The names have been changed to protect my own sweet ass.

I was handed a large helping of humble pie yesterday. It is pictured above. I won't say who gave it to me or where it was done, but suffice it to say, I am not the one with the smile. No, that crude character on the right with the buckshot in his chest, arms, groin, and leg is none other than Lord Elgarf. I guess I must've gotten under someone's skin. This was a rather straight-forward statement (I would not call it abstract, I don't believe there is any hidden meaning).

As if this were not bad enough, I was soon handed a second drawing:

Man. How about that? I guess I am most dissatisfied (aside from the horribly naked stick figures) with the scene in the lower left. The one where I am being pulled apart by two pick-up trucks. Say what you want, but that just looks painful to me! What a way to go!

"Je-ee-sus fre-eaks, out in the stree-eets..."

This was personally addressed to me in red pen with a post mark of 16 Nov 2000. I found it recently when going through some old stuff and had a chuckle. I can be such an ass!

To make it easier on your eyes I shall transcribe it:

Dear friend, it's out of concern for your soul that I'm writing to you today. According to the Bible, we're living in the last days, and it saddens me to know , there are so many people out there, who still don't know Jesus Christ as their personal Savior.

Jesus saved my soul Jan. 22, 1980 and for this, I can never do enough to repay him. However, I can and must strive to be a soul winner for him. And one way of doing this, besides just continuing to pray for you, is by writing to you, and reminding you, that your soul is just as important to Jesus today, as it was the day he gave his life for you on Calvary's Cross.

If you're already a born again Christian, continue in the faith. If you're not, please seek Jesus while he may be found. Attend the Bible believing; Bible teaching church of your choice. Repent, be baptized, study God's word, and labor in the vineyard.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. St. John 3:16

Sincerely,

Being the conscientious citizen that I am, I couldn't let this letter of good will be left unanswered. The following is my response:

Those of you who know me best are familiar with my strong belief system. I like to think that J Paul 2 would be proud.
Amen.

VACANCY

"It's not as though she were a maniac or some raving thing, she just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?"

One of my all-time favorite quotes. Norman Bates has invited Marion Crane into the parlor behind the office of the Bates Motel for sandwiches and milk. It is a rainy night on the outskirts of Fairvale California and she has pulled off the road for the night. Not wanting to travel another 10 miles in the rain to reach the nearest diner, she accepts Norman's "hospitality".

I first saw Hitchcock's masterpiece, PSYCHO, while in highschool some 17 years ago. He has been a hero of mine since. Not for the brutal slayings, but for the way that he deals with the shitty hand life has dealt him. At heart he's not a bad guy. He was raised by a sick, overbearing, troubled woman. In his attempts to please her things have gone wrong.

I have had the VHS version of this 1960 film for many years, and had an old beat up tape that had 2 of the three sequels. I was excited and very much pleased to find the DVD release in a local super-center that contains PSYCHO II, PSYCHO III, and PSYCHO IV The Beginning. It is nearly impossible to match the magic of an original movie in a sequel, and these films certainly do not do that. Having said that, they are a very rewarding continuation of the Norman Bates story. I love the premise of PSYCHO II where Norman returns to the house and motel 22 years later and deals with people who refuse to forget his past. PSYCHO III keeps the ball rolling, but, by itself it is not that memorable. Then there is PSYCHO IV. Henry Thomas plays a teenage Norman Bates and illustrates the events that made him a slave to his mother, Norma. Released in 1990 it was one of Anthony Perkins' final films and plays out as a "prequel" several years before George Lucas made that a nauseating buzz-word.

I can't say enough about this series and my favorite serial killer of all time (with apologies to John Kramer, my number 2) and at $14.00 for three movies it was was an absolute steal!

Jeux Sans Frontieres

"if looks could kill they probably will in games without frontiers, war without tears"

So said Peter Gabriel in 1980's somewhat creepy song, Games without Frontiers from one of many self-titled albums. So said Peter Gabriel on the same recording coming through my car stereo on July 4th of 1995 on my way to work at the franchised ice cream stand. I was singing along at the stop light waiting for my turn to go through the intersection. As the light turned green I inched forward because one of the other cars had come out too far and I had to go around them. As I did this I did not see the other car come sailing through their red light and not even slow down until the impact. My car was spun around to face oncoming traffic and I (quite brilliantly) realized, "I've been in an accident". As I gathered my thoughts those french sounding ladies kept repeating, "She-So-Fro-Tee-Ay". My first action was to turn off the goddamn radio. My second action was to get out of the car and approach the assholes that hit me. One was a middle-aged, somewhat dim man leaning against a guard rail in a white undershirt. "What the hell happened?" I asked, somewhat indignantly.

Instead of trying to explain his side of the story he got pissy. "Don't even start" he said, or something to that effect. I just thought he was a low functioning citizen so I just kept walking until I got to the driver. At this point the story blurs, but I can say that he was an older man wearing a dirty old ball cap and some sort of work attire. I don't know if I saw the bottle then or if the cops later showed it to me but I do remember "Four Roses" being involved somehow. The two had been drinking at the dam all night (no doubt celebrating the birthday of these United States).

Anyway, I am not even approaching the subject of alcohol related accidents because it is not worth mentioning in my case. I walked away completely unharmed and cannot in anyway relate to the tragedy that many Americans face. The point of this posting, however, is that song (you know, the one I started out with). Shortly after the experience when I would hear the song it was a very strange sensation. It wasn't traumatic, I just didn't want to hear it. That was 12 years ago. I have been listening to a lot of Genesis lately and decided to start re-examining solo Peter Gabriel. Last night I played the 1980 album with the melting face that has Games Without Frontiers. It was a reunion of sorts and I am looking forward to importing it to the ipod.

Farewell to Jekyl... I mean Hyde

During my lunch time today I had NPR on and was able to catch the top of the hour news. They reported that Henry Hyde had died (that rhymes). My first thought was, "oh, that asshole", but it took me a second to figure out why I had thought that, it had been a while since I had heard the name. The next line in the report reminded me, he led the impeachment proceedings on President Clinton. Since I know certain of you refuse to speak ill of the dead I will keep this short. Clinton's accusers ended up with nothing. Hyde is dead. Who wins? I guess my question is, where are the Henry Hydes of today to persecute the true criminal in office?

