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NOW, WAS THAT SO TERRIBLE?
Hate to tell all youse righties I told ya so, but I read the transcript of President O’s school kid speech yesterday, and there was nothing even remotely political, subversive or Socialist about it, contrary to all the asinine fear-mongering perpetrated by the very wrong Right last week. Obama delivered the speech pretty much as advertised—he urged kids to focus on excelling in school, getting good grades and just being good citizens in general—and even Über-Righty Newt Gingrich praised it as a fine address to America’s young people. Still, I’m sure this won’t stop the dreaded paranoids from claiming shit like, “But if you play the speech backwards, that damn Obama says stuff like ‘Kill your parents’ or that if you take out every other word, he’s really promoting his Communist agenda...” or some such nonsense.
When I posted my remarks on Facebook yesterday, my conservative best friend of 31 years still countered with some crap from 1991 where the Democrats were dogging on Pappy Bush for giving a similar speech directed at school kids. Okay, fine, both parties are guilty of playing dirty since the dawn of time, but does that justify the demonizing of Obama and all the ignorant recent statements by conservative politicians like “This is something you’d expect to see in North Korea or Saddam Hussein’s Iraq.”? I think not. This whole episode is precisely why I cannot take the Republican Party (in its current state) seriously—they came off here appearing far more petty and childish than most of the kids this friggin’ speech was aimed at in the first place. If I were a Republican, I’d be embarrassed as hell right about now...
REELIN’ IN THE YEARS?
According to Kansas City Star sportswriter Randy Covitz in today’s edition: “It was 50 years ago tonight—Sept. 9, 1960—when…the American Football League kicked off its first season.” Wait a minute, Chester! If I'm not mistaken, 2009 minus 1960 = 49. Either that, or it's Sept. 9, 2010 and I’m now 46 years old—my my, where has the time gone?!? Seriously, while I think it’s great that the NFL is celebrating the dawn of the AFL, I think they’re jumping the gun a bit here. I mean, you wouldn’t celebrate your 45th birthday when you were still 44, would you?
I’ve never understood why these round-number anniversaries are always celebrated a year too early. For instance, the Kiss “10th Anniversary Tour” happened in 1983, even though their touring history began (for all intents and purposes) after their debut album was released in early, 1974. The Kansas City Chiefs celebrated the 40th anniversary of the franchise in 1999, even though it began in 1960 (in Dallas, no less), and they didn’t arrive in K.C. until ‘63. Maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but it seems to me the 40th anniversary Chiefs thing should’ve actually been in 2003. At least the Royals got it right by commemorating their 40th anniversary this season. And next year, they get to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the last time they were relevant…
THE ROYAL SCAM
Speaking of our local Major League entry, I don’t know how accurate this is, but I heard one of the local radio sports yakkers yesterday say that the Kansas City Royals’ current Major League payroll (including September call-ups from the minors) actually exceeds the St. Louis Cardinals’ payroll by $2 million! And guess which team’s going to the playoffs and guess who’s feeding the worms. Something ain’t right here in K.C., that’s for sure. Look at Tampa Bay—while they’re probably going to miss the playoffs this year coming off their World Series appearance in ‘08, they’ll still most likely have another winning season, proving that last year was no fluke and that it’s possible for bottom-feeders like the Royals to improve their lot in life. So at this point, I don’t want to hear about all that “small market” disadvantage crap anymore. At least the Royals have wisely decided not to raise ticket prices for next season.
You also have to tip your hat to the Redbirds’ front office people—they always field a winner (only one last-place finish in the last 40 years) and they know where to find the right talent. Hell, the Cardinals won it all in 2006, but three years later, there are only four players who were on that roster (Albert Pujols, Cris Carpenter, Adam Wainwright and Yadier Molina), yet here they are again poised to make another run at a title with virtually a whole new team. What’s scarier is the 2009 Cardinals are far superior to that World Champion 2006 squad. Meantime, all we do here in K.C. is “rebuild” while St. Louis merely reloads! Come on Royals, get your shit together in the off-season, for once…
I THINK THEY PASSED THE AUDITION ALREADY…
I've always thought these Entertainment Weekly people were full of shit, now I'm convinced. Witness their ranking of The Beatles studio LPs:
1) Revolver
2) Rubber Soul
3) White Album
4) Abbey Road
5) A Hard Day's Night
6) Beatles For Sale7) Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
8) Help!
9) With The Beatles
10) Past Masters
11) Let It Be
12) Please Please Me
13) Magical Mystery Tour
14) Yellow Submarine
Okay, I have no quarrel with Revolver at #1—it's one of my favorites—but the White Album ahead of Abbey Road?!? Beatles for Sale in front of Sgt. Pepper? Whatchutalkinbout, Willis?!? Entertainment Weakly contradicts themselves in their little write-up anyway, saying that the White Album is admittedly loaded with filler tracks, while deeming Abbey Road to be "near perfection", yet it finished behind the White Album on their list—makes no sense. And how can Sgt Pepper not be in the top three, let alone behind Beatles For Sale, which might have been the most uninspired Beatle album ever, apart from Let It Be? One look at their faces on the album jacket of For Sale shows how exhausted they were by Beatlemania and in need of a long break. With The Beatles should've been higher up on the list as well—it was easily the best of their early albums.
Only about half of the White Album was worth releasing, and it would've been sooo much better if they'd just put out a single album comprised of the best tracks, instead of the double-LP we all know. As good as it was, there was a lot of crap on the White Album that wouldn't have made the cut on a Beatles single-LP, and I could've done without the obvious throwaway tracks like "Long, Long, Long", "Savoy Truffle", "Why Don‘t We Do It In The Road", "Cry Baby Cry", "Wild Honey Pie", "Revolution #9", etc.
I’ve always thought Rubber Soul was a skosh overrated too, but that’s just me. Here are my rankings:
1) Revolver
2) Abbey Road
3) Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
4) With The Beatles
5) A Hard Days Night
6) Rubber Soul
7) Help!
8) Please Please Me
9) The White Album
10) Magical Mystery Tour
11) Let It Be
12) Beatles For Sale
13) Yellow Submarine
[NOTE: Past Masters doesn’t make my list because compilations and greatest hits packages don’t count in my book!]
As for the newly-released re-mastered CDs, what’s the point? There’s nothing wrong with what’s already been released, IMHO. Just another excuse to get people to buy Beatles music all over again, I guess. And how come they never saw fit to release The Beatles At The Hollywood Bowl on CD with all the other ones? That album came out on vinyl in 1977 and while not the greatest record in the world, it was still an interesting documentary of the height of Beatlemania, if nothing else. I’m also mildly surprised they didn’t cut a deal with Wal-Mart for exclusive rights to sell the new Beatles CD, just like the Eagles, AC/DC and Kiss have. Have I ever mentioned that I loathe Wal-Mart? Wal-Mart, to me, is like the Fox News Channel of retail stores (whereas Target is, say, CNN), and I avoid it like the Plague.
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
Is it just me, or does it seem really crass that State Farm Insurance is currently using Michael Jackson’s vocal track from “I’ll Be There” in their TV ads? Seems to me that this ain’t the appropriate time to be using the “King Of Pop” for any sort of advertising, but State Fart—er uh—Farm apparently has no shame.
PICKS THAT CLICK
My pigskin prognostications for 2009 are in!
AFC Division winners: San Diego, Pittsburgh, Indianapolis, New England
AFC Wildcards: Baltimore, Tennessee
AFC Champ: Pittsburgh
NFC Division winners: Arizona, Green Bay, New Orleans, Philadelphia
NFC Wildcards: Carolina, N.Y. Giants;
NFC Champ: Philadelphia
Super Bowl XLIV: Pittsburgh vs. Philadelphia
Champion: Pittsburgh—one for the other pinkie!
Remember, folks, ya heard it here first!
HE’S A PICKIN’…AND HE’S A-GRINNIN’!
I was listening to U2 at work today and was reminded of a story involving a good friend of mine who used to do maintenance at one of the major hotels in K.C. back in the late ‘80s around the time U2 was headlining at Arrowhead Stadium. My friend John boarded the hotel elevator one fine day and encountered Bono carrying a guitar in a case. Now, John—a major Country music fan—didn’t know Bono from Bozo, but upon seeing his guitar, his natural reflex was to say, “Gonna do some pickin’?” “Yeah, probably,” Bono replied politely. Imagine John’s surprise the next morning when he saw Bono’s mug all over the front page of the newspaper…
JUST ANOTHER TEQUILA SNOW JOB…
Not that I give a rat’s scrotum or anything about this tattooed reality show skank who San Diego Chargers linebacker Shawne Merriman is now accused of strangling, but I’d dearly love to know how you can go around calling yourself Tila Tequila and yet claim you’re “allergic to alcohol”…
SEPARATED AT BIRTH?
Just coincidence of course, but these two “Giant A” Anheuser-Busch signs do look mighty similar. The one in color is located alongside U.S. 40/I-64 west of downtown St. Louis near St. Louis University.
