Rants! Get yer rants here!

I’m in an especially ranty mood today, so it’s time to take the garbage out…

OCHO STINKO IS ALL A-TWITTER
And what a twit he is, too! Seems that Cincinnati Bengals wideout Chad Johnson/Ochocinco claims that he plans to do some Twitter-ing during the games he’s playing in this upcoming season.  Yeah, Chad, way to focus on the task at hand and concentrate on winning a football game, huh?  Is it any wonder the Bungholes are such a dysfunctional lot with jokers like this fool who constantly undermines the concept of team?  Shannon Sharpe had a big mouth, too, back in the day, but at least he backed it up with solid play, while Chad is just a total Chad, and only shows flashes of brilliance here and there.  Cincy already let their best receiver, T.J. Houshmandzadeh, get away to Seattle in the off-season, and it’s obvious that Ocho Stinko only cares about showboating.  Why does Cincinnati put up with this clown?  Wide receivers are a dime a dozen anyway—kick this bozo to the curb already, and get someone who cares about winning!

SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST
In a similar vein, why do the L.A. Dodgers put up with Manny Ramirez?  They were doing just fine without him while he served his suspension, and since his return, he’s been more or less on cruise control, getting his five innings and three at-bats in every night before wanting out of the game.  Last night vs. the Mets, he seemed to have gotten ejected from the game on purpose in the 5th inning and didn’t even contest the ejection.  This arrogant jagoff is Exhibit A on what’s wrong with pro sports today.  When properly motivated, Ramirez can be one of the best players in the game, but it’s a rarity that he even gives a shit anymore.  Just retire, baby!

HALF-WITT’S HOLIDAY?
I remember an old "SCTV" skit where Andrea Martin poked fun at "Three’s Company" actress Joyce DeWitt’s early ‘80s L’eggs pantyhose TV commercials, with AM posing as "Joyce De-Half-Witt", modeling L’eggs Knee-Hi’s instead.  Well, the real Joyce certainly lived up to that name on the 4th, getting busted for DWI after running through a barricade—in El Segundo, of all places!  Hell, even I avoided El Segundo at all costs when I was in La-La Land last summer.  Why is it drunk celebrities can’t seem to get a ride when they get totally ripped? Surely, these people can afford a cab ride, even has-been actresses like DeWitt, whom I always found to be far more attractive than her co-star Suzanne Somers back in the day.  Until I saw this photo, that is.  Even in recent years it appeared that JD still took care of herself and wasn’t hard on the eyes, but this latest embarrassing drunken celebrity mug shot shoots that theory all to hell.  Sad, sad, sad…

WHEN THE LITTLE HEAD DOES THE THINKING…
At the risk of sounding like Dr. Phil, I would love to pose this question to the late Steve McNair in regards to this 20-year-old chick he was involved with:  What the hell were you thinkin’?!?  Just judging by her photo, methinks he could’ve done a lot better than her—she ain’t exactly a hottie.  I’ve never seen McNair’s wife, but I can’t believe he cheated on her in favor of this skank, especially when you consider that Mrs. McNair is a nurse, and she helped him rehab a lot of his nagging injuries and kept him on the playing field and prolonged his career—so much for undying gratitude.  As for the skank, it sounds to me like she had her eyes on his fame and fortune and when he threatened to end their little fling, she whacked him, then herself—can you say "Golddigger"?

JUST GO AWAY, AL
Why is it every time a high-profile Black celebrity dies, they always trot out Al Sharpton and/or Jesse Jackson to deliver eulogies?  And yes, I know Jesse’s a family friend of the Jackson clan, but these boobs have no relevance anymore, even in the Black community, yet there was Sharpton yammering away at Michael Jackson’s memorial service yesterday.  And why in blue blazes does he feel the need to constantly yell during his speeches?  I realize the whole Southern Baptist preacher shtick involves being forceful and frenetic, but this is a somber occasion!  You can just as easily get your point across in lower tones.  Jive turkey…

THE KING IS DEAD—ALREADY
No, not referring to Michael Jackson, but rather LeBron James, who had video confiscated of Xavier U's Jordan Crawford having the personal effrontery to outplay LeBron and deliver a slam dunk over "King James" in a pick-up game Monday at the LeBron James Skills Academy in Akron.  Up until that point in the proceedings, it was perfectly okey-dokey for the two cameramen on hand to shoot the event until the Nike Getstapo commandeered the tapes so their poster boy won't be scarred for life by repeated playings of the dunk on YouTube and ESPN, et al.  I used to like LeBron up until now, but between this and the non-handshake thing during the playoff series with Orlando last month, he's revealed his true colors as Kobe, Jr.—just another arrogant and petty douche athlete.  And then there were Dan Leb-Retard and J.A. Adande on ESPN defending James and Nike, acting as the true corporate shills they are, since ESPN and Nike are basically joined at the hip.  You know what I say?  Screw Nike and their overpriced ugly-ass shoes!  Take your stupid swoosh and shove it...

There!  I feel much better now...

It's a blog, Mrs. Walker, it's a blog...

This definitely ain't a good time to be a celebrity, considering the current spate of deaths amongst famous people.  Here are three more the Grim Creeper claimed this week.

KARL MALDEN, 1912-2009
“Streets Of San Francisco” is one of my all-time favorite TV Cop shows ("Hawaii Five-0" is right up there with it), and Karl Malden was a big reason why.  He was terrific as the tough-but-fair Det. Mike Stone, opposite Michael Douglas as upstart Det. Steve Keller, or “Buddy Boy”, as Stone always referred to him.  It’s amazing to think Malden was well into his 60s when they did that show, which required a fair amount of athleticism, and he obviously took great care of himself, considering he damn near lived to be 100.  Until I was reminded of them last week in his obituary, I’d all but forgotten KM’s American Express travelers checks “What will you do?” TV ads, which were lampooned by the likes of Johnny Carson and others.  Also easy to forget is Karl Malden’s film career prior to SOSF, during which he won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for A Streetcar Named Desire and was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for On The Waterfront, co-starring with Marlon Brando.  A fine actor and a good guy—he was even married to the same woman for 70 years.  Rest in peace, Karl—ya done good.

DRAKE LEVIN, 1943-2009
“Drake who?” you say?  He may well be the greatest Rock ‘N’ Roll guitarist that nobody knows, and “The Kid” provided all those careening riffs and killer solos for Paul Revere & The Raiders on pretty much everything they did up to and including “Hungry” in 1966.  A very underrated guitarist in a very underrated band, Levin left PR&TR for a National Guard hitch to avoid the draft in ’66 and later formed The Brotherhood with fellow former Raiders Phil Volk and Mike Smith, releasing two albums for RCA.  Drake had been battling cancer for several years and finally succumbed to it on Saturday.  Seems semi-fitting, I guess, that a guy from such a patriotic band like the Raiders would pass away on the 4th of July.  Rest in peace, Drake—ya done good, too.

STEVE McNAIR, 1973-2009
Unquestionably the most shocking passing this weekend was former Tennessee Titans QB Steve McNair, shot to death along with a female acquaintance who wasn’t his wife who may well have killed him and then turned the gun on herself.  Even sadder, this one has turned in a soap opera rife with speculation about what actually went down.  McNair’s wife claims to have no previous knowledge that he was seeing this woman, but evidently half of Nashville was aware of it.  An ignominious end for a guy who I admired for his toughness, often playing hurt and in tremendous pain, which in turn no doubt inspired his teammates to play harder with him.  Sad, very sad…

PALIN’S BAILIN’
Let’s hear it for Ms. Winky-Dink, Sarah Palin, for resigning as Gov. of Alaska with a year and a half to go in her term.  She predictably spouted off a bunch of bugle oil about “it’s all good” and how she wants to help the Republican party “from the outside”, yadda x 3.  Sounds more to me like A) she can’t hack doing the job, and B) she wants to write books and do talk shows and make money, etc.  And don’t tell me this is so she can gear up for the 2012 Presidential campaign—that’s three freakin’ years from now!  She’s wasting her time anyway if she does run—Sarah Palin is far too flighty to make a decent commander-in-chief, especially if she can’t even finish her current term.  As trite as this may sound, a winner never quits, and a quitter never wins…

Again, for all you feminists out there:  I’m all for having a female President of the U.S. someday, but geez, Louise, surely we can find someone better than Palin or Hillary Clinton.