Rael, Imperial Aerosol kid

This took some time to realize but it is worth committing to print. You can see by the new Poll to the right that I would like some opinions on double-albums. Those closest to me know that I am a Pink Floyd afficionado and feel that all other music pales in comparison. Having said that I have chosen a side. While I am no fan of the Genesis of the 80s (paperlate, sussudio, and those other shitty pop songs) I have become quite a fan of the Progressive Power-House that Genesis was in the 1970s up until the departure of Peter Gabriel. In my opinion the greatest double album ever pressed to vinyl was The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, released in the year of my birth, 1974, and marked Gabriel's last collaboration with Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford, Steve Hackett and of course, Phil Collins. It relays the story of a young male by the name of Rael emerging from the subway in New York City and hiding a can of spray paint he recently used to leave his mark on the city. A mysterious cloud engulfs Manhattan and Rael finds himself in a nightmarish alternate reality in which he must confront and conquer his short-comings if he is to return to "the freedom I (he) had in the rat-race".

Like Pink in the Wall, Rael does find himself in the end and the consequences are far less tragic. There is no question that it is Genesis' finest production and I would argue that no other double-album compares in story telling, musicianship, and raw emotion. Having said that, the poll is actually a list of my own favorites. If I have left any better albums out, I would love to know and discuss them.

Rathbone / Brett

I have been reading the Sherlock Holmes canon since my first year of college and consider myself quite a fan. Since that time the Granada television series has been the perfect companion to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's mystery stories. Jeremy Brett who played Sherlock Holmes brought the character to life, a living embodiment of the Great Detective. While all the interpretations were done with great respect to detail of the writing and of Victorian London, my favorite shows tend to be my favorite stories: The Musgrave Ritual (for which my cats Brunton and Musgrave are named), The Greek Interpreter (where we meet Sherlock's older brother, Mycroft), the Resident Patient, and the Sign of Four.

It is only within the last few years that I have broadened my horizons and delved into other screen portrayals of Sherlock Holmes. Dressed to Kill was the first one I had seen. I didn't make it through the movie. It took place in the 1940s and had absolutely nothing to do with anything Doyle had written. Basil Rathbone played the detective who looked like, but really did not sound nor act like Sherlock Holmes. He had that very direct, short tone of voice that was common to the actors of the 40s and his sidekick, Nigel Bruce, was a pompous, bumbling idiot and in no way like Holmes' beloved chronicler and friend Dr. Watson. I couldn't believe that these two were the legendary Hollywood Holmes and Watson. I was offended and avoided them for several years.

Since then I have found various DVD compilations of the old movies and even a television show from the 50s. While I still hold the opinion that Brett is the ultimate Holmes, I have softened my stance on those other guys. This is partly due to the radio shows that Rathbone/Bruce did in between shooting the films. While the movies were set in modern day, the radio shows go back to 221B Baker Street in London at the end of the 1800s. While the sound effects and organ playing are often campy, they do highlight the action that stays much truer to the original accounts of Dr. Watson than do the WWII era films.

So, if you are a fan of the writings seek out the Jeremy Brett collection. There is no question that he becomes Sherlock Holmes in each performance; the mannerisms, the habits, the speech patterns. If you are more into black and white 1940s Hollywood then Basil Rathbone will serve you well.

An admitted weakness in graphite and Prisma Color Pencil

Hand-Me-Down World

I don't know why it took me so long to relay this story, but I think you will enjoy it. I was just speaking to my sister about possible x-mas gifts and had mentioned that if she had any hand-me-downs they would be much appreciated. Does that sound strange? As it turns out, my brother-in-law and I am similar in size. Being ever fashion conscious, my sister passes on to me things that he no longer wears. As I have no interest in clothes shopping it works out to my advantage. This brings me to my favorite pair of pants of all time.

Size 34 waist 30 length Khaki, Corduroy, Old Navy Carpenter pants with a side strap for a hammer ("good evening, your excellency. How hangs the hammer?" -George Carlin). These are the most comfortable pants I ever remember wearing. They feel better than worn in jeans, yet look professional enough to wear to work. Having said that, they have fallen into disrepair. Probably 2 years ago the back right pocket got caught on something and was nearly ripped off. Luckily the hole was not large enough to take away from the overall presence. I just stopped using that pocket. The front, right-hand pocket where I keep my keys had become another story, however. First the corduroy became worn away. It started to look like a bald spot (yeah, I know. Keep your smart-ass comments to yourself!). Then, about 2 weeks ago I noticed a hole started to be worn into the thinning fabric. At this point I should have retired the pants. They have served me well. I just couldn't let them go.

This brings us to 2 Thursdays ago (or thereabouts). I was on the job and it was about 1:45 pm. I was having a disagreement with a co-worker pertaining to Jolt Cola. I insisted that that was in fact the name of this highly caffeinated beverage and that the label was red with white lettering and a yellow lightning bolt going through the "O". He countered that it was actually Jolt Energy drink and had a different colored label, let's say blue. I had yet another co-worker go to the computer to download an image and prove myself right and the other party wrong ("what an asshole! "-the horse and buggy man). I was squeezing my way between a table and the back of a chair with a loose bolt sticking out when I looked up at the computer screen and saw the exact Jolt label that I had described minutes before. I called everyone's attention to the screen pointing out that I was right and the other person was wrong (man, that really is an asshole thing to do!)

"And they tried to tell me otherwise!" I announced, just as I heard a RRRRIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP! I then felt a cool breeze where there should not have been one. I looked down to see that the frayed pocket of those treasured pants had caught the loose bolt and had torn a hole revealing a pale, hairy thigh.

Needless to say, there were 15 people pointing and laughing at me ("as I lay in a pool of my own blood..." no, it wasn't quite that bad). What could I do? I joined the laughter. It was hilarious. I grabbed some masking tape and did this...

Later, as we were walking out of the building, people were asking me about my new fashion trend. A witness relayed the tale as he saw it, "Yeah, you were acting all cocky because you were right about that label, and then RIP!"

I stopped and thought about it and said, "I guess you're right. What a jerk. That's what I get."

Here's to Harry

"...so come on down to Harry's Sex Shop. That's me, Harry, the guy with a snake on his face"

So claims the late great John Candy in the guise of this lovable, if sleazy, adult novelty store owner on SCTV. How's that for an attention getter? I open with this because today is election day 7 November 2007, one year to the day that we elect a new president in 2008. I was not going to go to the polls today. The girls had a vet appointment and I had gotten home from that, put on my fleece pajama pants, made a pot of decaf and sat down at the computer to look for blog updates and otherwise waste time. That's when the phone rang. It was the chief on his way from work to the election polls. I mentioned that I did not know enough about the local game to get involved, but he argued that I, of all people, know that I need to vote and not leave the choices to everyone else. Fair enough. There were 7 issues on the ballot. Three dealt with unopposed politicians, three dealt with tax levies, and one dealt with the aforementioned "Harry".