The other once sat atop the main scoreboard at old Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. The presence of Kansas City and Brooklyn in the out-of-town scores tells us this pic (click to enlarge) had to have been taken between 1955 and 1957, the only three years when both cities were in the Major Leagues simultaneously. These Buds are for you!
WELCOME TO SILLYVILLE!
Now all the righties have their collective panties in a wad over the upcoming speech President O. plans to deliver next week to school kids. Apparently, Obama plans to encourage kids to focus on their education, get good grades and stay in school—what an ass he is! Sample a bit of the bilge water, if you dare:
—"As far as I am concerned, this is not civics education—it gives the appearance of creating a cult of personality," said Oklahoma state Sen. Steve Russell. "This is something you'd expect to see in North Korea or in Saddam Hussein's Iraq.”
You’re reaching a bit, there, ain’t ya, Comrade Steve?
—PTA council president Cara Mendelsohn said Obama is "cutting out the parent" by speaking to kids during school hours. "Why can't a parent be watching this with their kid in the evening?" Mendelsohn said. "Because that's what makes a powerful statement, when a parent is sitting there saying, 'This is what I dream for you. This is what I want you to achieve.'"
Yeah, right, like the average American parent is actually going to sit down with their kid and listen to the President speak when they can be Twittering or watching “American Idol” or “Jon & Kate”—what parallel universe are you living in? Meantime, what's wrong with the teachers giving some guidance about what the Pres. sez? After all, that's what we taxpayers are paying them to do.
—"Nobody seems to know what he's going to be talking about," Texas Governor Rick Perry said. "Why didn't he spend more time talking to the local districts and superintendents, at least give them a heads-up about it?"
Uhhh, I believe the plan has been pretty much laid out. He’s supposed to talk about the importance of education, mmm-kay?
—In Florida, GOP chairman Jim Greer released a statement that he was "absolutely appalled that taxpayer dollars are being used to spread President Obama's socialist ideology.”
Yes, when taxpayer dollars could better be wasted on voting machines that actually count the freakin’ votes, eh, Jim?
Okay, I know I sound like an Obama sycophant here, but let me assure you I’m not. I’m not saying he has all the answers—hell, he may not even have any of the answers, but good gravy, the guy’s been in office all of seven months and change—he needs more time than that to undo eight years worth of the Village Idiot’s FUBARs! If nothing else, couldn’t y’all at least hold off until AFTER Obama delivers this blasted speech before criticizing it?
This is just more sour grapes because their guy lost in November—get over it, people! It’s merely more typical right-wing “let’s distort the facts and just make up a bunch of shit” paranoia being spread to deflect attention away from the real story—to wit, this is this week’s version of Sarah Palin’s “death panels”. Relax, folks, there will be no need to de-program your kids after the speech—Obama’s not going to turn your precious offspring into Stepford wives or Manson followers, or even Democrats! It’s like these righty wing-nuts only hear what they want to hear, and you can bet your 1,000 Points of Light that if either of the Bushes gave a speech like this to students, there’d be no controversy, would there? And, heaven forbid you’d want your kids to listen to the President of the United States, by God, when there are far more influential voices for them to listen to such as Hannah Montana, Jon & Kate, Pink, Jay-Z, Octomom, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Brad & Angelina and the Jonas Brothers, et al, right?
JUST TO REMAIN “FAIR AND BALANCED”…
Lest ye righties think I’m too much of a lefty (which I’m not), might I also say it’s time to let Ted Kennedy finally rest. Don’t mean to sound disrespectful here, but there have been more than enough glowing tributes and remembrances in the past week, and I’m just about all Kennedied-out. Same goes for Michael Jackson, who is now finally six feet under, a good two months after his untimely demise. Time to let go, folks—life goes on…
Then again, Teddy only had one state funeral, unlike the three or four they held for Reagan—on the taxpayer’s dime, of course (right, GOP Chairman Greer from Florida?). Just thought I’d throw that out…
BUDDY BLATTNER, 1920-2009
Legendary baseball announcer Robert Garnett “Buddy” Blattner passed away yesterday of lung cancer in suburban St. Louis at the age of 89. He was best known for pairing with Hall of Famer Dizzy Dean on St. Louis Browns broadcasts and Mutual Radio in the ‘50s. Buddy was also the original #1 announcer in Royals history, teaming with Denny Matthews from 1969-75, and in turn, he was the first play-by-play man I ever listened to when I was a kid. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard his voice, but I remember he was a really good guy. He retired at a relatively early age for baseball announcers, 55, mostly because he was burned-out on all the travel involved, and it sounds like he had a pretty nice retirement. Rest in peace, Buddy…
I’VE GOT A REALLY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS…
Just like last year, the Kansas City Chefs have shown me absolutely nothing in the preseason to give any hope of a winning season. I don’t necessarily care if they win any of these sham exhibition games—they didn’t—but I’d like to at least see some progress on offense, and so far, it almost appears they’ve regressed instead. And while I was initially excited when the team hired head coach Todd Haley, now I’m wondering if it was the correct move. I’m trying to give TH the benefit of the doubt, but there’s a big difference between being an in-your-face disciplinarian coach and being arrogant, and so far, Haley comes across as the latter, especially after firing offensive coordinator Chan Gailey last week. Just as well, though, I couldn’t see those two big egos peacefully co-existing for long, anyway. Meantime, based on their schedule, this team will be lucky to scratch out three wins this season. I actually kinda miss Herm Edwards, all of a sudden…
SPEAKING OF HERM…
I find his participation in the latest round of these lame Coors Light “post-game press conference” TV ads a bit disingenuous—I thought alcohol was a big no-no with Super Christians like Herm. I’m not saying Christians can’t have beer now and then, but we’re talking about the same guy for whom Fox Sports’ “Best Damn Sports Show…” had to briefly change it name to “Best Darn…” for him to appear on it because Herm abhors cursing of any kind. Sheeeeit, I don’t guess Herm would enjoy reading my blog much, huh? And Coors Light?!? Herm, baby, if you’re gonna do a beer commercial, at least raise your standards a little. Coors Light is the basic equivalent of rhino piss on tap! Don’t ask me how I know that…
SPEAKING OF WIZ…
A memo to the Kansas City Wizards: Ya can’t win if ya don’t score! Our not-so-mighty Major League Soccer entry has been shut out in its last four matches—to wit, they’re scoring every bit as often as I have in the last ten years! This scoreless streak also coincides with the firing of head coach Curt Onalfo, which tells us that their poor showing this season wasn’t necessarily his fault. And by the way, whatever happened to the mythical new Wizards soccer stadium? Every day on the way to work, I drive by the site where it’s supposed be going up, and I still see nothing but Bannister Mall rubble. Let’s get it up, fellas, both on and off the field!
KANSAS CITY STAR—THAT’S WHAT I ARE
K.C. has a new bassit-ball team, for whatever it’s worth, the new Kansas City Stars of the American Basketball Association. I don’t know why this rinky-dink league—which shares nothing with the old ABA of the ‘70s apart from its name and red-white-and-blue game ball—keeps trying to exist by fielding teams comprised of nothing but has-beens, Washington Generals rejects and out-of-shape Shaq and Kobe wanna-bes. We had a team here previously called the Knights that did fairly well earlier in the decade, but the rest of the new ABA had franchises coming and going on a weekly basis, many of them playing their home games in high school gyms, YMCAs, Wal-Mart parking lots, old folks homes—basically any place that would have them. I’ve never understood why they can never seem to organize minor league basketball the way baseball and hockey does their minor leagues. Seems to me we could have a really first-rate farm system for the NBA that could play in markets that don’t have NBA franchises, like K.C., St. Louis, San Diego, Pittsburgh, Buffalo, Birmingham, Omaha, etc., and really make a go of it if they’d market the thing properly.
GO WITH THE FLO
I recently read a biography of late Supremes singer Florence Ballard, whose story was the loose basis for the musical and film Dreamgirls. Unlike Dreamgirls, there was no happy ending for Flo, who got screwed big-time at pretty much every turn after she was fired from the Supremes, especially by Motown founder Berry Gordy, Jr., who had a perpetual hard-on for Diana Ross and totally ignored Ms. Ballard’s talent. Gordy is an important figure in music history, no question, but there’s a lot of dirt under his rug and he basically fucked a lot of people over along the way. Not to diminish what Diana Ross did in her career, but let’s be honest, she’s a bit of a whack job and her voice has all the depth of a thimble. Of the three original Supremes, Flo Ballard was far and away the best singer and had the most soulful voice, but rarely ever got to sing lead. I’ve only heard her a couple of times myself, but I was impressed with what I did hear, like “Ain’t That Good News”. In fact, Flo sounded a bit like Ross’ replacement in the Supremes, Jean Terrell, who sang on early ‘70s hits like “Up The Ladder To The Roof” and “Stoned Love”.