EATING IS NOT A SPORT!
One of these days—and it won’t be long—one of these hot dog-eating fools is going to wind up dying on live TV during these silly competitive eating contests.  68 freakin’ hot dogs in one sitting?  I don’t think I’ve consumed that many in the last five years!  Nuckin’ futs…

LATHER, RINSE, RE: PETE
I just finished author Mark Wilkerson’s 600-page 2008 biography Who Are You on The Who’s Pete Townshend last week, and I’m a bit spent.  The author was almost too thorough, especially with all the direct quotations he included from Townshend, which began to wear me out as a reader after a while.  No doubt, Pete’s been very influential in my life via his songwriting, but I’m not sure why it didn’t dawn on me long before now what a really pompous ass he can be sometimes, not to mention a very contradictory and confounding individual at times.  Why Roger Daltrey has put up with his crap for so long—apart from PT being his meal ticket all these years—is beyond me.  The book mentioned the numerous times Townshend tried to get the infamous Lifehouse album off the ground (even in the last ten years or so), only to abandon the project because no one could understand the concept.  I don’t think PT himself ever fully understood it himself, and I’m like “Dude, give it up, already!”  I also found all the stuff about his worship of spiritual leader Meher Baba very hypocritical, considering how much Pete abused drugs and alcohol in the ‘70s and early ‘80s (and damn near died of an overdose in ’81)—something which Baba (the original “Don’t worry, be happy” guy) did not condone at all.

I used to think it would be really cool to meet Pete Townshend and engage in conversation with him about life and such, but now I’m not so sure.  It seems Pete has this weird knack for being a very gracious and kind gentleman one minute, and a total arsehole the next—very Jekyll and Hyde-ish, you might say—toward his fans, the musicians he works with, record executives, the media, etc.  None of this diminishes the incredibly intense music Pete’s given us throughout his career, but I view him in a different light now—not quite the idol I once thought of him as.

“HULLABALOO” AND TYLER TOO?
I took another trip on the Way-Back Machine over the weekend, and thoroughly enjoyed viewing NBC’s answer to “American Bandstand” in the mid-‘60s, “Hullabaloo”.  I highly recommend renting or buying these DVDs, which are a nice time capsule of that era, music-wise, featuring many of the big names of the day, like Herman’s Hermits, The Kinks, The Animals, Petula Clark, Sonny & Cher, Paul Revere & The Raiders, Dusty Springfield, The Supremes and even the dreaded Freddie & The Dreamers.  Unlike “Bandstand”, “Hullabaloo” had a different host each time, so one week you’d get Sammy Davis, Jr., another you’d get Trini Lopez and another you’d get Michael Landon (singing, no less!).  All the Go-Go dancers hopping around on-stage while the groups performed were a total hoot, too.  Good stuff, Maynard…

WELL, DO YOU REMEMBER RICK ASTLEY?  HE HAD A BIG FAT IT—IT WAS GHASTLY…On those “Hullabaloo” shows, they had a weekly segment from England featuring late Beatles manager Brian Epstein, who would discuss up-and-coming artists from across the big pond.  While watching Epstein, I finally made the connection that one Rick Astley had to be his illegitimate son!  Do they not look like father and son?!?  Probably not true, though, since Epstein was a renowned homosexual.  Then again, so is Astley, according to Brian Griffin on "Family Guy".








THE DOCTOR WAS IN!
A while back when I did my Top 20 Live Album countdown post, I made mention of the Rolling Stones’ Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out as being considered one of the top live LPs ever, but the good Dr. Sardonicus pointed out that it wasn’t all that spectacular.  Turns out the Doc. was right, as I now have it in my collection (having pirated it from the library), and I was fairly underwhelmed by what I heard.  It wasn’t bad, mind you, but hardly scintillating.  As great as the Stones are live in concert, it’s an odd contradiction that their live albums are so average (and sometimes less than average).  Good call, Doc!

HMMM…
If He really does indeed exist, I kinda had Him pegged to be more of a Stryper fan myself…

The Ox Man Cometh!

The late John Entwistle is one of my idols (witness my ersatz tribute pic), and I rave about his bass playing often on this blog—after all, “Thunderfingers” was the greatest Rock ‘N’ Roll bass player of all-time on this here planet, plus numerous others.  But I ain’t here to talk about his bass playing, (which speaks—loudly—for itself), but rather his solo career and compositions with The Who, which are often sadly overlooked.  Even though he was a fine composer, John Entwistle is rarely recognized for his songwriting abilities, mostly because he was in a band that already had a prolific songwriter, thus was constantly overshadowed by one Peter Dennis Blandford Townshend.  I would even go as far to submit that “The Ox” had a much more consistent solo career than Townshend (with his overblown concept albums) or Roger Daltrey (who was very hit-and-miss) did.  His witty and often hard-rocking songs usually served to lighten the mood on Who albums when PT got a little too intense and serious, and JE pretty much spared the final two Who studio albums he played on (Face Dances and It’s Hard) from being totally wretched, as Pete was hoarding his best tunes for his own solo records during that time.

“Big Johnnie Twinkle” was the first member of The Who to release his own solo album, 1971’s Smash Your Head Against The Wall, and although its cover was ghoulish indeed, the record itself was critically well-received and featured John’s typical dark humor and his oft-underrated horn playing.  Ironically, John’s solo albums hardly featured his bass playing, which was more subdued than on most Who releases.  JE worked in his solo albums between Who records throughout the early ‘70s, following Smash Your Head with 1972’s Whistle Rymes (with guest appearances by one young Peter Frampton and the late Jimmy McCullough from Paul McCartney’s Wings on guitar), 1973’s Rigor Mortis Sets In and 1975’s Mad Dog.  John took to the road with his band, John Entwistle’s Ox, in ‘75, opening for Humble Pie and making an appearance on radio’s “King Biscuit Flower Hour”, which is available on CD.  Expectations were high for JE’s next solo album, 1981’s Too Late The Hero, recorded with the Eagles’ Joe Walsh on guitar and drummer Joe Vitale (no relation to Dick, thankfully!) but it turned out to be a disappointment both in terms of sales and quality, although it was still light years better than The Who’s 1981 release, Face Dances.

Subsequent solo projects were few and far between for John, including 1996’s The Rock and the Vanpires soundtrack in ‘98, which he followed with a solo tour that rendered the fine 1999 Left For Live recording and rendered him damn near broke.  There was even talk of him putting together a heavy metal band in the mid-‘80s, but it never materialized.  Sadly, John’s major vices (sex, drugs and booze) are what ultimately did him in—he spent money he didn’t have on things he didn’t need (shades of yours truly, sometimes), thus was always broke until The Who toured again.  He also indulged way too much in alcohol and drugs, leaving him with a heart condition that he succumbed to at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas on June 27, 2002—the eve of The Who’s latest tour—with cocaine in his system.  A disappointing (and frankly, rather pathetic) end for one of the finest musicians in Rock history.  But, as Daltrey said upon John’s death, for better or worse, John lived the prototypical Rock Star life right up to the bitter end.  Long live The Ox!

My All-Time John Entwistle Top 25
HONORABLE MENTIONS:
My Generation (1965)  Okay, Big John didn’t write it, but he did give the world the first Rock ‘N’ Roll bass solo of all-time, and quite possibly, the greatest.
5:15 (Live—2000)  Again, the man didn’t write the song, but The Ox’s bass solo from the December, 2000 Who performance at Royal Albert Hall was a three-and-a-half minute rollercoaster ride that will leave you totally dumbstruck (and possibly neutered) afterward!A Quick One (While He’s Away) (1966)  The Ox was cast in the role of dirty ol’ Ivor the sooty engine driver in the famed mini-opera here, and he got to show off his falsetto voice during the climactic “You Are Forgiven” section of the song, which I originally thought was Roger Daltrey’s doing.
“Summertime Blues” (1970)  Gots ta give JE credit for his basso-profundo vocals on this Eddie Cochran/Who classic.  In 1998, John changed one of the lyrics to “I’d like to help ya son, but I’m too busy gettin’ a blow job!”