The religious extremers would like to impose a curfew on strip clubs and "adult bookstores", imposing a fine on these businesses that should stay open after midnight. They also want to limit the touching of semi-nude dancers to a few designated areas. Unfortunately there was no diagram as to what would be legal and what would be a no-no. It is unfortunate because that would have made the ballot a lot more fun.

It struck me as odd that these people curse and damn the evil "LIBERALS" who want to force the business owner to answer to the big bad government. "Keep government off our backs", wasn't that Reagan's motto? Yet, that goes out the window when they don't agree with the business. This seems absurd to me. If it is that big a goddamn deal, why don't they stop playing for chicken-shit and go for the prize. Legislate to CLOSE THE FUCKERS DOWN! The problem there is that they couldn't get the backing because of the money that these legitimate legal businesses bring in. That is not to say that they are right or wrong, but they are legal. This micromanaging bullshit is just wrong.

Any guesses how I voted?

Ride the Lightning

I have been meaning to post this for the longest time, but just haven't gotten around to it. It was a busy and fantastic weekend as already mentioned on 2 other blogs (Chief/O'Malley) but it is definitely worth mentioning here. The "somewhat
holy trinity" of Rabbi Pfefferberg, Father O'Malley, and Hari Elgarf left their mark on the local Halloween block party and I can't wait to see these two guys again.

Anyway, on to the post. Have you heard this ongoing debate about the lethal injection? Certain parties have filed a lawsuit to delay the execution of death-row inmates claiming that the administration of the three drugs does not always follow protocol, and this may OR MAY NOT result in cruel and unusual punishment. As I understand it one drug puts the killer to sleep, another numbs the senses and the third shuts down the organs, or something like that. If, however, these are given in a different order the organs are shut down while the killer is aware and able to feel pain. Some states have called a moratorium on executions until this is settled. Others have not.

I agree that this must be stopped. We cannot have killers feeling pain during their transition into non-being. I think someone should come up with some sort of device that introduces a lethal dose of electricity into the body. A sudden jolt, in a comfortable chair might make the transition into nothingness more palatable. Or, what if they were to tie a rope around the killer's neck and, with the aid of some sort of trap door and the laws of gravity, a quick snap could bring the end relatively quickly. I know these ideas are new and radical but I feel they would make public execution much more agreeable to everybody.

The Second Coming

Yes, another post on Season Six Part II of the Sopranos. Having said those harsh words about Mr. Chase I think it is only proper to give credit where credit is due. This is one of the single most powerful episodes of the entire series (imho, as they say). Now I know the chief can't tolerate Anthony Jr., but I have always felt that he got a raw deal. There has always been so much drama in the lives of Tony, Carmella, and (God knows) Meadow. AJ was spoiled, yes, but it was always a matter of throwing money at him so they didn't have to deal with him, never taking into consideration that he was just a confused kid not knowing which way to go. Sure, he was "Tony Soprano's son" and kids at school took advantage of that fact in hanging out with OR ostracizing him. Did he ever flaunt it? No. Never in the series did he say "do as I say or my dad will come after you." The parents did, and so did some glory hounds, but he didn't. Yes, he was whiny and yes he was a Mama's boy, but what else did he know?

At any rate, the performance of the entire cast in this episode was amazing. If this was the episode that got the emmy recognition and I am repeating what has already been said, I apologize. Go ahead and stop reading, I am an idiot and didn't know. Otherwise, I will continue.

The raw emotion and pain expressed by everyone was so REAL. Here was a family facing a real tragedy. All the bullshit was cast aside and you had a mom and a dad and a sister heartbroken for the baby of the family. The whole relationship thing became somewhat farcical at the end and the overindulgent depression that he went through makes it easy enough for one to say, "get over it, already." I guess I felt that way too. She (Blanca) really only seemed to tolerate (and even pity) him. But I would like to point out that this was AJ's first chance to step outside himself as the boss's son and become his own person. He didn't care that she had a son by another man, and in fact, fell for that kid almost as much as he did for the mom. He also began to realize that not everyone had it as good as he did. He did become somewhat idealistic about what could be done, but this was his first glimpse of the larger world. Some might even say that this awakening could be similar to that of the Prince Gautama who was sheltered from the outside world by his father. When he ventured out into the world and saw the sick, the aged, the dying, he began the journey toward enlightenment. Does that mean that AJ will do the same? No. I don't even mean to change the chief's (or anyone else's) mind with this post. I would only like to refute the claim that Anthony Jr. was nothing more than a whiny bitch. It goes far deeper than that.

Now, to throw some ice-cold water on the situation, the real reason I started this ramble was to point out the sheer artistry that David Chase has in spite of my calling him an "asshole" for what he did to Sil and Bobby. In this series there are a lot of shades of grey. If we accept and love Tony, we must also accept that he does some awful things in his line of work. The people that get hurt by him do awful things to so it works out OK. But, the bad guys have never stood out more clearly than in this series, and they usually get what is coming to them. There is the artistry. The New York boss, Phil Leotardo, has completely lost touch with reality. He is no longer a business man in charge of business-minded soldiers, he is completely insane. To illustrate, he has thrown a birthday party with a cake and candles for his dead brother. He has it in his mind that Tony has done him wrong and that the Jersey crew could be shit upon. One of his henchman, Coco, sees Meadow at a restaurant and sexually harasses her. Meadow is nowhere near the business. This clearly steps over the line. At 39:20 I think I can safely say that I witnessed the most satisfying sequence in television history. Tony walks into the restaurant, pistol whips Coco, waves his gun at that bastard Butchie, picks Coco's head up, puts it on the foot rest by the bar, and stomps his fucking head, sending teeth everywhere. It was beautiful. How often does the bad-guy get whats coming to him? In this episode he did.

The Mormon

In a somewhat recent discussion on another blog that is no longer with us, I commented that the Mormon is not in the running. A question was asked about Mitt Romney being in a political poll, and I said...

good god, I almost pulled a "Perkins". You know what I said, its at the end of the first line.

Anyway, this afternoon I heard a clip on the radio from the most recent republican debate. Mr. Romney was disgusted with the emergence of new tapes in which Barack Obama was calling the insurgents to rise up against the Americans and to carry out the jihad.

I did not make a typo. That's what he said.

Can we now eliminate this idiot from the race? I am no fan of Obama, but to "CONFUSE" a fellow American who is running for the same office as yourself with the terrorist that YOUR president demonized and then dropped the ball on is unforgivable.

Kennedy and Heidi

Who the hell are these two? I had seen the episode (The Sopranos Season Six Part II Episode 6) but I figured I would watch it again to have the cryptic title revealed to me. Then BANG! Christopher and Tony go careening over the embankment and one teeny bopper turned to the other teeny bopper in the on-coming car that he swerved to miss, and what does she say?

