression of the Sprint Center: It's a killer!
Here’s a little pictorial essay of my tour yesterday:
Can you just imagine the Windex budget for this place?
My first view of the interior. Looks cool even with half a basketball court...
Right in the front rowwww! This pic was taken from the future location of the hockey penalty boxes.
And a view from the true Uecker seats, which actually weren't bad at all.
A word to the wise: Eat before you attend an event here—get a load of these concession prices! (Click pic to enlarge)Odds and Sods
BIG FLAP OVER OBAMA’S FLAP
Yet another big media stink this week over nothing, as the right wing conservative pinheads bitched openly all because that impudent Democrap candidate Barack Obama had the temerity to NOT wear an American flag lapel pin on his chest like all the other "patriotic" candidates do. What the fuck difference does it make whether he wears Old Glory on his lapel or a carnation that squirts water?!? This is just another diversionary tactic by the GOP to steer voters away from what’s truly important in the campaign—the issues! Then again, these are the same people who get all wrapped up in symbolism to the point where they think if we pile on enough colored ribbons everywhere, it’ll make everything all better—the war in Iraq, breast cancer, racism, animal cruelty, child abuse, whatever. And you know damn well it’s just a matter of time before Obama gets "Swift-Boated" by the Bushies too. Just for the record, I’m not endorsing Obama here—not yet, anyway. I just think this nit-picky stuff about him is extreme silliness.
I FORGOT TO MENTION…
…in my entry the other night about the band Headz Up’s farewell performance how nice it was to enjoy it in a smoke-free environment. The bar they played at is located in nearby Independence, which recently enacted their new ban on smoking in public places, including bars and nightclubs, which naturally has the collective panties of all the bar owners and "persecuted smokers" in a gi-normous wad now. My heart bleeds, but I personally found it rather refreshing to be able to have a few beers and enjoy some loud, rhythmic music in a bar and not come home smelling like the inside of a Hoover Upright for once…
GIVE ‘EM THE BOOT
Saw an article in the paper today about the Government Accountability Office (GAO) investigating allegations of abuse and even a death at these so-called "boot camps" for wayward teenagers. We’re talking about the kind of crap Moron Povich features on his show all the time—these places where they send out-of-control teens off to so they can supposedly be rehabilitated through strict discipline, which I think is a total crock. While I’m not saying these kids should be coddled or babied, I also fail to see how being screamed at and berated by some schmuck in a military uniform is going to improve anyone’s life, especially a rebellious teenager. And why aren’t the parents of these kids sent to some sort of boot camp as well? Seems to me like if the teenager is that messed-up, it’s quite likely that their parental units made a few tactical errors along the way in raising the kid in the first place, and they should be forced to take responsibility for their part in screwing up their child for life.
THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE?
Seems that Coors and Miller have the urge to merge and are joining forces to combine one crappy brewing company with another, thus creating an even crappier beer-maker! In Rock terms for me, that would be like John Mellencamp and Kid Rock forming a band together. No thanks, fellas, I’ll stick with Anheuser-Busch…
CANDY GRAM FOR MONGO...
Actual patient name at one of our offices this week: Candy Gram. Even I couldn't make up stuff like this!
DEFEATING THE PURPOSE?Speaking of my workplace, we recently had to sit through our annual Sexual Harrassment Video presentation again. Why is it every time I watch these things, I feel totally violated by the exceedingly bad acting therein? Come to think of it, our superiors really need to show this damn video to one of our touchy-feely radiologists, a guy we often refer to as "Stanley Groper"…
PAGING AARP QUARTERBACKS!
Things are so bad for the Carolina Panthers that they’ve signed retired 43-year-old QB Vinny Testaverde, who may well start their game this week at Arizona. Hell, Vincenzo is my age, and he was a rookie when I was still working at the "Mighty 1030" in 1987, so what does that tell ya? That was like seven employers ago for me! I hear a few other teams are hurting at QB as well, and a few are even trying to lure 80-year-old George Blanda out of retirement, but the NFL would first have to alter its "no canes or walkers in the backfield" rule.
HOUSE OF GARTH?
I was quite impressed with Country singer Garth Brooks’ heroic attempt at sticking it to TicketBastard and all the "ticket brokers" (i.e. scalpers) this week by offering tickets to his upcoming Sprint Center concert here in K.C. for only around $30, and controlling the doling-out of those tickets as well. When the first show sold out, GB added another show. And another one. And another. And yet another, until there were nine concerts and 140,000 tickets sold! I’ve never cared all that much for Garth’s music, but I appreciate his little endeavor here. I also commend him for not being the money-grubber that most musicians of his stature are, because he could’ve easily charged twice as much for those tickets and gotten it, too.
It’s still weird to say things like "only around $30" for concert tickets, too. Remember when tickets for The Jacksons' victory tour in 1984 were 30 bucks and how everyone was shitting bricks over such exorbitant prices? Shit, 30 semolians for a concert is a fucking bargain now…
Yet another big media stink this week over nothing, as the right wing conservative pinheads bitched openly all because that impudent Democrap candidate Barack Obama had the temerity to NOT wear an American flag lapel pin on his chest like all the other "patriotic" candidates do. What the fuck difference does it make whether he wears Old Glory on his lapel or a carnation that squirts water?!? This is just another diversionary tactic by the GOP to steer voters away from what’s truly important in the campaign—the issues! Then again, these are the same people who get all wrapped up in symbolism to the point where they think if we pile on enough colored ribbons everywhere, it’ll make everything all better—the war in Iraq, breast cancer, racism, animal cruelty, child abuse, whatever. And you know damn well it’s just a matter of time before Obama gets "Swift-Boated" by the Bushies too. Just for the record, I’m not endorsing Obama here—not yet, anyway. I just think this nit-picky stuff about him is extreme silliness.
I FORGOT TO MENTION…
…in my entry the other night about the band Headz Up’s farewell performance how nice it was to enjoy it in a smoke-free environment. The bar they played at is located in nearby Independence, which recently enacted their new ban on smoking in public places, including bars and nightclubs, which naturally has the collective panties of all the bar owners and "persecuted smokers" in a gi-normous wad now. My heart bleeds, but I personally found it rather refreshing to be able to have a few beers and enjoy some loud, rhythmic music in a bar and not come home smelling like the inside of a Hoover Upright for once…
GIVE ‘EM THE BOOT
Saw an article in the paper today about the Government Accountability Office (GAO) investigating allegations of abuse and even a death at these so-called "boot camps" for wayward teenagers. We’re talking about the kind of crap Moron Povich features on his show all the time—these places where they send out-of-control teens off to so they can supposedly be rehabilitated through strict discipline, which I think is a total crock. While I’m not saying these kids should be coddled or babied, I also fail to see how being screamed at and berated by some schmuck in a military uniform is going to improve anyone’s life, especially a rebellious teenager. And why aren’t the parents of these kids sent to some sort of boot camp as well? Seems to me like if the teenager is that messed-up, it’s quite likely that their parental units made a few tactical errors along the way in raising the kid in the first place, and they should be forced to take responsibility for their part in screwing up their child for life.
THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE?
Seems that Coors and Miller have the urge to merge and are joining forces to combine one crappy brewing company with another, thus creating an even crappier beer-maker! In Rock terms for me, that would be like John Mellencamp and Kid Rock forming a band together. No thanks, fellas, I’ll stick with Anheuser-Busch…
CANDY GRAM FOR MONGO...
Actual patient name at one of our offices this week: Candy Gram. Even I couldn't make up stuff like this!
DEFEATING THE PURPOSE?Speaking of my workplace, we recently had to sit through our annual Sexual Harrassment Video presentation again. Why is it every time I watch these things, I feel totally violated by the exceedingly bad acting therein? Come to think of it, our superiors really need to show this damn video to one of our touchy-feely radiologists, a guy we often refer to as "Stanley Groper"…
PAGING AARP QUARTERBACKS!
Things are so bad for the Carolina Panthers that they’ve signed retired 43-year-old QB Vinny Testaverde, who may well start their game this week at Arizona. Hell, Vincenzo is my age, and he was a rookie when I was still working at the "Mighty 1030" in 1987, so what does that tell ya? That was like seven employers ago for me! I hear a few other teams are hurting at QB as well, and a few are even trying to lure 80-year-old George Blanda out of retirement, but the NFL would first have to alter its "no canes or walkers in the backfield" rule.
HOUSE OF GARTH?
I was quite impressed with Country singer Garth Brooks’ heroic attempt at sticking it to TicketBastard and all the "ticket brokers" (i.e. scalpers) this week by offering tickets to his upcoming Sprint Center concert here in K.C. for only around $30, and controlling the doling-out of those tickets as well. When the first show sold out, GB added another show. And another one. And another. And yet another, until there were nine concerts and 140,000 tickets sold! I’ve never cared all that much for Garth’s music, but I appreciate his little endeavor here. I also commend him for not being the money-grubber that most musicians of his stature are, because he could’ve easily charged twice as much for those tickets and gotten it, too.
It’s still weird to say things like "only around $30" for concert tickets, too. Remember when tickets for The Jacksons' victory tour in 1984 were 30 bucks and how everyone was shitting bricks over such exorbitant prices? Shit, 30 semolians for a concert is a fucking bargain now…
Monday, October 8, 2007
An important message from The Rally Monkey...
Okay, so he's not the Cleveland mascot, but his annual message (that I stole from Don Henley) still rings true, and if I may be so bold as to paraphrase New York Yankees play-by-play announcer John Sterling (while thumping my chest): “TH-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E Yankees LOSE!!!” Congrats to the Cleveland Indians for taking out the Bronx Bummers tonight in the American League Division Series, which broke the mold by going to a fourth game, unlike the other three series that were sweeps. Meantime, Drew Carey was right: Cleveland rocks!And since the Yankees lost, evidently this will be manager Joe Torre’s final game in NY pinstripes, as douche-bag Steinbrenner has avowed that Torre is history without winning the World Series this year. If I were Torre, I’d tell big George to go get stuffed...
By the way, nice job by TBS in covering the first round of the playoffs this year, although I could’ve really done without all the promos for their new “Frank TV” series featuring impressionist Frank Caliendo. No offense, Frank, but I feel like I’m being force-fed here…
It's in 'im, and it's got to come out...
…lots to catch up on here , so in the words of Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere & The Raiders, "I’m gonna stomp and shout and work it on out!”
“THOSE CROCODILE TEARS I WATCH YOU CRY…”
And what a Croc(k) disgraced Olympian Marion Jones truly is, too! After years of Rafael Palmeiro-style denial that she used illegal performance-enhancing substances, she decides to come clean the nanosecond she gets caught with the goods and give a half-hearted tear-filled apology during which she vowed to help make other people’s lives better from here on out. Yeah, right, whatever. I never have liked this woman anyway, almost from the beginning when she did those Nike TV ads where she pretended to be a talk radio host and said, “Alright, all you suckas out there…” and sat there trash-talking about how good she was. In the words of my man Lemmy in his Motorhead classic “Traitor”, “You are abomination—you that betray the nation…” Enjoy your time in the pokey with your bitches there, Marion…
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT…
On the opposite end of the sports spectrum, a tip of da hat to the Colorado Rockies, who decided as a team to donate a full playoff share to the family of Mike Coolbaugh, the first base coach of the Tulsa Drillers who was tragically struck and killed by a line drive earlier this season. Tulsa is the AA minor league affiliate of the Rockies, and most of the Colorado players didn’t even know the man, but the team voted to help assist Coolbaugh’s widow (who is pregnant with the couple’s third child) with the full playoff share, which is no small chunk of change, especially if they win the World Series. Bravo, gentlemen, bravo!
MIZZOU-RAH!
Congratulations to my Missouri Tigers for stomping the living caca out of Nebraska in Columbia on Saturday night. Expectations have been at an all-time high for MU’s football team this year, and so far, they’ve lived up to them. Next week’s game at Oklahoma will be an even bigger test of their collective mettle, and a win there would exorcise a demon or two for the program. Congrats also to Kansas for picking off K-State in their own house on Saturday. And a tongue-in-cheek congrats to Notre Dame for finally getting off the schnide and winning a game, 20-6 at UCLA, who’ve brought shame and disgrace upon themselves for life.
While I’m on football, is there anyone else besides me who’s finding the college game more fun to watch this year than the pros? I love the NFL, but for some reason, their games are getting rather boring and predictable to me this year, while the colleges are more exciting and energetic.
THE END OF AN ERA (FOR NOW)
Saturday night was the final gig for one of the better bar bands you’ll ever see, a group called Headz Up. Guitarist R.D. Snow, keyboardist John Gutierrez and bassist Michael Nitro have been traipsing around K.C. for over ten years playing everything from Johnny Cash to Black Sabbath in this band that once included my good friend and home improvement guru Phil Alvarez on drums, and Mr. Nitro has decided to “retire”. One of the highlights of their set for me was always their nearly note-perfect rendition of Joe Cocker’s arrangement of “With A Little Help From My Friends” during which if you closed your eyes, you’d almost swear you were back at Woodstock with Nitro’s dead-on bluesy Cocker growl (minus all the epileptic-fit histrionics, that is). My gut feeling is Mikey’s “retirement” is a temporary thing, and like Ozzy Osbourne, he’ll soon discover that retirement sucks!
THE DEVILS DO WEAR PRADA?
I often chuckle when I see photos like this one in the paper, featuring the latest runway fashions, and I have to ask the following: Do these fashion designer people actually expect ordinary everyday women to wear this crap?!? I haven’t seen pants like that since my Sears Toughskins that Mom made me wear in first grade! They call this fashion? This shit looks like it was designed by Krusty The Clown…
A MOMENT OF SILENCE, PLEASE
For the second time in a month, one of my home improvement projects has claimed the life of a member of the animal kingdom. Last month, it was the fleeing snake who committed suicide by diving headfirst into toxic sewer water during my sewer drain repair, and this past weekend as Phil and I repaired the back wall of my house, Chippy The Chipmunk, a tenant of mine who lived under my patio, bit the dust. Evidently, Chippy snuck in underneath the scraps of wood and paneling that I had piled up on the patio and one of the heavier pieces slipped and crushed him to death, as I found him flattened not unlike Chicago Cubs were in the playoffs this weekend. This is the second chipmunk fatality related to my back door area in the last ten years, as another bodacious rodent dared to enter my humble abode through a hole in the wall and met his maker in a rather unpleasant manner…
NOT-SO-HOT 100
My good friend Randy Raley posted this link on his blog last week featuring AudioVideo Revolution’s Top 100 Rock albums of all-time, a subject that makes for great debate, indeed. This is just me, but I think this list was created by a bunch of crack-smokers and Rolling Stone critics (same thing). First off, they have Jimi Hendrix’ Electric Ladyland at #3 all-time, and that’s not even the best Hendrix album (Are You Experienced? blows it away). Led Zeppelin III ahead of Led Zeppelin IV?!? The Beatles’ half-assed Let It Be album ahead of Revolver and Abbey Road doesn’t even make the list?!? This Is Spinal Tap soundtrack—an album by a group that didn’t really exist?!? Tattoo You is the only Stones album to make the cut—where’s Sticky Fingers? The Who doesn’t even crack the Top 60, and Who’s Next doesn’t make the list at all? Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road nowhere to be found here? Whatchutalkinbout, Willis?!? There’s also a lot of other stuff that doesn’t even belong on this list, like the Beastie Boys, Bob Marley and Lyle Lovett—not Rock ‘N’ Roll to me, sorry—and way too many Metallica albums for my liking.
