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A while back, I was at Barnes & Noble in search of a self-help book my therapist had recommended to me, which B&N didn’t have in stock. But while in the store, I meandered over to the Music section and found Dee Snider’s autobiography, Shut Up And Give Me The Mic-A Twisted Memoir. I’ve long been a fan of Twisted Sister, and I thought ‘what the hey?’, so I dropped and gave Barnes & Noble 20 and snagged the book. Little did I realize it was not only a fun read about an ‘80s icon, but a bit of a self-help book in its own right. SPOILER ALERT: I quote quite a bit from the book in blue, so if you’re planning to read it yourself, beware…
On Dee’s strained and turbulent relationship with his father:
“My father fought my pursuing a career in music more than ever. After what he had witnessed [a disastrous local band gig when Snider was a teen], why wouldn’t he? He couldn’t have been more disappointed in the path his oldest son was taking. Once I had given up playing baseball completely [his father’s chosen profession for him] and started growing my hair out (after an ugly forced-haircut incident in the beginning of tenth grade), my dad pretty much gave up on me. He barely talked to or even acknowledged me for years…In fairness to my dad, he was raised during the Great Depression, a time when dreams were shattered, not achieved. He was raised to believe that the only way to get anything in life is by fighting and clawing every inch of the way, and that dreams didn’t come true.” This was beginning to sound eerily familiar to me…
Dee (then known as Danny, his given name) and his sister gave a living room “performance” of the Human Beinz’ “Nobody But Me” for their parents that they practiced really hard for, and his old man immediately mocked it: “What kind of stupid song is that?” He went on to tell his friends about his “idiot son” and his asinine “No-No” song. Dee continues: “Years later, my dad tried to take credit for my success, suggesting that his being so hard on me as a boy is what drove me on. ‘It’s like that Johnny Cash song “A Boy Named Sue,”' he proclaimed. 'If I wasn’t so tough on you, you never would have made it.’ To this stupidity I responded, ‘How do you know I wouldn’t be happier as a well-adjusted accountant?’ Dick.” Ironically, my old man’s chosen profession for me was accounting. Dee’s old man and my old man should’ve gotten together and compared notes.
On alcohol and drug use:
“Why don’t I party? Ah, the million-dollar question. Well, I don’t drink because I had a bad experience when I was fourteen. I got so smashed I couldn’t get off the floor and swore that if the good Lord above me ever let me walk again, I would never touch demon alcohol…As for drugs, I’ve always known I have an obsessive personality, and if I started doing drugs, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Besides, I never really had a problem ‘letting myself go’…Am I anti-drugs-and-alcohol? Not really. I’m just anti-asshole. If you can party and remain who you are or become a looser, more fun version of who you are, God bless you. But if when you party, you become some shape-shifting obnoxious asshole who doesn’t know when to quit…you, I can live without.”
“The unfortunate thing is, society has created an environment where people don’t feel comfortable letting themselves go unless they’re high or have a few in them. How many times have you been somewhere and asked someone (or been asked by someone) to do something such as dance or sing and heard (or said), ‘Just let me have a couple of drinks.’ Why? Because society dictates that it’s okay to get crazy, silly or act foolish if you’re high. It gives you an excuse to embarrass yourself. ‘Oh, I was soooo wasted.’ If I climb on top of a bar, pull out my dick, and piss on the floor and I’m drunk, they put me in a cab and send me home. If I do the same thing and I’m sober, they say I’m crazy and I get my ass kicked, arrested, or both. That double standard creates a dangerous environment…If you want people to stop getting drunk and high (especially kids), you need to change the way society perceives it. Stop making it an acceptable excuse for poor behavior. Stop portraying it as cool. And stop viewing outgoing behavior when you’re not high as weird. Then you’ll see some changes.” I like Snider’s attitude, here. I drink (sometimes to excess, yes), but I don’t think I become an asshole when I do—I’m more of a funny drunk, if anything.
On his positive approach to life:
“…I came up with a new, personal motivation concept: PMA, or positive mental attitude. I kid you not. I believed that if I thought and acted positively, positive things would happen for me, and my positive thoughts would become reality. I still do. I now know that’s just another form of self-fulfilling prophecy, but when I was 16, it was more my becoming aware of the power of positive thinking. From that time on (and to this day), when people asked me how I was doing, I didn’t say ‘Okay’ or even ‘Good,’ I said, “Excellent!” Even when I wasn’t, this mind-set has taken me everywhere, and when things were bad, it kept me from wallowing in self-pity and negativity and focused on the promise of what lay ahead. Besides, it beat the hell out of such mantras as ‘It’s just one of those days’, ‘it’s just my luck,’ and ‘Murphy’s Law’. To hear kids reinforcing these negative thoughts in their young, fertile mind is simply maddening to me. Thinking like that sets you up for a lifetime of accepting failure. Screw that!” PMA became a great source of amusement to his father, who was quick to throw it back in his face when something went awry. My old man would’ve done the same with me. In fact, he often did—anytime I expressed confidence or excitement about something, he’d find a way to piss all over my enthusiasm. Dick. (Hey, Dee started it!)