"Kennedy, maybe we should go back and see if they are OK"

Kennedy then tells Heidi "get real, I'm driving on my learner's permit at night." I turned the episode off at that point. Sure, I had seen it before and knew what happened, but that was terribly disturbing. I have already come to terms with the fact that David Chase is an asshole (and forgiven him) for what he did to Sil and Bobby, and now this. Anyway, I was going to comment on the unfortunate fact that the last song Christopher heard was that Piss-Poor rendition of Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb by Roger Waters and Van Morrison and the Band from the Wall 1990 Concert. He and Tony just discussed how great the Departed soundtrack was, then...

But we are on to other things now. I have not seen the Departed. I may or may not, I do not care either way. My question is, "in what context was that song played?" Can someone tell me? Sure I could do an internet search but I am not that interested in the information, not enough to go out on assignment. My theory is that the story takes place in 1990 and that someone was watching the event to commemorate the tearing down of the Berlin Wall on TV. I can really think of no other reason to revive that piece of shit.

Don't get me wrong. I AM A ROGER WATERS FAN. A Momentary Lapse of Reason was just that on David Gilmour's part and it sucked. Nothing they have done without Roger compares to what they did as a group (The Division Bell was decent, but not on par with DSotM, Animals, Meddle, and so on.) For Roger's part, he sounded great in Berlin. Bryan Adams, Cyndi Lauper, The (fucking) Scorpions, Van Morrison and the Band DID NOT! Just like A Momentary Lapse said a big "Fuck You" to Roger, the Wall Live in Berlin did the same thing in the direction of the Floyd. "It's mine and I will do IT without you!" I used to like Van Morrison up until that point. He sounds like a drunk redneck on his last leg. Could this be the same guy who recorded Moondance? He sure sounds like a hack and will burn in hell for what he did to that song. So, WHY WERE TONY AND CHRISTOPHER SINGING ALONG WITH THAT PIECE OF SHIT! Please tell me. I would like to know.

"That cat's something I can't explain"

I type this listening to the Mono Mix of Lucifer Sam on the 40th Anniversary Special Edition of (Syd's) Pink Floyd's Piper at the Gates of Dawn. I first saw this set a couple weeks ago and my first impulse was to pick it up right then and there, but the $36 dollar price tag held me back. Then, just this past Saturday I took a box full of lps to the local record trader. I was given $70 store credit for stuff that had just taken up space for the last 8 or ten years! With that I ordered the set and just received it today. As for the sound, it's great, but I have not had the time to compare it to the stereo mix. I will say that with a quick run through I have noticed that the voices shouted through the megaphone at the beginning of Astonomy sound more distinct. More to come on that later. The third disc has a few treats on it. The first 5 tracks are a mimic of the singles disc included in Shine On from 10 years ago, but for up and coming fans Candy and a Currant Bun and Apples and Oranges might be a pleasant surprise. I was very much impressed with the alternate lyrics on Matilda (track 8), not so much by their composition but by their inclusion here and Interstellar Overdrive (take 6), which definitely has some experimentation on it not heard in the various other versions of this track.

I think the packaging on this is the hook, however. It looks like a hard-bound book and includes photographs of this original line-up in the recording studio around the equipment. I hadn't seen these shots before so was impressed. They also included a booklet that is a facsimile of one of Syd Barrett's art portfolios. It is quite fascinating to see the way he mingled words and images in these collages.

Just like anything else, I believe that this will appeal to the fans. It certainly won't convert people to the flock, but it is a refreshing change from the same old cd with a new insert in the same old jewel case. I just hope that Animals eventually receives a similar presentation.

There never was a cake

OK. I know I am beating a dead horse here, but it is true that when something gets into my head I have a hard time letting it go until it is resolved, at least to my liking. Not that I have to agree with the results, don't get me wrong, it just has to resolve. On a recent four hour road-trip, the one that led up to the previous post, I spent a lot of quality time with my iPod. I had since transferred "a Tramp Shining" Side Two, and was listening to MacArthur Park on repeat (as Jim Morrison once said,"oh, don't ask why"). Again, I know this piece is long-winded to some and farsical to others and I do not mean to convert the inconvertible, but I do not believe there was any cake (in the literal sense) to begin with. We would have to ask Jimmy Webb and I do not know if he is alive or dead or if this topic has already been covered a million times or not. Anyway, Richard Harris is walking through this park (think of him in the trench coat in that old picture of James Dean for Boulevard of Broken Dreams). He is reflecting on a lost love whom he spent so much time with here. He thinks of spring, her yellow dress, and so on. His thoughts lead to tears which make his eyes glassy, creating the "fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes" (Roger Waters, the Final Cut). The street lights "run", the scene blurs. "MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark" is literal, at least to his eyes. "all the sweet green icing" and "the cake out in the rain" are figurative statements as mentioned in the earlier post. Now, as a kid, when I heard him say, "I don't think I can take it," I didn't even know there was a cake involved, I never heard that. I thought he meant "I can't take it any more". This seems to align more closely than a hobo looking for free food and finding it in the form of a cake being battered by the elements.

In short, "I don't think I can take it (the pain anymore), Cuz' it took so long to bake it (the relationship), and I'll never have that recipe (for love) again".

Amen

"I painted Gregg Allman's house..."

That was what I heard Friday night at a little hole in the wall bar in Western Pennsylvania. I was catching up with my father and his cousin over a drink or two, when I couldn't help but notice the attractive, if tipsy, young white lady hanging on the arm of an acquaintance of my dad's. I then noticed her flitting from person to person, bumping and grinding against nearly every guy in the bar. At this point I feel it important to note that the crowd was overwhelmingly African-American. Why is this pertinent to the story? Because, as we were sitting in the back room away from the crowd, she found her way back to us and exclaimed, "they're out to get me!", to which my father said, "who is?" to which she replied...

Well, I won't say. It wasn't the mother of all offenses but it was uncalled for. She then found her way onto my cousin's lap and shouted out that she had painted Gregg Allman's house. I asked her if she used watercolors, acrylics, or oils. She gave me a look that clearly said, "there's no one home". I told her that I liked to paint in watercolors, myself. To which she shouted, " I am a professional contractor! I actually painted his house in Florida". I told her that I am a big fan of the Allman Brothers Band, have seen them five times, and have read the biography, "Midnight Riders". "I thought he lived in Macon Georgia," I said.

"Are you calling me a liar?!" she shouted. No, I wasn't. I just thought he lived in Georgia. What she should have said was, "No, silly. The band may have come together there but he doesn't live there now." To which I would have replied, "Well said". Instead she became indignant. "I have a picture of myself with Gregg!" to which I asked, "Is it in there?" pointing to her purse.
"No," was the reply. "That's convenient," I said.