I’ve been toying with the idea of putting together my own Top 100 albums list for some time now, but I always have trouble compiling it once I get past the Top five to ten albums. Ranking favorite albums is such a subjective thing, and I have trouble with what criteria to base my list on—do I go with my heart or with my head? To me, the way an album impacts you when it first comes out has a lot to do with how much you like it. For instance, I’d have to say that ZZ Top’s best album is probably Eliminator or maybe even Fandango!, but my personal favorite is El Loco because of where I was personally and what was going on in my life at the time it came out. Fair Warning is my favorite Van Halen album, but clearly their first one is their best. Another good example is Paul Revere & The Raiders’ 1969 release Hard ‘n’ Heavy (with Marshmallow) that I listened to incessantly when I was all of five years old. Is it one of the greatest albums of all-time? Probably not, but it makes my Top 5 all the same. Food for thought, and to each his/her own…
Just for shits and hoots, here’s my Top 10 albums of all-time (the other 90 are subject to debate):
10) Quadrophenia—THE WHO (1973)
9) Destroyer—KISS (1976)
8) Abbey Road—THE BEATLES (1969)
7) Black Oak Arkansas—BLACK OAK ARKANSAS (1971)
6) Led Zeppelin IV—LED ZEPPELIN (1971)
5) Hard ‘n’ Heavy (With Marshmallow)—P. REVERE & THE RAIDERS (1969)
4) Orgasmatron—MOTORHEAD (1986)
3) Who’s Next—THE WHO (1971)
2) Alive!—KISS (1975)
1) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road—ELTON JOHN (1973)
“THOSE CROCODILE TEARS I WATCH YOU CRY…”
And what a Croc(k) disgraced Olympian Marion Jones truly is, too! After years of Rafael Palmeiro-style denial that she used illegal performance-enhancing substances, she decides to come clean the nanosecond she gets caught with the goods and give a half-hearted tear-filled apology during which she vowed to help make other people’s lives better from here on out. Yeah, right, whatever. I never have liked this woman anyway, almost from the beginning when she did those Nike TV ads where she pretended to be a talk radio host and said, “Alright, all you suckas out there…” and sat there trash-talking about how good she was. In the words of my man Lemmy in his Motorhead classic “Traitor”, “You are abomination—you that betray the nation…” Enjoy your time in the pokey with your bitches there, Marion…AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT…
On the opposite end of the sports spectrum, a tip of da hat to the Colorado Rockies, who decided as a team to donate a full playoff share to the family of Mike Coolbaugh, the first base coach of the Tulsa Drillers who was tragically struck and killed by a line drive earlier this season. Tulsa is the AA minor league affiliate of the Rockies, and most of the Colorado players didn’t even know the man, but the team voted to help assist Coolbaugh’s widow (who is pregnant with the couple’s third child) with the full playoff share, which is no small chunk of change, especially if they win the World Series. Bravo, gentlemen, bravo!
MIZZOU-RAH!
Congratulations to my Missouri Tigers for stomping the living caca out of Nebraska in Columbia on Saturday night. Expectations have been at an all-time high for MU’s football team this year, and so far, they’ve lived up to them. Next week’s game at Oklahoma will be an even bigger test of their collective mettle, and a win there would exorcise a demon or two for the program. Congrats also to Kansas for picking off K-State in their own house on Saturday. And a tongue-in-cheek congrats to Notre Dame for finally getting off the schnide and winning a game, 20-6 at UCLA, who’ve brought shame and disgrace upon themselves for life.
While I’m on football, is there anyone else besides me who’s finding the college game more fun to watch this year than the pros? I love the NFL, but for some reason, their games are getting rather boring and predictable to me this year, while the colleges are more exciting and energetic.
THE END OF AN ERA (FOR NOW)
Saturday night was the final gig for one of the better bar bands you’ll ever see, a group called Headz Up. Guitarist R.D. Snow, keyboardist John Gutierrez and bassist Michael Nitro have been traipsing around K.C. for over ten years playing everything from Johnny Cash to Black Sabbath in this band that once included my good friend and home improvement guru Phil Alvarez on drums, and Mr. Nitro has decided to “retire”. One of the highlights of their set for me was always their nearly note-perfect rendition of Joe Cocker’s arrangement of “With A Little Help From My Friends” during which if you closed your eyes, you’d almost swear you were back at Woodstock with Nitro’s dead-on bluesy Cocker growl (minus all the epileptic-fit histrionics, that is). My gut feeling is Mikey’s “retirement” is a temporary thing, and like Ozzy Osbourne, he’ll soon discover that retirement sucks!
THE DEVILS DO WEAR PRADA?
I often chuckle when I see photos like this one in the paper, featuring the latest runway fashions, and I have to ask the following: Do these fashion designer people actually expect ordinary everyday women to wear this crap?!? I haven’t seen pants like that since my Sears Toughskins that Mom made me wear in first grade! They call this fashion? This shit looks like it was designed by Krusty The Clown…A MOMENT OF SILENCE, PLEASE
For the second time in a month, one of my home improvement projects has claimed the life of a member of the animal kingdom. Last month, it was the fleeing snake who committed suicide by diving headfirst into toxic sewer water during my sewer drain repair, and this past weekend as Phil and I repaired the back wall of my house, Chippy The Chipmunk, a tenant of mine who lived under my patio, bit the dust. Evidently, Chippy snuck in underneath the scraps of wood and paneling that I had piled up on the patio and one of the heavier pieces slipped and crushed him to death, as I found him flattened not unlike Chicago Cubs were in the playoffs this weekend. This is the second chipmunk fatality related to my back door area in the last ten years, as another bodacious rodent dared to enter my humble abode through a hole in the wall and met his maker in a rather unpleasant manner…
NOT-SO-HOT 100
My good friend Randy Raley posted this link on his blog last week featuring AudioVideo Revolution’s Top 100 Rock albums of all-time, a subject that makes for great debate, indeed. This is just me, but I think this list was created by a bunch of crack-smokers and Rolling Stone critics (same thing). First off, they have Jimi Hendrix’ Electric Ladyland at #3 all-time, and that’s not even the best Hendrix album (Are You Experienced? blows it away). Led Zeppelin III ahead of Led Zeppelin IV?!? The Beatles’ half-assed Let It Be album ahead of Revolver and Abbey Road doesn’t even make the list?!? This Is Spinal Tap soundtrack—an album by a group that didn’t really exist?!? Tattoo You is the only Stones album to make the cut—where’s Sticky Fingers? The Who doesn’t even crack the Top 60, and Who’s Next doesn’t make the list at all? Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road nowhere to be found here? Whatchutalkinbout, Willis?!? There’s also a lot of other stuff that doesn’t even belong on this list, like the Beastie Boys, Bob Marley and Lyle Lovett—not Rock ‘N’ Roll to me, sorry—and way too many Metallica albums for my liking.
I’ve been toying with the idea of putting together my own Top 100 albums list for some time now, but I always have trouble compiling it once I get past the Top five to ten albums. Ranking favorite albums is such a subjective thing, and I have trouble with what criteria to base my list on—do I go with my heart or with my head? To me, the way an album impacts you when it first comes out has a lot to do with how much you like it. For instance, I’d have to say that ZZ Top’s best album is probably Eliminator or maybe even Fandango!, but my personal favorite is El Loco because of where I was personally and what was going on in my life at the time it came out. Fair Warning is my favorite Van Halen album, but clearly their first one is their best. Another good example is Paul Revere & The Raiders’ 1969 release Hard ‘n’ Heavy (with Marshmallow) that I listened to incessantly when I was all of five years old. Is it one of the greatest albums of all-time? Probably not, but it makes my Top 5 all the same. Food for thought, and to each his/her own…
Just for shits and hoots, here’s my Top 10 albums of all-time (the other 90 are subject to debate):
10) Quadrophenia—THE WHO (1973)
9) Destroyer—KISS (1976)
8) Abbey Road—THE BEATLES (1969)
7) Black Oak Arkansas—BLACK OAK ARKANSAS (1971)
6) Led Zeppelin IV—LED ZEPPELIN (1971)
5) Hard ‘n’ Heavy (With Marshmallow)—P. REVERE & THE RAIDERS (1969)
4) Orgasmatron—MOTORHEAD (1986)
3) Who’s Next—THE WHO (1971)
2) Alive!—KISS (1975)
1) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road—ELTON JOHN (1973)
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
A few more sports quickies
PRE-HATCH CHICKEN-COUNTING, 101This ad (click pic to enlarge) appeared in last week's Sports Illustrated. With apologies to all you grieving New York Mets fans out there, methinks we need a little White-Out here...
THE GREAT DICTATOR?
Just wanted to share this little nugget that was e-mailed to me by a fellow owner in my Yahoo Fantasy Football League (Yahoo being the operative word here), the grammar and punctuation of which I have not altered at all:
"The commish deleted my post and locked me. This guy runs his league like a Nazi Concentration Camp, if you disagree or have a different opinion than he does, your through. Watch your back Hitler has a Knife and he is prepared to use it."
It's fuckers like him that take all the fun out of fantasy sports and have me truly reconsidering my participation in this activity these days. Evidently, our Commissioner—a very honorable guy I know well and once worked with (and a staunch conservative, no less!)—disallowed a trade this goomer wanted to make (and rightfully so), and as often happens within computer-based fantasy leagues, this asshole hides behind his cute little screen name ("Dawg Pound") and proceeds to call him every name in the book just because he didn't get his way. My guess is "Dawg" is probably in his forties and still living in his parents' basement...
AW, PUCK IT!
Hockey season is upon us, once again. The regular season got underway over the weekend as the Anaheim Mighty Quacks and L.A. Kings played a pair of games across the big pond in London, and tonight things got underway stateside and north of the border with a handful of games. I truly hope the NHL can reclaim its former glory and cease being the butt of so many snide remarks from the talking heads at ESPN (aka "Poker Central") like Tony Cornholio (Kornheiser) and others. Yes, the league took a major hit with the 2004-05 labor stoppage, and their TV presence ain't what it should be, but it's still a wonderful sport to watch, and deserves a lot more respect than what it's getting these days. I sure don't hear anything in the NHL about steroids, dog-fighting or referees that cheat...
And in a hopeful development, it seems that the tentative lease deal reached by the Nashville Predators to allow them to remain in Music City earlier this year is beginning to unravel like baseball's Milton Bradley, thus raising the chances of the team relocating to K.C. for the 2008-09 season. The puck may well stop here, after all...
X Gets The Square
A mere three months into my first tour of duty as a lowly Private in the Kiss Army, I was glued to the TV on October 29, 1976 when the band made its first-ever appearance on prime-time network TV on ABC’s semi-legendary "Paul Lynde Halloween Special". Edited versions of the Kiss segments were already available on their Kissology-Vol. I DVD set, but now the entire one-hour show has been released on DVD, so just for shits and hoots, I rented it this week.This show aired back in the day when entertainers—actors, comedians, singers, whatever—would often host these one-shot variety show specials on network TV, especially during the almighty ratings sweeps periods. Paul Lynde was still a fairly big name in ’76 on the strength of his work on "Hollywood Squares" and various other TV sitcoms, but I'm afraid to say that after seeing the whole program again for the first time in 31 years, this thing was a total train wreck! I can also safely say that Kiss was far and away the only decent part of it, even after putting aside my bias as a dyed-in-the-wool Kiss fan—and even their performance was pretty watered-down here. I’d forgotten how gratingly hokey shows like these could be! Cornball skits, lame one-liners, gaudy costumes, hackneyed dance numbers—this show had it all, in best ‘70s Captain & Tennille/Donny & Marie tradition. The latter duo made a brief cameo appearance here on Lynde’s little "spookfest", along with the usual '70s game show/variety show denizens like Betty White, Florence Henderson and Tim Conway, plus Billy Barty, Billie "Witchypoo" Hayes and Margaret "Wicked Witch of the West" Hamilton, and for no particular reason, the gal who played Pinky Tuscadero (for all of what, three episodes?) on "Happy Days". Paul Lynde was certainly a lot funnier in his element on "Squares" than he was on this show, which made him look rather foolish.
As bad as the feature presentation was, the DVD made up for that with a 10-minute special bonus interview with recollections from "Squares" host Peter Marshall about PL's career that also featured some great still photos from HS and some funny anecdotes from Marshall. Unlike today’s still-born version of "Hollywood Squares" that features "celebrities" like Bruce Vilanch and Gilbert Gottfried, the ‘60s/’70s HS was the one game show that managed to regularly draw A-List personalities to appear on it like Burt Reynolds, George C. Scott and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and as I previously posted on this blog, it’s a crying shame most of those old videotapes were either destroyed or re-used for other shows. Not only was HS a classic game show, but it also provided a nice time capsule of who was who in the entertainment world during that era. And, as Officer Hopkins on "Sanford And Son" once pointed out, where else on earth would one find "the great Jack Webb...sitting on top of Karen Valentine"? The DVD also features some of Paul Lynde’s classic quips from the show, which were pretty funny stuff, as well as still photos from throughout his career and appearances on other game shows like "Baffle", which aired for one season in 1973-74. I’d even totally forgotten that show was hosted by legendary sportscaster Dick Enberg, too.