25) I’m Coming Back (1981)  Track from Too Late The Hero that prominently featured Joe “How Ya DOIN’?” Walsh on guitar.  Not a terribly funny song—by Entwistle standards, anyway—but it rocks all the same.
24) Drowning (1975)  Not be confused with The Who’s “Drowned” from Quadrophenia, John waxed nostalgic on this cut from Mad Dog and did some major crooning!  He sang in such a high register that he later joked, “I must have been wearing tight trousers when I sang this!”  Backing vocals were provided by three ladies who sounded an awful lot like Benny Hill’s Ladybirds.
23) Too Late The Hero (1981)  The title track from John’s ‘81 sojourn took a while to grow on me, but it’s not a bad song at all, where one pines for life to be just like the movies.  Any Renee Zellweger, Lea Thompson or Kate Winslet flick would do me just fine…
22) What Are We Doing Here? (1971)  All about life on the road:  “And it’s only 25 days, 6 hours and 10 minutes, and this’ll all be 5,000 miles from here.”  I believe this was conceived during The Who's 1968 North American tour in some misbegotten place like Edmonton, Alberta, freakin' Canada.
21) Thinkin’ It Over (1972)  Even songs about suicide attempts can be humorous.  Ironically, Elton John’s hilarious “I Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself” came out long about the same time as this one did.
20) It’s Your Turn (1982)  Songs about aging Rock stars were usually P. Townshend’s domain, but The Ox took a shot at it on It’s Hard, invoking all them young whipper-snappers at the time to get in the ring:  “It’s your turn to step up and take it—if you got the guts to hang on, you can make it…”  This one also applies to the current sad state of Rock ‘N’ Roll:  “You’re running out of ideas and new hats to try on…”  Mr. Daltrey handled the vocals on this one.
19) Cousin Kevin (1969)  Whereas Pete Townshend wrote the bulk of the songs for Tommy, he left it up to J. Entwistle to do the dirty work and write about the mean and uncouth characters in the story, and Cuz Kevin was indeed “the nastiest playfriend you ever could meet.”  The ultra-high vocals proved too difficult to pull off in concert, though, so “Kevin” was often omitted from the Tommy section during 1969-70 at Who shows.  Actor Paul Nicholas did a fine Cousin Kevin in the 1974 Tommy movie, and singer Billy Idol was even more convincing in the role during the 1989 all-star benefit Tommy concert.
18) Heaven And Hell (1971)  Also recorded by The Who, and often a concert opener for them circa. 1970-71, JE's solo version is a little slower and a bit more atmospheric, thanks to John’s French horn.  “Why can’t we have eternal life and never die?”  Touché…
17) Whiskey Man (1966)  Not to be confused with the Molly Hatchet song of the same name, this was John’s first recorded composition, all about an imaginary drinking partner.  Love the line “Insanity is fun--if that’s the way it’s done…”  It most certainly is, dear friends!
16) Talk Dirty (1981)  One of the rare times on Entwistle’s solo albums that he let his mighty bass do the talking.  Song has its moments, like “Van Dyke?—she’s queer!”
15) 905 (1978)  A peek into the future from Who Are You, all about test tube babies and cryogenics and so forth.  As John quipped on the Left For Live CD, “The great thing about the future is you never have to put your parents in an old folks home…Just put ‘em straight in the ‘fridge and you can visit them anytime you like!”
14) Fiddle About (1969)  Only Entwistle could get away with writing a song about a pedophile.  Good thing P. Townshend didn’t write it, when you consider the kiddie-porn charges he faced in 2003.  The late Keith Moon was the penultimate Uncle Ernie, too.
13) Who Cares (1972)  Love the attitude here:  “Some people say they need their breakfast every morning—I’m satisfied with yawning, who cares?”  Pretty much sums me up in the morning…
12) My Size (1971)  The unofficial title track to Smash Your Head Against The Wall, and a song all about ill feelings toward a former loved-one.  Nifty opening riff here too.  John steals the closing riff from his own “Boris T. Spider” too.
11) I Feel Better (1972)  Sequel to “My Size”, with even more intense hard feelings like “When I’m feeling blue, I stick a pin in a picture of you and I feel better…when I’m feeling sad, I remember that you were the worst lay I ever had, and I feel better…”  Now, that’s a real kick in the crotch!
10) One At A Time (1982)  As you might have noted by the last two entries, marital discord was a recurring theme in John’s songs, and this was one of the better cuts from It’s Hard, featuring John’s prowess in the brass section in the intro.  “She’s been abusing her body again,” he intones.  Sadly, JE did a bit of that to himself, as well.
9) Made In Japan (1973)  One of John’s funniest ever, all about his shock and horror that everything he encounters comes from the Land of the Rising Sun—his suit, his car, even his bride!  “There ain’t nothin’ made here in this country anymore—it’s either made in Japan, Hong Kong or Singapore…”
8) Success Story (1975)  Another aging Rock star song, and easily the hardest-rocking cut from The Who By Numbers.  “Take 276—you know this used to be fun…”  Entwistle and Daltrey alternate on vocals here.
7) Boris The Spider (1966)  Always a fan favorite and one of mine, too—poor Boris always winds up “imbedded in the ground” in the end.  According to John, Boris was once married to Doris The Spider.
6) Pick Me Up (Big Chicken) (1971)  All about a night out with the boys.  This one pre-dates this current “competitive eating” crap by about 35 years:  “Gather ‘round the bar, let’s have a race—wanna see how much beer I can pour into my face…”
5) You (1981)  Entwistle’s contributions to Face Dances were the only songs that truly rocked out and this is one of the more underrated Who cuts ever, regardless of its composer.  Sung by Roger Daltrey, it features a wicked bass line from Thunderfingers, which rendered Pete Townshend almost irrelevant throughout.
4) Had Enough (1978)  Not to be confused with “I’ve Had Enough” from Quadrophenia, this was John’s declaration of independence and a basic “fuck you” to the world.  Daltrey sounded great screaming the opening line, “IIIIIIIIIII”ve had enough of being nice/I’ve had enough of right and wrong…”  The song ends with the line “Here comes the end of the world,“ so I made sure to play it just before Midnight on the night of Y2K, just in case it came true.  The string arrangement during the middle eight was a nifty added touch here too.  I totally endorse the line, “If you find something better, can’t you save my place?”
3) The Quiet One (1981)  Anything but quiet, this could’ve been written about yours truly, as I often have to remind those who say I don’t talk much that “I ain’t quiet—everybody else is too loud!”  TQO was one of the highlights of The Who’s rather flaccid 1982 “Farewell” tour, as well.
2) Trick Of The Light (1978)  Roger Daltrey admitted that he didn’t much like to sing John’s songs, but JE was only limited to one vocal performance per Who album (if he was lucky), so RD handled this one, all about a poor schlub who needed a little reassurance in the carnal department, so he seeks “professional” help.  Leave it to yours truly to quote an Entwistle song in bed with my girlfriend after doing the dirty deed for the first time, “So, was I alright?  Did I take you to the height of ecstasy?”  At least she answered in the affirmative, and all was right with the world…
1) My Wife (1971)  Probably John’s most famous song, and certainly his most-performed one at Who shows.  Originally released on Who’s Next, John took another shot at it on Rigor Mortis Sets In, but my personal faves are the Kids Are Alright and Left For Live versions, which are much edgier.  Jokingly written about his first wife (and longtime sweetheart) Allison, the story actually came true later on.

So, was he indeed alright?  I'd say yes...

It was 20 years ago today...