By 1967, Flo was tired of being overshadowed by "Miss Ross" and let it be known, and Gordy basically kicked her to the curb and got her to sign a bad severance deal and things unraveled from that point on in her life, including an attempt at a solo career in the ‘70s on ABC Records. Lawsuit after lawsuit wore Flo down over time, and she started drinking heavily, and she eventually wound up on welfare with three kids to support. She died of a heart attack in February, 1976 at age 32—done way too soon. She deserved a whole lot better, too…
"THEY DIED YOUNG"—VOL. IV
Another fairly young sports venue is biting the dust this summer, Reunion Arena in Dallas. Prior to Reunion’s opening in 1980, Big D never really had a full-size indoor sports facility, instead relying on smaller venues like Moody Coliseum and Memorial Auditorium and Fort Worth’s Tarrant County Convention Center Arena for hockey, basketball and concerts. Located right next door to Reunion Tower, the arena saw the debut of the NBA’s expansion Dallas Mavericks in ’80 and the NHL’s Minnesota North Stars moved there in 1992 to become the just plain “Stars”. Indoor soccer was a hit there as well, with Tatu and the Dallas Sidekicks holding court at Reunion during the late ‘80s/early ‘90s. In June of 2000, my boys the New Jersey Devils won their second Stanley Cup there in Game 6 over the Stars on Jason Arnott’s game-winning goal in OT. Ironically, Arnott later went on to play for Dallas. A couple months after that, I saw The Who play an outstanding show at Reunion on a hot August night, in what turned out to be the last time I got to see the late John Entwistle perform live in concert. I was very impressed with the building that night as well—very clean concourses, great sight lines and comfortable seats.
Alas, Reunion Arena suffered from that common malady shared by other ’80s arenas before it like the already-demolished Charlotte Coliseum and Miami Arena—lack of luxury suites for the corporate fat cats to feed their faces in. Although it did host concerts and rodeos and serve as the home of the Big 12 Women’s basketball tournaments in recent years, RA’s days became numbered when the fancy American Airlines Arena with all its bells and whistles (and Mark Cuban) took over as the major indoor sports venue in Dallas. They took a rather unique approach in demolishing Reunion by tearing everything out but the roof, saving it for last. Brilliant strategy, when you think about it—the wrecking crew no doubt needed as much shade from the searing Texas sun as they could get. And given the “Everything’s bigger in Texas” credo, I say leave the roof up and create the world’s largest carport!
While I still have mixed opinions about Facebook and whether or not I'm staying on it for the long haul, one very cool thing about it is I've been able to re-connect with a couple of my old radio buddies from 20 years ago. Over the weekend, I asked one of them if he had heard from my man "Easy" Earl Harris, whom I'd lost track of about ten years ago. Well, out of the clear blue sky, today I received a note from one of Earl's daughters in response to the blog post I did about Earl a couple years ago. It actually helps to read Great Moments In Radio, Vol. V first before continuing on here.
Anyway, she wrote: "Mr. Holland, I wanted to respond to your Great Moments in Radio, Vol. V. My name is Tija Jackson and I am the oldest daughter of Earl Harris. I moved my father here with me in Kentucky several years ago to pursue his radio career. He was very successful here on the Gospel, R&B and Hip Hop stations as Easy Earl and Brother Earl. About 3 years ago my father had a stroke and it caused him to lose most of his memory as well as his Barry White voice. In fact he had to learn how to speak all over again. Although he has retained some memory and his voice, he has (in his words), "Lost my music". It is so sad because music was his motivation and now he is just going through the motions, pretty much giving up on everything. So when I read your article to my father he remembered the Prince of Darkness and I actually saw some light in his eyes. He made me print a copy of this article so he can have it, he doesn't comprehend what he reads so he has me read to him. This may be his bedtime story for some time now. So Thank You, for Remembering my father."
Wow, what can I say? It sickens me to hear what Earl has been through. He got his nickname for a reason—he's one of the most easy-going people you'll ever meet, and even when life would knock him down, he'd dust himself off, get back up smiling and get back in the race. It certainly blows my mind that my words somehow might be giving him a lift now. I've often questioned (and been questioned) why I spend/waste so much time doing this blog. I confess total self-indulgence on my part, but if it's helping an old friend even one iota in his time of need, then it's been totally worth it.
Thanks so much, Tija, for your note, and I appreciate your taking the time to write and give me an update on your father. Earl, my friend, I miss you and hope there are better days ahead in your life—you're too good a man to be down for long. Whenever I hear the word "patio" I think of you and your mighty "KKJO Patio". I still have the Captain Comet ballcap you had made for me back in the day too. Hang in there, my man, and keep getting better. Long live the Prince of Darkness and the KKJO Patio!
Your friend,
Captain Comet
TED KENNEDY, 1932-2009
Sen. Ted Kennedy is one of those public figures that people either really love or really hate, but I honestly don’t have that big of an opinion on him one way or the other, apart from being really weary of the whole “Kennedy mystique” thing and wondering how on earth Teddy skated on the Chappaquiddick scandal—if that happened today, he’d be out of office faster than you can say Blagojevich. Whenever I hear TK's name, I often think of the Styx song that James “J.Y.” Young wrote in 1979 called “Eddie”, where JY tried to discourage him from running for President in ’80 against Jimmy Carter for fear he’d be cut down in his prime just as his brothers were. Kennedy ran anyway, but gave up when he realized he wouldn’t beat Carter for the nomination, and even if he had, I doubt if he’d have beaten Reagan anyhow. Strange irony too, that Kennedy died within just a couple weeks of the other famous Ted Kennedy, the NHL Hall of Famer known as “Teeder”, who died on August 14th.
LARRY KNECHTEL, 1940-2009
You probably don’t know the name, but if you listened to Pop music at all during the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, you know of his work. Larry Knechtel was the bass player for Bread and he passed away last week of an apparent heart attack. Knechtel was also a prolific session musician—that’s his piano you hear on Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water”—and he played with practically everybody and their mother: namely Neil Diamond, Randy Newman, Elvis Costello, Chet Atkins, Joan Baez, The Dixie Chicks, The Beach Boys, Stephen Bishop, The Spencer Davis Group, John Denver, Duane Eddy, The Doors, The Everly Brothers, The 5th Dimension, Jerry Garcia, The Grass Roots, Jan & Dean, Thelma Houston, Billy Joel, Al Kooper, The Mamas & Papas, Barry McGuire, The Monkees, Harry Nilsson, Dolly Parton, Tina Turner, Elvis Presley, Johnny Rivers, Diana Ross and Nancy Sinatra. He was also a member of the Rip Chords (of “Hey Little Cobra” fame) and now the truth can be told—Larry Knechtel was the real keyboardist for The Partridge Family, NOT Susan Dey. I’m sure some of you might be shocked by that revelation, but it’s true. Rest in peace, Larry—ya done pretty good.
ELLIE GREENWICH, 1940-2009
The Reaper’s been busy again, as legendary songwriter Ellie Greenwich died today in New York of a heart attack. She, along with her former husband/songwriting partner Jeff Barry, co-wrote a plethora of classics, like "Hanky Panky", "River Deep, Mountain High", "Da Doo Ron Ron", "Then He Kissed Me", "Be My Baby" "Baby, I Love You", "Leader Of The Pack", "Chapel Of Love" and "Do Wah Diddy Diddy", the latter of which was recorded the very day yours truly was born, June 11, 1964. With an impressive resumé like that, you’d think Ellie and Jeff would be in the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame, right? Well, they ain’t, but that renowned Rocker Leonard Cohen damn sure is! Rest in peace, Ellie—ya done pretty good, too, in spite of what the (c)Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame might think.
Okay, enough death for one day…
NOW I’M STARTING TO CATCH ON…“And change, almost by definition, always comes too fast, always brings a sense of stark dislocation. As in the woman who cried to a reporter, ‘I want “my country” back!’. Probably the country she meant still had Beaver Cleaver on TV and Doris Day on “Your Hit Parade”.—Leonard Pitts, Jr.
So this is what all this right-wing “I want my country back” stuff in regard to health care reform is all about—the fact that we ain’t in Mayberry anymore? Or Hooterville? Or even Crabapple Cove? Where the hell have these people been the last 50 years? I suppose I could apply the “I want my country back” shtick to the fact that I can’t buy the new Kiss CD anywhere but Wal-Mart or because there are no decent Rock radio stations anymore or that network TV is nothing but a “Reality” show morass, but I’m learning to adapt. Now before I’m accused of “drinking the Obama Kool-Aid” again, I’m not saying his proposals are necessarily all that great, but folks, this current health care system is fucked-up! It’s been fucked-up for a long time. So long, in fact, that we can’t even blame Dubya for it. Something needs to change, and while change can have its trapdoors and such, what the hell are y’all so scared of? I’m tired of hearing all this U.S.S. of A. malarkey. Calm down, Amerika! (Oops…)
“A POINTLESS THING, DEVOID OF GRACE…”—PART 1That’s a Kiss lyric, believe it or not, and it more than applies to something I saw on ESPN the other day. No, it wasn’t their endless Brett Favre lovefest, but rather the latest Mel Kiper, Jr. “mock draft” running on the crawl at the bottom of the screen for the 2010 NFL Draft! WTF? While I realize this Kiper doofus takes himself far too seriously, how can you possibly know who the best college players for 2010 are going to be before the 2009 season even starts? Come on, “Worldwide Leader”, turn off the damn hype machine, already…
“A POINTLESS THING, DEVOID OF GRACE…”—PART 2
Please explain to me why new Chefs head coach Todd Haley insists on removing the players’ Arrowhead helmet stickers during practice—what the hell difference does it make? Other coaches have used this motivational tactic as well, saying the players have to “earn their stripes”, so to speak, but I think it’s friggin’ stupid. And, oh by the way, how come Haley gets to keep the Arrowhead on his hat, hmmm? If it works, more power to him, I suppose, but I think it’s asinine…
ARENA FOOTBALL REBORN!