According to Marshall (who, btw, was born Pierre LaCock and is the father of former Major Leaguer Pete LaCock), they would tape all of the "Squares" shows for a given week on the same day—three shows before lunch and two after, and just like with "Match Game", alcohol was readily available for the show’s celebrity panelists’ consumption, thus the verbal barbs—particularly those from Lynde, a prolific alcoholic—were just a tad more pointed on the Thursday and Friday episodes. Lynde was a fairly mean drunk too, and he was known to take pot shots at other guests on the show whom he didn’t like, and even actual contestants who he deemed to be total morons. Ironically, Paul Lynde died in January, 1982—about a year or so after he got clean and sober and started taking care of himself. You don't suppose his casket was provided by Dicker & Dicker of Beverly Hills, do you?
Monday, October 1, 2007
Top 50 Songs From The '50s (That Weren't Done by Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry or Budy Holly)--Part II
25) "I Walk The Line"—JOHNNY CASH (1956) The Man In Black’s Top 40 debut, recorded at the mighty Sun Records studio in Memphis. It was quite an honor for me earlier this year to be able to stand in the very same room that this and many other legendary songs were recorded and soak in all that music history.
24) "Tutti-Frutti"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) I can state with great certainty that Brother Richard’s version of this one is far superior to Pat Boone’s.
23) "I’m Walkin’"—FATS DOMINO (1957) The best of Antoine Domino’s pedestrian-themed songs, along with “Walkin’ To New Orleans” and “I Want To Walk You Home”.
22) "Blue Suede Shoes"—CARL PERKINS (1956) CP’s career was forever derailed by a car accident that laid him up in the hospital for quite a while just after this one came out, and EP came along and stole his thunder with his even more famous version of it.
21) "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?"—FRANKIE LYMON (1956) Future junkie and alleged polygamist Frankie Lymon had one helluva falsetto until his voice changed during pooberty.
20) "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes"—THE PLATTERS (1958) “They asked me how I knew--her brassiere was blue…” ’Nuff said!
19) "Charlie Brown"—THE COASTERS (1958) Not to be confused with the Charles M. Schulz comic strip character of the same name, but a guy who evidently got picked on every bit as often.
18) "A Thousand Miles Away"—THE HEARTBEATS (1957) Doo-wop classic that makes creative use of the phrase “rat-a-tat” in the backing vocals.
17) "Speedo"—THE CADILLACS (1955) Mr. Earl sings early prequel to Kiss’ 1976 tune “Mr. Speed”.
16) "Rip It Up"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) Oft-covered LR classic that features the line “wanna ball it up”, which somehow got by the censors and all the uptight religious conservative pinheads of that era.
15) "Ain’t That A Shame"—FATS DOMINO (1955) This song’s official title is “Ain’t It a Shame.” Ain’t no shame at all, actually—great song, no matter whether Fats or Cheap Trick does it.
14) "Rebel Rouser"—DUANE EDDY (1958) Outstanding twangy instrumental that was the perfect accompaniment to the “Run, Forrest, Run” scene in Forrest Gump.
13) "What’d I Say?" (Parts 1 & 2)—RAY CHARLES (1959) Brother Ray was one of the first to use an electric piano in his recordings, and this song was way ahead of its time.
12) "Rock A-Beatin’ Boogie"—BILL HALEY & HIS COMETS (1955) Haley’s songs had a habit of all kinda sounding the same (particularly the backing tracks), but this one stands out for me, for some reason.
11) "Party Doll"—BUDDY KNOX (1957) Not to be confused with the slightly more famous Buddy from this era, Mr. Knox scored a big hit with this catchy little tune, featuring a great guitar solo, which was still a rarity back then.
10) "Come On, Let’s Go"—RITCHIE VALENS (1958) I’m still not sold on RV deserving to be in the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame—I think his induction was based more on potential than Ritchie’s actual achievements during his truncated eight-month career—but this song cooks from the get-go. Los Lobos did him proud with their excellent 1987 version for La Bamba too.
9) "The Battle Of Kookamonga"—HOMER & JETHRO (1959) Well over two decades before Weird Al came along, the art of the music parody was already born in the form of this duo who lampooned Johnny Horton’s hit “The Battle of New Orleans” from earlier in ‘59. A veritable Dr. Demento classic, indeed.
8) "I Only Have Eyes For You"—THE FLAMINGOS (1959) Rather trippy doo-wop belly-rubber song that features the mysterious “guh-budge-uh-buh” backing vocal bit. I suspect this was quite the make-out favorite back in the day too…
7) "Come Go With Me"—DEL-VIKINGS (1957) Is there any song more quintessentially ‘50s than this one? “Dom-dom-dom-dom,” indeed!
6) "The Big Beat"—FATS DOMINO (1958) One listen to his greatest hits CD revealed to me that there’s a helluva lot more to the Fat Man than just “I‘m Walkin‘” and “Blueberry Hill”, and this song is my favorite of everything he’s done. I’m just thankful that Richie Cunningham or (even worse) Potsie Webber never sang this one…
5) "Stranded In The Jungle"—THE CADETS (1956) One of the funniest and most creative songs of any era, let alone the primitive ‘50s. “Meanwhile, back in the States…”
4) [Tie] "Good Golly Miss Molly" (1958)/"Keep-A-Knockin’"—LITTLE RICHARD (1957) Two classic screamers from Mr. Penniman that I can’t choose one over the other, so they’re in a dead heat. The former also inexplicably snuck past the censors with the line “sure like to ball”, and the latter, while poorly recorded, is a sassy little attitude piece that just cooks.
3) "Since I Don’t Have You"—THE SKYLINERS (1959) Lovely ballad that just glides along like a Lincoln Continental, featuring outstanding vocals by this group from Pittsburgh, of all places. Oddly enough, this one only got to #12 on the Billboard charts.
2) "Little Darlin’"—THE DIAMONDS (1957) Doo-wop, Canuck-style! These guys were from Toronto, and hit the Top 40 numerous times, but only scored three truly big hits, ”The Stroll”, a version of The Rays’ “Silhouettes” that hit the Top 10, and this classic, which features the entire vocal range from bass to falsetto.
1) "Get A Job"—THE SILHOUETTES (1958) Speaking of doo-wop, they don’t get no better than this one, which is the epitome of the genre. The group Sha Na Na no doubt took their name from this song. I wonder why no one took the name “Ba-Doom”…
24) "Tutti-Frutti"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) I can state with great certainty that Brother Richard’s version of this one is far superior to Pat Boone’s.
23) "I’m Walkin’"—FATS DOMINO (1957) The best of Antoine Domino’s pedestrian-themed songs, along with “Walkin’ To New Orleans” and “I Want To Walk You Home”.
22) "Blue Suede Shoes"—CARL PERKINS (1956) CP’s career was forever derailed by a car accident that laid him up in the hospital for quite a while just after this one came out, and EP came along and stole his thunder with his even more famous version of it.
21) "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?"—FRANKIE LYMON (1956) Future junkie and alleged polygamist Frankie Lymon had one helluva falsetto until his voice changed during pooberty.
20) "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes"—THE PLATTERS (1958) “They asked me how I knew--her brassiere was blue…” ’Nuff said!
19) "Charlie Brown"—THE COASTERS (1958) Not to be confused with the Charles M. Schulz comic strip character of the same name, but a guy who evidently got picked on every bit as often.
18) "A Thousand Miles Away"—THE HEARTBEATS (1957) Doo-wop classic that makes creative use of the phrase “rat-a-tat” in the backing vocals.
17) "Speedo"—THE CADILLACS (1955) Mr. Earl sings early prequel to Kiss’ 1976 tune “Mr. Speed”.
16) "Rip It Up"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) Oft-covered LR classic that features the line “wanna ball it up”, which somehow got by the censors and all the uptight religious conservative pinheads of that era.
15) "Ain’t That A Shame"—FATS DOMINO (1955) This song’s official title is “Ain’t It a Shame.” Ain’t no shame at all, actually—great song, no matter whether Fats or Cheap Trick does it.
14) "Rebel Rouser"—DUANE EDDY (1958) Outstanding twangy instrumental that was the perfect accompaniment to the “Run, Forrest, Run” scene in Forrest Gump.
13) "What’d I Say?" (Parts 1 & 2)—RAY CHARLES (1959) Brother Ray was one of the first to use an electric piano in his recordings, and this song was way ahead of its time.
12) "Rock A-Beatin’ Boogie"—BILL HALEY & HIS COMETS (1955) Haley’s songs had a habit of all kinda sounding the same (particularly the backing tracks), but this one stands out for me, for some reason.
11) "Party Doll"—BUDDY KNOX (1957) Not to be confused with the slightly more famous Buddy from this era, Mr. Knox scored a big hit with this catchy little tune, featuring a great guitar solo, which was still a rarity back then.
10) "Come On, Let’s Go"—RITCHIE VALENS (1958) I’m still not sold on RV deserving to be in the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame—I think his induction was based more on potential than Ritchie’s actual achievements during his truncated eight-month career—but this song cooks from the get-go. Los Lobos did him proud with their excellent 1987 version for La Bamba too.
9) "The Battle Of Kookamonga"—HOMER & JETHRO (1959) Well over two decades before Weird Al came along, the art of the music parody was already born in the form of this duo who lampooned Johnny Horton’s hit “The Battle of New Orleans” from earlier in ‘59. A veritable Dr. Demento classic, indeed.
8) "I Only Have Eyes For You"—THE FLAMINGOS (1959) Rather trippy doo-wop belly-rubber song that features the mysterious “guh-budge-uh-buh” backing vocal bit. I suspect this was quite the make-out favorite back in the day too…
7) "Come Go With Me"—DEL-VIKINGS (1957) Is there any song more quintessentially ‘50s than this one? “Dom-dom-dom-dom,” indeed!
6) "The Big Beat"—FATS DOMINO (1958) One listen to his greatest hits CD revealed to me that there’s a helluva lot more to the Fat Man than just “I‘m Walkin‘” and “Blueberry Hill”, and this song is my favorite of everything he’s done. I’m just thankful that Richie Cunningham or (even worse) Potsie Webber never sang this one…
5) "Stranded In The Jungle"—THE CADETS (1956) One of the funniest and most creative songs of any era, let alone the primitive ‘50s. “Meanwhile, back in the States…”
4) [Tie] "Good Golly Miss Molly" (1958)/"Keep-A-Knockin’"—LITTLE RICHARD (1957) Two classic screamers from Mr. Penniman that I can’t choose one over the other, so they’re in a dead heat. The former also inexplicably snuck past the censors with the line “sure like to ball”, and the latter, while poorly recorded, is a sassy little attitude piece that just cooks.
3) "Since I Don’t Have You"—THE SKYLINERS (1959) Lovely ballad that just glides along like a Lincoln Continental, featuring outstanding vocals by this group from Pittsburgh, of all places. Oddly enough, this one only got to #12 on the Billboard charts.
2) "Little Darlin’"—THE DIAMONDS (1957) Doo-wop, Canuck-style! These guys were from Toronto, and hit the Top 40 numerous times, but only scored three truly big hits, ”The Stroll”, a version of The Rays’ “Silhouettes” that hit the Top 10, and this classic, which features the entire vocal range from bass to falsetto.
1) "Get A Job"—THE SILHOUETTES (1958) Speaking of doo-wop, they don’t get no better than this one, which is the epitome of the genre. The group Sha Na Na no doubt took their name from this song. I wonder why no one took the name “Ba-Doom”…
A few sports quickies
HAVE A CHOKE AND A SMILE!
Congrats to the Philthadelphia Phillies for overtaking the New York Mets on the season's final day to win the National League East division, after the Metropolitans blew a 7-game lead with 17 games to go. Gotta give it up to the Phightin' Phils for keeping their collective eyes on the prize, even after getting off to a miserable start this season, then getting within a couple games of the Mets after sweeping them in a four-game series near the end of August, but slipping back almost immediately afterwards. Even though the Mets are a New York team, I don't hate them nearly as much as the Yankees, but this shit is still pretty funny...
SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST
Similar kudos to the Colorado Rockies for charging back from out of nowhere, winning even more games the last couple weeks than there are letters in Tulowitski (13 of their last 14, actually), to force a one-game playoff against the San Diego Padres tonight at Coors Field in Denver. Between the Rockies' recent success and the Colorado Buffaloes' shocking upset of Oklahoma on Saturday, the mighty Denver Broncos have been relegated to third-string on the Rocky Mountain sports depth chart, which is no mean feat. The Rockies are managed by former K.C. Royal Clint Hurdle, who was a big rookie pheenom in the late '70s—the "next George Brett", if you will—but he was done in by the dreaded "SI curse" when he appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and his playing career fizzled rather quickly. They should put more Yankees on the cover of SI, come to think of it...
THERE'S STILL NO "I" IN THIS TEAM—YET...
That would be the Kansas City Chefs, as I still refer to them, but another performance or two like they put on yesterday in San Diego, and I might just start calling them the "Chiefs" again. It took them a while to kick it into gear, but da Chefs owned the Chargers in the second half and won 30-16, and were sparked by rookie Dwayne Bowe's 164-yard receiving yards. With Denver and Oakland also at 2-2, things may not be so desolate for this team after all...
OVERKILL 101
While watching ESPN's pregame show tonight, I couldn't help but wonder why on earth it requires no less than three different teams of announcers to cover "Monday Night Football". First, we have Chris Berman, Tom Jackson, Bill Parcells, et al, in the studio, then there's the ever-irritating Stuart "I Must Constantly Remind You I'm A Brotha" Scott, Steve Young, etc., at the stadium, and finally, Mike "Sexual Harrasser" Tirico, Ron Jaworski and Tony Cornholio—er uh—Kornheiser in the booth during the game itself, along with not one, but two, sideline reporters—Michelle Tafoya and Mountain Dew adrenaline junkie Suzi Kolber. Back in the good ol' days, all they needed was Frank, Howie and Dandy Don for MNF instead of this ridiculous flotilla of personalities assigned to cover one freakin' game! ESPN doesn't seem to realize that bigger isn't necessarily better.
Congrats to the Philthadelphia Phillies for overtaking the New York Mets on the season's final day to win the National League East division, after the Metropolitans blew a 7-game lead with 17 games to go. Gotta give it up to the Phightin' Phils for keeping their collective eyes on the prize, even after getting off to a miserable start this season, then getting within a couple games of the Mets after sweeping them in a four-game series near the end of August, but slipping back almost immediately afterwards. Even though the Mets are a New York team, I don't hate them nearly as much as the Yankees, but this shit is still pretty funny...
SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST
Similar kudos to the Colorado Rockies for charging back from out of nowhere, winning even more games the last couple weeks than there are letters in Tulowitski (13 of their last 14, actually), to force a one-game playoff against the San Diego Padres tonight at Coors Field in Denver. Between the Rockies' recent success and the Colorado Buffaloes' shocking upset of Oklahoma on Saturday, the mighty Denver Broncos have been relegated to third-string on the Rocky Mountain sports depth chart, which is no mean feat. The Rockies are managed by former K.C. Royal Clint Hurdle, who was a big rookie pheenom in the late '70s—the "next George Brett", if you will—but he was done in by the dreaded "SI curse" when he appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and his playing career fizzled rather quickly. They should put more Yankees on the cover of SI, come to think of it...
THERE'S STILL NO "I" IN THIS TEAM—YET...
That would be the Kansas City Chefs, as I still refer to them, but another performance or two like they put on yesterday in San Diego, and I might just start calling them the "Chiefs" again. It took them a while to kick it into gear, but da Chefs owned the Chargers in the second half and won 30-16, and were sparked by rookie Dwayne Bowe's 164-yard receiving yards. With Denver and Oakland also at 2-2, things may not be so desolate for this team after all...
OVERKILL 101
While watching ESPN's pregame show tonight, I couldn't help but wonder why on earth it requires no less than three different teams of announcers to cover "Monday Night Football". First, we have Chris Berman, Tom Jackson, Bill Parcells, et al, in the studio, then there's the ever-irritating Stuart "I Must Constantly Remind You I'm A Brotha" Scott, Steve Young, etc., at the stadium, and finally, Mike "Sexual Harrasser" Tirico, Ron Jaworski and Tony Cornholio—er uh—Kornheiser in the booth during the game itself, along with not one, but two, sideline reporters—Michelle Tafoya and Mountain Dew adrenaline junkie Suzi Kolber. Back in the good ol' days, all they needed was Frank, Howie and Dandy Don for MNF instead of this ridiculous flotilla of personalities assigned to cover one freakin' game! ESPN doesn't seem to realize that bigger isn't necessarily better.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
It's late September...
...and I really should be back at school. What—only Chris Berman of ESPN can use that line now?!? Hah, I say—Hah!
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY FOR A DAYDREAM...
I had this wonderful dream today that Notre Dame went 0-5 after losing to Purdue. No wait—that really did happen!! Way to go, youse Boilermakers! And cheer up, all you Irish fanatics out there—I'm sure we can find a Pop Warner team out there for your gridiron heroes to open up a can of whoop-ass upon...
THE CUBS ARE IN THE SHOW!
Was most pleased that my favorite National League team made the playoffs yesterday. I became a Chicago Cubs fan in the summer of 1984 when I first got cable TV and enjoyed the work of everyone's favorite Cub fan/Bud Man, the late Harry Caray. I don't even give a rat's oblique that their record isn't all that impressive this year—no one else in the NL is exactly burning the world down this season either—Go Cubbies!
Just as an aside, last time I was in Chi-Town, I stopped by Wrigley Field to check out the Harry Caray statue outside the ballpark, and a woman was there with her little girl, the latter of whom asked, "Is that Drew Carey?" Freakin' priceless...
HEEEEERE'S JOHNNY!
I've been enjoying the newly-released "Johnny Cash Show" DVD set this week, and I'm most impressed. Not only have they restored this show (which debuted on ABC in 1969) to almost pristine condition, but I gotta give Cash credit (I just had to say that, sorry!) for the wide variety of singers he shared the stage of Nashville's Ryman Auditorium with for this show—everyone from George Jones to Louis Armstrong to (a beardless) Waylon Jennings to Stevie Wonder to Marty Robbins to Bob Dylan to Joni Mitchell to C.C.R. to Neil Young doing "The Needle And The Damage Done"—that song alone took some major balls to air on network TV in 1969! I also got a chuckle or two out of the red outfit the late and legendary Tammy Wynette wore, complete with silver boots, the likes of which weren't seen again until Shania Twain came along. Loretta Lynn was also quite a sight in her blatantly obvious wig, which probably had its own ZIP code. Still and all, this DVD set (narrated by singer Kris Kristofferson) is a wonderful time capsule from a bygone TV era that is well worth a look.
SHANGHAI-ED 120 MILES OR SO SOUTH OF SHANGHAI...
So much for my encouragement for the U.S. chick soccer team in the World Cup thang in China, as their head coach Greg Ryan surreptitiously replaced starting goalkeeper Hope Solo (no relation to Han, guitar or drum) in favor of Briana Scurry, who helped them win the Cup in '99, but is now like, really old, and Ms. Solo has won every fucking game this year so far. We lost to Brazil 4-zip, and while it's true that the U.S. team didn't exactly rack up any goals in this game, Coach Ryan violated one of the basic tenets of sports here: Dance with the one who brung ya! What a maroon...
CLAP FOR THE WOLFMAN!
I've been doing a little housecleaning this week, during which I unearthed this little gem (click pic to enlarge) from my personal archives, one of the few momentos I managed to smuggle away following the demise of "The Mighty 1030" KKJC-AM in Blue Springs, MO, the first (and best) radio station I ever worked at from November, 1986 until its untimely, albeit unavoidable, death on January 31, 1988 at 10PM, just after the Washington Redskins made John Elway and the Denver Broncos look like crash test dummies in the Stupor Bowl. This photo (and accompanying Raytown Post newspaper article) adorned the walls of our studio, detailing how the legendary Wolfman Jack dropped in for a visit in the Spring of 1985 (when the station was known as KBSM) in support of his syndicated Oldies show that aired on "Eastern Jackson County's Radio Station" at that time. It's a major honor to be able to truthfully say that I once actually operated the same control board (sometimes coherently) and spoke into the very same microphone as the mighty Wolfman! A brush with greatness, in a roundabout way—not unlike when I got to touch Jack Buck's mail slot during a tour of KMOX in St. Louis in the early '90s...
OH NO—HERE IT COMES AGAIN...
I only wish I was merely quoting Ronnie James Dio's first line from Black Sabbath's 1980 classic "Neon Knights", but sadly, I'm referring to the (C)Rock And Roll Hall of Fame's finalists for their Class of 2008. Hold on to yer hats folks and get a load of this malarkey: Madonna, John "Cougar" Mellencamp, The Beastie Boys (a Rap act, as I seem to recall), Donna Summer, Chic (both Disco acts, as I seem to recall), Leonard Cohen (who?), some Rap person/thing/country who bought way too many vowels named Afrika Bambaataa, The Dave Clark Five and The Ventures. In my eyes (and ears), the latter two entries are the only ones even worthy of a sniff of the HOF, but not before the likes of Kiss, Paul Revere & The Raiders, The Moody Blues, The Doobie Brothers, Three Dog Night, ABBA, Neil Diamond, Motorhead, Judas Priest...oh, fuck it—why do I bother with this, based on this asinine voting process?
And I hereby quote: "Nominees are chosen by a 70-member committee of label execs, rock historians and journalists, with ballots mailed to an international voting body of 700 music industry types."
By my count, that's 770 people that don't have clue about what Rock 'N' Roll truly is if they're even considering turds like the Beastie Boys. And I guaran-fuckin'-tee you these 770 mongoloids would sooner see Michael Bolton and Kid Rock in the RNRHOF than Def Leppard and Cheap Trick.
Oh well, at least the Country Music Hall of Fame gets it right...
HANG IN THERE, DOC...
A shout-out to my good friend Dr. Sardonicus: I know you're anxiously awaiting the better half of my Top 50 Songs of the '50s countdown, but I've been up to my eyeballs in home improvement projects this weekend, not to mention just plain reacting to everything else I've reacted to above, so please bear with me. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait, since my opinion carries damn near as much weight as those Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame heathens...
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY FOR A DAYDREAM...
I had this wonderful dream today that Notre Dame went 0-5 after losing to Purdue. No wait—that really did happen!! Way to go, youse Boilermakers! And cheer up, all you Irish fanatics out there—I'm sure we can find a Pop Warner team out there for your gridiron heroes to open up a can of whoop-ass upon...
THE CUBS ARE IN THE SHOW!
Was most pleased that my favorite National League team made the playoffs yesterday. I became a Chicago Cubs fan in the summer of 1984 when I first got cable TV and enjoyed the work of everyone's favorite Cub fan/Bud Man, the late Harry Caray. I don't even give a rat's oblique that their record isn't all that impressive this year—no one else in the NL is exactly burning the world down this season either—Go Cubbies!
Just as an aside, last time I was in Chi-Town, I stopped by Wrigley Field to check out the Harry Caray statue outside the ballpark, and a woman was there with her little girl, the latter of whom asked, "Is that Drew Carey?" Freakin' priceless...
HEEEEERE'S JOHNNY!
I've been enjoying the newly-released "Johnny Cash Show" DVD set this week, and I'm most impressed. Not only have they restored this show (which debuted on ABC in 1969) to almost pristine condition, but I gotta give Cash credit (I just had to say that, sorry!) for the wide variety of singers he shared the stage of Nashville's Ryman Auditorium with for this show—everyone from George Jones to Louis Armstrong to (a beardless) Waylon Jennings to Stevie Wonder to Marty Robbins to Bob Dylan to Joni Mitchell to C.C.R. to Neil Young doing "The Needle And The Damage Done"—that song alone took some major balls to air on network TV in 1969! I also got a chuckle or two out of the red outfit the late and legendary Tammy Wynette wore, complete with silver boots, the likes of which weren't seen again until Shania Twain came along. Loretta Lynn was also quite a sight in her blatantly obvious wig, which probably had its own ZIP code. Still and all, this DVD set (narrated by singer Kris Kristofferson) is a wonderful time capsule from a bygone TV era that is well worth a look.
SHANGHAI-ED 120 MILES OR SO SOUTH OF SHANGHAI...
So much for my encouragement for the U.S. chick soccer team in the World Cup thang in China, as their head coach Greg Ryan surreptitiously replaced starting goalkeeper Hope Solo (no relation to Han, guitar or drum) in favor of Briana Scurry, who helped them win the Cup in '99, but is now like, really old, and Ms. Solo has won every fucking game this year so far. We lost to Brazil 4-zip, and while it's true that the U.S. team didn't exactly rack up any goals in this game, Coach Ryan violated one of the basic tenets of sports here: Dance with the one who brung ya! What a maroon...
CLAP FOR THE WOLFMAN!
I've been doing a little housecleaning this week, during which I unearthed this little gem (click pic to enlarge) from my personal archives, one of the few momentos I managed to smuggle away following the demise of "The Mighty 1030" KKJC-AM in Blue Springs, MO, the first (and best) radio station I ever worked at from November, 1986 until its untimely, albeit unavoidable, death on January 31, 1988 at 10PM, just after the Washington Redskins made John Elway and the Denver Broncos look like crash test dummies in the Stupor Bowl. This photo (and accompanying Raytown Post newspaper article) adorned the walls of our studio, detailing how the legendary Wolfman Jack dropped in for a visit in the Spring of 1985 (when the station was known as KBSM) in support of his syndicated Oldies show that aired on "Eastern Jackson County's Radio Station" at that time. It's a major honor to be able to truthfully say that I once actually operated the same control board (sometimes coherently) and spoke into the very same microphone as the mighty Wolfman! A brush with greatness, in a roundabout way—not unlike when I got to touch Jack Buck's mail slot during a tour of KMOX in St. Louis in the early '90s...OH NO—HERE IT COMES AGAIN...
I only wish I was merely quoting Ronnie James Dio's first line from Black Sabbath's 1980 classic "Neon Knights", but sadly, I'm referring to the (C)Rock And Roll Hall of Fame's finalists for their Class of 2008. Hold on to yer hats folks and get a load of this malarkey: Madonna, John "Cougar" Mellencamp, The Beastie Boys (a Rap act, as I seem to recall), Donna Summer, Chic (both Disco acts, as I seem to recall), Leonard Cohen (who?), some Rap person/thing/country who bought way too many vowels named Afrika Bambaataa, The Dave Clark Five and The Ventures. In my eyes (and ears), the latter two entries are the only ones even worthy of a sniff of the HOF, but not before the likes of Kiss, Paul Revere & The Raiders, The Moody Blues, The Doobie Brothers, Three Dog Night, ABBA, Neil Diamond, Motorhead, Judas Priest...oh, fuck it—why do I bother with this, based on this asinine voting process?
And I hereby quote: "Nominees are chosen by a 70-member committee of label execs, rock historians and journalists, with ballots mailed to an international voting body of 700 music industry types."
By my count, that's 770 people that don't have clue about what Rock 'N' Roll truly is if they're even considering turds like the Beastie Boys. And I guaran-fuckin'-tee you these 770 mongoloids would sooner see Michael Bolton and Kid Rock in the RNRHOF than Def Leppard and Cheap Trick.
Oh well, at least the Country Music Hall of Fame gets it right...
HANG IN THERE, DOC...
A shout-out to my good friend Dr. Sardonicus: I know you're anxiously awaiting the better half of my Top 50 Songs of the '50s countdown, but I've been up to my eyeballs in home improvement projects this weekend, not to mention just plain reacting to everything else I've reacted to above, so please bear with me. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait, since my opinion carries damn near as much weight as those Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame heathens...
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Top 50 Songs From The '50s (That weren't done by Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry or Buddy Holly)--Part I
I’ve been tracking through my own homemade 10-disc chronological ‘50s CD set this week, and want to salute my favorites from that era that didn’t have the name Presley, Berry or Holly attached to them. Elvis, Chuck and Buddy easily combined for at least another 50 classics from the Fabulous ‘50s, so I’ll focus on that mighty triumvirate later, and give tribute to the best of everyone else here:
50) "Matchbox"—CARL PERKINS (1956) The Beatles covered this one in ‘63, but it barely clocked in at 1:45, for some reason. Carl’s version was a tad longer, and just as good…
49) "Kissin’ Time"—BOBBY RYDELL (1959) Okay, I’m a tad biased here because Kiss (reluctantly) recorded this one in 1974, but at least B. Rydell was good enough to mention Kansas City in the first verse, unlike that bastard bat-lizard G. Simmons! We Kansas Citians are a tad sensitive about things like this…
48) "Sea Of Love"—PHIL PHILLIPS (1959) Robert Plant chose a fine classic indeed to remake in 1985 under the Honeydrippers’ banner. It certainly oozes (not to mention drips) in sentimentality, and it works!
47) "(The Night Time Is) The Right Time"—RAY CHARLES (1958) Song made even more famous nearly 30 years later in an episode of “The Cosby Show”. Also covered by the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival and Otis Redding & Carla Thomas.