No, not Sgt. Pepper, but it was 20 years ago today that my truncated radio career came to an unceremonious end.  At approximately 5:56 AM on June 30, 1989, I uttered my final words on the air at K-JO 105 in St. Joseph, MO, which were appropriately, “…and I am history.”  Hard to believe it’s been 20 years already, but I can honestly say I really don’t miss radio that much.  It was a mutual parting of the ways when I left K-JO; I knew I didn’t have a future there, and they were about to fire me anyway, so I took the two weeks’ severance pay they were offering and ran with it.  I interviewed at a couple other radio stations after that, and was hopeful at one point of reuniting with some of the old gang from my first radio station, KKJC-AM in Blue Springs (the “Mighty 1030”) at the newly re-launched 107.3 FM that had moved from Lexington to Independence.  Alas, I lost out on that gig to a black woman with precious little radio experience whom they were pretty much forced to hire to comply with the affirmative action thing.  Never mind that this was a Country music station and she didn’t know Johnny Cash from James Brown!  Granted, I wasn’t terribly familiar with Country music myself, but I think I coulda winged it.  Oh well, it would've just prolonged the inevitable...

Radio is a bidness that I really had no bidness being in in the first place, as I really wasn't cut out to be a DJ anyway, but I had to fall on my face, so to speak, to come to that realization.  I’m not quick on my feet, verbally, I had no ego to speak of, and was totally unprepared to move from job to job and town to town, given radio’s inherent instability. And this was 20 years ago—I can’t imagine being a freshman/sophomore DJ in today’s current unstable environment.  The radio career was fun while it lasted, but I wish I’d realized then what I know now—I should’ve pursued a career in creative writing and/or journalism.

Regrets, I’ve had a few…

IT WAS (ALMOST) 30 YEARS AGO TODAY…
…the last time I saw a fireworks tent in Raytown, but they’re back again, thanks to them being re-legalized in Raytown.  The ban first went into effect in 1980, but was so unenforceable that the city basically gave up and decided to allow non-airborne explosives to once again be sold and blown up with in the city limits, and nearby Independence recently did likewise.  Might as well—you’re not going to prevent people from shooting off fireworks this time of year anyway.  Just have to hope that no one’s house catches on fire…

THE POWER OF PRAYER?
The following letter appeared on the Op-Ed page of Sunday’s K.C. Star:

“I am a religious man, but not a fanatic.  However, whenever Billy Mays, the pitchman, does commercials, I say a little prayer that he will lose his obnoxious voice. I do not scream my prayer; I just say it in a normal voice.”—Michael Douglas, Smithville, MO

Ask and ye shall receive, evidentl.  They say timing is everything, and the above letter hit the newsstands right about the time of Billy Mays’ unexpected demise on Sunday.  No disrespect intended towards the dead, here, but I can’t say as I’ll miss the guy.  As I’ve stated before, hollering and screaming at me on TV is highly unlikely to motivate me to buy the product you’re endorsing.

HOW PROFOUND!
See if you can guess which celebrity uttered the following in 1986:  “Life is one big female safari, and Dr. Ruth is my guide.”  Keep reading, and I’ll divulge the answer below…

SIT ON IT, PONZI!
Was pleased to see this Bernie Madoff palooka get 150 years in prison for screwing all those people out of all that money, thus meaning he’ll be 221 when he gets out.  I think they ought to put his wife’s ass in prison too—she had to at least have some knowledge about the skullduggery he was into.  Oh well—buh-bye, Bernie!

CLASSIC OVERUSED MOVIE/TV CLICHÉ #21
I hate it when the cast of a TV show suddenly gets pressed into duty in some crisis situation performing tasks they don’t normally do, like working in a restaurant kitchen because the staff quits or goes on strike or something.  “Frasier” and “Are You Being Served?” are two examples of shows that tried this lame gambit that is rarely funny, and always ends in disaster.  The “Frasier” one was the worst of all, where Niles and Frasier actually thought they could RUN an upscale eatery.  Yeah, right…

I MUST HAVE MISSED THE MEMO…
…so please tell me who these Jon & Kate people are, and why the fuck should I care that they’ve broken up?  Yet another example of nobodies that this country makes famous for no palpable reason…

HOW PROFOUND?—THE ANSWER
That would be none other than my former idol, Ted Nugent, who claimed to be a disciple of Dr. Ruth when he appeared on her show back in the day—what a suck-up!  I still can’t believe everyone bought into the pablum that little twit hack was dishing out back then.  I’d sooner seek sexual advice from Bobby "The Brain" Heenan.  As you’ve no doubt noticed, celebrity “Doctors” don’t rate highly with yours truly, as in Dr. Ruth, Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, Dr. Joyce Brothers, et al.  To me, they’re all just professional celebrities with very little substance.

I found that quote in the liner notes of Nugent’s 1986 Little Miss Dangerous CD, which I borrowed from the library recently.  Ted, being his usual humble self, touted the album as “one of the sexiest, slinkiest, motherfuckingest grooves I’ve ever nuzzled out of my…guitar,” adding that “This is the audio high point of my career.”  Uh-huh.  The write-up also referred to the song “Little Miss Dangerous” as “Ted’s calling card on MTV and a Rock radio smash…”  Riiiight.  I do remember the “LMD” video getting a few spins on “Headbanger’s Ball” back in the day, but I sure don’t recall it getting any radio airplay at all, let alone the song being a “Rock radio smash”.  Instead, I remember that album as just another in the string of mediocre ‘80s platters that Terrible Ted put out, which subsequently led him to put his ego away for a while and join Damn Yankees in ’89.

KING OF DE NILE?
Get a load of what the K.C. Star’s Jason Whitlock—a sports columnist, mind you—had to say about Michael Jackson:

“…I shed tears when the text messages from friends started rolling in about Jackson’s death…I just want to enjoy Michael Jackson’s music.  I don’t want to know or debate whether he bleached his skin white.  And you’ll never convince me Michael molested children.  Never…You’ll never convince me because I’ll never take the time to research the evidence.  I won’t even listen to people discuss it…I’m sorry, I know I sound childish, but it’s impossible for me to believe that a human being who inspired so much peace, love and harmony could be capable of the heinous act of molesting a child.”

First off, I find it hard to picture a self-promoting jackass like Jason Whitlock shedding tears.  Second off, talk about putting your head in the sand and keeping it there. Regardless of whether you think MJ was guilty of improprieties, if you (Jason) want me to take you seriously as a columnist/journalist, you have be more open-minded than this!  Hell, I find it hard to believe that a brilliant music producer like Phil Spector is capable of murder, but it sure appears he was.  That’s life in the big city, unfortunately, and it‘s obvious JW is in denial in regards to Michael Jackson.  MJ had a brilliant musical career, no question, but there can be NO denying that something was clearly wrong with the man in his private life.  As for Whitlock, I agree totally with the person who posted on the Star’s website who said that Jason needs to cease writing about himself so much in his columns—he’s not nearly as “cool” as he thinks he is.  Besides, that’s what blogs like this are for…

By the way, what’s any of this got to do with sports, anyway?

Dammit, Jim--I'm a blogger, not a doctor!

MICHAEL JACKSON IS STILL DEAD!
At least that’s how the news media coverage of this thing is coming across to me—shades of another General Francisco Franco SNL bit.  The crawl on CNN this morning still kept flashing “Singer Michael Jackson, Dead At 50...”  No shit?