On his state of mind following the infamous 1985 PMRC hearings on Capitol Hill:
“I was born in the ‘50s and grew up in the ‘60s and ‘70s. I was raised believing Washington, DC was sort of like Oz; a beautiful, special place where people watched out for our better interest and did great things. Sure I had lived through Watergate and the election of a B-movie actor and Joe McCarthy/House Un-American Activities Committee rat to the highest office in the country, but I still hung on to a childish belief that some good people were still working for us. Not anymore. Sitting face-to-face with these personal-agenda-driven opportunists, they beat the last bit of hope out of me.” I find myself feeling the same damn way as I watch this current joke of an election campaign unfold…
Snider’s perspectives on other bands and musicians:
Dee was heavily influence by the almost daily TV appearances by the Monkees and especially Paul Revere & The Raiders. “I was drawn to the subtle danger of singer Mark Lindsay from Paul Revere & The Raiders (whose) songs were innuendo-filled. Hits such as ‘Hungry’ and ‘Kicks’ were barely veiled songs about sex, drugs and alcohol. Mark Lindsay’s slight rasp along with the generally ‘heavier’ tone of the band’s music are recognized precursors to what would become ‘hard-rock’…and eventually ‘heavy metal’. I am an original headbanger and I credit Paul Revere & The Raiders for starting me down that path. Thank you, boys!” Dee is slightly incorrect—“Kicks” was actually anti-drugs and alcohol—but it’s nice to see I’m not the only one who feels this way about this vastly underrated and underappreciated band. The Raiders were my first taste of real Rock ‘N’ Roll when I was three years old, and 45 years later, they still rock my world. Stomp and shout and work it on out…
“When it came to Rock bands and Rock music, no band was bigger than Led Zeppelin. [Cover] Bands went to incredible lengths to play the most accurate renditions of Zeppelin songs, and the audiences demanded it. Playing Led Zeppelin poorly was sacrilege. The funny thing is, I remember seeing Led Zep on their 1977 tour and being stunned by how “inaccurate” they were live. Sorry, boys, but if a bar band played your music the way you did that night, they would have been tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail. Seriously.” Amen to that, Brother Dee! Now I’m not suggesting (and I don’t think Snider is either) that a band should play every song in their repertoire in concert note-for-note exactly like their records every night (like Rush used to do, for instance), but Zeppelin was one of the worst offenders in Dee’s scenario and they were a very iffy live act, at best. Some nights they were fine, I suppose, but most of the live recordings I’ve ever heard of them aren’t very good. Too many long jams and self-indulgent tangents—damn near half an hour just to play “Dazed And Confused”? Seriously? The Who were known to indulge themselves now and then too (especially during the post-Tommy era), but at least they kept it lively and didn’t lull the audience to sleep like Zeppelin did. Robert Plant would also just phone in some lyrical passages and Jimmy Page’s guitar was often woefully out of tune.
On meeting Billy Joel and Ritchie Blackmore after a gig in the late ‘70s: “Meeting these two hugely successful musicians was eye-opening for me. Where Blackmore was weird, standoffish and unlikeable, Joel was the exact opposite. Welcoming and self-deprecating, with virtually no ego, despite his multiplatinum status, Billy did everything to show how gracious and down-to-earth a star can be. When people spoke of Ritchie, it was with disgust and loathing. With Billy, it was only with praise and admiration. After the party that night I reran the experiences I had had with both Rock luminaries. I started to wonder how I came off to people and what they said about me after I left. In my heart I knew the answer: I was way more of a Ritchie Blackmore than a Billy Joel. I vowed to make a change, promising myself I would be more like Billy. I kept that promise…but it did take me a few years to put it into full effect.” This is ironic because back in the late ‘70s, I always thought Mr. Piano Man came off as a bit aloof and his remarks in Circus magazine about Kiss (“I won’t associate myself with acts like that”) didn’t exactly endear me to him when I was 14, but over time, Billy has proven to be quite affable and not a bad dude. He even played piano on Twisted Sister’s “Be Chrool to Your Scuel” on 1985’s ill-fated Come Out And Play album. Ritchie Blackmore, on the other hand, has always come off as a moody, weird duck to me. Helluva guitar player, but all the personality of a ball peen hammer.
“While my onstage rants are pretty much spontaneous, if I hit on something that works universally, I won’t hesistate to reuse it or modify it to fit the current situation. That said, I can’t understand how bands can use the same stage patter, verbatim, every night. How can it always be appropriate or not get old?...Triumph used to turn their massive light show on the upper balcony of the audience—every night, at the same moment in the show—and say “How y’all doin’ up there!” It would always get a huge response. Except for the night the show hadn’t sold well and the balcony was closed off and empty. The janitor up there by himself, sweeping the balcony, was doing fine…Paul Stanley from Kiss is renowned for exactly replicating his onstage speeches, every show, on every tour—even after they’ve been captured on live albums…You gotta keep it fresh, kids, and react to your surroundings—not every venue and audience is the same.” I totally agree with Dee on this one. I’ll never forget the time I busted Stanley at a Kiss show in Topeka on the 1987 Crazy Nights tour when he went into his standard “I went to the doctor today to get myself checked out” bit, wherein he gets seduced by (or seduces, I forget which) a sexy nurse who gets to play with his “Love Gun”. There was just one little problem on that particular November night in Topeka—it was Thanksgiving! Except for ERs, there ain’t no doctors examining nobody nowhere on Turkey Day. Nice try, Starchild…
I love this story about a phone call Dee received one day after arriving in England for a tour: “Dee Snider? ThesesBrianJohnsonfrumAhseeDahysee. We cannahafya settinya ‘otelrum onaMundeh-nightenNewcaseh. Ahmacomin’ tuh-gitya, me boy.” In plain English, that’s “Dee Snider? This is Brian Johnson from AC/DC. We can’t have you sitting in your hotel room on a Monday night in Newcastle. I’m coming to get you, my boy.” I also remember once during an interview when it sounded like Johnson said ‘piss’ when he actually said ‘pace’. As Robin Williams once said of race driver/commentator Jackie Stewart: “…a man who speaks English, but still needs a translator.”
Loved this story too, about when Snider appeared at the Grammy Awards in 1985. Also there was Prince, who was escorted to the stage by a phalanx of security people. Dee expounds: “During the maybe 150-yard walk, the lead bodyguard was barking out orders to the celebrities and crew backstage. ‘Don’t look at him! Avert your eyes! Look away! Stop staring!’ As Prince and The Revolution passed a bunch of us (I assume they passed, none of them could be seen behind their security), the lead asshole tells Stevie Wonder to LOOK AWAY! Are you freakin’ kidding me?!” Now, I don’t know how true the Stevie Wonder part is, but if this scene really happened, it tells me all I need to know about what a pretentious and arrogant little fuck that Prince truly is if he just can’t bear for people who admire him to even gaze upon his fey little ass. Get off your high-horse, Prince-y, baby—your shit stinks just like everyone else, you overrated little troll.