For those of you mourning the demise of the Arena Football League, there’s a ray of hope for you thanks to Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, whose multi-zillion dollar stadium hosted its first football game the other night in Arlington, TX. All I’ve heard about this place for the last two years is how it’s going to have the biggest Hi-Def TV screens in the world, to the point where they’re visible on satellite images and will have their own ZIP codes. Just one teensy little problem—these oversized monuments to excess hover directly over the football field, right smack dab in the path of airborne punted footballs! It just astounds me that no one took this into account when they designed this place, even though everything apparently was in line with NFL specifications. It’s now up to the NFL’s competition committee to decide what the ground rules are for punts that strike the scoreboard in Dallas, since there’s apparently no way to raise or lower these behemoths. And as much as I'd love to see dem Cowboys get flattened, they also better hope these suckers don’t come crashing back to earth—from what I hear, the damn things weigh several hundred tons.
DOUCHE OF THE WEEK CANDIDATE #1
Rick Pitino, Louisville head basketball coach. Slick Rick pissed and moaned at a press conference today that this sex scandal he was involved in has been “hell” for his family since the media put the story out. Well, Rick baby, whose fault is that? Classic example of what happens when you let the little head do the thinking. Cry me a freakin’ river…
DOUCHE OF THE WEEK CANDIDATE #2
Milton Bradley, Chicago Cubs right fielder. Uncle Milty pissed and moaned yesterday that the fans at Wrigley Field are being mean to him and he faces daily hatred there, according to the Sports Illustrated website. "It's hard to be comfortable when you don't get a hit and get booed every time," he said. "When I go home and look in the mirror, I like what I see.” Well, gee, Milt, can I make a suggestion? Try playing better!!! .259 average, 10 home runs and 32 RBIs? That might lead the Royals, but it’s not acceptable on a team expected to contend. Is this guy a head case, or what?
DOUCHE OF THE WEEK CANDIDATE #3
Kate Gosselin, overexposed “reality” TV personality. Right now, MSNBC’s website has no less than three different headlines on their Entertainment page about this woman, who had a pity-party on “Larry King Live” last night and pissed and moaned, "I'm lonely, but I'm very busy." Come on, America, it’s time to put these sorry-ass people out of their misery and stop watching their TV show! It would be the biggest favor you can do them—they can't seem to handle being famous anyway, and it‘ll stop Jon and Kate from exploiting their children just for ratings.
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #119
“Amos Moses”—JERRY REED (1971) “Well, I wonder where the Louisiana sheriff went to…” sounded to my 7-year-old ears more like “Well, I wonder where Louisiana itself went to…” Like I say, I was a weird little kid...
HELLO, YELLOW BRICK ROAD
Can you believe it was 70 years ago yesterday that The Wizard Of Oz was released? I remember how WOO was an annual rite of passage on CBS when I was a kid, and it always aired on a Sunday night, usually in the Spring—right in the heart of tornado season, naturally. I also remember how the newscaster on our local CBS affiliate always reminded viewers that the first part of the movie was in black-and-white, thus there was no need to adjust your TV set! It’s amazing how many pop culture catchphrases are found in that film—“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…I’ll get you, my pretty!...Follow the yellow brick road…If I only had a brain (Dubya’s theme!)…Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain (Cheney’s theme)…And your little dog, too!” and many many more. Lions and tigers and 70th anniversaries, oh my!
THE BUCK STOPPED THERE
I’m currently reading a book about baseball parks that I borrowed from the library, and under the Kansas City entry, it talks about how the legendary Kansas City Monarchs played at old Municipal Stadium and sometimes the team would take their show on the road and play in St. Joseph, MO, some 50 miles to the north at venerable Phil Welch Stadium. When I worked at KKJO radio in “Joetown” in 1988, the K-JO staff played a charity softball game against the local TV station, KQ-2 (or IQ-2, as we called them) at Phil Welch (I went 2-for-2, thank you very much) and little did I know until today that I once played ball on the very same field the legendary Buck O’Neil played on! I’m totally not worthy…
I had a chance to meet Buck about five or six years ago at a baseball card show and whiffed on it. He came in the room and several people flocked over to meet him. I figured, “eh, he’s probably tired of being hounded,” and I passed on going over to say hello. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Everything I’ve ever heard about Mr. O’Neil is he was just about the most gracious man on the planet, and I should’ve leapt at the chance to meet the man. Too late now…
SAY HELLO TO OUR GOOD FRIEND PAUL SHAFFER...
Kudos to Dave Letterman’s trusty sidekick for acknowledging the passing of former Paul Revere & The Raiders guitarist Drake Levin by playing “Just Like Me” on the “Late Show” last month. Hmmm—Paul Shaffer & The Raiders? Verry interesting! Former Raiders bassist Phil “Fang” Volk, also paid tribute at a memorial event for Drake, as did the ring leader, Paul Revere himself. Nice going, Paul, Phil and Paul—you did “The Kid” proud!
Unless you’re an Internet newbie or have been in a cave since the Clinton administration, you’ve no doubt received or seen that e-mail attachment entitled “Yes, I’m A Bad American”, which no less than three of my good (and well-meaning) friends have sent to me over the last couple years. You know, the one that’s been circulating around the Internet for several years that some chest-thumping scrotum-scratching Alpha-male wrote extolling patriotic American virtues and social mores under the veil of macho bravado bullshit. I did a little snooping (Snoping?) on the Snopes.com site and it seems this thing first surfaced around the Bush-Gore election in 2000 in the FreeRepublic.com forum board.
There are numerous different versions of "Bad American" because it’s been added to and altered more often than Michael Jackson’s face was, plus somewhere along the line, someone tried to claim it was written by the late George Carlin. GC quickly disavowed himself of it on his website long before he died, correctly pointing out that it doesn’t even sound like anything he would’ve written or said. The piece has also been credited to the likes of Ted Nugent, “comedian” Denis Leary (whom I personally find about as funny as crib death) and Rush Limbaugh. After reading it again, I could actually picture Nugent writing something like this much moreso than Carlin, and it’s blatantly obvious that if George had indeed written it, it’d have been a helluva lot funnier and a lot less pompous, but some folks are thoroughly convinced that Brother George was the author anyway. By the way, if you ever look anything up on Snopes, beware of their website—it produces more pop-ups than the Kansas City Royals’ anemic offense...
Anyway, another good friend of mine (again, very well-meaning) e-mailed “Bad American” to me this week, thinking it was fresh and new, and every time I read it, I get riled up. While I don’t necessarily disagree with everything it says, I’m so very tired of this phony right-wing Toby Keith-style rah-rah wrap-yourself-up-in-the-flag rhetoric crap and being told I’m not patriotic and/or not a man because I don’t do this or that. So after reading this stupid thing for the umpteenth time, it was time for Sir Rant-A-Lot to get on the case and play hypocrisy pointer-outer. I put together a composite of the various versions of “Bad American” and went line-by-line here, with my comments in orange (sorry if that’s not a patriotic enough color for you). This is NOT aimed at decent genuine and sincere patriotic Americans, so please don’t take my words personally—it’s aimed at whoever wrote this piece of crap in the first place and those who think it‘s the Gospel truth…
“I am the liberal progressives’ worst nightmare. I am a BAD American.”
Yes, you’re bad and you’re nationwide—and a pain in the backside to a radical moderate like yours truly. Worst nightmare, you say? You ain’t even close—for me, that would be the inevitable “Roseanne” marathon on Nick At Nite.
“I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some mid-level governmental functionary, be it Democratic or Republican.”
Nah, you don’t need trivial crap like roads, bridges, the military, schools, police protection, etc., do ya? You're doin' just fine right there in the ol' Man Cave, eh?
“I’m in touch with my feelings and I like it that way, damn it!”
I normally don’t like to steal other people’s material, but I’ll make an exception this one time with something I read on a similar blog post to this one: “I’m glad you’re in touch with yourself. That’s important. It makes you seem a little more sensitive when your feelings happen to be a giant middle finger to anyone who differs from your opinion.”
“I ride Harley-Davidson motorcycles and I believe in American products.”