My random thoughts about the whole thing:

Hope no one was offended by what I wrote the other night about Michael Jackson already being dead to me for many years, but I’m being honest when I say that.  The singer that I grooved to and enjoyed ceased to exist in the early ‘90s, having been possessed and replaced by this strange humanoid who did creepy and/or ill-advised things.  This by no means diminishes what he did in his career—the guy freakin’ owned the Pop charts for about two years (1982-84) and no one could touch him as a performer.  To this day, I STILL can’t figure out how he did that moonwalk thing!  As for the music, I always loved the Jackson Five stuff from the early ‘70s—Top 40 hits don‘t get much better than “I‘ll Be There” and “Never Can Say Goodbye” with MJ‘s lead vocals and his brothers‘ beautiful harmonies—as well as some of the solo Michael stuff like “Ben” and “Rockin’ Robin”.  I remember thinking to myself the first time I ever heard “Rock With You”, “Man, that sounds pretty sweet—the boy has grown up!"  It even sounded stellar on AM.  And when Thriller came out, I remember how my friend Tom and I were excited about Eddie Van Halen playing on “Beat It”, but that song could’ve easily gone #1 without Ed's help.  Then Michael took over MTV, and the rest is history.  Bad had the unenviable task of following Thriller and it didn’t live up to its name—it was actually a good record but not a great one, and will always feel like a comedown, no matter what, just like how Caribou was a comedown for Elton John in the wake of Yellow Brick Road and likewise Tusk for Fleetwood Mac following Rumours.  The last really good thing I remember Michael Jackson doing was “Leave Me Alone” in ‘89 before everything turned weird with him…

As for the weirdness, who knows what happened to the man?  No question he had a fucked-up childhood from the get-go, and his old man is very much to blame, no matter how often (and loudly) he denies it.  Fame also has a way of turning one’s brain to mush, and considering the lofty heights MJ ascended to, it’s no surprise that the cheese slipped off his proverbial cracker.  His death has already been compared with Elvis Presley’s, and there are certainly some parallels, especially if it’s proven that MJ was over-medicated, as is being suspected.  I think both Michael and Elvis were incredibly lonely people who, once they achieved mega-superstardom, couldn’t really trust anyone to be a true friend or lover, even if that person really was on the level.  Jackson’s marriages were a sham, and I have my doubts whether he really fathered those three kids of his—I think the whole fatherhood thing was just for show, just like when Elton John married that gal in 1984.  I would even venture that Michael Jackson was every bit as gay as Elton is, and I’d have respected him more if he’d just come out instead of pretending to be straight when it was pretty obvious he wasn’t.  MJ’s financial woes are well-documented as well, with millions of dollars frittered away on his Neverland ranch, lavish art purchases, legal fees, etc.  I also can’t help but wonder how much of that money went toward silencing those who accused him of improprieties with little boys.  On that count, it’s pretty hard to feel sorry for him.

Then there’s the whole physical appearance issue, which turned this once good-looking young black guy into a fairly unattractive albino woman.  What on earth possessed MJ to continuously alter his appearance the way he did?  He should’ve quite while he was ahead after Bad came out, but he obviously became addicted to it.  I can understand wanting to make a change or two—if I had the money, I’d have my nose reduced in a New York minute—but what Jackson did borders on sheer lunacy.  What’s worse is all those physicians who were willing to do it to him, too.

Why are MJ fans running out and buying up MJ CDs all of a sudden?  If he’s your favorite singer, wouldn’t you already have all his stuff?  I never have understood this phenomenon when someone famous dies and there’s a run on their music.  And it’s not like Jackson had anything new out that people might not have bought yet, unlike when John Lennon was killed.

When this is all said and done, I predict it will come out that Michael basically did himself in (unintentionally, most likely) and that’s a damn shame.  Rest in peace, Michael—go have that childhood that so eluded you…

On to other business…

PRETTY FLY FOR A BLACK GUY…
I just have to comment on the minor dust-up from last week where President Obama whacked a fly during a TV interview.  Predictably, PETA got their collective panties in a bunch over this, accusing the Prez of being a murderer and all.  Shit like this is why I can’t take these PETA people seriously—we’re talking about a fucking fly here, not baby seals being maimed or Michael Vick being cruel to dogs!  This reminds of the time some wing-nut PETA woman on the West Coast protested the inhumane treatment of the AFLAC duck on the TV ads.  I’ll let you in on a little secret—it’s not a real duck!!

RADIO, SOMEONE STILL LOVES YOU…
While lunching in my car at work the other day, I played around on the radio dial a bit, and pulled in a station on the FM side from the Sedalia/Columbia/Jefferson City area called Power 97 that has a surprisingly good daytime signal.  Nothing new under the sun, format-wise—it’s the same old stuff I hear on the K.C. Rock stations—but it’s kinda fun hearing different voices between the songs for a change, as well as the local commercials for farm implements and what-not.  Almost felt like being on a road trip.  One pet-peeve I have with the chick DJ I heard, though:  she kept saying stuff like “That’s ‘Sister Golden Hair’ with America…”  Uhhh, you wanna try, “That’s ‘Sister Golden Hair’ BY America,” or “That’s America with ‘Sister Golden Hair’,” hon?  I hear other radio jocks do this too, and it bugs the shit out of me.  Poor grammar…

By the way, “Sister Golden Hair”—the only song I’ve ever heard that has a count-in at the end!

WHAT A BUMMER!
The Mo’Nique show at Ameristar Casino scheduled for next month has been cancelled.  I’m going out on a limb here, but I bet it’s because no one was willing to pay 55 bucks (plus service charge) to see this no-talent hack perform.  Nice to know that Americans do still have a little common sense these days…

PREDICTABLE…
The new Independence minor league hockey team announced its name this week:  Missouri Mavericks.  Mavericks is okay, I guess, but it’s been used already.  Reminds me too much of Sarah Palin, Mark Cuban and crappy ‘70s Ford compact cars, too.  I was hoping they’d come up with something new and/or unique, and apparently, they passed on my suggestion of “Kansas City Faggots” in honor of Slim Pickens in Blazing Saddles.  Their color scheme of light blue and orange doesn’t exactly honk my hooter either—too similar to the old Denver Broncos colors.  Oh well, we haven’t had hockey in this town in over five years, so it’s better than nothing.

NOT BACK IN BLACK
At the risk of contradicting myself in terms of “new and/or unique”, I’m pleased to see that the Philadelphia 76ers are reverting back to their old logo and colors from the Dr. J. era/heyday.  That black, gold and teal they’d been wearing the last few years just didn’t work for me.  Too many sports teams either wear black or have incorporated black into their color schemes in the last ten years (including the Royals, who ditched it year before last), and it’s becoming overdone.  Black is cool, but let’s not run it into the ground.

THAT’S S-A-N-F-O-R-D, PERIOD!
Nice job by South Carolina Gov. Sanford of sneaking off to South America to doink some gal on the taxpayers’ dime.  Hope she was worth it because his political career is worth about as much as Fred G. Sanford’s “empire” now…

MORE CURRENT THINGS I COULD DO WITHOUT...
A) The talking Volkswagen on the TV commercials, which has became every bit as annoying as the overly-perky Progressive Insurance girl.  Achtung, already, dummkopf!  B) Perez Hilton.  I’m fairly sympathetic to those in the gay community, and this clown isn’t doing them any favors by prolonging a bad stereotype.

CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #116
"I'll Be There"—JACKSON FIVE (1970)  "I'll be there...I'll be there..."  In honor of the dearly-departed, when I was six years old listening to WHB on the radio, I was also a burgeoning young Kansas City Chiefs fan, and when I first heard this song, I thought they were singing "Bobby Bell...Bobby Bell..." as in the Chiefs Hall of Fame linebacker.  I was a weird little kid...

KEEP ON WHAT?
Was listening to some CCR the other day, including the song "Keep On Chooglin'", and wondered what the hell ‘Chooglin’’ means.  Can’t say that I’ve ever choogled before.  Not on purpose anyway…

THANKS……but I wanted a BUD Light!

Death, I hear you calling...

The Reaper's been a busy som-bitch in the celebrity world this week—especially today. June 25, 2009 will no doubt go down as one of those "Where were you when you heard..." kind of days.

MICHAEL JACKSON, 1958-2009
I just signed on to the computer 15 minutes ago and was dumbstruck by the news of Jacko's passing, even though I've often predicted a premature demise for him, not unlike that of Elvis Presley 32 years ago.  They haven't given any details on cause of death, but I have a strong suspicion it was self-inflicted (intentionally or otherwise).  Then again, the Michael Jackson I knew and revered has been dead a long time now, ever since the multi-talented good-looking black kid I grew up listening to was replaced by the sissified, crotch-grabbing, zombie-looking white pervert who had a thing for little boys.  Anybody remember the animated Jackson 5 Saturday morning cartoon show in the early '70s?  That's what really got me into the Jacksons, and I prefer to remember Michael the way I first encountered him—as a 12-year-old fronting the group with his brothers, singing classics like "I'll Be There" and "Never Can Say Goodbye" when I fell asleep with the radio tuned to WHB every night when I was six years old.  I still need to digest this story more before I can properly comment on it, but for now, I'll just say that I'm in shock, yet I'm not shocked at the same time.