Dee re-tells the story featured on the Twisted Sister VH-1 Classic “Behind The Music” segment about their show in England that devolved into an epic free-for-all with the crowd pelting the stage with anything they could fling at it, including human excrement. “Someone-a threw-a shite!” exclaimed a bewildered Scottish roadie called Big John. Dee continues: “Wow. Somebody had thrown human shit at the stage. My mind was blown. So many questions about this needed to be answered. How much do you need to hate a band to throw human shit? Whose shit was it? The thrower’s or somebody else’s? Where did they get the shit? From a Porta Potti (sic), or did they just have it on standby in case they hated a band enough to throw it? Or were they so angered by us, they dropped trou, laid a fresh one, then hurled it? Which brings me back to my first question: how much do you need to hate a band to throw human shit? It’s a conundrum.” Never let it be said that Dee Snider and Twisted Sister don’t know shit(e)…
As with yours truly, once you land on Dee Snider’s official Shit(e) List, it’s mighty difficult to extricate yourself from it. He despised Twisted Sister’s third drummer so much that he wouldn’t even mention him by name in the book, only referring to him as “Drummer #3” (eventual permanent skinsman Tony “A.J.” Pero was Drummer #6, btw). And don’t even get Dee started on a certain Swiss metal band whose name started with a K (whom Snider only refers to as “Krapus” in the book) after that band reneged on paying his wife Suzette $1,500 for designing and creating their stage outfits for a 1983 tour. I won’t mention them by name either, but It doesn’t take Mr. Spock to determine that this would be the same Scorpions wanna-be band who scored a hit with “Screaming In The Night” and followed that with a bunch of lame and unnecessary cover songs like “School’s Out” and “Ballroom Blitz”. If Dee’s story is indeed true, then Krapus really are a bunch of Krap-weasels. No wonder Beavis & Butt-head didn’t like them…
“People often ask me what I think of current trends in music, and for the past 25 years or so I’ve said the same thing: ‘Not enough middle finger.’ Since my heyday, I’ve liked a lot of contemporary heavy music. I even liked Grunge—the Hair-Metal slayer—but in the 1990s and 2000s—and even still today—there’s just too much whining and complaining about how life sucks, and not enough middle finger. Back in the day, we didn’t complain about stuff, we railed against it, and if we couldn’t do anything about it, we shook our ‘junk’ in its face. That was the youth attitude of the time, and ‘80s metal bands exemplified that fuck-you state of mind. We weren’t gonna take it!” Ain’t that the truth? All that “life sucks” attitude is why I despise so much of the music from the ‘90s and the ’00s (uh-ohs is more like it). Oh, and another thing: FUCK Kurt Cobain! There, I said it…
My own random thoughts on Dee Snider/Twisted Sister:
It’s easy to forget that Dee Snider was NOT an original member of Twisted Sister, even though he’s the person who is the most associated with the band. TS was actually formed by lead guitarist Jay Jay French almost four years before Snider joined in 1976, and the group went through numerous personnel changes (three singers, four guitar players, two bass players and seven drummers, according to French) and musical genres (including Top 40 covers and even disco, believe it or not) before evolving into the Heavy Metal outfit we know and love (well some of us do, anyhow). French (who was often confused for Ace Frehley of Kiss without makeup) is the only Sister to make the entire 40-some-odd-year Twisted odyssey, but it seems to me that this was a truly odd band dynamic to have another guy come along in midstream and essentially take over the band, run it like it was his own baby and become the focal point of it. Snider wrote all the songs himself, made all the important creative decisions and did all the “heavy lifting”, you might say, while Suzette designed all the band’s stage costumes and basically created the pseudo-transgendered Twisted Sister motif—unwittingly inventing “Hair Metal” in the process!
Meanwhile, Jay Jay tended to the business end (until the band had proper management and got a record deal, anyway) and the other members of Twisted Sister—co-lead guitarist Eddie “Fingers” Ojeda, drummer A.J. Pero and bassist Mark “The Animal” Mendoza (himself a close friend of Snider’s and best man at his wedding to Suzette) seemingly more or less just tagged along for the ride. Dee accurately points out in the book that while French and Ojeda were certainly capable musicians and definitely had the Hair Metal “look”, neither of them were terribly flashy guitarists in the Eddie Van Halen/Randy Rhoads “Guitar God” vein, thus TS couldn’t really compete with the likes of Judas Priest or Iron Maiden for long. Snider himself didn’t really develop any sort of front man sex appeal to run with contemporaries like of Whitesnake’s David Coverdale, Vince Neil of Motley Crue or even Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. Anyway, Snider’s omnipotence created some very understandable rifts and dissention within the group, so Twisted Sister’s rapid descent after peaking in 1984 with the mammoth Stay Hungry album was not only predictable, but inevitable.
Even though Dee Snider always came off a braggart and boastful in a Nugent-esque sort of way, I’ve always liked him for some reason. Off stage, he seems very down-to-earth and even a bit humble at times, and he was never quite as crazy as his on-stage persona would dictate. One thing I did always take issue with Snider on was how he would on occasion call out anyone in the crowd who wasn’t getting into the performance to his satisfaction. This became a bit of a trademark for Snider over the years, and I remember the time I saw Twisted Sister open for Iron Maiden in 1984, he targeted some guy in a white shirt in the back row of the lower deck on the side of Kemper Arena and berated him for the longest time all because he just stood there stoically with his arms folded. Dude, whatever—it’s not your place to tell someone how to party, so why waste the rest of the audience’s time badgering one indifferent person? The guy was probably there to see Maiden anyhow and I thought this was very uncool—what’s up with the schoolyard bully routine? Dee was also known to charge into the crowd and go after any knuckleheads who might have crossed him during the show—with mixed results. But, by his own admission, Snider was such an arrogant fuck at that point, there was no stopping him.
I was a bit disappointed that Snider made no mention of the “Behind The Music” segment in his book, especially something Mark “The Animal” Mendoza said about Snider after the demise of the band in which he didn’t care if Dee was alive or dead at that point, and basically “Good riddance to an asshole.” This coming from a guy who was once Dee’s best friend—pretty strong words. Obviously, they’ve patched up their differences since then, and TS reformed in 2002 and have toured off and on since then.
I find it truly amazing how, given the lifestyle he chose to pursue, Dee Snider has been married to the same woman for 30 years now, and they’ve raised four kids (successfully, evidently) as well. In a truly unorthodox love story, Snider met his future (underage at the time) bride Suzette at a band gig when she was only 15 and he became as obsessed with her as Milburn Drysdale was with Jed Clampett’s millions. She didn’t even really like him all that much at first, but he somehow wooed her and they’ve been an item since the Bicentennial, even though they’ve endured a plethora of ups and downs during that time. I guess maybe there is still such a thing as loyalty and devotion after all. And I gotta give Dee credit, she’s a real hottie (even today), as is their daughter Cheyenne, who looks just like her. As John Hiatt once sang about his own daughter Georgia Rae, “Lucky for you, child, you look like your mama…”
And I’ll be damned, but I can’t believe I never did a proper Twisted Sister blog tribute before now, so without further ado…
MY ALL-TIME (DROP AND GIVE ME) 20 TWISTED SISTER FAVORITES
20) “O, Come All Ye Faithful” (2006) I didn’t even realize until I read the book that “We’re Not Gonna Take It” sounds like the refrain from this yuletide tribute to mass orgasm. Which is why, as George Carlin once pointed out, “they called it ‘Adeste Fidelis’ to cool you out while you were in puberty.”