Yeah? Well, I don’t see Honda or Toyota needing a bailout, do you? I currently drive a Chevy, but one of the most dependable cars I’ve ever driven was a Honda. Virtually all of my audio/video equipment is made by Sony and Foster’s is one of my favorite beers. Anheuser-Busch is an American corporation (with a German name) that’s been co-opted by Belguim. Am I to assume you won’t drink Budweiser anymore? Good—you just keep right on drinking your Coors and Miller Light, then—that way there’s more Michelob Ultra for me! As for riding Harleys, I prefer having four wheels underneath me when I’m doing 70 mph instead of two—sorry if I’m not manly enough for you. At least I don’t need to wear a helmet to drive to work.
“And, no, I don’t mind having my face shown on my drivers’ license. I think it’s good…and I’m proud that “GOD” is written on my money.”
Just so long as you don’t have to show your face at the weekly KKK rallies—right, Jethro? Not sure what the God/money thing has to do with your drivers’ license, but since money is the root of all evil, does this mean He is endorsing evil?
“I think owning a gun doesn’t make you a killer, it makes you a smart American.”
Owning a gun doesn’t alter your intelligence level one bit, nor does it prove your manhood. All it proves to me is you either like to shoot things or you have a tiny penis and feel you have to compensate for it in other ways. Suck on that one, Fred Nugent!
“I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything.”
Fine, whatever. By the way, your sentence structure is almost as bad as Master Yoda’s, it is.
“I believe if you’re selling me a Big Mac, try to do it in English.”
Only if this also applies to those McDonald’s employees who might “axe” me when my “burfday” is and "where I be stayin' at."
“I think fireworks should be legal on the 4th of July.”
Uhhh, they are, in many municipalities, so I’m sure you can find lots of places to stick that Roman candle up your anus and light it.
“I think that being a student doesn’t give you any more enlightenment than working at Blockbuster. In fact, if your parents are footing the bill to put your pansy ass through four years plus, of college, you haven’t begun to be enlightened.”
Does this go for those pansy ass “student-athletes” that get free-ride scholarships so they can have other people take their exams for them while they play football, Mr. Crimson Tide/Fighting Irish fan?
“I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.”
What’s the bet this doesn’t apply with you when the Muslim chick (who doesn’t speak English) selling you your Big Mac is allowed 15-minute prayer breaks on the job, while the Christians and agnostics have to keep right on working.
“My heroes are John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers and whoever canceled Jerry Springer.”
Jerry’s still on the air, dumbass. You were a panelist on his show once, weren’t you? I remember now—you were the one wearing the Depends diaper (on the outside).
Based on this remark, do y'all HONESTLY still believe G. Carlin wrote this whole diatribe? I think not.
“I don’t hate the rich. I don’t pity the poor.”
I pity the fool who originated this thing. Mr. T. probably does too.
“I know wrestling is fake and I don’t waste my time arguing about it.”
But I bet you still waste your time watching that mindless crap, doncha?
“I think global warming is a big lie. Where are all those experts now, when I’m freezing my ass off during these long winters?”
Don't be stealing my material, butt-munch!
“I’ve never owned a slave, or was a slave, I didn’t wander forty years in the desert after getting chased out of Egypt. I haven’t burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks and neither have you! So shut the hell up already.”
You’re just a do-nothing sort of guy, ain't ya?
“I want to know which church is it exactly where the Reverend Jesse Jackson practices, where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution. Can I get an AMEN on that one?”
Jesse’s a douche, no question, but in my view, you could say that about virtually ALL big-name religious figures and/or mega-churches. The bigger they are, the less I trust them.
“I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry ass if you’re running from them.”
There’s that obsession about shooting things again.
“I also think they have the right to pull your ass over if you’re breaking the law, regardless of what color you are.”
Yes, you don't see enough colored people’s law-breaking donkeys being pulled over these days.
“I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don’t want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.”
That goes double for those who don’t know how to COUNT ballots—can I get an Amen on THAT, Florida and Minnesota?
“I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me crap or trying to guilt me into making “donations” to their cause. These people should be targets.”
I actually agree with this one, only I would add that if you’re ignorant enough to buy candy from a total stranger on a street corner, you deserve to get sick from whatever the seller poisoned it with. Meantime, get your parents to pay for your friggin’ football uniforms and quit holding up traffic at rush hour!
“I believe the President of the United States should put his hand over his heart and say the Pledge of Allegiance and should have no reservations about wearing American flag pins on his lapel.”
You can do anything, but don’t step on my blue suede shoes! And he can wear a carnation that squirts water on his freakin’ lapel, for all I care—I’m so sick of all this superficial symbolism!
“I believe that it doesn’t take a village to raise a child, it takes two parents.”
But those two parents can’t be gay, even if they actually LOVE the child, right? Naw, it’s always better with (take your pick) alcoholic/drug addict/incestuous/deadbeat heterosexual parents instead, especially when there’s TWO, right?
“I believe the American flag should be the only one allowed in AMERICA!”
I missed that memo—when did our country switch to ALL CAPS? Yeah, all those infernal state and local flags are just blasphemous. I guess those checkered flags at NASCAR races will have to go, also. Those little flags you affix to your vehicle to show devotion to your favorite NFL or college football team? Fuck ‘em! And take your damn Confederate flag with you too. Srry, all you Rebs—you lost. Get over it!
“If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I’m a BAD American…We want our country back!
Uhhh, what’s up with all the paranoia? You never lost your country in the first place—it’s still here, warts and all, and last time I checked, we’re still free. So put your red white and blue Depends undies back on and go to bed already…
“We need God back in our country!”
But I thought God was everywhere—ain't that what your Bible sez? Everywhere includes America, last I checked.
By the way, this line alone is all the proof you need that Carlin didn’t write this, considering his attitude about “these fucking church people!”
END OF SERMON
And lawdy Miss Clawdy, just today, another Worser American like me posted something on this very topic. Click here for yet another viewpoint. Oh, and to my good friends, I kindly launch this appeal: PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU! DON’T SEND ME THIS FUCKING THING ANYMORE!!!
Sometimes I wonder what I’m a-gonna do…
WHAT IN THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD OF SPORTS IS A-GOIN' ON HERE?
“Hate and fear in every face/I’m getting ready and I’ve packed my case/If you find something better, can you save my place?”—John Entwistle, The Who, “Had Enough”
Good gosh a-mighty, peoples, what’s up with all the recent histrionics at these town hall meetings over Obama’s health care reform proposals? If I didn’t know any better, we were still on the campaign trail leading up to election time. And whaddya know, Pennsylvania Sen. Arlen Specter was finally able to actually focus on something important for a change, as he somehow managed to pull himself away from his never-ending probe into how the New England Patriots cheated to beat his Philadelphia Iggles in the Super Bowl in 2005, but I digress. Honestly, what’s up with all the rancor at these town meetings? These people who are acting a fool remind me more of Jerry Springer panelists than concerned citizens. And as usual, they’re reacting to baseless misinformation from the likes of 2012 President-elect Sarah Palin and the usual Faux News Channel suspects in much the same they react to crap like “Dem ho-mo-seck-shuls are out to recruit your sons and daughters,” or “them Democrats are going to ban the Bible when they get into power”—as if they would even have the power to ban the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. Even my best friend of 31 years has uttered sky-is-falling mantra like “we’re one or two czars away from being the USS of A.” To all these people I say back up the fucking truck just a minute—and quit jumpin' around like a bunch of Kansas City faggots!
Palin calls the Democrats’ plan “downright evil” and says it would include “death panels” to decide who gets euthanized. I mean, honestly, do all you righties really want this moose-skinning twit leading your party? She’d have all the effectiveness of one of those GEICO cavemen. Thankfully, my man Leonard Pitts, Jr. is the voice of reason, as usual, in this vast abyss of paranoia: “It (the plan) would require your doctor to regularly consult with you on the need for a living will and advanced care directives, i.e., decide ahead of time if you’d want to be kept alive in a persistent vegetative state. The requirement may or may not be a good idea, but it’s hardly ‘downright evil’ and it bears no resemblance to the image Palin conjures: Granny forced to justify her continued existence before a panel of men in black hoods.” Actually, death panels sound like a great idea, but not for the elderly or terminally-ill—I suggest using them on misinformed idiots instead so we can do as DEVO advocates and “eliminate the ninnies and the twits.” Relax, folks, I’m just kidding! Believe it or not, my aforementioned best friend of 31 years thought I was dead-dog serious when I posted that bit on my Facebook page! I find this highly disturbing…
Leo P. Jr. went on to say, “But shouting down those who disagree with you is not (patriotic). Neither is threatening, shoving, hitting, painting swastikas or otherwise rendering reasoned debate impossible. That’s not love of country, it’s not dissent, it’s not even civilized. It’s boorish, oafish and crude, the rantings of people panicked beyond reason…By now, it has become reflex, this instinct of theirs to manipulate the debate and muddy the waters by stoking people’s primal fears, whether of gays, Muslims, Hispanics or now, health care reform. ‘I’m afraid of Obama!’ screams a woman. And doesn’t that just say it all? Doesn’t that speak volumes about the intellectual bankruptcy and decayed moral authority of the political right? With apologies to Franklin Roosevelt, the only thing they have to sell is fear itself.” Damn, I wish this dude would run for office! Anyway, why the fuck are all these people losing their minds at these town meeting things? These are merely Obama's proposals—nothing's been decided, voted-on, enacted or etched in stone yet, so freakin' calm down, will ya! And to his credit, Obama seems willing to make changes to his plan. But naturally, the wretched Right will accuse him of flip-flopping. And even I have questions about some of Obama’s ideas myself, but at least he has a fucking plan to fix our health care system—I sure didn’t hear of any ideas coming from Prez-dent Freedom Fries over the last eight years, not even stupid ones.
ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT
Another news media tactic I’ve grown weary of is the “Developing Story” gambit. CNN flashed this on their screen a couple weeks back, when all they were airing was an interview with John McCain where he—you better sit down for this one, kids—bashed President Obama’s health care reform proposals! What an earth-shattering revelation this was, right up there with how the sun rises in the east and Amy Winehouse gets arrested for something on a daily basis. Chant the mantra with me, friends: “We all know that crap is king…”
LES PAUL, 1915-2009
I'm a little late with this tribute here, but he’s well worthy of mention—Rock ‘N’ Roll would not be the same without this man. My man Ace Frehley (pictured here with Les) said it very well: “The music industry has lost a giant! I’m very saddened by the news of Les Paul’s passing. I was lucky enough to know Les as a friend, and admired him as a musician and an innovator…He forever changed the way we listen to music.” Apart from Leo Fender’s Stratocasters and basses, the Gibson Les Paul models (like the one in the pic) are quite possibly the coolest guitars on the planet. We can all hope to live as long as LP did—94 years!
“Crank out my Les Paul in your face…”—S. Hagar
SURE SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSEThere is a NEW Kiss album due out October 6th. I say again—a NEW Kiss album! Eleven new tracks—that’s one for each year since the last new Kiss album, and one for practically every greatest hits CD or box set Kiss has released since their most recent studio album, 1998’s half-baked Psycho Circus. Evidently Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley finally ran out of ways to repackage the past (and Gene was finally able to pull himself away from his “Family Jewels“ reality show long enough to make a record), and they finally decided to do what I’ve been advocating all along—put out something new with Tommy Thayer and Eric Singer in place of Ace and Peter. They’re giving the new album, entitled Sonic Boom, the Eagles/AC/DC treatment by selling it exclusively at Wal-Mart, which doesn’t exactly thrill me, but that seems to be the route everyone’s taking these days, and they’re only asking 12 bucks for the CD, which also includes yet another greatest hits disc (#12?!?) and a DVD featuring part of a recent Kiss concert. Hope the new stuff is worth waiting 11 years for.
ACE IS BACK AND HE TOLD YOU SO!
Feels great to finally be able to say this again—Ace Frehley has a new album coming out next month. Our good friend the Space Ace is finally releasing his long-awaited new CD, Anomaly (his first new record in 20 years) on September 15th. The album is all new material, apart from a cover of “Fox On The Run”—“Just an old Sweet song…” as Ray Charles once intoned. [Sorry, couldn‘t resist!] I sampled one track on Ace’s official webpage—it didn’t suck, and it’ll be great to hear what the planet Jendell’s favorite son has to say these days. And after all the crap he’s taken from Simmons all these years, wouldn’t it be sweet if Brother Frehley’s album outshines and/or outsells the new Kiss album? While I really do want them both to do well, it would still be poetic justice if Ace had the last laugh on Simmons and Stanley—Ack! Ack!
“HEADBANGER’S BALL” MEETS “HEE-HAW”!
I stumbled across a hidden gem at the library this week, a bluegrass band called Hayseed Dixie, who specializes in cover versions of Hard Rock/Heavy Metal classics like AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell”, Judas Priest’s “Breaking The Law” and Motorhead’s “Ace Of Spades”. I borrowed their Kiss tribute album, Kiss My Grass, and it’s a total hoot, especially “Detroit Rock City”—“Geet up/Everbody’s gon’ move their feet/Geet dayown/Everbody’s gon’ leave their seat”—sounds even better than the Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ 1994 version! "Lick It Up” and “Love Gun” are a stitch as well, and the Hayseeds even managed to plug in a decent solo during that lame middle break on “I Love It Loud”. Not sure I’d want to listen to this on a daily basis, but it’s fun to hear a slightly different (and rather warped) take on old favorites. I’m dying to hear their AC/DC tribute album now!
Listening to this thing made me realize that comedian Steve Martin was absolutely right when he said the banjo makes such a happy sound. Sure enough, it's pretty difficult to be bummed out while hearing banjo music, for some reason…
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #118
“Suite Judy Blue Eyes”—CROSBY, STILLS & NASH (1969) “Can I tell it like it is (Help me I’m suffering), Listen to me baby.” I swear, I always thought it sounded like Stephen Stills was singing “Listen to the butler”!
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRICS—WOODSTOCK EDITION
While reviewing my Woodstock DVD last week, I had the subtitles turned on, and evidently the person(s) who keyed in those subtitles didn’t bother consulting the lyrics to the songs the folks were singing. For instance, during The Who’s classic rendition of Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues”, Roger Daltrey couldn’t use the car because he “didn’t work a lick,” and Sha Na Na sang “you can eat a lot of chicken” At The Hop (Bop-Bop-Bop) instead of “Calypso with your chicken” (whatever that means). And the subtitles during Ten Years After’s “I’m Goin’ Home” were a total free-for-all when Alvin Lee free-lanced on old classics like “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” and “Baby, Please Don’t Go”. I feel so sorry for the deaf people who rely on closed captioning and end up viewing DVDs with such incorrect dialogue keyed in.
ROGER CLEMENS SYNDROME STRIKES AGAIN
Well, who among us didn’t see this coming? Brett Favre is un-retiring yet again to play for the Minnesota Vikings this season (and next, according to his new two-year contract). This diva in cleats never had any intention of retiring in the first place—he just wanted to conveniently skip training camp. Wow, what dedication, and what a team player this man is! Even Mary Richards would be pitching a fit about this at WJM. And as a result of Favre's arrival in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, Vikings season ticket sales spiked by 3,000 in one day. To those who bought those ticket packages, allow me to quote Ronnie James Dio: "You're all fools!!" Mark my words, Favre won’t get the Vikings to the promised land. Hell, they won’t even make the playoffs—he'll either be ineffective or re-injure his arm (which some doctors are evidently saying is quite at risk), and in my opinion, all his presence is going to do is mangle up what little team chemistry the Vikes have, just like it did with the Jets last year. Congratulations, Chicago and Green Bay—the NFC North division is yours for the taking now...
MIKE & MIKE & MICHAEL?
The guys on ESPN’s “Mike & Mike In The Morning” shattered their own world record for uttering the same name a thousand times in a 2-minute span the day after Michael Vick was signed by the Eagles last week. Between Vick and Favre, could ESPN be any more obsessed over headline-grabbing players? And they claim that all this overkill is just what us viewers and listeners are clamoring for. Riiiight. As for Vick’s return to the NFL, I have no problem with it. He’s done his time and paid his debt to society fair and square, so these PETA folks need to—ahem—call off their dogs in regards to Vick. In return, he’d better keep his nose cleaner than a neurosurgeon’s hands in the OR from here on out. And don’t expect Vick to be the star he aspired to be before—I think he was overrated as all get-out to begin with, and two years in the pokey couldn‘t have helped him.
By the by, I thought Jesse Jackson said that all those mean ol’ NFL owners were colluding to not sign MV this season. You got some ‘splainin’ ta do, Jesse! Is there anyway we can jettison this boob to Dantooine so the Death Star can blow his phony ass to smithereens?
BORAS THE SPIDER?
Could someone please tell me how I can get this Scott Boras super-agent character to get someone to pay me zillions of dollars in advance? That’s what he did for this Stephen Strasburg pheenom kid who signed to pitch for the Washington (G)Nats for $15 million, having never set foot on a Major League diamond yet. Is it any wonder the game of baseball is so screwed up with salaries like this?
WALK A MILEY IN HER SHOES?
Much hoop-de-doo last week about Miley Cyrus doing a little stripper pole-dancing on some TV show, causing concerned parents to once again get their collective panties in a twist. True to form, the Cyrus camp claimed it was innocent, just like the photo session last year where Ms. Montana dared to bare her back. Innocent, my colon—these people know exactly what they’re doing! They’re pushing people’s buttons to see just how far they can milk this gravy train—anything to keep her name in the paper and postpone her inevitable fade into obscurity. But, just like Tiffany and Debbie Gibson before her, Miley will be a has-been by the time she’s 19, and Billy Ray won’t have his meal ticket anymore. Ms. Cyrus, yer 15 minutes were up a year ago!