FARRAH FAWCETT, 1947-2009
The inevitable finally happened today. Rather than re-hash what I’ve already written about her, I kindly redirect you to my Farrah commentary from last month.  At least the suffering is over for her now...

To lose not one, but two '70s icons on the same day is a bit tough to take.

ED McMAHON, 1923-2009
Since I grew up watching the "Tonight Show" in the '70s, I consider Ed to be one of my '70s icons too, in a way.  I think we could see his passing coming for quite a while now, and sadly, Ed’s memory is a bit sullied by his recent financial woes.  Still, it’s hard to imagine what late nights back in the day would’ve been like without this man.  We all knew his hearty laughter on the "Tonight Show" was often forced, but it was still reassuring to me, for some reason, and he was like a steady anchor every night, especially when Johnny wasn’t on.  And whenever I hear the name Alpo, I almost automatically think of McMahon’s frequent live dog food commercials on the show, especially this one where a finicky dog passed on the chow and Carson got on all fours to sub for the pooch.  Ed was a good sport whenever JC would razz him about his drinking habits (which I don’t think were quite as prolific as Johnny made them out to be) and even when the late George Carlin said, "Just once, wouldn’t you love to see someone on the Johnny Carson panel go ‘Ooooh, goddamn, Ed—move down, will ya!"  I also always loved it when he kept repeating Johnny’s answers during the Carnac The Magnificent bits, culminating with "I now hold in my hand, the LAST envelope…"

Now, I coulda done without the Publishers Clearinghouse TV ads, as well as "Star Search" in the ‘80s, but I actually did enjoy Ed’s work when he co-hosted Jerry Lewis’s telethon all those years.  In fact, I think I enjoyed Ed more than Jerry, sometimes.  As for the money stuff, Ed should’ve divorced that wife of his a long time ago—from what I hear, she’s the one who frittered away all his dough!  A rather ignominious end to a fine career.  S’long, Ed...

And from what I hear, the news is not good regarding newscasting legend Walter Cronkite, either...

We don't need no stinking new stadium!

I finally took my ass out to the ballgame this week and checked out the newly-remodeled Kauffman Stadium and I was quite impressed with the renovations.  I knew there were lots of changes, but as I approached the stadium on foot, I overheard Kiss' "War Machine" playing on the P.A. and thought to myself, "This is not your father's Kauffman Stadium!"

Let's get the dumb stuff out of the way first—I don't get the point of these two big chunks they took out of the upper deck.  Ostensibly, they're supposed to be gathering spots for people to stand around and watch the game from, but was it really worth wiping out several hundred seats for?

 

I always wanted to see the famed fountains up close, and now we can!

New statuary has been added at the "K" since my last visit.  This would be the late Dick Howser...

...and Royals' Hall of Famer Frank White, who was a member of the original construction crew for then-Royals Stadium in the offseason back in the early '70s.








 

Now THAT'S a Hi-Def TV!

True to form, the Royals lost when I attended one of their games, but I was quite pleased to see that what was once the coolest stadium in Major League Baseball still is!

And across the parking lot, work continues on The 'Head.  Hope it turns out just as nice as its beisbol counterpart...

"Where have all the bloggers gone?"

Seriously, where's everybody been lately?  Seems like no one’s writing much these days.  Please tell me this Twitter crap isn’t usurping blogdom…

WHY’S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKIN’ ON ME?
That seems to be Sarah Palin’s mantra anymore.  Yes, David Letterman’s joke last week about A-Rod doinking her daughter(s) was in very poor taste, and I can see why Palin and her family would be offended, but she needs to knock off her “Woe is me” act every time someone pokes fun at her—you’re a politician, sweetheart, it goes with the territory!  Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi take their fair share of abuse (mostly at the hands of Faux News Channel) and they don’t whine about it.  And while I agree that a politician’s children should be off-limits (I already said the same thing on this blog regarding Obama’s kids), Ms. Winky-Dink sure didn’t help matters any by constantly trotting out her kids for all the world to see during the campaign—as if to say, “Hey, look—my husband’s dick works!”  Seems to me that one of the qualifications for being President is having a thick skin.  Quit your bitching, already…

SPEAKING OF BAD TASTE…
I was watching a “Family Guy” rerun last night during which one of the flashbacks was something about Michael J. Fox being miscast in a new Zorro flick where when he leaves his “mark”, it’s a bunch of squiggly lines instead of a ‘Z’.  Memo to “Family Guy” creator Seth MacFarlane:  Dude, if you’re out there reading this, I love your show to death—it’s wickedly funny and some of the best satire I’ve ever seen—but making fun of people’s illnesses is where I draw the line.  I realize that you guys are equal-opportunity disher-outers when it comes to lampooning celebrities—and many of them deserve it, like Dick Cheney, Mel Gibson, Will Ferrell, et al—but this puts you in the same league with ass-hats like Rush Limbaugh when you do this kind of crap, and you’re better than that.  What’s next, poking fun at Farrah Fawcett’s cancer?  No class!

WIGGIN’ OUT
Did ya see the mug shots of new jailbird Phil Spector last weekend, minus his infamous hairpieces?  Evidently, that’s a fashion accessory they don’t allow in the pokie, so here be PS au naturel.  Dude, get rid of that scraggly shit and shave your head already!

Meanwhile, Spector’s wife Rachelle, a 28-year-old woman who married this 69-year-old millionaire three years AFTER he was accused of murder—a clear case of A.N.S. (Anna Nicole Syndrome)—is whining about him being mistreated during his incarceration, saying “They took my husband’s freedom and dignity. So why not his hair?”  Uhhh, sweetheart, he murdered somebody!  And besides, you call THIS dignified?!?  This gal is a few fries shy of a Happy Meal anyway, claiming no remorse for marrying Spector in the very same foyer where he murdered Lana Clarkson, and claiming she sits in the chair where Clarkson died “all the time.”  She insists that Spector “couldn’t hurt a fly”, even though five different women testified at the trial that he would get royally ripped and pull guns on them.  Damn, Hollywood people are strange…

MOVIE REVIEW: GRAN TORINO
I’ll keep this short and sweet:  If you like Clint Eastwood, you’ll love this one.  I like Clint, so I enjoyed it, mucho.  Only thing I didn’t care for was Clint’s gravelly old-man voice (which he also used in Million Dollar Baby), which really grates on me after a while.  He speaks just fine in the special features on the DVD, though.  Good story, and good flick.  I give it a 7.5.

NBA BASKETBALL—IT DOESN’T GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS…EVER!
Man, was that a snoozer of a Finals series between the Lakers and Orlando?  Screw Sominex, this thing woulda put you to sleep naturally.  I used to love the Lakers back in the ‘70s when they had Wilt Chamberlain, Happy Hairston, Gail Goodrich, Jerry West and Jim McMillan, and still rooted for them in the ‘80s with Kareem, Magic and Worthy, et al, but I can’t stand them now because of Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson—two arrogant asses.  Yes, I give Jackson his due for winning ten championships—just like I give Billy Martin his due for producing winning teams—but that doesn’t mean I have to like him.  As for Kobe, he’s a great player, no question, but he’s also one of the most unlikable superstars in sports history.  One good thing, though—now that Kobe got his championship without Shaq, the media can finally shut up about that.  But they probably won’t…

HAIL TO THE PENGUINS!
At least the NHL had an exciting championship series this year, and I woulda bet the farm that Pittsburgh wouldn’t win the Stanley Cup the other night in Game 7 in Detroit—good thing I didn’t!  The home team had won all six previous games, and you figured the Red Wings would rule at home in Game 7, but the Pens scored first and controlled the game throughout.  You still have to give it up to Detroit—five Cups and seven Finals appearances in the last 14 years is nothing to sneeze at, and they have some future Hall of Famers on their roster, to boot, like Niklas Lidstrom and Pavel Datsyuk.  No offense to Pittsburgh and Detroit, but let’s get some new participants in next year’s finals—I’m getting tired of these guys already!