19) “Don’t Let Me Down” (1984) This one could’ve been a potential hit single, I think, but Atlantic Records was more anxious for the band to record their next album instead of milking more tracks off Stay Hungry.
18) “Leader Of The Pack” (1985) The Shangri-Las’ classic oldie had been a staple of Twisted Sister’s act for years before they hit the big-time. Snider decided to dig it back out for Come Out And Play, an album on which he got delusional and thought it would be cool to bring in guest musicians like Clarence Clemons of the E Street Band to play on. Love the “Big Man” (rest his soul), but saxophones do NOT belong on a Heavy Metal record. Ever! That kitsch-y stuff might work for Meat Loaf, but not Twisted Sister. Anyway, “LOTP” was rather humorous in places.
17) “Yeah Right” (1987) More or less the last word from Twisted Sister the first time ‘round, as it was the final track on the ill-fated Love Is For Suckers album, which was initially intended to be a Dee Snider solo album. At least it still had plenty of middle-finger…
16) “I Want This Night To Last Forever” (1987) Also from Suckers, this song kept going through my head during a romantic night in Las Vegas in 1999 with the only woman I every really loved. It was the first and only time I truly felt like I had the world by the balls and I didn’t want it to end…
15) “You Can’t Stop Rock ‘N’ Roll” (1983) Like most American Metal-heads, this was the first thing I’d ever heard from Twisted Sister and a portent of things to come…
14) “Hot Love” (1987) The band’s final video and the beginning of the end. At this point, they even abandoned the trademark war paint and costumes just like Motley Crue and W.A.S.P. did, and looked like mere mortals in the process. Every time I hear the line “Should I pass/should I play?” I think of the old “Password” game show.
13) “S.M.F.” (1984) Here’s a Casey Kasem long-distance dedication to Jerry Sandusky. S stands for sick. You’re on your own for the rest…
12) “Burn In Hell” (1984) This one gets better every time I hear it. Surprised it didn’t land on some ‘80s horror flick soundtrack because it would’ve fit right in.
11) “Come Out And Play” (1985) Great title and lead-off track to what was otherwise a fairly disappointing follow-up to the mega-hit Stay Hungry. The album did have a couple other hidden gems, though—read on…
10) “I Wanna Rock” (1984) The natural bookend for “We’re Not Gonna Take It”. Oh, boy is this great!
9) “The Price” (1984) “’Cause it’s the price we gotta pay/And all the games we gotta play/Makes me wonder if it’s worth it to carry on…” How many times have I pondered that line over the years…
8) “The Fire Still Burns” (1985) Not to be confused with Roger Daltrey’s “After The Fire (The Fire Still Burns)”, which came out about the same time, this was one of my favorites off Come Out And Play.
7) “Shoot ‘Em Down” (1982) From Under The Blade, Twisted Sister’s first album, which was only available in Europe for the longest time. Another middle-finger salute to anyone who offends you: “Shoot them down with a fucking gun!”
6) “We’re Not Gonna Take It” (1984) This should be the anthem for anyone who is fed up with our current political climate in America. “If that’s your best, your best won’t do…”
5) “Stay Hungry” (1984) More middle-finger. “Don’t be sidetracked or shunted/let pretenders feel your bite…”
4) “Out On The Streets” (1985) The other hidden gem from Come Out And Play, and it reflects my social life and love-life these days: “Searching for something in this human zoo/Kaleidoscope of faces/Maybe, maybe it might be you…Someone listen to my prayers/Can’t help feelin’ no one cares/No one dares…When you’re out on the streets, livin’ on your own…you can’t understand what’s goin’ on…When you’re out on the streets, your heart’s your only home.” Sad, but true…
3) “Tonight” (1987) Apart from Dee Snider himself, I must be the only person in the world who thinks Love Is For Suckers was a great album, and my top 3 Twisted songs all come from it. It was certainly more consistent than Come Out And Play, anyway, and I played the livin’ shit out of my cassette copy on my car stereo in the fall of ’87, blissfully unaware of how fractured the band was at that point. “Tonight” is all about high expectations and anticipation, and asks many a burning question like “Are you ready for the big game?”, “Do you wanna see us shake, rattle and roll?”, "Are you ready for the coup-de-tat at all?" and “Do you wanna see us put it in the hole?”
2) “(Wake Up) The Sleeping Giant” (1987) Lead-off track from LIFS, which I felt took on a whole new meaning in the wake of 9/11. “It’s gotta stop—you know there’s too much at stake…Who the hell are they to say what we can do and how we can play? We got the numbers, we got the right, we got the strength and we’ve got the might…so wake up the sleeping giant.” Unfortunately, the giant was sleepwalking and attacked Iraq instead of those who truly deserved it…
1) “Love Is For Suckers” (1987) Brilliant title and one of my all-time favorite album covers too. “Love—is for dreamers/Love—is for believers/Love—is for looooosers/ LOOOOOOVE—is for SUCKERS!” Ironic coming from a man who’s been married and devoted to the same woman for 30 years, but viewing love as I do through the bitter prism that only three-plus decades of dead-ends, false hopes, disappointments, rejection and total indifference from the opposite sex can bring, I can’t help but agree with Dee’s lyrics sometimes. Wouldn’t you like to be a sucker, too?
[NOTE: I haven’t quite made that leap to embrace Dee’s PMA thing just yet, as you can readily tell!]