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY!!!???" she shouted. I made it clear that I wasn't trying to say anything, but that wasn't good enough. "You know that song, 'Sweet Melissa'? He sang it to me. My name is Melissa." I said that it must have been right before the picture was taken. By now she was becoming livid, so I asked her, " how many toes does he have?" Her jaw dropped. "Dude, I don't even know where you are coming from now?" My cousin asked if I had ever seen his feet. While I hadn't, I do know that there was a certain issue about going to Vietnam, and a bottle of whiskey and a shotgun somehow got mixed up one night and Mr. Allman sustained a serious injury to his foot, or so I read. I don't even know if he really lost the toe. I guess I wanted "Missy" to clear this up for me, she knew him so well.

She made it clear that she did not know anything about his feet and that doesn't change the fact that she painted the house and that she had seen the band SIX times. I knew that was a lie. If I had said 7 she would have said 8, it was the old one-up game that children use to out-do each other in school. I told her that I didn't believe that.

She started to cry. No shit. She really started to cry. She buried her head on my cousin's shoulder. So I asked her about the 20 minute drum solo that Jaimoe and Butch Trucks still do at every performance (The Chief knows this is true. He lived through it). "Dude, I don't even know who you are talking about!!!" she shouted. To which I replied, "right, and you want me to believe that you have seen them six times." She began to sob again. At this point my father and his cousin stood up and said in unison, "well, we better get going".

I laughed my ass off all the way through the bar to the front door. As we emerged into the street my father shouted, "that's why you don't have a girlfriend!" and we all continued to laugh all the way to our next stop. I woke up the next morning laughing my ass off.

What is the moral of this story, boys and girls?

If you don't know what you're talking about, shut your goddamn mouth.

Blow Me Down

With 30 minutes to kill while waiting for a prescription I went into the local "super store" to wander around. Looking for nothing in particular I made my way to electronics. There in the $5 bin I found a copy of Popeye, the 1980 Robert Altman film starring Robin Williams and Shelley Duvall. It is so rewarding to revisit a cherished memory from childhood and find it in mint condition. Too often, things pale in comparison (take for example VOLTRON Defender of the Universe. While I will collect everything they put out to honor the memory, many episodes make Speed Racer seem smooth and fluent {it wasn't}). I watched the movie as soon as I got home and am happy to say that, while just silly in parts, it is just as good as I remember it. The actors' cartoonish portrayals of these immortal characters is truly remarkable from Robin Williams' hilarious mutterings, to Shelley Duvall's gangly movements and screechy, "POPEYEEEEEE!!" and Ray Walston's hopping up and down on the poop deck shouting orders.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was a Robert Altman film. I didn't know him in 1980 when I was in grade school watching the movie every time it aired on HBO. Since then I have come to love M*A*S*H* and even his final movie, " A Prairie Home Companion". I am going to have to delve into the archives and watch some of his other movies.

A Tramp Shining

"It started as a joke..."
-Tori Amos: Digital Ghost - American Doll Posse 2007

While often a topic of discussion, I never scratched too far beneath the surface of MacArthur Park. It was that song about never having that recipe again. I knew the refrain, didn't even know the name until recent years. It was that song that Apu's daughter did in the talent show on the Simpsons that put the audience to sleep. It was that song that I heard countless times growing up, on the radio and in elevators and in stores and even in the barber shop that played mellow sounds of the day while we waited for a haircut.

I recently bought Season 1 of SCTV on DVD and laughed hysterically at Dave Thomas' impression of Richard Harris performing MacArthur Park live, but for all of the artists who covered the song, why did he pick Richard Harris? I was at the time visiting the Chief, who was also laughing. He did a quick internet search on the topic and found that the original recording was done by none other than Richard Harris, the guy who recently played Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series until his death just a few years ago. I have not looked this up to confirm it but memory tells me that he was also "a Man Called Horse" and that IRA guy in Patriot Games.

At any rate, the Chief and I were recently in a Record Store and HE came across Richard Harris - A Tramp Shining. Released in 1968 this album features Mr. Harris' voice along with the lyrics of Jimmy Webb, and, yes, MacArthur Park is the first song on side 2. The Chief said I had to buy it (it was an exorbitant $2.99). As the first line suggests, I think it was a joke. Then the song appeared in the virtual iPod just to the right of these words. Then the scrolling lyrics showed up. This was starting to get serious. What was Lord Elgarf trying to accomplish? Fun is fun, but this is getting a little excessive. Now the S.O.B. does a posting on it! I can even do you one better...



Yes, in spite of the 7 minutes that may have made radio stations cringe, and in spite of such lyrics as "like a stri-ped pair of pants", "MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark, all the sweet green icing flowing down", and the immortal "someone left a cake out in the rain" there is a haunting quality to the song that takes me back to the seventies (when I heard it, anyway). Instead of asking, "What idiot would leave a cake out in the rain?" I choose to ask, "What tragic circumstances led this person to abandon such a pastry (a cake is not an everyday confection such as a pie or a plate of cookies, but a representation of a celebration: a birth, a wedding, a birthday, an anniversary). It clearly symbolizes the end of something that was held dear.

I won't say how many times I have listened to this album, but I will say that as one side ends I flip it and play the other side, repeatedly.

Cookie Slappings

Ever been slapped in the face by a cookie? No, not WITH a cookie, but BY a cookie. Up until Friday night I could answer that question with an emphatic NO. Unfortunately, since then, times have changed. I went to a Chinese buffet with a good friend and had a great meal. It was all fun and games until I opened that god-forsaken fortune cookie at the end of the meal. Here it is (for your viewing pleasure, and my disgust).

I was floored. Not only did it berate me, it also let me know that I had to accept it. Who am I to say otherwise? Over the years I have come to accept the basic concept of what the cookie says. "Que Cera Cera, Whatever will be will be," it is reasonable enough. We are all small pieces to a large puzzle, I get that. But do we need to cram it down my throat? If, for example, I were a hot-head, hell-bent on changing everything, would this not compel me to prove the cookie wrong? "Who says it is meant to be?" I would ask. "Certainly not me, by god!" Then I would go about changing the situation by ANY means necessary. "I'll show you!" would become my new motto. "GODDAMN COOKIE!!!" I would encourage all like-minded citizens to take up arms and champion the cause for change. Do we really need any more goddamn zealots? Are we not trying to roll back such actions with the Department of Homeland Security?

I don't mind saying I was appalled by this cookie. I am forwarding this message to my local congressman (and I urge you to do the same). We need to stop these "FORTUNE" cookies in their tracks, before they can get their inflamatory message out to the masses.