46) "La Bamba"—RITCHIE VALENS (1958) “Rock ‘N’ Roll in Spanish?” incredulous manager Bob Keane asks Ritchie in the film La Bamba. Why not?!? RV apparently had a head cold the day this was recorded, accounting for the somewhat nasally condition of his voice therein.
45) "Trickle, Trickle"—THE VIDEOS (1958) Obscure little doo-wop classic that didn’t even make the Top 40, but was later covered quite nicely by Manhattan Transfer in the late ‘70s.
44) "Sixteen Candles"—THE CRESTS (1958) Outstanding lead vocals by Johnny Maestro on this classic that eventually morphed into the Molly Ringwald movie of the same name, thus giving birth to the phrase. “Wot’s happenin’, Hot Stuff…”
43) "A Lover’s Question"—CLYDE McPHATTER (1958) Original lead singer for the ever-changing Drifters, this dude had a great voice and died way before his time in 1972.
42) "Summertime Blues"—EDDIE COCHRAN (1958) Another guy who died way before his time, yet was successfully channeled by Stray Cat Brian Setzer in La Bamba and by The Who on their classic Live At Leeds album.
41) "Chantilly Lace"—THE BIG BOPPER (1958) Jiles Perry Richardson was part of the doomed triumvirate on “The Day The Music Died”, but he excelled at novelty songs, and this one’s a classic of that genre. Seems as though he knew what we liked…
40) "Purple People Eater"—SHEB WOOLEY (1958) Another novelty song composer, ol’ Sheb was also a regular on TV’s “Rawhide” and also appeared in the film Hoosiers in 1986.
39) "This I Swear"—THE SKYLINERS (1959) Natural follow-up to their killer hit “Since I Don’t Have You”. The backing track is almost identical to that of its predecessor, but the vocals don’t quite soar as high…
38) "Do You Want To Dance?"—BOBBY FREEMAN (1958) Infectious little tune featuring that patented studio trick, the almighty false ending.
37) "Book Of Love"—THE MONOTONES (1958) “Well I wonder-wonder whom-ba-doo-hoo-whoomp—who wrote the book of love?” Doo-wop at its utterly silliest…
36) "At The Hop"—DANNY & THE JUNIORS (1957) Only song I know of that discusses Calypso-ing with a chicken, whatever that means…
35) "Silhouettes"—THE RAYS (1957) Doo-wop classic about some poor sap who’s on the wrong block. Haven't we all been there/done that at one time or another? Later successfully covered by Herman’s Hermits in 1965.
34) "Wake Up Little Susie"—EVERLY BROTHERS (1957) Phil & Don’s classic about copping a few Z’s in the movie theater. Yeah sure, likely excuse…
33) "Mr. Lee"—THE BOBBETTES (1957) Girl group classic that predated girl groups easily by three or four years...
32) "Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On"—JERRY LEE LEWIS (1957) Good gravy! How many pianny players were influenced by this song? Everyone from Elton John to Jon Lord of Deep Purple to even Benny Andersson of ABBA, and several others along the way…
31) "Love Is Strange"—MICKEY & SYLVIA (1957) Song made even more famous by the classic scene in 1987’s Dirty Dancing with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. Sylvia later had a fairly filthy hit record with her orgasmic whispery vocals on “Pillow Talk” in 1973.
30) "I Ain’t Got No Home"—CLARENCE “FROGMAN” HENRY (1956) Listen to this one, and you’ll quickly realize why they called him “Frogman”. Levon Helm of The Band had a little fun with the “Woo-woo-woo-ooh-ooh” bit on their early ‘70s cover version too…
29) "Shake Rattle And Roll"—BILL HALEY & HIS COMETS (1955) Sexist as all get-out, but a classic all the same. Elvis’ version is even better, but as previously stated, The King’s contributions are in a separate class…
28) "Tequila"—THE CHAMPS (1958) Pee-Wee Herman’s fave tune. Not to be confused with “Tacoma”, which isn’t nearly as mind-numbing…
27) "Long Tall Sally"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) Engrossing story about an apparently hairless woman, one “bald-headed Sally”, her Uncle John, and jumping back-and-forth in some misbegotten alley. Paul McCartney’s blistering vocals on The Beatles’ 1964 cover version (released precisely eight days after my birth) blows the original to the moon and back…
26) "Sleep Walk"—SANTO & JONNY (1959) Appropriately hypnotic instrumental that served as the coda for the La Bamba film.
50) "Matchbox"—CARL PERKINS (1956) The Beatles covered this one in ‘63, but it barely clocked in at 1:45, for some reason. Carl’s version was a tad longer, and just as good…
49) "Kissin’ Time"—BOBBY RYDELL (1959) Okay, I’m a tad biased here because Kiss (reluctantly) recorded this one in 1974, but at least B. Rydell was good enough to mention Kansas City in the first verse, unlike that bastard bat-lizard G. Simmons! We Kansas Citians are a tad sensitive about things like this…
48) "Sea Of Love"—PHIL PHILLIPS (1959) Robert Plant chose a fine classic indeed to remake in 1985 under the Honeydrippers’ banner. It certainly oozes (not to mention drips) in sentimentality, and it works!
47) "(The Night Time Is) The Right Time"—RAY CHARLES (1958) Song made even more famous nearly 30 years later in an episode of “The Cosby Show”. Also covered by the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival and Otis Redding & Carla Thomas.
46) "La Bamba"—RITCHIE VALENS (1958) “Rock ‘N’ Roll in Spanish?” incredulous manager Bob Keane asks Ritchie in the film La Bamba. Why not?!? RV apparently had a head cold the day this was recorded, accounting for the somewhat nasally condition of his voice therein.
45) "Trickle, Trickle"—THE VIDEOS (1958) Obscure little doo-wop classic that didn’t even make the Top 40, but was later covered quite nicely by Manhattan Transfer in the late ‘70s.
44) "Sixteen Candles"—THE CRESTS (1958) Outstanding lead vocals by Johnny Maestro on this classic that eventually morphed into the Molly Ringwald movie of the same name, thus giving birth to the phrase. “Wot’s happenin’, Hot Stuff…”
43) "A Lover’s Question"—CLYDE McPHATTER (1958) Original lead singer for the ever-changing Drifters, this dude had a great voice and died way before his time in 1972.
42) "Summertime Blues"—EDDIE COCHRAN (1958) Another guy who died way before his time, yet was successfully channeled by Stray Cat Brian Setzer in La Bamba and by The Who on their classic Live At Leeds album.
41) "Chantilly Lace"—THE BIG BOPPER (1958) Jiles Perry Richardson was part of the doomed triumvirate on “The Day The Music Died”, but he excelled at novelty songs, and this one’s a classic of that genre. Seems as though he knew what we liked…
40) "Purple People Eater"—SHEB WOOLEY (1958) Another novelty song composer, ol’ Sheb was also a regular on TV’s “Rawhide” and also appeared in the film Hoosiers in 1986.
39) "This I Swear"—THE SKYLINERS (1959) Natural follow-up to their killer hit “Since I Don’t Have You”. The backing track is almost identical to that of its predecessor, but the vocals don’t quite soar as high…
38) "Do You Want To Dance?"—BOBBY FREEMAN (1958) Infectious little tune featuring that patented studio trick, the almighty false ending.
37) "Book Of Love"—THE MONOTONES (1958) “Well I wonder-wonder whom-ba-doo-hoo-whoomp—who wrote the book of love?” Doo-wop at its utterly silliest…
36) "At The Hop"—DANNY & THE JUNIORS (1957) Only song I know of that discusses Calypso-ing with a chicken, whatever that means…
35) "Silhouettes"—THE RAYS (1957) Doo-wop classic about some poor sap who’s on the wrong block. Haven't we all been there/done that at one time or another? Later successfully covered by Herman’s Hermits in 1965.
34) "Wake Up Little Susie"—EVERLY BROTHERS (1957) Phil & Don’s classic about copping a few Z’s in the movie theater. Yeah sure, likely excuse…
33) "Mr. Lee"—THE BOBBETTES (1957) Girl group classic that predated girl groups easily by three or four years...
32) "Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On"—JERRY LEE LEWIS (1957) Good gravy! How many pianny players were influenced by this song? Everyone from Elton John to Jon Lord of Deep Purple to even Benny Andersson of ABBA, and several others along the way…
31) "Love Is Strange"—MICKEY & SYLVIA (1957) Song made even more famous by the classic scene in 1987’s Dirty Dancing with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. Sylvia later had a fairly filthy hit record with her orgasmic whispery vocals on “Pillow Talk” in 1973.
30) "I Ain’t Got No Home"—CLARENCE “FROGMAN” HENRY (1956) Listen to this one, and you’ll quickly realize why they called him “Frogman”. Levon Helm of The Band had a little fun with the “Woo-woo-woo-ooh-ooh” bit on their early ‘70s cover version too…
29) "Shake Rattle And Roll"—BILL HALEY & HIS COMETS (1955) Sexist as all get-out, but a classic all the same. Elvis’ version is even better, but as previously stated, The King’s contributions are in a separate class…
28) "Tequila"—THE CHAMPS (1958) Pee-Wee Herman’s fave tune. Not to be confused with “Tacoma”, which isn’t nearly as mind-numbing…
27) "Long Tall Sally"—LITTLE RICHARD (1956) Engrossing story about an apparently hairless woman, one “bald-headed Sally”, her Uncle John, and jumping back-and-forth in some misbegotten alley. Paul McCartney’s blistering vocals on The Beatles’ 1964 cover version (released precisely eight days after my birth) blows the original to the moon and back…
26) "Sleep Walk"—SANTO & JONNY (1959) Appropriately hypnotic instrumental that served as the coda for the La Bamba film.
Boogie On, Reggae Blogger
I'M A MAN, YES I AM, AND I CAN'T HELP BUT LOVE YOU SO...
So claimed Oklahoma State football coach Mike Gundy during his now-infamous post-game tirade on Saturday (the "I'm A Man" part, anyway), as he went after Daily Oklahoman columnist Jenni Carlson for an article she wrote which criticized OSU's QB Bobby Reid and allegedly questioned his manhood, etc. I haven't read the article so I don't know if Carlson's assertions are true or not, nor do I really care—in my eyes this was just bullshit macho bravado histrionics put on by the coach of a college football team grossly overshadowed by a far-superior one just 80 miles or so down the road in Norman who is desperate to keep his name and school (ironically) in the papers. A little footnote here: Jenni Carlson and I were co-workers for a brief time when I moonlighted as a stats editor at the K.C. Star back in the '90s when she was first starting out in the business. She never came across to me as being malicious or as someone who would intentionally smear someone, and to her credit, Jenni is standing by her story and her sources. As for Mr. Gundy, even if his concerns with Carlson's article are valid, he should have dealt with her and/or the editors of the paper in private instead of pissing all over what should have been a celebration of his team's VICTORY over Texas Tech at a post-game press conference. I repeat, folks--a VICTORY! Sorry, coach G., you are totally classless...
And oh yeah, as for this notion that anyone (be it print media professionals, or—heaven forbid—schmucks like yours truly) have the unmitigated gall to criticize amateur athletes solely because they ain't getting paid, that's a bunch of caca! It's not like anyone's forcing these guys to participate in collegiate athletics, so they're fair game in my book—especially starting quarterbacks—so, suck it up and deal with it, all you Peyton Manning wanna-be's!
VAN WHO-LEN?
I spent some quality time at the library today (aka Barnes & Noble) thumbing through that new book Everybody Wants Some!!—The Van Halen Saga and it's a damn good read. I'm too cheap to pay the $28 for the hardcover version, so I've just been skipping around reading the juicy parts, and there's some very interesting shit to behold. Evidently the rift between Eddie Van Halen and David Lee Roth went as far back as the Fair Warning album in 1981, at which point EVH considered leaving the band. By the end of the 1984 tour, Eddie, Alex and Michael Anthony all could no longer stand Diamond Dave's bullshit, even though by all outward appearances everything was just peachy. When Roth did indeed leave the band in 1985, other musicians (besides Sammy Hagar) talked of collaborating/working with VH, including Phil Collins, Brian May of Queen and—most intriguingly—Pete Townshend of The Who. I can't see that one working in a million years—those gi-normous egos would've cancelled each other out, but it might've been fun trying. Near as I could tell, the book doesn't mention that there was actually talk of Eddie Van Halen joining Kiss in 1982 after Ace Frehley left. One shudders to think what Ed would've looked like in Kiss make-up...
SMOKE FROM A DISTANT VICK
Seems that everyone's favorite dog lover has also now tested positive for marijuana. Is it just me, or does M. Vick fuck up just about as often as the band Foghat changes bass players? Still, I'm sure the NAACP Vickweeds out there will continue to insist that poor Snoop Mikey Mike deserves a (thirty)second chance at redemption, because as we all know, black people never do anything wrong...
CHICK SOCCER RULES!
Best of luck to the United States womens soccer team in the World Cup semifinals against Brazil in China tomorrow morning (our time). Unlike chick basketball, I can actually sit through a women's soccer game and enjoy it. Women playing basketball always looks so awkward and amateur-ish to me, but the girls play soccer (and hockey too, for that matter) much more fluidly, and are every bit as tough as the guys at times. In best Oprah/Tyra Banks parlance: You go, girls!
WHEN MASCOTS ATTACK!
Kudos to my favorite sports mascot this side of The Famous Chicken and Truman The (M.U.) Tiger, as the Chiefs' K.C. Wolf made a sizeable assist in the apprehension of a stupid drunk fuck running onto the field at Arrowhead on Sunday. It was certainly better than any tackle the Chefs made on Sunday...
OH SO ORIGINAL!
VH-1 Classic has been recently hyping the first "solo" album by Ann Wilson of Heart, which naturally is comprised of nothing but remakes of other people's songs, like the Youngbloods' '60s epic "Get Together" and Led Zeppelin's "The Immigrant Song". I love AW to death here, but this ain't exactly winning me over, although I do give her a couple style points for duetting with Elton John on his obscure and underrated track "Where To Now, St. Peter?". I know I've posed this question before, but why the filth-flarn-filth can't (or won't) Classic Rock people come up anything new nowadays?!? Apart from U2, Tom Petty, Sir Elton himself, and Bruce Springsteen (whose new song "Radio Nowhere" ain't half-bad, btw), we get nothing but albums full of cover songs from everyone today! Hell, even that hick Mellencamp at least still puts out new—albeit inferior—original material today. Has Rock 'N' Roll truly run out of things to say?