"Now, early this morning...I got on that long-distance telephone, and I called my mama...I said, 'Mama, this is yo boy, and I'm WAY down here in New Orleans, Louisiana'. She said, 'That's alright, boy.' She turned to my papa and she said, "Papa, our boy is way down there in New Orleans—we cannot let him stay out all night long!' She did. Long about that time, I heard my papa lean toward my mama...I heard Papa tell Mama, 'Let that boy boogie-woogie!' He said, 'It's in 'im and it's got to come out..."—Rev. B. Gibbons, Z.Z. Top (1975)
I've been waiting 28 years for that quote to sorta be true. After years of delay, I finally made my way down to Cajun Country last weekend and visited Baton Rouge and New Orleans (just in time for Hurricane Isaac). My good friend Tom and I had originally planned to drive over to the Crescent City in the spring of 1984 after visiting Houston, but my wallet got stolen while it was loaded with $250 cash, thus we had to truncate the trip and return home (me with my tail between my legs) and for one reason or another, I never made it down that way until now. Apart from some flight delays and the oppressive humidity, it was a pretty good little weekend.
DEAF VALLEY DAY
One of my first stops in Baton Rouge on Saturday morning was LSU's Tiger Stadium, known affectionately as "Deaf Valley" because the fans get really loud here. It's not really in a valley, but the high-rise grandstands make you feel like you're in one, and this place is gi-normous like most all SEC football facilities. I was able to sneak in and get this field level shot from behind their old-school two-poster goal posts. I can see now why they play most of their games at night, too—it was about 9:30 in the morning when I snapped this, and it was already muckin' fuggy out.
THINKIN' INSIDE THE BOX
Just down the street from Tiger Stadium, I checked out LSU's baseball facility, Alex Box Stadium, and it's nicer than a lot of minor league stadiums I've seen. I guess winning the College World Series six times in the last 21 years or so makes them worthy, tho...
"JUST KEEP MATRICULATIN' THE BALL DOWN THE FIELD, BOYS..."
And this is where the matriculatin' (and Hank Stram's incessant sideline yammering) took place—the site of Tulane Stadium in New Orleans, where the Chiefs won Super Bowl IV in 1970 and former home of the annual Sugar Bowl game until 1974. I had trouble determining the exact footprint of the stadium because of all the Tulane University dorms and buildings that have gone up since the stadium was demolished in 1979. But, I'm pretty sure that somewhere near the building with the garage door opening is where running back Mike Garrett successfully executed the legendary "65 Toss Power Trap" TD run to break the game open, and the near sideline is the same one Otis Taylor bobbed and weaved (wove?) down to put the dagger in the Minnesota Vikings' hearts that day. Here's the tail-end of the game from the original CBS TV broadcast with the late Jack Buck on the call, which I didn't know still existed. And I'm guessing Tom Dempsey's NFL record 63-yard FG (also in 1970) would have been teed up somewhere perpendicular to that soccer goal off to the left by the building and kicked toward the left from where I was standing here. Tulane is getting pretty serious about building a new (and smaller) football stadium to the left of this photo as well. What goes around comes around...
THE PLANET OF NEW ORLEANS
This is the vista from my room at the Holiday Inn in downtown Nawleans. I love having views of downtown skylines from where I stay, and this one was outstanding. Great location too, just three blocks from the French Quarter and just a skosh further than that to the Superdome. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to partake of or do any "Twistin' By" the pool.
"I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND I GOT MYSELF A BEER..."
Apparently you can that here, literally. Jim Morrison would surely have been pleased...
"WE BLEW IT, MAN..."
You Easy Rider fans out there should recognize this. St. Louis Cemetery is located just off the French Quarter (or "Freedom Quarter", to youse Republicans) and it's where Peter Fonda, Denns Hopper, Toni "Hey Mickey" Basil and the blonde chick whose name escapes me had their little acid trip during Mardi Gras. Evidently, the cemetery folks were none too pleased that they filmed in their sacred territory, which is over 200 years old.
THAT LITTLE OL' MAN FROM TEXAS?
And here is Billy Gibbons of Z.Z. Top (or a reasonable facsimilie of him, anyway) after having gone through Darth Vader's carbon freeze process. That's a live human being, folks, sitting there completely motionless like a statue for tips in the French Quarter. I've seen these dudes before, and I don't see how the fuck they do this in the best of conditions, but in the oppressive heat/humidity of bayou country, that dude had to me melting under all that garb. Did I mention it was humid down yonder yet?
WHEN IN ROME...
...eat as the Romans do. This was my Saturday repast at the Gumbo Shop on St. Peter Street in the FQ and my first real taste of genuine Cajun food. Combo platter of shrimp creole and jambalaya, and it didn't suck. Not sure I'd want to eat it all the time, but I actually liked it. It was like what Campbell's soup could be if it actually had some FLAVOR in it. To all those who accuse me of never trying anything new, HA! I say. HA!
THE DOOBIE BROTHERS DON'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE...
Actually, they never did—they're mostly from the SF Bay area—but this is the avenue they named their second album Toulouse Street after in 1972. The only doobies you'll find in the FQ are the ones you smoke...
VOULEZ-VOUS COUCHER AVEC HER, CE SOIR?
Ummm, mais non! I'm not even sure her was a her with that baritone voice I heard coming out of "her". Just a little example of what I saw roaming the streets (rues) of the the French Quarter. I was a bit surprised at how dirty and run-down the FQ was (in places, mind you), but overall, it's a trip within a trip. I later returned after the Saints game after dark (without my camera), and if I could sum up my overall impression of Bourbon Street/the French Quarter in one word, that word would be Decadent! Baltimore's Memorial Stadium was affectionately called "The World's Largest Outdoor Insane Asylum", but that ain't quite accurate—that title goes to Bourbon Street. I couldn't help but think of the words of Paul Stanley from 1984's Kiss Animalize tour video: "...you got a lot to be proud of—this place looks like a damn zoo!" Guys holding hands. Girls holding hands. Horses holding hooves—anything goes here, and I enjoyed the hell out of it. Hell, you'd never have known by the way people acted Saturday night that there was a major hurricane headed for town. And you talk about the penultimate people-watching place, this is it. And yes, the women really do flash their tits for them damn beads people throw from the balconies, and I saw my first live pair of bare breasts in 13 years, come to think of it. I think this place may well have been the inspiration for Ozzy Osbourne's "Going off the rails on the crazy train..." And this was just in August—I can only imagine what New Year's Eve and Mardi Gras are like down there. Would love to pay a return visit, but I think it would be infinitely more fun to "geaux" with friends or a group instead of "geaux"-ing alone.
"HELD WITHIN OUR PLEASURE DOME, DECREED BY KUBLA KHAN..."