"ARE YOU EXPERIENCED?  HAVE YOU EVER BEEN EXPERIENCED?  WELL, I HAVE…"
I spent part of my birthday afternoon the other day at the College Basketball Experience at the Sprint Center downtown, and rather enjoyed it.  They have numerous interactive exhibits where you can shoot hoops, as well as a ¾ size basketball court you can play on.  I don’t think I’ve shot hoops on a regulation hardwood floor since, like, high school, and my brief session wound up being a nice little workout.  The rest of the displays and the College Basketball Hall of Fame itself were all well-worth the $10 admission.  A little tip, too:  go on a weekday when there’s hardly anyone around—much more enjoyable.

"FORGET ALL YOUR TROUBLES, FORGET ALL YOUR CARES AND GO DOWNTOWN…"
While I was in the area, I roamed around downtown K.C. on Thursday and was really impressed with all the changes brought on by the Power & Light District.  I worked downtown in the early and mid-‘90s, and even during the daytime, things seemed so dead everywhere, and when 5:00 rolled around, it turned into a virtual ghost town.  Now it seems a lot more alive, and I almost wish I worked down there again, given all the new options we have for eating out, even outside the P&L thing.  I sampled the new Chef Burger at P&L which had been highly-touted, and found it to be a tad overrated, but still not bad.  And if I still worked downtown, knowing me, I’d be chowing down at Famous Dave’s BBQ every other day.

Another feature I like is the covered/yet open-air K.C. Live pavilion across from Sprint Center that houses small concerts and other entertainment.









THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK!
I also got my first in-person look at the newly-remodeled Empire Theater, which is now an AMC mega-plex.  I’m pleased that the wrecking ball spared this grand old theater, which had sat dormant for many many years and served mostly as a pigeon roost for the last two decades.  I’ve only been inside the Empire once that I can remember—we saw Porky’s there in ’82!—and I remember it being a cool old place back then.

NEVER…
…let it be said that Kansas City doesn’t have balls!

Things are DIRE all over!

Haven’t done a band tribute in a while, so here’s one on a band I really got into in the early ‘90s, even though they’d been around quite a while, Dire Straits—one of the few “critic’s choice” bands I actually like.  I always enjoyed DS and their hit singles during the ‘80s, but it wasn’t until 1991’s outstanding On Every Street album that I totally embraced the group—just in time for them to cease making studio albums, naturally!  Singer/guitarist Mark Knopfler’s reason for shutting Straits down was that the group’s success “was all getting too big” (or words to that effect).  I’ve never quite understood that, because with their ever-changing line-up of personnel, it always seemed like Dire was more of a backing band for Knopfler than a full-fledged group effort anyway—only bassist John Illsley made the entire trip with him.  MK is sort of an odd duck with his quirky sense of humor and idiosyncratic Country-tinged style of guitar playing and Dylan-esque vocals, but it all worked and he could put out some fairly tasty music when he was fully-motivated to.

Although critically acclaimed, I never thought much of Dire Straits’ first two albums, apart from the classic hit “Sultans Of Swing”.  It wasn’t until album number three, 1981’s Making Movies, that they hit their stride, in my opinion, with great stuff like “Solid Rock”, “Skateaway”, “Tunnel Of Love” and “Romeo & Juliet”.  In spite of its goofy hit song “Industrial Disease”, 1982’s Love Over Gold didn’t honk my hooter either—it had too many long, drawn-out songs that didn’t hold my interest (one lasted almost 15 minutes—bigger isn‘t necessarily better).  DS hit the platinum motherlode in 1985 with Brothers In Arms, which contained the mammoth hit “Money For Nothing”, as well as “Walk Of Life” and “So Far Away”.  Much to the consternation of Warner Bros. Records, no doubt, six years of silence ensued before On Every Street appeared in ’91.  And nothing but silence since then…

My All-Time Dire Straits Top 15
15) So Far Away (1985)  Kind of a weird choice for the lead-off track on the Brothers In Arms album, but very atmospheric and trippy, all the same.
14) Les Boys (1981)  Oddball postscript from the Making Movies LP about some fellers who “are glad to be gay”.  Relax, Alex, if you’re reading this—it’s just a silly song and I still like girls, mmm-kay?
13) Money For Nothing (1985)  I absolutely loved this song when it first came out, but it’s been played to death so much on the radio that I’m burned-out on it now, otherwise it'd have finished much higher on my list.  The line “That little faggot with the earring and the make-up” was a direct hit on the Artist, and I loved it.  Classic video too.
12) Industrial Disease (1982)  Only really accessible song off Love Over Gold, and a funny one, to boot.  For some reason, I can’t help but associate the story of it with one Homer J. Simpson…
11) Walk Of Life (1985)  Resistance is futile here, with such a catchy hook and fun attitude.  Brilliant idea for the video, too, by including baseball, football and basketball bloopers therein.
10) On Every Street (1991)  Takes forever for this song to get going, but once it does, I love the riff Knopfler plays throughout and the steel guitar in the background.  It’s kinda fun to change the title to “On Sesame Street” while singing along…
9) Tunnel Of Love (1981)  I think of the line “let it rock and let it roll” every time I play a slot machine…
8) Sultans Of Swing (1979)  Man, what a breath of fresh air this thing was on Top 40 radio when it came out during the height of Disco malaise!  Way over-played on Classic Rock stations now, but still a great record.
7) Calling Elvis (1991)  Knopfler’s goofball humor hard at work here.  You can almost picture Johnny Cash singing this one too.  In both cases, “You got to tell him, he’s STILL the man…”
6) Heavy Fuel (1991)  True to its title, this is one of Dire’s heavier tunes, sounding very Z.Z. Top-like in places.  Six hamburgers, Gracie?  I can only assume he was talking White Castles.  Two regular burgers at a time is about all I can handle.
5) Ticket To Heaven (1991)  This was a brilliant body slam (performed in the most subtle manner possible by Knopfler) on TV evangelists everywhere, filled with lush strings and Flamenco guitar.  “Now I send what I can to the man with the diamond ring…”
4) The Bug (1991)  I believe this one’s been covered by more than a few Country artists, and it’s a great way to look at life:  “Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug…”
3) Twistin’ By The Pool (1984)  Not unlike “Walk of Life”, this one is pretty irresistible too.  Although it got regular spins on MTV, it never really caught on as a hit record, for whatever reason.  Too bad, because it’s a fun little romp and a great party song.
2) Skateaway (1981)  This one is very atmospheric, too, and I always loved Knopfler’s twangy lead guitar as the song fades into the sunset here.
1) Solid Rock (1981)  Why this one doesn’t get played on the radio as much as “Money For Nothing” and “Sultans Of Swing” mystifies me.  Sonically, it’s not much different than “Sultans”, but never made it as a hit single.  Love the attitude in the lyrics here (“When you point your finger ‘cus your plan fell through, you got three more fingers pointin’ back at you, yeah…”) as well as Knopfler’s staccato lead guitar work.

"Can't pretend that growing older never hurts..."