So claimed Oklahoma State football coach Mike Gundy during his now-infamous post-game tirade on Saturday (the "I'm A Man" part, anyway), as he went after Daily Oklahoman columnist Jenni Carlson for an article she wrote which criticized OSU's QB Bobby Reid and allegedly questioned his manhood, etc. I haven't read the article so I don't know if Carlson's assertions are true or not, nor do I really care—in my eyes this was just bullshit macho bravado histrionics put on by the coach of a college football team grossly overshadowed by a far-superior one just 80 miles or so down the road in Norman who is desperate to keep his name and school (ironically) in the papers. A little footnote here: Jenni Carlson and I were co-workers for a brief time when I moonlighted as a stats editor at the K.C. Star back in the '90s when she was first starting out in the business. She never came across to me as being malicious or as someone who would intentionally smear someone, and to her credit, Jenni is standing by her story and her sources. As for Mr. Gundy, even if his concerns with Carlson's article are valid, he should have dealt with her and/or the editors of the paper in private instead of pissing all over what should have been a celebration of his team's VICTORY over Texas Tech at a post-game press conference. I repeat, folks--a VICTORY! Sorry, coach G., you are totally classless...
And oh yeah, as for this notion that anyone (be it print media professionals, or—heaven forbid—schmucks like yours truly) have the unmitigated gall to criticize amateur athletes solely because they ain't getting paid, that's a bunch of caca! It's not like anyone's forcing these guys to participate in collegiate athletics, so they're fair game in my book—especially starting quarterbacks—so, suck it up and deal with it, all you Peyton Manning wanna-be's!
VAN WHO-LEN?
I spent some quality time at the library today (aka Barnes & Noble) thumbing through that new book Everybody Wants Some!!—The Van Halen Saga and it's a damn good read. I'm too cheap to pay the $28 for the hardcover version, so I've just been skipping around reading the juicy parts, and there's some very interesting shit to behold. Evidently the rift between Eddie Van Halen and David Lee Roth went as far back as the Fair Warning album in 1981, at which point EVH considered leaving the band. By the end of the 1984 tour, Eddie, Alex and Michael Anthony all could no longer stand Diamond Dave's bullshit, even though by all outward appearances everything was just peachy. When Roth did indeed leave the band in 1985, other musicians (besides Sammy Hagar) talked of collaborating/working with VH, including Phil Collins, Brian May of Queen and—most intriguingly—Pete Townshend of The Who. I can't see that one working in a million years—those gi-normous egos would've cancelled each other out, but it might've been fun trying. Near as I could tell, the book doesn't mention that there was actually talk of Eddie Van Halen joining Kiss in 1982 after Ace Frehley left. One shudders to think what Ed would've looked like in Kiss make-up...
SMOKE FROM A DISTANT VICK
Seems that everyone's favorite dog lover has also now tested positive for marijuana. Is it just me, or does M. Vick fuck up just about as often as the band Foghat changes bass players? Still, I'm sure the NAACP Vickweeds out there will continue to insist that poor Snoop Mikey Mike deserves a (thirty)second chance at redemption, because as we all know, black people never do anything wrong...
CHICK SOCCER RULES!
Best of luck to the United States womens soccer team in the World Cup semifinals against Brazil in China tomorrow morning (our time). Unlike chick basketball, I can actually sit through a women's soccer game and enjoy it. Women playing basketball always looks so awkward and amateur-ish to me, but the girls play soccer (and hockey too, for that matter) much more fluidly, and are every bit as tough as the guys at times. In best Oprah/Tyra Banks parlance: You go, girls!
WHEN MASCOTS ATTACK!
Kudos to my favorite sports mascot this side of The Famous Chicken and Truman The (M.U.) Tiger, as the Chiefs' K.C. Wolf made a sizeable assist in the apprehension of a stupid drunk fuck running onto the field at Arrowhead on Sunday. It was certainly better than any tackle the Chefs made on Sunday...
OH SO ORIGINAL!
VH-1 Classic has been recently hyping the first "solo" album by Ann Wilson of Heart, which naturally is comprised of nothing but remakes of other people's songs, like the Youngbloods' '60s epic "Get Together" and Led Zeppelin's "The Immigrant Song". I love AW to death here, but this ain't exactly winning me over, although I do give her a couple style points for duetting with Elton John on his obscure and underrated track "Where To Now, St. Peter?". I know I've posed this question before, but why the filth-flarn-filth can't (or won't) Classic Rock people come up anything new nowadays?!? Apart from U2, Tom Petty, Sir Elton himself, and Bruce Springsteen (whose new song "Radio Nowhere" ain't half-bad, btw), we get nothing but albums full of cover songs from everyone today! Hell, even that hick Mellencamp at least still puts out new—albeit inferior—original material today. Has Rock 'N' Roll truly run out of things to say?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Ultimate 0-4!
HAIL TO THE SPARTANS!
How 'bout 'dem Fighting Irish, eh? Need I say more? Out of respect to my readers who are ND fans, I won't rub it in any more than I have to, but at least Michigan State has figured out how to win in South Bend over the last 12 years or so. And this just in, Notre Dame fans—your football team sucks like a freakin' Hoover!!!
MARCEL MARCEAU, 1923-2007
Legendary mime Marcel Marceau died yesterday at age 84. Sorry, but I can't resist this—a moment of silence, please...
MM's only spoken role in film was in Mel Brooks' 1976 parody Silent Movie, which may well have been the most profound piece of irony this side of Frank Beard being the only clean-shaven member of ZZ Top...
HAIL TO THE WEENIES!
Every time I see Dauschounds (sp?) running, it makes me chuckle. I don't know why...
RIGHTEOUS BUCKS
$40 for Smothers Brothers tickets at Ameristar Casino in K.C.? By my count, that's precisely one Yankee dollar for every year since the Smo Bros. were actually relevant...
A HEARTFELT SALUTE
To one of my closest and hardest-working partners in my life, my mighty GE SuperRadio, which I listened to the Chiefs game on today because the Fox-TV NFL play-by-play team was so utterly sub-standard. Mom gave me this rascal for Christmas in 1980, and he's been one of the most dependable pieces of man-made technology I've ever owned, in spite of years and years of being dropped, rained-on, overheated, battered by errant racquetballs, and worse yet—being forced to play caca like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity (against my better judgment)—yet he's still standing tall and producing fine fidelity...
HOME OF THE CHIEFS?
On the sports talk radio front the other day, I heard some Southern good ol' boy giving football odds info on the Kansas City Chiefs because they have a definitive home field advantage at something called "Airhead" Stadium. A very prescient comment, considering the way El Chiefos have been playing lately, but they did the Rolling Stones proud by "Winning Ugly" today, 13-10 over Minnesota at The 'Head...
WITH SATAN ON MY SIDE, I SHALL PREVAIL...AGAIN!
That would be the New York Islanders' Miroslav Satan, (pronounced Shuh-TAN, by youse Americans), who landed on my fantasy hockey team again in the draft as I prepare to defend my 2006-07 champeenship title again dis year. Great player with a killer name—it's just a dirty shame Satan doesn't play for the New Jersey Devils, but we can't have everything, now can we?
While I'm on fantasy sports, it would appear that beleaguered Eagles QB Donovan McNabb has been reconnected with his Mojo, throwing for 381 yards and 4 TDs today as the Iggles dismantled the Detroit Lions, 56-21 (despite all four of the Fox-TV talking heads picking the Lions to win). I only mention this because last week, Philly's receivers couldn't even catch a cold, yet former St. Louis Lamb Kevin Curtis had 221 yards and 3 TD's for the Eagles, and Brian Westbrook (cool first name) also had 221 total yards (receiving and rushing) and 3 TDs—and both these guys are on my fantasy team, as is kicker David Akers and his 8 extra points. As E. Cartman once said, "Sweet..."
LOOOOOKING GOOD!
While I'm on the NFL, a tip of the hat to the Washington Redskins for sporting their 1970-71 throwback helmets and uniforms from the early George Allen era today vs. the New Yawk Giants. Talk about taking me back to a simpler time—shades of Pat Fischer, Billy Kilmer, Larry Brown, Kurt Knight, Mike Bragg, Chris Hanburger and Roy Jefferson! Those uni's with the yellow helmets and pants were prevalent when I first started watching football on the TV when I was 6-7 years old, and the colors and the logo still resonate with me to this day, even though the 'Skins look a lot different in the modern day. Any of my football brethren feel the same way? As for the Philadelphia Eagles' throwback helmets and uniforms also worn today, they missed the boat—these things were Fugly personified! Shoulda gone with the 1970-73 Bill Bradley/Tom Dempsey-era uniforms with the white helmets and green wings—then we'd really have something to talk about...
HELP ME FIND THIS GIRL, PLEASE!
Y'all ever see this goofy '60s movie called Pop Gear? It was a a showcase for British Invasion groups like the Animals, the Honeycombs ("Have I The Right?"), Peter & Gordon and Herman's Hermits that often airs on Flix and IndiePlex, and it also features this unsung cutie named Billie Davis who I've sorta fallen in love with, seeing's as she's a cross between Bernadette Peters (sonically) and Susanna Hoffs of The Bangles (visually), and her song "Whatcha Gonna Do" was quite the in-thing in 1964, according to the movie. I'd love to see this girl on DVD, if she's out there. And while you're there, these guys are a total hoot, too...
TELLIN' IT LIKE IT REALLY IS...
It took me about 30 some-odd years, but it finally dawned on me what certain song titles and lyrics truly meant, so imagine how I felt when I learned that things weren't as innocuous as they seemed when I was a kid, as the terms "touch" and "love", etc., really meant something a little more hardcore. Thusly, Diana Ross' lovely 1973 song should've been called "Fuck Me In The Morning" (then just walk away!), Dan Hill's 1977 treacly ballad should've been called "Sometimes When We Fuck" and Englebert What-his-dinck's love song from the same year was basically "After The Fuckin'". Seriously, am I right or what? Much more to come (cum?) later on this very subject, but suffice it to say that my eyes have been opened...
How 'bout 'dem Fighting Irish, eh? Need I say more? Out of respect to my readers who are ND fans, I won't rub it in any more than I have to, but at least Michigan State has figured out how to win in South Bend over the last 12 years or so. And this just in, Notre Dame fans—your football team sucks like a freakin' Hoover!!!
MARCEL MARCEAU, 1923-2007
Legendary mime Marcel Marceau died yesterday at age 84. Sorry, but I can't resist this—a moment of silence, please...
MM's only spoken role in film was in Mel Brooks' 1976 parody Silent Movie, which may well have been the most profound piece of irony this side of Frank Beard being the only clean-shaven member of ZZ Top...
HAIL TO THE WEENIES!
Every time I see Dauschounds (sp?) running, it makes me chuckle. I don't know why...RIGHTEOUS BUCKS
$40 for Smothers Brothers tickets at Ameristar Casino in K.C.? By my count, that's precisely one Yankee dollar for every year since the Smo Bros. were actually relevant...
A HEARTFELT SALUTE
To one of my closest and hardest-working partners in my life, my mighty GE SuperRadio, which I listened to the Chiefs game on today because the Fox-TV NFL play-by-play team was so utterly sub-standard. Mom gave me this rascal for Christmas in 1980, and he's been one of the most dependable pieces of man-made technology I've ever owned, in spite of years and years of being dropped, rained-on, overheated, battered by errant racquetballs, and worse yet—being forced to play caca like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity (against my better judgment)—yet he's still standing tall and producing fine fidelity...HOME OF THE CHIEFS?
On the sports talk radio front the other day, I heard some Southern good ol' boy giving football odds info on the Kansas City Chiefs because they have a definitive home field advantage at something called "Airhead" Stadium. A very prescient comment, considering the way El Chiefos have been playing lately, but they did the Rolling Stones proud by "Winning Ugly" today, 13-10 over Minnesota at The 'Head...
WITH SATAN ON MY SIDE, I SHALL PREVAIL...AGAIN!
That would be the New York Islanders' Miroslav Satan, (pronounced Shuh-TAN, by youse Americans), who landed on my fantasy hockey team again in the draft as I prepare to defend my 2006-07 champeenship title again dis year. Great player with a killer name—it's just a dirty shame Satan doesn't play for the New Jersey Devils, but we can't have everything, now can we?
While I'm on fantasy sports, it would appear that beleaguered Eagles QB Donovan McNabb has been reconnected with his Mojo, throwing for 381 yards and 4 TDs today as the Iggles dismantled the Detroit Lions, 56-21 (despite all four of the Fox-TV talking heads picking the Lions to win). I only mention this because last week, Philly's receivers couldn't even catch a cold, yet former St. Louis Lamb Kevin Curtis had 221 yards and 3 TD's for the Eagles, and Brian Westbrook (cool first name) also had 221 total yards (receiving and rushing) and 3 TDs—and both these guys are on my fantasy team, as is kicker David Akers and his 8 extra points. As E. Cartman once said, "Sweet..."
LOOOOOKING GOOD!
While I'm on the NFL, a tip of the hat to the Washington Redskins for sporting their 1970-71 throwback helmets and uniforms from the early George Allen era today vs. the New Yawk Giants. Talk about taking me back to a simpler time—shades of Pat Fischer, Billy Kilmer, Larry Brown, Kurt Knight, Mike Bragg, Chris Hanburger and Roy Jefferson! Those uni's with the yellow helmets and pants were prevalent when I first started watching football on the TV when I was 6-7 years old, and the colors and the logo still resonate with me to this day, even though the 'Skins look a lot different in the modern day. Any of my football brethren feel the same way? As for the Philadelphia Eagles' throwback helmets and uniforms also worn today, they missed the boat—these things were Fugly personified! Shoulda gone with the 1970-73 Bill Bradley/Tom Dempsey-era uniforms with the white helmets and green wings—then we'd really have something to talk about...
HELP ME FIND THIS GIRL, PLEASE!
Y'all ever see this goofy '60s movie called Pop Gear? It was a a showcase for British Invasion groups like the Animals, the Honeycombs ("Have I The Right?"), Peter & Gordon and Herman's Hermits that often airs on Flix and IndiePlex, and it also features this unsung cutie named Billie Davis who I've sorta fallen in love with, seeing's as she's a cross between Bernadette Peters (sonically) and Susanna Hoffs of The Bangles (visually), and her song "Whatcha Gonna Do" was quite the in-thing in 1964, according to the movie. I'd love to see this girl on DVD, if she's out there. And while you're there, these guys are a total hoot, too...
TELLIN' IT LIKE IT REALLY IS...