I've been dying to see this place since the day it opened, and it's pretty impressive. Not quite as big as Cowboys Stadium in Dallas, but taller, and not a bad place to watch a football game—for a dome, that is. I gotta give it up to the good peeples of New Orleans, too—they love their Saints. They acted like this meaningless exhibition game actually counted, and reminded me a lot of Chiefs fans, only minus the tailgating and BBQ. Hard to believe this is the same structure that housed such utter squalor seven years ago this week, and they had a special photo gallery on display on the concourse that chronicled the whole Katrina nightmare and the refurbishing of the Superdome.
THINKIN' INSIDE THE BOX, PART DEUX
P.A. announcer at the Stupordome encouraged fans to check out the Saints Hall of Fame inside the stadium. Being the HOF junkie that I am, I took them up on their offer. Well, folks, yer looking at it! Now, I do realize the Saints have had a fairly checkered history, but you gotta be shittin' me—a Hall of Fame that's smaller than a walk-in closet?!? If your Hall of Fame can fit comfortably into my bedroom, you've made some tactical errors along the way! By the way, young master Ellis wasn't kneeling in silent prayer to Drew Brees there—he was merely chowing down on his nachos.
NOT PICTURED, BUT WORTH MENTIONING...
—On Sunday after my French Quarter-induced hangover subsided, I took a little drive along the Gulf Coast and checked out Gulfport and Biloxi, and it was quite impressive. Too bad I'm not much of a sand, sun and surf kinda guy, tho—I fry like bacon in the sun anyhow. I also made my way over to Alabama and passed through Mobile for the first time since I was like three years old when our family visited there. Same damn battleship still resides in Mobile Bay too. Didn't have time to visit our good friend Benjamin "Bubba" Blue in nearby Bayou le Batre, tho.
—Did I mention the humidity? No? Good-goobily-goop, it's muckin' fuggy on the Bayou! It was a shock to my system going from a land that's brown and dry to one that's green and wet, and when I stepped out of the airport terminal in Baton Rouge, I felt like I was inside a terrarium—and that was at night. It's even worse during the day, and I don't see how folks can stand living down there, but I guess you get used to it after a while. Speaking of weather, I have now completed the severe weather warning Superfecta by being in a Hurricane Warning area for the first time in my life (to go along with Tornado Warnings, Flash Flood Warnings and Winter Storm Warnings). Fortunately, I got the hell out of Dodge 24 hours before Isaac arrived.
—I experienced my first flight delays as an infrequent flyer on this trip. My connecting flight to Houston on Friday on United was delayed by storms in Texas, and they actually moved me to another flight on American Airlines to Dallas to get me to Baton Rouge. I didn't fly to New Orleans proper because it was $150 cheaper to fly to BR, and I was planning to drive over there anyhow. Was fairly impressed with DFW aeroport too, while I was on the ground—very clean, nice waiting area, big TVs to watch, etc. Can't say as much about Houston's airport, though, where my return flight to KCI on Sunday was delayed for no particular reason (the weather was fine). The gate I had to wait at didn't even have a friggin' TV, nor did it have a jetway—I had to board the plane from the tarmac. Then again, whaddya expect from an airport named after Bush? Baton Rouge's airport was my favorite, though—small, nicely organized and completely navigable by foot.
—While I waited to check my bags in at KCI on Friday, I was behind one Felipe Paulino, a Royals pitcher who is currently on the DL. Then, on my return flight Sunday night, I was seated across the aisle from none other than Stanford Routt, the Chiefs' new cornerback. Didn't know who he was, though, until we reached the terminal and one of those valet people was holding up his name on a sign. You see, I flies with da stars...
I had nothing better to do and needed to get a fresh post on here, so I decided to update and revise a blog entry I did a few years back about that vaunted institution, the (C)Rock And Roll Hall of Fame, in which I listed who I felt belonged in it (as well as who didn’t). Since then, a mere handful of my choices were indeed inducted, but the majority of my list remains on the outside looking in, so it’s time for an update, the field of which I’ve expanded from 30 to 35. Keep in mind, these are all acts that have at least a legitimate chance of making the hall, and I’ve saved my sentimental favorites for the Honorable Mentions. I’ve also tweaked my list of UN-deservees as well, which I will save for a future post…
PEOPLE WHO I THINK SHOULD BE IN THE ROCK ‘N’ ROLL HALL OF FAME THAT AREN’T
(In order of deservedness and why)
1) PAUL REVERE AND THE RAIDERS I’ve said it a zillions times: Most underrated Rock band of all-time, period. They made way better records than the Lovin’ Spoonful, sold more records than the (Young) Rascals and could blow the Beach Boys off ANY stage, yet all those ‘60s contemporaries are in the Hall and the Raiders ain’t (and Spoonful and Rascals being questionable, at best). This egregious wrong should be righted immediately.
2) KISS I think the Hottest Band In The World gets in for their music ALONE, but if not, then you cannot deny the impact this band and its pyrotechnics has had on the way concerts, musicals, sporting events/Super Bowl halftimes, Olympic opening/closing ceremonies, etc., are staged.
3) THE MOODY BLUES Even if they never made another album after their first magnificent seven from the ‘60s and ‘70s, they deserve to be in the HOF. Genesis gets in but the Moodies don’t? Come on…
4) RUSH Thinking-man’s Rock doesn’t have a spot in the Hall? Please. These Canucks have been together over 40 years (38 with the "new guy") and can STILL bring it today. Rush gets snubbed but mindless crap like Velvet Underwear—er uh—Underground gets in? Please.
5) DEEP PURPLE Every bit as influential in the Hard Rock/Metal genre as Led Zeppelin, but DP doesn’t even get a sniff of the HOF. You’d think they’d get in for “Smoke On The Water” and “Highway Star” alone. Top-flight musicians all the way ‘round, too (regardless of lineup) and Ian Gillan is one of the greatest Rock wailers of all-time.
6) MOTORHEAD Ditto here, in regards to their influence on the bands who followed them. Metallica said it themselves when they were inducted—without Lemmy & Co., there would be no Metallica. No Guns ‘N’ Roses, either…
7) CHICAGO Quite possibly the horniest Rock band of all-time (musically) and they keep getting ignored by the Hall just because Rolling Stone magazine hated them. True, Chicago wimped out quite a bit in the ‘80s, but their body of work in the ‘70s is Hall-worthy. And, oh by the way, FUCK Rolling Stone…
8) GRAND FUNK RAILROAD We want the Funk! And that’s all I have to say about that…
9) CHEAP TRICK The critics actually LIKED this band, which makes it a mystery why they don’t get considered. Consistently good on record, and like Rush, are still bringing it today.