Justice

I have to admit that it is a rare event when someone gets what is coming to them and justice is served. Man, was I excited to hear about the conviction of Warren Jeffs this morning. He is the fundamentalist whacko "prophet" of the Church of blah, blah, blah, of blah, blah, blah. He arranged the "marriage" of the 14 year-old girl to her 19 year-old cousin, against her will. Then she did the unthinkable. She protested. Apparently you are not allowed to do such things in this cult. You see, "Brother Jeffs" receives his messages from god, himself and, therefore, anything he says goes. Boy, is that convenient. Where can I buy some of that moxy? He seems to have gone to the Jim Jones School for Manipulation of the Weak-Minded, or possibly the David Koresh School of Let's-Arm-Ourselves-and-Make-a-Stand-Against-the-Government. I only wish Janet Reno could have stopped Jeffs in his tracks too. But, no, he was found guilty by a jury of his peers, so that will have to do.

Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes...

As I type this I am listening to my second revolution on the turntable of Pink Floyd's 1971 masterpiece, "Meddle". While nowhere near as commercial as the Wall, Wish You Were Here, or the Dark Side of the Moon, it is every bit as monumental in the development of the group's sound in the early 70s. With the departure of Syd in 1968, Roger became the "surrogate" head of the band, but at this time there was a lot of experimentation going on. The 23 minute, 31 second Opus - Echoes would become a staple of the group's live performances and give them a format to follow in future recordings. In fact, I (as well as many other Floyd afficionados) will tell you that Echoes does in 23 minutes what Dark Side of the Moon Does in 42. The dream-like lyrics are accompanied by soft, mellow, sounds that morph into a jazz-pop rhythm, then into a whale song interlude before returning to the main theme and fading out.

This really wasn't meant to be a record review, however. The above scan shows the remnants of the once proud facade of the Meddle album. The record itself is in a similar state. I bought it at the Valley View flea market in Brookfield Ohio, from a guy named Bob. I was looking through the dollar bin (most records were priced $3.00) and came across it. Meddle is hard to find in ANY condition on vinyl. I didn't care if it would play a note. I took it to the counter, HONORED to take it home in any condition (This is true. Some would argue that I need a life). Bob charged me a quarter (the same denomination that threatened our friend two posts ago!). A GODDAMN quarter for PINK FLOYD's MEDDLE!

Since then I have rinsed, sprayed with Windex, and "scrubbed" with a soft paint brush this album. There is a constant sizzle of static throughout the recording, but the skips are at a bare minimum. Keep in mind this record is scratched beyond recognition. The label on the disc is completely gone. It looks as though this album nearly floated away in a flood.


The introductory photo and this are all that remain of the water damaged sleeve, but GODDAMN if this beat up old piece of vinyl doesn't have a beautiful sound!

While I could leave my thoughts there, the whole idea of this "romantic" post was to lament the closing and DESTRUCTION of the Valley View flea market. The former muse became even more familiar with the afore mentioned Bob than I myself did and I took Mr. Rosenberg to the same location at least once or twice. I fondly recall an older gentleman by the name of Steve who had a European accent and also sold records. I told him of my journey to Branson Missouri and the Mickey Gilley concert I took in with the chief and every time I went back he had several albums reserved for me. I would pay him the couple bucks whether I needed the album or not. I hope to find these gentlemen at similar locations in the future. If not I wish them the best of luck, and I hope they can find an outlet to share their love of recorded sound with others that they shared with me.

Jena 6

After listening to the reports on this story I wanted to come home and write up some thoughts. Before I could get to the computer I received a somewhat heated phone call from a good friend who had been listening to the same reports and who, while fundamentally on the same side of the ISSUE, took exception to the coverage. I would like to outline my thoughts and then get your feedback.

Let me first say that I believe Don Imus got the shaft. Does he say things that he shouldn't? Yes. Does this make him a hate-filled bigot. No. If you listen to Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Michael Savage, Ann Coulter you will find hate-filled rhetoric and character assassination that hides behind the first ammendment. I don't challenge their right to broadcast what they broadcast and do from time to time enjoy the airwaves of the EIB network. My only point is that Imus' comment was stupid, childish, inappropriate and worthy of an apology,censure,fine, etc., but not the witch hunt that led to his departure.

Having said that, as I understand this story in Jena, there was an outside gathering on the school grounds. The one shaded area was normally occupied by a certain group of white students. One or more of the black students ASKED FOR PERMISSION to sit under the tree. They didn't want to cause trouble. They were given permission and sat with the white students (are we back in the 60s? Are we not past this?). The next day there were nooses hanging from said tree. The white student (or students) was given a 3 day suspension from school. Upon returning to school the "6" apparently beat him within an inch of his life and were charged with attempted murder. If these are not the facts, than I truly do not understand this case.

If the above is true than I say the attempted murder charge was probably little more than racism, and I am glad that the charges have been reduced to assault. Should this group be charged with assault? Of course they should. Was the beating justified? I say yes. When you live in Louisiana, two years out of Katrina where the Bush administration is still taking heat for their delay in responding to the needs of the poor black community, and race relations are strained, who in their right mind would think that hanging nooses on a tree would be a good idea?(nor would it ever be a good idea). Personally, I think the bastard is lucky he made it out alive. My guess is he won't be displaying such public hatred for any minority group any time soon. If I were a parent of the 6, I would be proud, having said that, you can't beat a person half to death and walk away unpunished. Working with the 11-14 age group, I know that when there is a fist fight, it is counted as assault and the authorities are called in, regardless of the kids' skin color (most of ours are white).

So I guess I don't understand the protest, and I know that was the purpose of the above-mentioned phone call. If people are there to show support of the 6, hell, I am with them. If they are saying that these kids did nothing wrong, they are fighting a losing battle.

For all those that fear change...

"Welcome disgruntled consumer. You have reached the Simpson's replacement box hoax, I mean hot-line,"
so I was greeted by Homer Simpson after dialing the 800 number on the insert I received with my season six of the Simpsons boxed set. To back up, season six was the first set they released in the new plastic Simpson's head style (this one is Homer's head). My first thought was, "that's crummy, it will throw the whole collection out of whack on the shelf,' and after speaking to a good friend in the retail business, he explained that it was crummy because this package would be more prone to theft.
I don't mean to diminish the season because there many classic episodes such as "Homer Bad Man" which features the gummy Venus de Milo and the "sweet, sweet can...", Bart vs. Australia in which instead of taking "the boot" as a punishment for international fraud Bart moons the nation with a message on his ass (to which Lisa says, "I'm amazed at how legibly you wrote on your own butt," Homie the Clown which is becoming my favorite episode of all time, and of course, Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part One)

At any rate when I first bought the set I didn't care for the packaging, but had to have the season. I didn't know that there were 2 versions. When I opened the box there was an insert that looked like this...