It took me about 30 some-odd years, but it finally dawned on me what certain song titles and lyrics truly meant, so imagine how I felt when I learned that things weren't as innocuous as they seemed when I was a kid, as the terms "touch" and "love", etc., really meant something a little more hardcore. Thusly, Diana Ross' lovely 1973 song should've been called "Fuck Me In The Morning" (then just walk away!), Dan Hill's 1977 treacly ballad should've been called "Sometimes When We Fuck" and Englebert What-his-dinck's love song from the same year was basically "After The Fuckin'". Seriously, am I right or what? Much more to come (cum?) later on this very subject, but suffice it to say that my eyes have been opened...
Friday, September 21, 2007
Coulter-geist!
There's nothing I love better (moreso than a Notre Dame loss, anyway) than slamming a conservative nitwit, so let me present to you, dear readers, some of Ann Coulter's greatest hits. Even though "she" has had a meltdown or two, "she" still likes to blame Canada for all the world's problems, and isn't above whining now and then.
Sad to say that many of Ann's faithful supporters are parting ways with "her", but at least a few were still kind enough to pay heartfelt tribute to "her". Then again, what can you say about someone who utters things like "things are going swimmingly in Afghanistan" and other mindless banalities for the ignorant masses to absorb?
As you view these videos, I again urge you to consider the same two questions I always pose about Ann Coulter: 1) Does this "woman" not have an Adam's Apple the size of Dallas in the middle of Texas? and 2) If this "woman" is so damn conservative, then why does she dress so skankily it would make Britney Spears blush?
And on that note, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the one and only Aerosmith!
Sad to say that many of Ann's faithful supporters are parting ways with "her", but at least a few were still kind enough to pay heartfelt tribute to "her". Then again, what can you say about someone who utters things like "things are going swimmingly in Afghanistan" and other mindless banalities for the ignorant masses to absorb?
As you view these videos, I again urge you to consider the same two questions I always pose about Ann Coulter: 1) Does this "woman" not have an Adam's Apple the size of Dallas in the middle of Texas? and 2) If this "woman" is so damn conservative, then why does she dress so skankily it would make Britney Spears blush?
And on that note, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the one and only Aerosmith!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Same ol' shit, different underwear...
POTTY MOUTH!
No doubt y’all heard about actress Sally Field getting bleeped by Fox TV during Sunday night’s annual Enema—sorry—Emmy Awards broadcast when she made anti-Iraq War remarks during her acceptance speech. Much debate has since ensued about whether Fox was censoring Field because she used the term "Goddamned" or because she protested the war (I personally think it was a little of both) but the bleeping was rather unnecessary anyway because according to the Nielsen ratings, no one watched the show in the first place! Fox, of all networks, oughtta know better than to go head-to-head against the NFL in prime-time anyway. Just to show you how much I watch current series TV anymore, I wasn't even aware Sally Field was on a network show this season...
And I have no doubt that Bill O’Reilly seized the opportunity to get up on his soap box this week and condemn Sally Field and every other "Hollywood type" who has spoken out against the war, labeling them unpatriotic bleeding-heart liberals, yadda x 3. While I do agree that Sally’s choice of words was inappropriate for the setting, and an award show is not the proper forum for political protests, I side with Ms. Field. I also thought Michael Moore's tirade on Dubya was out of line at the Oscars a few years back (even though I totally agreed with him), but this is still America, and we do have this thing called freedom of speech. As for O’Reilly, Hannity, Malkin, Limbaugh, Coulter and all the other conservative pundits who so avidly bash anyone who protests this stupid fucking war (that would include me), if you didn't know any better, you’d think they want this damn thing to just go on forever and ever…
MR. POT, MEET MR. KETTLE—YOU’RE BLACK!
Speaking of Billy Bad-Ass, I couldn’t help but chuckle at him calling Barry Alan Pincus a "pinhead" on "O’Reilly Factor" last night. You might know Mr. Pincus better as singer Barry Manilow, and B.O. (what appropriate initials, btw) proceeded to rip ol’ Bare for—horror of horrors—his refusal to appear on ABC’s "The View" this week because he didn’t want to be interviewed by his friend Rosie O’Donnell’s arch-enemy, the ever-conservative Elisabeth Hasselbeck. Evidently, this makes Barry a "pinhead" in O’Reilly’s book. As we used to say when I was a kid, it takes one to know one, Bill!
This is so typical of O’Reilly’s bullying style of "fair and balanced" editorializing, too. What is Barry Manilow anyway, but a schlocky has-been ‘70s singer who now relies on singing other people’s schlocky ‘70s songs to prolong his long-dormant career because he can’t come up with any new material—why should it matter to a douche like Bill O’Reilly what show Manilow appears on, much less who interviews him? Oh, by the way, Elisabeth Hasselbeck is a fucking airhead, and regardless of what her political affiliation might be, anyone who formulates their political views by watching this vapid waste of TV airtime ("The View") should start using their head for something besides a hat rack. Come to think of it, the same could also be said for "O’Reilly Factor"…
HAPPY B-DAY TO THE REAL BATMAN…
Actor Adam West turns 77 today. Fuck Val Kilmer, fuck Michael Keaton and fuck anyone else who portrays the Caped Crusader—Adam West is the only Batman who's officially recognized in my house...
YET ANOTHER GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING…
These are heady days for stand-up comics and TV news outlets the world over, and they owe a debt of gratitude to Orenthal James Simpson, don’t they? Evidently his search for the "real killers" led him to a hotel room in Vegas where someone had his memorabilia stashed away, and now he faces more time in the pokey for attempted armed robbery, kidnapping and just generally being a moron. And of course, all the O.J. apologists and sycophants out there are crying foul that The Juice was gas-lighted this time, but I'm having none of it. Is there any shadow of a doubt what an asshole this guy is? And yes, I think he’s guilty as hell of double murder, too…
K.C. CONCERT TICKET FUBAR, EPISODE II
Thousands of Kansas City parents are pretty cheesed-off about how quickly tickets were snapped-up over the weekend for the upcoming Hannah Montana concert. For the second time in a month, tickets for a Sprint Center show went on sale at 10AM and were history by 10:01AM, not unlike what happened with Elton John tickets, yet all the ticket broker outlets have plenty of overpriced tickets for sale once again, thus leading folks (including me) to suspect foul play/collusion on the part of TicketBastard. While I have to question why any prepubescent wants to see this schizophrenic chick singer who in mid-show morphs from this blonde wig-wearing Hannah Montana persona into Billy Ray Cyrus’ mullet-free brunette daughter Miley (what a pedigree, huh?), I can certainly understand people’s frustration here, and you can’t tell me there ain’t some sort of racket going on in the ticket biz these days. Makes me long for the days of camping out overnight for concert tickets behind the strip mall at Tiger's Records (remember them, K.C. readers?) back in the day...
NO RACE CARD-PLAYING, PLEASE
Embattled Philadelphia Eagles QB Donovan McNabb claimed on HBO this week that black quarterbacks in the NFL have more criticism heaped on them by the media and the fans than their white counterparts. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always liked McNabb myself, and find him to be a classy player—hell, I even have a McNabb replica jersey in my collection. I also staunchly defended him when Rush Limbaugh made his ignorant remarks on ESPN about him a few years ago, but I’m not buying this one. Even after factoring the over-zealous Philly fan base and sports media into the mix, I have two words for Donovan regarding QBs getting unfairly criticized: Rex Grossman. And here’s two more: Eli Manning. And two more: Joey Harrington.
BRETT SOMERS, 1924-2007
I want to acknowledge the passing of comedienne Brett Somers, who died of colon cancer on Saturday at age 83. Seems rather ironic that she passed away within a few months of her de facto partner-in-crime on "Match Game", Charles Nelson Reilly. I grew up on game shows back in the ‘70s, and "Match Game" was a regular staple of mine (when I wasn’t in school, that is), and it’s still fun to watch the reruns on GSN. I never knew it at the time, but the banter between Somers and Reilly would often intensify as the week wore on, and by the Friday broadcasts they were usually in full-goose-bozo razzing mode with each other. The reason for this phenomenon is fairly simple—they taped all the week’s episodes on the same day, one after the other, and apparently alcohol was readily available between shows, so nature took its course, and voila! "Match Game" regular Richard Dawson was known to imbibe quite a bit on the show, as well. R.I.P. Brett, you were one funny dame...
I used to wonder why Game Show Network chose to emphasize "Match Game" so much in favor of other classic game shows, but sadly the answer is that’s really all they have to choose from. In one of the all-time biggest crimes against humanity, network TV executives back in the late ‘70s decreed there wouldn’t be any future use for the videotapes of old game shows, thus many of them were either destroyed or re-used for other programming. What a crying shame! ABC and NBC were especially guilty of this practice, therefore virtually all of their game show output from the ‘60s and ‘70s is gone, apart from a handful of episodes of the original "Hollywood Squares" that are still in captivity. At least CBS had the forethought to hang on to some of their game show videos, like "Match Game", "The Joker’s Wild" and the ‘60s version of "Password". A few shows from other networks survived, like "Let's Make A Deal", "$10,000 Pyramid" and "Card Sharks" but those are the rare exceptions. Tragically, this generation has been deprived of seeing so many wonderful game shows from back in the day, like two early Alex Trebek classics like "The Wizard Of Odds" and "High Rollers", along with other classics like "Jackpot", "Split Second" and "Concentration", and especially shows that involved celebrity guests like "Baffle", "Celebrity Sweepstakes" and the '70s version of "Password" on ABC.
There's also a short-lived game show that I would give my left nut to see just one episode of again, "The Magnificent Marble Machine". It only ran for one season on NBC in 1974-75, which is roughly the same time Elton John's version of The Who's "Pinball Wizard" was all over the radio. "TMMM" was this huge pinball machine that you could actually stand on, and the contestants had to maneuver the silver ball, which was about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, around with these mammoth "flippers". It was at least a creative show, if not a long-lived one.
No doubt y’all heard about actress Sally Field getting bleeped by Fox TV during Sunday night’s annual Enema—sorry—Emmy Awards broadcast when she made anti-Iraq War remarks during her acceptance speech. Much debate has since ensued about whether Fox was censoring Field because she used the term "Goddamned" or because she protested the war (I personally think it was a little of both) but the bleeping was rather unnecessary anyway because according to the Nielsen ratings, no one watched the show in the first place! Fox, of all networks, oughtta know better than to go head-to-head against the NFL in prime-time anyway. Just to show you how much I watch current series TV anymore, I wasn't even aware Sally Field was on a network show this season...
And I have no doubt that Bill O’Reilly seized the opportunity to get up on his soap box this week and condemn Sally Field and every other "Hollywood type" who has spoken out against the war, labeling them unpatriotic bleeding-heart liberals, yadda x 3. While I do agree that Sally’s choice of words was inappropriate for the setting, and an award show is not the proper forum for political protests, I side with Ms. Field. I also thought Michael Moore's tirade on Dubya was out of line at the Oscars a few years back (even though I totally agreed with him), but this is still America, and we do have this thing called freedom of speech. As for O’Reilly, Hannity, Malkin, Limbaugh, Coulter and all the other conservative pundits who so avidly bash anyone who protests this stupid fucking war (that would include me), if you didn't know any better, you’d think they want this damn thing to just go on forever and ever…
MR. POT, MEET MR. KETTLE—YOU’RE BLACK!
Speaking of Billy Bad-Ass, I couldn’t help but chuckle at him calling Barry Alan Pincus a "pinhead" on "O’Reilly Factor" last night. You might know Mr. Pincus better as singer Barry Manilow, and B.O. (what appropriate initials, btw) proceeded to rip ol’ Bare for—horror of horrors—his refusal to appear on ABC’s "The View" this week because he didn’t want to be interviewed by his friend Rosie O’Donnell’s arch-enemy, the ever-conservative Elisabeth Hasselbeck. Evidently, this makes Barry a "pinhead" in O’Reilly’s book. As we used to say when I was a kid, it takes one to know one, Bill!
This is so typical of O’Reilly’s bullying style of "fair and balanced" editorializing, too. What is Barry Manilow anyway, but a schlocky has-been ‘70s singer who now relies on singing other people’s schlocky ‘70s songs to prolong his long-dormant career because he can’t come up with any new material—why should it matter to a douche like Bill O’Reilly what show Manilow appears on, much less who interviews him? Oh, by the way, Elisabeth Hasselbeck is a fucking airhead, and regardless of what her political affiliation might be, anyone who formulates their political views by watching this vapid waste of TV airtime ("The View") should start using their head for something besides a hat rack. Come to think of it, the same could also be said for "O’Reilly Factor"…
HAPPY B-DAY TO THE REAL BATMAN…
Actor Adam West turns 77 today. Fuck Val Kilmer, fuck Michael Keaton and fuck anyone else who portrays the Caped Crusader—Adam West is the only Batman who's officially recognized in my house...
YET ANOTHER GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING…
These are heady days for stand-up comics and TV news outlets the world over, and they owe a debt of gratitude to Orenthal James Simpson, don’t they? Evidently his search for the "real killers" led him to a hotel room in Vegas where someone had his memorabilia stashed away, and now he faces more time in the pokey for attempted armed robbery, kidnapping and just generally being a moron. And of course, all the O.J. apologists and sycophants out there are crying foul that The Juice was gas-lighted this time, but I'm having none of it. Is there any shadow of a doubt what an asshole this guy is? And yes, I think he’s guilty as hell of double murder, too…
K.C. CONCERT TICKET FUBAR, EPISODE II
Thousands of Kansas City parents are pretty cheesed-off about how quickly tickets were snapped-up over the weekend for the upcoming Hannah Montana concert. For the second time in a month, tickets for a Sprint Center show went on sale at 10AM and were history by 10:01AM, not unlike what happened with Elton John tickets, yet all the ticket broker outlets have plenty of overpriced tickets for sale once again, thus leading folks (including me) to suspect foul play/collusion on the part of TicketBastard. While I have to question why any prepubescent wants to see this schizophrenic chick singer who in mid-show morphs from this blonde wig-wearing Hannah Montana persona into Billy Ray Cyrus’ mullet-free brunette daughter Miley (what a pedigree, huh?), I can certainly understand people’s frustration here, and you can’t tell me there ain’t some sort of racket going on in the ticket biz these days. Makes me long for the days of camping out overnight for concert tickets behind the strip mall at Tiger's Records (remember them, K.C. readers?) back in the day...