10) DAVE EDMUNDS One of the greatest re-workers of old-school Rock and Rockabilly music. It’s not as if he’s a mere cover artist (Linda Ronstadt, atten-SHUN!)—he takes people’s songs and makes them his own, like Smiley Lewis’ “I Hear You Knockin’”, Chuck Berry’s “Dear Dad” and Elvis Costello’s “Girls Talk”, to name three.
11) THE DOOBIE BROTHERS Another ‘70s band whose body of work gets dissed by the “Academy” (or whatever they’re called). NOTE: They get in for the non-Michael McDonald eras only.
12) STEVIE RAY VAUGHAN Sentimental choice just because he left us too soon? Hardly. This guy was a KILLER guitar player who at times made Clapton look like that clown Esteban by comparison. SRV should be a no-brainer for the HOF.
13) THREE DOG NIGHT The knock on 3DN is they didn’t write their own music. Yeah, so? The Temptations, Supremes, Four Tops and Dusty Springfield probably don’t have a single solitary composition amongst them, yet they’re all in (not that they don’t deserve to be). Another ‘70s hit machine like Chicago that gets ignored…
14) JIM CROCE His career was all-too-short, but so was Ritchie Valens' and he's in the Hall. I think Jim had plenty more rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve (just like “Rapid Roy”) if he had lived. Totally underrated good-humored songwriter whose influence you can hear in the songs of Jimmy Buffett and John Hiatt.
15) NICK LOWE Without Nick, Elvis Costello wouldn’t have gotten far in his career, let alone the Hall. Lowe’s songs are witty and up until about 1990, he could rock with the best of them. He’s regressed somewhat in recent years with boring acoustic lounge-lizard type music, but still deserves a spot in Cleveland.
16) JETHRO TULL Eclectic, to be sure, but strangely consistent for many years in spite of the charismatic and somewhat flighty Ian Anderson’s revolving-door band personnel policy.
17) HEART If nothing else, Heart should get in from a historical perspective for being the first major Rock band led by women, but Ann and Nancy’s music speaks for itself.
18) THE CARS Another band the critics just raved about, but like Cheap Trick, aren't in Cleveland. They didn’t even make my list the first time around, but the more I listen to them, the more impressed I get. Ric Ocasek always came off as a bit of an arrogant dweeb to me, but his musical sensibilities are spot-on most of the time, in spite of occasionally obtuse lyrics. And like Rush and Styx, The Cars showed that synthesizers—when used in moderation—are not so abhorrent.
19) JOHN HIATT Any man who can successfully work amoebas and porcupines into the same song (“Thing Called Love”) is Hall-worthy! Only lyricist I know of who ever used the word 'somnambulist', whatever that means. Easily the most underrated American songwriter of all-time.
20) JUDAS PRIEST The beast that is the Priest should’ve gone in the HOF way ahead of Metallica.
21) PAT BENATAR Petite on height, but long on lungs—one of the finest female voices in Rock history, hands down. Extra points for being sexy while remaining classy at the same time, which many of today's female performers fail miserably at.
22) DIRE STRAITS Quirky and subtle, but like Tull, strangely consistent. Most definitely a musician’s band.
23) STYX Four triple-platinum albums in a row? "Mr. Roboto"/Kilroy Was Here notwithstanding, they must have been doing something right.
24) OZZY OSBOURNE Already in as a member of Black Sabbath, yes, but for a guy from whom NOTHING was expected when he went solo in 1980, John Michael Osbourne has been a major overachiever and wildly successful.
25) IRON MAIDEN Like Priest, should’ve gotten in way before Metallica. Maiden’s lyrical subject matter can be a bit tedious at times, but the music is killer.
26) BAD COMPANY I was never a gi-normous Bad Co. fan, but you can certainly make a case for their consistent body of work in the ‘70s as being Hall-worthy.
27) JOURNEY Steve Perry’s flakiness aside, this band ruled the ‘80s, and if you look beyond all the big hits, Journey’s “B-stuff” on their albums (“People And Places”, “Walks Like A Lady”, “Rubicon”, “Lay It Down”, et al) is even better than the “A-stuff”.
28) R.E.O. SPEEDWAGON Like Styx, if these Midwesterners were from New York (Billy Joel, anyone?) or California (Eagles, anyone?), they’d probably already be in the Hall. You can’t tell me there’s no East Coast bias in music similar to the one ESPN has in sports.
29) THE GO-GO’S Like Heart, they get in for historical reasons, if nothing else. An all-female band who played their own instruments and wrote their own music—that was a Rock ‘N’ Roll first. And it was pretty good music too...
30) YES They actually dropped down a spot in my list, mostly because I’m not all that big on the Prog. Rock era from the ‘70s where you could time some of their cold and interminable songs with a calendar instead of a stopwatch, but Yes did have their moments now and then, and probably should be in. Oddly enough, my favorite Yes song is one Jon Anderson had no part in—“Run Through The Light” from 1980’s Drama album.
31) DEF LEPPARD Joe Elliott’s voice has all the depth of a shot glass, but he somehow made the best of it, and there is no denying this band’s contribution to making people (especially music critics) take Heavy Metal seriously in the mid-‘80s.
32) SCORPIONS World-class hard rock/metal outfit that is often overlooked by many dummkopfs (like Rolling Stone). Achtung, baby!
33) ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA As with the Moody Blues before them, ELO successfully integrated strings and other orchestral instruments with Rock sensibility and made it work. And after all, Whama-lama, bama-lama—Rock ‘N’ Roll IS king…
34) JEFFERSON STARSHIP The overrated Jefferson Airplane’s already in the Hall, and I still think that’s questionable. J. Starship’s stuff was way more consistent and less druggy. However, their inclusion in the Hall should NOT include anything they did without “Jefferson” in their name (to wit, from “We Built This City” onward…).
35) THE TURTLES The Turtles churned out just as many Pop/Rock hits than their ‘60s contemporaries Lovin’ Spoonful did and their songs were WAY better, so how come they don’t rate with the HOF?