I heard from Homer in the message above and was directed to simpsonsbox.com. At the time I could not download the form to send in and didn't continue the transaction. After upgrading to DSL, I updated the system and downloaded the form. It began as this:

Welcome complainers, all those that fear change, and greedy people who like free stuff...

I then had to answer the following question:

Reason for wanting a new box:

Anal Retentive (box must be identical)
Lonely (will pretend box is new best friend)
Will sell new box to collector nerds for huge profit
Just like free stuff
Big Baby

Obviously it was number one. So I sent it in with the original receipt and a couple bucks for shipping and handling (at the same time I mailed in the Fall Guy rebate), and waited. Just as I started to think it was a hoax, the box arrived today. Those guys at Fox are OK.

...and the music played on

I begin this post with a respectful nod to Queen City Musings, which for certain political reasons, is no longer in existence. The Blogspot is a little less witty, and a little less informative, and a lot less cheerful today, and as we are now beginning Ramadan I think it is only fitting to cry out, "CURSE THE INFIDELS!!!" Were it not for said Muse this site would not be up and running, and I welcome his comments and even his postings if he would so grace us here.

I did have the chance to download the Steppin' Out video last night, and what a flashback. I was on the right track with my comments yesterday. What I had forgotten was that not only was Joe Jackson sitting in the lonely hotel room while the busy city went on without him, but so too did the chamber maid dream of Stepping Out as she made up the room of the well-to-do woman, dancing around while holding up a borrowed evening gown. While not melancholy, the song and the video both have a bitter-sweet feel, and the Jazz/Pop sound of it and the Night and Day album rank it, at least in my mind, somewhere near Steely Dan's Aja.

and the band wore blue shirts...

I got reacquainted with an old friend last week and have been meaning to sit down and write about it but just haven't. Most of you are familiar with him, Joe Jackson. I have been a fan of Steppin' Out since it was released in 1982. I remember the video of him playing piano in that lonely room. There was always something haunting about it. It takes place in New York City where millions of people are buzzing around but here was this musician sitting by himself with his music. He sings about stepping out into the night with a significant other but does the exact opposite (at least as far as memory serves, I have tried to download the video but have only gotten the beginning clip. I haven't seen it in 20 some years.) Steppin' Out is the centerpiece to the album Night and Day, the fifth album and the one that would define his style. 1997 was the year that I began to revisit Joe Jackson after that initial fascination in the early 80s. Look Sharp! and I'm the Man were his first two albums. They had catchy tunes and were done in the New Wave Pop/Punk style. I borrowed the records from my uncle and recorded them on Maxell (or was it Memorex?) tapes and vividly remember listening to them back and forth from my hometown of Sharon, PA, to my then new residence of Athens, OH, a 4 hour drive. In those early days I often had company in the car. Shortly thereafter I would be making the journey by myself. I remember several nights being in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of wine, making dinner for two, and listening to Night and Day. As 97 became 98 the song Breaking Us In Two seemed to be hitting closer and closer to home. Goddamn! How did he know?

As 98 became 99 I left, and then returned to the Athens area. At that time I would be making Zatarain cajun rice as dinner for one and listening to the Body and Soul album from 1984.

"Did you do me right? Did I do right by you? When I bared my soul it seemed you did not hear. Can this be true?"

Again, I was amazed at how he knew just what I was feeling, and experiencing.

By the way, remember the Public Defender on Night Court who did a season before Markie Post? Ellen Foley. She does back up vocals on this album.

At any rate, we were in 1999 and Joe Jackson had been releasing several new albums including Symphony No. 1 and even wrote an autobiography of his early years. Turns out he was a geeky music major too. I could really relate to this guy. Then came Night and Day II in 2000. It was, again, haunting and lonely but very much a sincere, heartfelt masterpiece. I drank many a beer listening to it. The album cover is even more haunting today. It shows Joe through the rearview mirror of a New York taxicab heading toward the World Trade Center (I intentionally did not write this yesterday).



Well, to wrap this ramble up, I moved on and listened to other things. I made some positive changes and lost a major portion of the gloom and self-pity. Unfortunately I always associated Joe Jackson with those "Dark Ages" and while I never lost interest or the love of his music, I chose not to listen to it. Night and Day, however has been creeping back into rotation on my turntable and now into the iPod, as well. I have since imported Look Sharp!, I'm the Man, Summer in the City, and so on. I listened to these on that same 4 hour trip back to Sharon, PA this past weekend and all I can say is, "Welcome back. I missed you!"

"Betray-Us"

Well the much awaited report by General Petraeus came out today. Funny how he gave a disclaimer saying that all of the following words were his own. Well, of course they were, General. Who else would they belong to? (certainly not the law-abiding open-door administration that you are reporting for.) Anyway, at least he suggested a draw down in 30,000 troops by summer 2008. I guess that's a start. To be honest I am really not concerned by the vaccuum that would be created by our immediate withdrawal, nor the answer to that loaded question "are you going to tell all the families of men who died that they died for nothing?" These people are smarter than the public gives them credit for. They are well aware of what was accomplished by the loss of 3800 troops:

"We Got HIM!" Yeah!!!!

Funny how this administration can redefine and expand their powers, getting around any and every obstacale in their way, but they just couldn't get around that whole "Anti-Assassination" thing put into place by of all presidents, Gerald Ford.

Mr. Rosenberg, Mr. Rosenberg

At the request of my good friend, Sol, I went to the Simpsons Avatar generator and came up with this likeness. I hope it does him justice. I would, however, like to see his own interpretation of himself, myself, and possibly the QCM. I tried to create one of Tony but could not capture his likeness.

I. too, am returning from a weekend away. My mother and I watched the movie "Breach" last night. It tells the story of how Eric O'Neill began working for, and ultimately causing the downfall of Robert Hanssen. Hanssen was a member of the FBI for 25 years but was found to be leaking information to the Russians. I very much enjoyed the story but would like to do some fact checking. The movie suggested that O'Neill brought down the worst spy in American history. I remember following the story as it unfolded in 2001, and it may just be that the government was covering its tracks and not letting out too much information out at the time, or it could be that the writers/directors were taking creative license. I don't recall him being such a "powerful" figure in those old reports. Maybe my memory is failing. Any ideas?

SpringGarf

Having visited the Simpsons Avatar creation site I decided to post a Springfield self-portrait.

That takes care of that.