NO RACE CARD-PLAYING, PLEASE
Embattled Philadelphia Eagles QB Donovan McNabb claimed on HBO this week that black quarterbacks in the NFL have more criticism heaped on them by the media and the fans than their white counterparts. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always liked McNabb myself, and find him to be a classy player—hell, I even have a McNabb replica jersey in my collection. I also staunchly defended him when Rush Limbaugh made his ignorant remarks on ESPN about him a few years ago, but I’m not buying this one. Even after factoring the over-zealous Philly fan base and sports media into the mix, I have two words for Donovan regarding QBs getting unfairly criticized: Rex Grossman. And here’s two more: Eli Manning. And two more: Joey Harrington.
BRETT SOMERS, 1924-2007
I want to acknowledge the passing of comedienne Brett Somers, who died of colon cancer on Saturday at age 83. Seems rather ironic that she passed away within a few months of her de facto partner-in-crime on "Match Game", Charles Nelson Reilly. I grew up on game shows back in the ‘70s, and "Match Game" was a regular staple of mine (when I wasn’t in school, that is), and it’s still fun to watch the reruns on GSN. I never knew it at the time, but the banter between Somers and Reilly would often intensify as the week wore on, and by the Friday broadcasts they were usually in full-goose-bozo razzing mode with each other. The reason for this phenomenon is fairly simple—they taped all the week’s episodes on the same day, one after the other, and apparently alcohol was readily available between shows, so nature took its course, and voila! "Match Game" regular Richard Dawson was known to imbibe quite a bit on the show, as well. R.I.P. Brett, you were one funny dame...
I used to wonder why Game Show Network chose to emphasize "Match Game" so much in favor of other classic game shows, but sadly the answer is that’s really all they have to choose from. In one of the all-time biggest crimes against humanity, network TV executives back in the late ‘70s decreed there wouldn’t be any future use for the videotapes of old game shows, thus many of them were either destroyed or re-used for other programming. What a crying shame! ABC and NBC were especially guilty of this practice, therefore virtually all of their game show output from the ‘60s and ‘70s is gone, apart from a handful of episodes of the original "Hollywood Squares" that are still in captivity. At least CBS had the forethought to hang on to some of their game show videos, like "Match Game", "The Joker’s Wild" and the ‘60s version of "Password". A few shows from other networks survived, like "Let's Make A Deal", "$10,000 Pyramid" and "Card Sharks" but those are the rare exceptions. Tragically, this generation has been deprived of seeing so many wonderful game shows from back in the day, like two early Alex Trebek classics like "The Wizard Of Odds" and "High Rollers", along with other classics like "Jackpot", "Split Second" and "Concentration", and especially shows that involved celebrity guests like "Baffle", "Celebrity Sweepstakes" and the '70s version of "Password" on ABC.
There's also a short-lived game show that I would give my left nut to see just one episode of again, "The Magnificent Marble Machine". It only ran for one season on NBC in 1974-75, which is roughly the same time Elton John's version of The Who's "Pinball Wizard" was all over the radio. "TMMM" was this huge pinball machine that you could actually stand on, and the contestants had to maneuver the silver ball, which was about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, around with these mammoth "flippers". It was at least a creative show, if not a long-lived one.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night!
THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING...
I know at least two of my regular readers are Notre Dame fans. I also know it’s not nice to make fun of their sad-sack football team during this time of crisis, and I’d like to think I’m better than that...BUT I’M NOT!!! I fucking cherished watching those 0-2 Michigan Wolverines demolish the Failing Irish 38-0 today! It was damn near as fun as a wet dream involving Pat Benatar or Belinda Carlisle! Automatic Good Day number three and counting, this season…
BUSTED!
Last week, the New England Patriots did the equivalent of farting in a spacesuit (i.e., creating a big stink that won’t go away anytime soon), and head coach Bill Belichick got fined half a million bucks after his team was caught videotaping the New York Jets coaches on the sideline at last week’s game to try and steal their defensive signals. I’m surprised that none of the talking heads on ESPN have posed the following question—why does an elite team like the Patriots need to cheat anyway? It would make more sense if bottom-feeders like the Browns, Raiders or Lions were busted for doing this, but the Patriots? While it's true that Sir Belichick has all the people skills of Mike Tyson with a Migraine, I’ve always respected his body of work—until now, that is…
SUE ME/ SUE YOU BLUES, PART I
That “little faggot with the earring and the make-up” (Prince) says he’s suing YouTube and other major Web sites for unauthorized use of his music in a bid to "reclaim his art on the Internet". All I gotta say is: Get over it already, you pretentious pussy!
SUE ME/SUE YOU BLUES, PART II
Motley Crue is suing drummer/tattoo addict Tommy Lee’s manager for persuading him to pursue being a “reality” TV star instead of focusing on the band, and Lee has threatened to quit the group. What the hell difference does it make, anyway? These guys are has-beens and haven’t put out a decent record in 18 years, and by most accounts, their most recent tour in ‘05 was a flop. Much ado about nothing…
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #52
“Down On Me”—JANIS JOPLIN/BIG BROTHER & THE HOLDING CO. (1967) “I said it looks like everybody in this whole round world, they’re down on me.” Has anyone else besides me thought Janis was singing, “There’s lipstick on my body” instead of "It looks like everybody" there?
STEALING MY ACTIf you want more of the above, go to kissthisguy.com. No, it’s not a gay porn site, but rather a collection of misheard lyrics (as in “’Scuse me, while I kiss this guy”) submitted by folks like me who demand better enunciation from our favorite singers. The ones I post on here are all my originals, although some are common to lots of folks.
ANOTHER SITE OF INTEREST
Someone also asked me where I got the info on the passing of Outlaws guitarist Hughie Thomasson, and I referred him to the poorly-named, yet highly-informative Dead Rock Stars Club website. This Doc Rock character is about as thorough (borderline anal, actually) as anyone I’ve ever seen, as he posts info on the deaths of virtually anyone even remotely connected to Rock ’N’ Roll, as well as Country and Jazz musicians. Hell, he even considers people like Milton Berle, Anna Nicole Smith, Tammy Faye Bakker and even that crazy Rocker himself, Luciano Pavarotti to be Rock Stars! I haven’t a clue why, but if a Rock star dies, you can rest assured he or she will be listed on this comprehensive site.
DERF STRIKES AGAIN!
(Click pic to enlarge)
I’ve had encounters at the grocery store similar to these myself a few times…
FANTASY VS. “REALITY”
There was an interesting piece in this week’s Entertainment Weekly about the upcoming 30th anniversary “Love Boat” TV special in which Gavin MacLeod related a story about a fan who came up to him and said how much she misses shows like this because today’s TV “reality” show fare doesn’t give the viewer anything to “dream about” anymore. Granted, a schlocky show like “Love Boat” isn’t the best analogy to use here, but I think this gal nailed it right on the head—sadly, there’s nothing inspiring about today’s TV offerings at all.
All you get anymore are these “reality” shows where basically the producers round up a bunch of nobodies and/or marginal has-been down-and-out celebrities (i.e., people who’ll work cheap—think Leif Garrett or Corey Feldman), create some set of parameters or contest and bring along a couple video cameras to capture whatever happens. This was also the basic premise behind The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour film, and unfortunately for the Fab Four, nothing happened, and so it goes for “reality” TV shows, and they are so bloody boring to me! Also, the viewer is often fed these forced and contrived mini-dramas within these crappy shows, like with these bickering skanks vying to doink Bret Michaels of Poison, or those conniving bastards on “Survivor”, and for no particular reason, we make celebrities out of weasels like that “evil” Amarosa person on “The Apprentice”, et al. Sorry folks, but to me, the only “reality” show that’s actually real is “Cops”.
Call me sentimental all you want, but I’d much rather have something to dream about, like driving the Batmobile, hanging (literally?) with Grandpa Munster in the dungeon or even saying cool shit like The Fonz used to ("I would let him go—unless you wanna make medical history…”). Even hanging out with Fred Sanford and Grady and Bubba while watching roller derby on TV is a step in the right direction, and I’d certainly much rather aspire to living in a deee-luxe apartment in the sky like The Jeffersons, or even better, Frasier Crane’s pad in Seattle. And yes, I had dreams when I was 13 about cruising on the “Love Boat” with the likes of Loni Anderson, Bernadette Peters or Marilu Henner, and in more recent years, visions of threesomes with Monica and Rachel from “Friends” and/or Daphne and Roz from “Frasier” have danced through my dirty little mind a time or two. And let me tell you, my friends, they’re a tad more exciting than worrying and fretting about who’s going to date Scott Baio next…
I know at least two of my regular readers are Notre Dame fans. I also know it’s not nice to make fun of their sad-sack football team during this time of crisis, and I’d like to think I’m better than that...BUT I’M NOT!!! I fucking cherished watching those 0-2 Michigan Wolverines demolish the Failing Irish 38-0 today! It was damn near as fun as a wet dream involving Pat Benatar or Belinda Carlisle! Automatic Good Day number three and counting, this season…
BUSTED!
Last week, the New England Patriots did the equivalent of farting in a spacesuit (i.e., creating a big stink that won’t go away anytime soon), and head coach Bill Belichick got fined half a million bucks after his team was caught videotaping the New York Jets coaches on the sideline at last week’s game to try and steal their defensive signals. I’m surprised that none of the talking heads on ESPN have posed the following question—why does an elite team like the Patriots need to cheat anyway? It would make more sense if bottom-feeders like the Browns, Raiders or Lions were busted for doing this, but the Patriots? While it's true that Sir Belichick has all the people skills of Mike Tyson with a Migraine, I’ve always respected his body of work—until now, that is…
SUE ME/ SUE YOU BLUES, PART I
That “little faggot with the earring and the make-up” (Prince) says he’s suing YouTube and other major Web sites for unauthorized use of his music in a bid to "reclaim his art on the Internet". All I gotta say is: Get over it already, you pretentious pussy!
SUE ME/SUE YOU BLUES, PART II
Motley Crue is suing drummer/tattoo addict Tommy Lee’s manager for persuading him to pursue being a “reality” TV star instead of focusing on the band, and Lee has threatened to quit the group. What the hell difference does it make, anyway? These guys are has-beens and haven’t put out a decent record in 18 years, and by most accounts, their most recent tour in ‘05 was a flop. Much ado about nothing…
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #52
“Down On Me”—JANIS JOPLIN/BIG BROTHER & THE HOLDING CO. (1967) “I said it looks like everybody in this whole round world, they’re down on me.” Has anyone else besides me thought Janis was singing, “There’s lipstick on my body” instead of "It looks like everybody" there?
STEALING MY ACTIf you want more of the above, go to kissthisguy.com. No, it’s not a gay porn site, but rather a collection of misheard lyrics (as in “’Scuse me, while I kiss this guy”) submitted by folks like me who demand better enunciation from our favorite singers. The ones I post on here are all my originals, although some are common to lots of folks.
ANOTHER SITE OF INTEREST
Someone also asked me where I got the info on the passing of Outlaws guitarist Hughie Thomasson, and I referred him to the poorly-named, yet highly-informative Dead Rock Stars Club website. This Doc Rock character is about as thorough (borderline anal, actually) as anyone I’ve ever seen, as he posts info on the deaths of virtually anyone even remotely connected to Rock ’N’ Roll, as well as Country and Jazz musicians. Hell, he even considers people like Milton Berle, Anna Nicole Smith, Tammy Faye Bakker and even that crazy Rocker himself, Luciano Pavarotti to be Rock Stars! I haven’t a clue why, but if a Rock star dies, you can rest assured he or she will be listed on this comprehensive site.
DERF STRIKES AGAIN!
(Click pic to enlarge)
I’ve had encounters at the grocery store similar to these myself a few times…FANTASY VS. “REALITY”
There was an interesting piece in this week’s Entertainment Weekly about the upcoming 30th anniversary “Love Boat” TV special in which Gavin MacLeod related a story about a fan who came up to him and said how much she misses shows like this because today’s TV “reality” show fare doesn’t give the viewer anything to “dream about” anymore. Granted, a schlocky show like “Love Boat” isn’t the best analogy to use here, but I think this gal nailed it right on the head—sadly, there’s nothing inspiring about today’s TV offerings at all.
All you get anymore are these “reality” shows where basically the producers round up a bunch of nobodies and/or marginal has-been down-and-out celebrities (i.e., people who’ll work cheap—think Leif Garrett or Corey Feldman), create some set of parameters or contest and bring along a couple video cameras to capture whatever happens. This was also the basic premise behind The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour film, and unfortunately for the Fab Four, nothing happened, and so it goes for “reality” TV shows, and they are so bloody boring to me! Also, the viewer is often fed these forced and contrived mini-dramas within these crappy shows, like with these bickering skanks vying to doink Bret Michaels of Poison, or those conniving bastards on “Survivor”, and for no particular reason, we make celebrities out of weasels like that “evil” Amarosa person on “The Apprentice”, et al. Sorry folks, but to me, the only “reality” show that’s actually real is “Cops”.
Call me sentimental all you want, but I’d much rather have something to dream about, like driving the Batmobile, hanging (literally?) with Grandpa Munster in the dungeon or even saying cool shit like The Fonz used to ("I would let him go—unless you wanna make medical history…”). Even hanging out with Fred Sanford and Grady and Bubba while watching roller derby on TV is a step in the right direction, and I’d certainly much rather aspire to living in a deee-luxe apartment in the sky like The Jeffersons, or even better, Frasier Crane’s pad in Seattle. And yes, I had dreams when I was 13 about cruising on the “Love Boat” with the likes of Loni Anderson, Bernadette Peters or Marilu Henner, and in more recent years, visions of threesomes with Monica and Rachel from “Friends” and/or Daphne and Roz from “Frasier” have danced through my dirty little mind a time or two. And let me tell you, my friends, they’re a tad more exciting than worrying and fretting about who’s going to date Scott Baio next…
Back on the throne again!
Well folks, my long national nightmare is finally over! I now have indoor plumbing once again, as I finished repairs on my sewer drain last night. I'm relieved to be able to relieve myself in my own toilet again for one rather obvious reason, but also because this little operation was beginning to turn into a sideshow of sorts, with too many nosy (if not well-intentioned) neighbors sticking their noses in it. Total cost of the project was about 12 cumulative hours of my time and $47 in parts and supplies, or $65 if you count the new shovel I bought.
Contrast that with the 2,500 semolians that Benjamin Franklin Plumbing tried to con me into paying to replace my alleged "collapsed" sewer drain. Thus, dear friends, whenever any plumbing or heating and cooling outfit, et al, tries to tell you that you need some four-figure major repair done, I urge you to seek a second and third opinion before you let them take advantage of you. If I wasn't so bull-headed about fixing this damn thing myself, I might've gotten royally screwed. Or in this case, royally reamed...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