"By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong…”—J. Mitchell, 1970
Well, kids, we’ve reached the 40th anniversary of the iconic Woodstock Music And Art Fair, which took place over the long weekend of August 15-18, 1969. I was only five years old when Woodstock happened, and I was oblivious to it, apart from the hit song “Woodstock”, which I interpreted something like this:
"We’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden…”—J. Mitchell, 1970
"Madison Square Garden?”—B. Holland, 1971
It wasn’t until my late teens when I saw the documentary film back in the days when the old KY-102 used to sponsor Midnight movies at local theaters around K.C. I remember watching it with my good friend Tom, who actually dozed off during Ten Years After’s marathon “I’m Goin’ Home”! I was fascinated by the whole thing, though, and have absorbed as much as I could about the festival over the years.
This behemoth grows more and more mythical as time goes on, and those who claim to have attended Woodstock probably outnumber those who were actually there by about tenfold. Furthermore, many of those “attendees” make the festival out to be some sort of idyllic paradise, which it clearly wasn’t. I’m not trying to put it down here—Woodstock is unquestionably a landmark event in Rock (and pop culture) history—but I think its Utopian qualities have been grossly over-hyped over the years. To wit, things weren’t nearly as groovy as the aging hippies want you to believe it was. The people who put on the concert had to be the luckiest SOBs in the world, too. They initially lost a shitload of money in their little venture, but managed to recoup quite bit of it with the subsequent documentary film and album(s) released later on. And as well-intentioned as these guys were, they were also very naïve about what they were getting into, and their short-sightedness and poor planning left them flirting with disaster at nearly every turn—they were damn fortunate that Woodstock didn’t turn into a major tragedy instead.
The Woodstock Music and Art Festival started off innocently enough as a means to build a recording studio in the spring of ‘69, by some music business dudes in the town of Woodstock, NY, and before they knew it, the concert had taken on a life of its own. They intended to put on a Rock show and art fair in Woodstock, proper, but met with resistance from the townsfolk who (rightfully so, based on results) feared a mass invasion of hippies into their quiet little hamlet. Several other sites were considered, including nearby Wallkill and Saugerties, before one Max Yasgur offered up his dairy farm near the town of Bethel (about 120 miles WNW of New York City), which already had a natural bowl suitable for an amphitheater-type setting, for $50,000. By the time they secured the site and proper permits and such, it was a race against time to put up the stage, ticket booths, concession stands, fencing, etc., and they lost the race. They also didn’t take into account that they would need decent access for everyone (performers included) into and out of Yasgur’s farm. What roads they had weren’t adequate enough for the 50,000 or so they were expecting, let alone the half-million people who did descend upon poor Bethel and vicinity, thus creating the world’s largest traffic clusterfuck in the history of mankind. Most people just drove as far as they could and left their cars on or alongside the road and hoofed it the rest of the way to the festival, and most of the musical acts who were slated to play early on in the show struggled to get there. The almighty helicopter eventually became the sole mode of transportation for the performers.
Chaos reigned almost from the get-go, as the ticket booths weren’t finished in time for the show, and it wasn’t long before folks figured out how to crash the party and get in without paying the whopping $8 ticket price. Btw, eight bucks?!? That won’t even buy you a freakin’ beer at a concert today, but I digress. Another thing the promoters didn’t account for was providing adequate food, drinking water and sanitation for everyone, and it wasn’t long before the infrastructure was totally overwhelmed—squalor soon took over around the grossly (pun partially intended) overmatched Port-A-Potty area.
And then there was the little matter of a totally inadequate (and overworked) sound system, which caused almost as many delays as the monsoon rains that hit on the second day. People at the top of the hill could hardly hear what was going on way down on the stage, and considering the limitations of 1969 technology, it probably didn’t sound all that great even down front. There was also little or no lighting in the areas surrounding the venue, so I would imagine it was quite an adventure being in or near those woods after dark without a flashlight. You also had to feel sorry for the locals in the surrounding area who suddenly found themselves dealing with thousands of strangers knocking on their doors asking for food and/or water or a place to crash for the night. Hell, because of the traffic situation, these poor townspeople were basically trapped in their own homes for the weekend, and couldn’t even get out to pick up the bare necessities. We’re talking FUBAR City, boys and girls!
One area where they were thinking ahead, however, was the “Freak-Out Tents” where those who got a hold of the “bad brown acid”, et al, were treated and talked down out of their bad trips. The tents were manned by members of the “Hog Farm” commune, whose leader was counterculture hero Wavy Gravy, whom I’ve always viewed merely as a tree-hugging hippie clown, but apparently he and his people actually did do some good throughout the festival. Early on in the proceedings, Indian guru Swami Satchadinanda spoke to the new “Woodstock Nation” and gave an invocation. One Woodstock attendee was quoted as saying Mr. Swami “was extolling the concert as a holy gathering in his melodious Indian accent. I listened to him and thought it was all bullshit. This was going to be a huge drug party, pure and simple, and to masquerade it as a spiritual gathering seemed phony to me.” While there was indeed a palpable spirit of brotherhood and sisterhood unprecedented for such a large mass of humanity, it appears this guy was pretty accurate with his assessment of the situation. From the sounds of it, the drugs that were so readily available to everyone there somehow managed to mellow the crowd out just enough to discourage violence and keep them from killing each other when the food and water ran short. We all saw what happens when people are deprived of food and water after x-amount of time in the wake of Hurricane Katrina four years ago, and things could’ve turned ugly real quick at Woodstock if not for the communal nature of the event. Speaking of hurricanes, while all this was going on, Camille was busy mangling New Orleans and vicinity almost as badly as Katrina did.
Things at Woodstock could’ve also turned even uglier thanks to Mother Nature, which of course, the promoters had no control over. One fool in the Woodstock film tried to claim the storms were a government conspiracy by which they seeded the clouds just so it would rain like hell on the concert—that’s right, the U.S. Government has time to worry about a Rock concert. Then again, we’re talking about the Nixon administration, so who knows? Anyway, the torrential rains turned the festival site into a major quagmire (and we ain’t talking Glen Quagmire), which provided some attendees with a natural Slip-‘N’-Slide to play around on, but had those precarious sound/spotlight towers or if the rinky-dink stage been toppled by high winds, there could’ve been major carnage. Also because of the rain, some performers received minor shocks while grabbing microphones, playing guitar, etc.—someone could easily have been electrocuted on the stage. Who knows now many people might’ve been killed instantly, or how numerous the casualties might’ve been because emergency personnel would’ve had great difficulty reaching the site. Like I say, the guys who put Woodstock together were some lucky som-bitches in that there weren’t more deaths than just the handful that were reported at the festival. For another dissenting opinion about how beautiful Woodstock was, I direct you to this fine Newsweek article.
In an effort to impress the locals while pitching their festival idea to them, the promoters tried to make it sound like Woodstock was going to be an art fair with some music on the side, but they should’ve known better that the music would be the primary focus—even though it was rather unfocused at times. The roster of acts that played Woodstock was a strange mish-mash of big-time contemporaries like The Who, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Jimi Hendrix, etc., along with up-and-coming acts like Santana, Joe Cocker, Ten Years After, The Band and Richie Havens thrown together with several nobodies like Quill, Bert Sommer, Sweetwater and the Keef Hartley Band. In the case of Quill and Sommer, the only reason they were on the bill at all is because they were managed by two of the guys in charge of the festival itself. And what on earth was Sha Na Na doing there?!? They were about as out-of-place at Woodstock as a “Family Guy” rerun would be ABC Family Channel (right after “The 700 Club”). If anything, the talent lineup for Woodstock was a bit too ambitious, thus three days of peace and love morphed into damn near four days, thanks in large part to weather-related and technical delays, as well as the difficulties many acts had in reaching Yasgur’s Farm in the first place.
With that mish-mash of talent came a mixed bag in terms of the quality therein, and for all the truly great performances at Woodstock, there were just as many sucky ones. While some acts like Santana, Cocker, Sly & The Family Stone and Ten Years After played breakthrough and/or career-defining sets, others like Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane and Jimi Hendrix (except for his blistering version of “The Star-Spangled Banner”) turned in either mediocre or poor sets. Joplin was drunk and high out of her gourd, by most accounts, and the Dead was, well, the Dead, but there was at least some excuse for the other two. Airplane had been waiting up all night to headline after The Who, but didn’t hit the stage until around 7:00AM on Sunday, and at least managed to play a lukewarm set—not bad, under the circumstances. Grace Slick could barely keep her eyes open while watching bandmate Jorma Kaukonen sing “Uncle Sam Blues”. Kaukonen himself said he was amazed they were able to play at all. Similarly, Hendrix didn’t hit the stage until it was daylight again on Monday morning (after Sha Na Na, no less) when 90% of the crowd had left and those who remained were running on (dope?) fumes. Jimi looked really tired and bored himself—a mere shadow of that frenetic dude who set his guitar on fire at Monterrey just two years earlier. Sadly, this marked the beginning of the end for Jimi Hendrix. Drugs are bad, mmm-kay?