Honorable mentions My sentimental favorites whom I know have absolutely NO shot, but deserve to be in anyway: The Rainmakers, Black Oak Arkansas, Molly Hatchet, DEVO, Foghat, Divinyls, Barry White, John Entwistle (for his bass playing alone) and The Rutles.
The final installment of the journey takes us northeastward into the Carolinas. The last time I set foot in North or South Carolina was when I was about three years old when we went to see my Dad’s sister who lived in Burlington, NC. As acute as my memory generally is, I don’t remember a damn thing about that visit 45 years ago, so this was all new territory for me…
“LET’S PLAY SOME OL’ HONK!”
Before we leave Atlanta behind, those immoral words (along with “Play it pretty for Atlanta…”) were uttered by the late Ronnie Van Zant at the venerable Fox Theater when Lynyrd Skynyrd recorded their classic double-live album One More For/From The Road in 1976. The place looks rather ornate, and like the other famed Fox Theaters in Detroit and St. Louis, I’d love to see a concert there someday. But why do they waste such a classic concert venue on the likes of Nicki Minaj? That’s akin to William Hung playing the Metropolitan Opera House…
THAT’S S-A-N-F-O-R-D, PERIOD, STADIUM…
This would be the home of the University of Georgia Bulldogs in Athens, about an hour east of Atlanta. Unlike most of the college football stadiums around these parts that have oodles and oodles of parking surrounding them, most of the stadiums I visited in SEC/ACC territory have virtually NO parking to speak of near them, which makes me wonder how in blue blazes they manage to get 90,000 people in and out of there on game days.
THE FOCUS OF MY TRIP
Here be the vehicle I rented from Enterprise, a 2012 Ford Focus that had exactly 10,000 miles on it when I picked it up. It got awesome gas mileage, 34.5 MPG, but I could’ve done without some of the bells and whistles that came with it, like phone gizmos and an overly-complicated radio/audio system. Not a bad car for weekend ride, though…
GET A PIECE OF THE ROCK
Clemson University’s Memorial Stadium is known as “Death Valley”, but it didn’t live up to its name on a rainy Sunday morning when I dropped by. In one of the cooler traditions in college football, the Clemson Tigers enter the stadium literally from the street on the east end and each player rubs “Howard’s Rock” (enclosed in glass here) before charging down the hill onto the playing surface. Fun way to get fired up for a game, it seems.
VERY ESSO-TERIC
I spotted this place just up the road from Clemson U. and had to get a shot of it. I love seeing vintage signage from “a better, vanished time”, as the Rush song goes, and this one made my day. I remember seeing lots of Esso stations during our family vacations down south when I was a kid, and this place appears to be an old-school gas station that was converted into a bar and restaurant, and the old Gulf sign was a nice touch too. All that’s missing are the “Regular” and “Ethyl” pumps and gas on sale for 32.9…
BUZZ KILL, 101
Believe it or not, this used to be the site of Charlotte Coliseum II (aka, “The Hive”), the mammoth 23,000-seat arena where the NBA’s Hornets once played. The place opened in 1988 and hosted the 1994 NCAA Final Four, but didn’t even make it to the age of 20, thanks in part to its lack of luxury suites and semi-poor location out in the suburbs, but mostly thanks to the Hornets’ dickhead owner George Shinn, the NBA’s answer to baseball’s Charles O. Finley. The original Charlotte Coliseum (now known as Bojangles’ Coliseum—named after a fast-food chicken outfit) still stands and is still in use just east of downtown, while The Hive literally bit the dust in 2007 after the Hornets moved to New Orleans and its site has yet to be redeveloped five years hence.
BOOGITY ENSHRINED
Because of our central location in the contiguous 48, Kansas City was majorly in the running to land the NASCAR Hall of Fame about five years ago, but it’s located in Charlotte, where it truly belong in the heart of Earnhardt Country. I’m a fairly casual NASCAR fan, but I especially enjoyed watching the races back in the ‘70s (back when the number was the most prominent feature on the outside of the car instead of them being rolling billboards like today), and I follow it enough today to know who’s who, so I figured their HOF was worth a look, and indeed it was. It’s only been open about four years, so there aren’t that many inductees so far (no Dick Trickle yet, dammit!), but the exhibits are pretty cool, especially the legendary cars on display on a “track” that wraps around the main atrium of the building and also simulates the various degrees of bankings found on the different speedways around the nation. They also had some interactive exhibits where you can play pit crew and see how fast you can jack up the simulator “cars” to change tires or how fast you can hook up the gas pump gizmo, etc. If I was a more hardcore NASCAR fan, I could’ve spent all day there, but an hour’s worth was good enough for me. An absolute must for racing fans, fer sure.
DE PLANE! DE PLANE!
Just up the road from Nags Head is the Wright Brothers Memorial near Kitty Hawk, but not actually IN Kitty Hawk, which is a bit to the north. The monument resides on Kill Devil Hill, from which I got this shot of the replica of Orville and Wilbur’s first flying contraption. [NOTE: I mentioned Orville first for a change, since Wilbur always gets top-billing, for some reason. Gotta give Orville some love, too, folks!]
PRETTY FLY (FOR TWO WHITE GUYS)
And on the other side of Kill Devil Hill would be the first friendly sky on earth, the strip of land where the Bros. Wright literally learned everything “on the fly” in 1903. It only costs 4 bucks to enter the property where all this went down—er uh, up—and there’s a separate fee for the museum, which I would like to have visited, but didn’t have time.
“WHERE’S THAT CONFOUNDED BRIDGE?”
As I mentioned back during the Big Nor’easter trip last year, I love tunnels. Big bridges too. The outer banks of North Carolina and Chesapeake Bay area have a boatload of both, and for about five years now, I’ve been dying to drive on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel after watching History Channel’s “Modern Marvels” segment on it. It costs $12 one way (and $5 for a round trip on the same day) to ride, and the thing is about 17 miles long and comes with not one, but TWO tunnels that dip underneath the bay to allow ship traffic to navigate unimpeded toward Virginia and/or the Baltimore area. It’s pretty wild to reach a point where there’s nothing but water on either side of you and no land to be found—we don’t have cool shit like this around here! It seemed at times that the seagulls were racing me in the car, too. In addition, the Hampton/Norfolk/ Newport News area had several other tunnels burrowing under the various waterways in the region. Wish I had more time to explore what I found to be a nifty part of the country. I may well head back that way in October…