Tomorrow is my 45th birthday.  Not sure whether to celebrate or mourn at this point…

DAVID CARRADINE, 1936-2009
I have to say I never really had an opinion on actor David Carradine one way or the other.  I remember my older brother used to watch “Kung Fu” all the time back in the day, but I was only 8 or 9 at the time and found it very boring.  Never got into the Kill Bill movies either.  You can bet the farm, though, that the tabloids and TMZ people must be having a field day over this guy’s death and the alleged lurid circumstances thereof involving the ignorant act of auto-erotic asphixiation.  I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m going to anyway:  it sounds to me as if DC came and went at the same time…

CHECK IT OUT, LEROY!
Look who’s in rehab, none other than singer Henry Lee Summer, according to this article.  Seems he got busted about a month ago on Meth charges.  I know—it’s not nice to kick someone who’s down, but that mug shot just screams out to be made fun of.  Perhaps Henry Lee hit bottom when he finally realized that trying to follow in John Mellencamp’s footsteps was a dumb idea after all…





DIGITAL TV? MEH!
I guess they’re going to make the big switch-eroo Friday from analog to digital TV broadcasting, unless they postpone it again.  I have cable TV, but I’ve been totally underwhelmed by the whole state-of-the-art fiber-optic poly-unsaturated whoop-de-doo digital thing on Compost, er uh—Comcast, with whom I’ve been at odds over this for about eight months now after numerous service calls.  Half the time, my channels start pixellating at will, the sound cuts out and the picture flashes constantly, and it becomes totally unwatchable.  I was trying to watch hockey the other night when this occurred, and it rendered my Sony Trinitron nothing more than a 27" strobe light!  Meanwhile, the same cable programming comes in just fine on my 19” bedroom TV that doesn’t have the digital converter.  Comcast—it’s Crap-tastic!

NOOO-PRAH!
Anyone read the big cover story in last week’s Newsleak about Oprah?  A very interesting read if you wanna see Ms. Winfrey brought down a few pegs.  Now, before all you Oprah sycophants out there aim your bazookas at me, let me preface my remarks a bit.  I’ve always applauded her for taking the high road on her talk show—thus sparing us the Springer-esque and Povich-ian White Trash Theater palaver of “I’m sleeping with my son’s transsexual midget girlfriend”, et al—and I do believe Oprah means well.  However, I get a little concerned about her omni-presence in the media and the sway she holds over so many people, to the point where Oprah’s fan(atic)s believe in everything she says and advocates/sponsors on her show, not unlike how Rush Limbaugh’s over-sized cult following does, in their own way.  I also agree with the article where it questioned how Winfrey can possibly pass herself off as an “everyday” woman when she’s an unapproachable multi-billionaire and totally out-of-touch with lay people.  Oprah’s constant weight-loss advice doesn’t cut much ice with me when she can’t seem to maintain her own weight very consistently, and I have to question Oprah’s credibility by having Suzanne Somers on her show as an authority on anything—unless the discussion is about being an untalented semi-attractive hack actress who somehow got lucky and made it.

WHAT THE DEUCE?
Total non-sequitur here, but does anybody remember when ESPN2 was called “The Deuce” back when it first started?  Remember how they tried to appeal to the irreverent MTV generation with all the lame lower case graphics?  And Keith Olbermann anchoring “SportsCenter” wearing a leather jacket?  Wonder why it didn’t last…

THIS IS THE END, BEAUTIFUL FRIEND—THE END
It would appear all efforts to save what remained of Detroit’s Tiger Stadium have failed, as the preservationists were unable to come up with the $33.4 million needed to renovate the grandstand and convert it into a minor league ballpark.  Workers have already begun demolishing what’s left of the stadium.  I’m disappointed, but it’s time to let go—may it rest in pieces…

WHAT A PLAYLIST!
I always get a chuckle at how my iPod shuffles songs and the weird combinations it comes up with.  I almost always listen in shuffle mode, and my policy is to never skip a song—if it’s in my iPod in the first place, there’s a reason why, so no skipping allowed!  Check out the eclectic mix I enjoyed while mowing the back 40 the other night (in order):

Tunnel of Love—BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN (The ONLY time I enjoy hearing anyone yodeling!)
Big City Girls—APRIL WINE
Voices Of Babylon—THE OUTFIELD
Steel Claw—DAVE EDMUNDS
The Mob Rules—BLACK SABBATH
King Of Love—DAVE EDMUNDS
The Song Is Over—THE WHO
Unholy—KISS
Yo-Yo—THE OSMONDS
The Actor—THE MOODY BLUES
Bloody Reunion (Live)—MOLLY HATCHET
Cotton-Eyed Joe—RED NEX
Going To Brazil—MOTORHEAD
In A Different Light—THE BANGLES
Jenny Says—COWBOY MOUTH
Lover’s Night—JANE WIEDLIN
In My Dreams—DOKKEN
Higher Ground—RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS
Take A Look At Yourself—PAUL REVERE & THE RAIDERS
Across The Border—E.L.O.

How ‘bout that Kiss/Osmonds/Moody Blues triple-play combo in the middle there?  I’m fairly certain those three songs had never been played in succession in recorded history before!  Makes me feel kinda special, in a bizarre way…

WHERE THERE’S A WILL, THERE AIN’T NO WAY…
Looks like the updated Land Of The Lost flick is the latest semi-annual flop starring Will Ferrell, aka this generation’s Chevy Chase.  I’ve never found this hack to be funny in the first place, and it only figures he couldn’t even make a go of an old show that could be easily ridiculed.

"LOTL" was one of Sid & Marty Krofft’s better creations back in the ’70s Saturday morning kids fare, all about a father and his two kids on a rafting trip who go back to the dinosaur age during an earthquake—don’t ask me how!  Great storyline until the guy who played the father got fired and was replaced by another guy who played his brother.  No one bothered to explain how the uncle was able to switch places in the time-space compendium, though.

A little trivia for you:  on the original NBC "LOTL" show, one of the Sleestaks was portrayed by future Detroit Piston Bill Laimbeer.

CHECK ME OUT (AT THE LIBRARY)
For the first time since I was about ten, I am the proud owner of a library card!  At the urging of a fellow co-worker, I decided to take advantage of something I’m already paying taxes on anyway by utilizing my public library system.  I was totally unaware that the Mid-Continent Public Library system here in K.C. had such a great selection of CDs (something a little less stodgy than Ray Conniff and Lawrence Welk!) and DVDs to borrow, much less up-to-date books like the recent biography on “Peanuts” creator Charles M. Schulz (which I almost paid 30 bucks for when it was released), and a 2008 bio on The Who’s Pete Townshend.  Thanks the library, I’m able to bypass my Netflix subscription and borrow the likes of “Hawaii Five-O” on DVD—an entire season at a time rather than just a disc at a time, too.  I’m also able to fill in a few gaps in my music collection by pirating/copying a few old albums that I have on vinyl, but never replaced with CDs (Aerosmith’s Toys In The Attic and George Thorogood’s Bad To The Bone, for instance), as well as some albums I never had at all, like Pink Floyd's Animals.  What the hell, you can’t beat free!

THE ORIGINAL T.O.
My latest DVD view on Netflix is the old Tony Orlando & Dawn CBS variety show box set.  It was your basic typical mid-‘70s variety show, and thankfully, TO&D wasn’t nearly as gaudy or schlocky as the Captain & Tennille’s disasterpiece during that same era.  Orlando seemed to be a good fit for a show like this, given his gregarious personality, and Dawn (Telma Hopkins and Joyce Vincent-Wilson) certainly weren’t hard on the eyes (or ears).  The show debuted as a summer replacement series in 1974, and came and went in intermittent stints for a couple years after that.  As one might guess, their guests were mostly from CBS shows, folks like Ted Knight and Georgia Engel from “Mary Tyler Moore Show” and Loretta Swit from “MASH”, although a later incarnation of the show included George Carlin as a regular and guest appearances by Alice Cooper and the late Freddie Prinze, who was a close friend of Orlando’s.  Prinze was also featured on a fairly poignant special feature on the DVD, shown guest-hosting the “Tonight Show” for the first time in 1976 with Orlando as his guest.  It’s eerie (and sad) to see him in such high spirits that night, knowing that less than a year later, Prinze would succumb to his personal demons and take his own life, subsequently sending Orlando himself into a major downward spiral/depression.  T.O. eventually recovered, and I believe he still performs regularly in Branson as Tony Orlando & Dusk.

GOOD QUESTION/GOOD ANSWER
Physician (To Burt Campbell on “Soap”):  “Are you going to be alright, Burt?”Burt Campbell (having just been informed he had six months to live):  “Apparently not!!”