While I freely admit I’m totally biased because of my allegiance to this band, I’ll still declare that The Who was clearly the standout act at Woodstock. By WHO standards, Woodstock was only a so-so gig for them, to the point where Pete Townshend has blocked attempts for years to have their entire Woodstock set released on CD—only “Pinball Wizard”, “Sparks”, “See Me, Feel Me” and “Summertime Blues” are available on CD or DVD thus far. But if you remember the old axiom: The Who on a bad night was still far superior to most other bands on their BEST nights, and the ‘Orrible ‘Oo blew everyone else on Yasgur’s Farm away with their performance of the brand new Tommy album, almost in its entirety. By the way, if you look real closely in the film, you can see Roger Daltrey’s appendix scar! The Who’s set actually could’ve been one for the ages had they played at their originally scheduled time before their drinks got spiked with acid and if they’d been paid on time. As the story goes, the $12,500 fee for headlining artists was paid in cashier’s checks, locked away in a local bank. The Who (along with The Grateful Dead) insisted on being paid up-front (probably wisely) before they went on stage, so the promoters had to wake up the poor bank president (I keep picturing Homer Bedlow!) in the middle of the night to get him to open the vault and get the cash to pay the bands before they went on—bet he was just thrilled beyond repair with that!
The Who themselves were not happy campers anyway at Woodstock, as Townshend attests: “All those hippies wandering about thinking the world was going to be different from that day…As a cynical English arsehole I walked through it all and felt like spitting on the lot of them and shaking them and trying to make them realize that nothing had changed and nothing was going to change. Not only that, what they thought was an alternative society was basically a field full of six-foot deep mud and laced with LSD. If that was the world they wanted to live in, then fuck the lot of them.” Daltrey added, “That was the worst gig we ever played…We waited in a field of mud for 14 hours, sitting on some boards, doing nothing—and doing nothing is the most exhausting thing in the world.” And when asked if he would be interested in playing at any sort of Woodstock anniversary concert during the ‘80s, the late John Entwistle said something to the effect of “They (the promoters) can go get stuffed!”
Apart from The Who, the truly standout performances were this new guy Santana’s “Soul Sacrifice”, Joe Cocker’s epileptic fit during “With A Little Help From My Friends”, Sly & The Family Stone’s roof-raising (if they had one) “I Want To Take You Higher”, Richie Havens’ “Freedom” (which he made up as he went along!) and Ten Years After’s ten-minute “I’m Goin’ Home”. Ironically, TYA’s future 1971 hit single, “I’d Love To Change The World” would’ve slotted in perfectly at Woodstock, given the mission statement and general vibes of the event and all. From what I’ve read, The Band and C.C.R. also turned in fine sets at Woodstock, but I’ve not heard or seen enough of either of them to comment. Other unforgettable moments include Arlo Guthrie’s pronouncement, “The New York State Thruway’s closed!”, and what was probably the world’s first obscene public spelling lesson, courtesy of Country Joe McDonald: “Gimme an ‘F’!...Gimme a ‘U’!...Gimme a ‘C’!...Gimme a ‘K’!...What’s that spell?!?...What’s that spell?!?...” This undoubtedly had Mister Rogers, Captain Kangaroo and school teachers throughout the land reaching for their smelling salts when they heard about it…
It’s also interesting to factor in the major acts who didn’t play at Woodstock. There’s no way the promoters could’ve afforded The Beatles, and I doubt if they would’ve appeared anyway, given the dissention within the Fab Four at that point. Just as well—John woulda brought Yoko, anyway. The Rolling Stones were also out of the promoters’ price range, plus they had concerns that Mick Jagger might incite a riot with their more radical new material like “Street Fighting Man” and “Sympathy For The Devil”. Violence at a Stones concert? Couldn’t possibly happ—oh, wait a minute… Bob Dylan was planning to be there—he actually lived in the town of Woodstock—but his son (Jakob, I’m assuming) took ill that weekend, so he dropped out. The Moody Blues were offered a spot on the bill, but had just returned to England after a U.S. tour, and it would’ve cost them a fair chunk of change to fly back to the States just for one show, so they figured it wasn’t worth it. The promoters tried to get The Doors, too, but Jim Morrison was paranoid that someone would assassinate him on-stage, plus he was already in deep doo-doo for flashing his talleywhacker on-stage in Miami earlier in the year. Iron Butterfly was originally on the bill, but kept making too many demands about transportation and such that they were unceremoniously dropped. Upstarts Led Zeppelin might’ve gotten an even bigger bounce to begin their career in the States by playing Woodstock, but they passed on the gig too, for whatever reason. Deep Purple hadn’t quite hit their stride yet in ‘69 (singer Ian Gillan had yet to join them) and Cream might’ve been an interesting Woodstock act, too, but they’d already broken up by then. And putting aside my personal bias again, wouldn't Black Oak Arkansas have been a juicy addition to the Woodstock lineup, what with Jim Dandy's psuedo-religious Utopian between-song rants? I have no doubt the mud-pie crowd would've ate those guys up, had they come along a couple years sooner...
And then there was the infamous (Sh)Abbie Hoffman incident at Woodstock. This clown was nothing but a counterculture trouble-maker and self-promoter who I frankly think exploited a lot of drugged-out kids for his own cause (as did “Dr.” Timothy Leary). He thought he’d just stroll up on stage right smack dab in the middle of The Who’s set and say a few words on behalf of his buddy John Sinclair, who was in prison for smoking a joint. Real brilliant idea, Abigail! To paraphrase the late Jim Croce, you don’t tug on Superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off the ol’ Lone Ranger, and you don’t interrupt ANY band while they’re on-stage, let alone THE WHO! Hoffman barely got one sentence out before Chairman Townshend sidled over and exclaimed, “(Get the) Fuck off my fucking stage!” and bopped Abbie with his guitar and sent him stumbling off the stage. This exchange can be clearly heard on The Who’s Maximum R&B box set, but sadly, the camera guys whiffed and it wasn’t caught on film for posterity—too bad camera phones didn’t exist back then! Townshend then proceeded to declare, “Next person who tries that gets killed—I mean it!” Pete later admitted he acted badly by giving Hoffman the heave-ho, saying, “What Abbie was saying was politically correct in many ways…The people at Woodstock really were a bunch of hypocrites claiming a cosmic revolution simply because they took over a field, broke down some fences, imbibed bad acid and then tried to run out without paying the band. All while John Sinclair rotted in jail over a trumped-up drug bust.” Personally, I still think Hoffman was a fool, and people like him and Leary and their ilk were total losers. I say again, drugs are bad—mmm-kay? Oh, by the way, Timothy Leary’s dead, ya know…
As I re-watched my Woodstock DVD again last night and looked at all those young people in the crowd and the performers on stage, it made me kinda sad to think that everyone there is now exactly 40 years older—assuming they didn’t O.D.—and even worse, many of them are dead now. Those who endured the entire festival and stayed until the bitter end deserved some sort of medal of honor (or a Section 8, I’m not sure which) and I admire their stamina. Two days, I could probably have withstood, but after that, I’d have been miserable.
I’m glad to see that no one is trying to stage a 40th anniversary Woodstock in light of the debacles that were Woodstock ’94 (which featured more mudslinging than the GOP and Democratic conventions combined) and Woodstock ’99 (which featured various acts of vandalism, pillaging, arson and rape). So much for all that “peace and love” crap, huh? Nothing wrong with celebrating the anniversary of the original festival, but neither of those concerts came anywhere close to recapturing the spirit or vibes of 1969, and it’s useless to try, anyway—you can’t catch lightning in a bottle. Personally, I think all those hippies in 1969 were pretty naïve to think they were going to change the world just because 400,000 people got along swimmingly at a Rock concert over one weekend. As we all know, their bubble would burst three months later at Altamont, but Woodstock is still a fascinating phenomenon, warts and all.
And its legacy lives on in this little guy...
My Top 10 Woodstock moments:
1) The Who’s set
2) “Gimme an F! Gimme a U!…What’s that spell? What’s that spell?”--Country Joe McDonald
3) The Abbie Hoffman incident
4) “The Star-Spangled Banner”--Jimi Hendrix
5) “The New York State Thruway’s closed!”--Arlo Guthrie
6) “I don't know how to speak to 20 people at one time, let alone a crowd like this…and I God Bless you for it!”—Max Yasgur
7) “What we have in mind is breakfast in bed for 400,000!”—Wavy Gravy
8) Joe Cocker’s epileptic fit during “With A Little Help From My Friends”
9) "This is the second time we've ever played in front of people, man. We're scared shitless!”—Stephen Stills
10) “Let Me Take You Higher”—Sly & The Family Stone
Just coincidence of course, but these two “Giant A” Anheuser-Busch signs do look mighty similar. The one in color is located alongside U.S. 40/I-64 west of downtown St. Louis near St. Louis University.
The other once sat atop the main scoreboard at old Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. The presence of Kansas City and Brooklyn in the out-of-town scores tells us this pic (click to enlarge) had to have been taken between 1955 and 1957, the only three years when both cities were in the Major Leagues simultaneously. These Buds are for you!