George W. Boob

I was just visiting the Queen City Muse's page and re-read an exchange I had with a mysterious "person" who goes by Kirby. Tony had posted a farewell to Alberto Gonzales to which I added some colorful commentary on his performance as Attorney General. Kirby accused me of hating all conservatives and requiring professional therapy. This may be true. I certainly could use some counseling in the area of undying support of George W. Bush. I honestly do not understand it. Everything we said about him since 1999 has been proven true. He is incompetent. He does not have the best interests of America in mind. He cares only about the Bush family and people with whom they do business. He is arrogant, smug, and snickers at us whenever he delivers an address to the public as if to say "I may not be the smartest cow-poke, but I know something you don't know."

Yes, I am an admitted "Bush Hater". There is no getting around that. My hatred died down somewhat after the 2004 election because John Kerry was even less competent. He allowed himself to be manipulated by the right-wingers and the media and was made to look like a villain by his fellow Vietnam Vets. While Bush did not deserve a second term, this guy fucked himself as well as the rest of us. John Kerry will burn in hell.

I have done all I could do. I registered Republican in 2000 and voted for John McCain. He was moderate, honest, and sensible. Apparently that's not what the party was looking for.

Let me also say that while I did vote for Bill Clinton in 1992, I did not vote for him in 1996. I could not vote for Bob Dole who in every appearance sold himself as a bitter old man who was out of touch with every aspect of American life, but I decided that if that was America's choice I would be OK with it. So while a democrat, I don't think I am blinded by party lines and I tend to lean to the middle.

At any rate this has rambled on long enough. Please tell me why you still defend George W. Boob. I honestly do not understand.

"When a body meets a body..."

When I first heard a report on the "Bodies" exhibition on NPR I was hooked. I couldn't wait until it was brought somewhere near me so I could see it. My first glimpse came in the newest James Bond movie "Casino Royale" which came out about a year ago. Today I got to experience it firsthand at the Easton Market in the Greater Columbus Ohio area. I know there was a controversy over whether or not the exhibition of dissected, flayed, and posed human beings was morally right or wrong and I know there are people who would stop it if they could. All I can give is my own take on how it affected me physically and emotionally.

I must admit that when I got in line for the ticket I didn't think my stomach could handle what I was in for. My friend Tony seemed to have the same thought. He said, "we probably shouldn't have eaten right before we came here". I think its fair to say that the hardest part was getting into the first room and standing face to face with the bones, musculature, and EYES of the first cadaver. Throughout the exhibit that was the one thing that bothered me. I understand why it was done, and I do not question it, but God-Damn it was unnerving to see those eyes without eyelids screaming at me like a horror movie. That made the experience real. There was no escaping the fact that this person once stood among us (the living) but does so no more. The little feet and hands also drove this point home (what did they create in their short time?). I was very much humbled by the experience. As gruesome and macabre as some could say this display is, it is very much grounded in reality. For all our outward differences, break us down to the basics and it is all the same. These people have simply completed the cycle. I don't mind mentioning that my eyes are watering as I type this.

I heard the argument that it is disrespectful to take the body of a once living person and pose them with a basketball as if they were in a Gatorade commercial, minus the skin (and the dignity). I am no sports fan (band geek, dungeons and dragons player, etc.) but the poses were tastefully animated; they showed the body in action, what it looks like to actually use those muscles. Each and every pose was dignified and beautiful in an aesthetic way. I took out my sketchbook when I got to the display of the heart. When is the next time I will be able to draw from an actual human heart without harvesting it myself?

One display that I simply bypassed was the fetuses/babies. I did look into the liquid containers that held the different stages of human embryos, but when I saw the shapes of the little skeletons after the first trimester and the full sized infants, I moved on. While I could indulge my morbid curiosity about a full grown being, it was simply too much to consider the loss of such a little person. This may make me sound like a conservative, but I can assure you this is not the case. I understand that we live in a gray world (not clear cut black and white) and that there are issues and elements beyond our control that force people to make life altering (ending) decisions, and I hope I am not put in that position. I do not believe that it is in our best interest as a nation to hunt these people down and condemn them to death (as some zealots would, at the same time they try to eliminate the welfare system) but, on an afternoon of discovery, and just hanging out with a friend, I could not bring myself to face such issues.

I think it is safe to say that my companion did not have the same experience in the exhibition that I had. It just wasn't "his thing", and it may not be yours either, but if you can believe the observations of a hopeful cynic, I think that you will find the "Bodies Exhibition" to be a very rewarding experience.

Don't Blame Me, I voted for Kodos

Monday night, 27 August 2007 4:30-6:00 pm I welcomed a new addition to the family. Kang makes my tenth tattoo. i have wanted to get a Simpsons tattoo for the longest time but could never settle on a design. I have seen countless Bart tattoos and have not been impressed by one of them, nor the Homers etc. Well, two weeks ago before leaving for a trip to the Outer Banks, NC I stopped at a Burger King for a fish sandwich. They were selling Simpsons merchandise to promote the movie so I bought a talking Homer. The food came in a bag that had characters from the show all over it. There were Kang and Kodos out in front. I decided then and there what my next tattoo would be. While not my favorite characters (that honor goes to Krusty and Clancy- neither one of them suited for their professions of clown and cop) they are certainly quirky and are done in the unmistakable Matt Groening style. Kang fits in well next to Hunter S. Thompson, and my interpretation of Giacometti's, "the Nose".

I'm sure it will not be my last. Let me say that I have gotten 7 tattoos from Art Apocalypse in Athens Ohio and 4 of them from Chad. He does excellent work, as do the other artists.

Fall Guy Rebate

On July 4th of this year I was in the Tri-County Mall in Cincinnati Ohio with my two good friends the Queen City Muse and his regular contributor, Sol Rosenberg. After price-checking several sources for the DVD release of the first season of The Fall Guy with Lee Majors and Heather Thomas I settled on the 6 disc set for $36.99 at FYE owned by Transworld, the former employer of one such good friend. As I was getting the receipt the clerk said, "and here is your rebate for $27.00". I took two steps, looked at Tony and asked if I heard that correctly. He had the same reaction I did. I returned to the counter and asked the clerk. He replied that I had heard correctly and if I followed the directions I would get the $27.00 that would bring the total cost of the set to $9.99. When I returned home I did the paperwork and mailed it in. I shortly thereafter received an e-mail confirming that Transworld had received my rebate request and would process accordingly.

Today, not two months later, I received the check. I used it to buy one of those pricey clear plastic ipod covers. While too expensive for my money, this one was on Transworld.

The Nose

I begin this entry with a scan of one of my all-time favorite drawings based on my favorite sculpture of all time. The subject is "The Nose" by Alberto Giacometti. It was done in 1947 (the year my mother was born) and is made of bronze (the figure), twine, and an open cube made of iron from which the figure is suspended. As I type this the drawing (black ballpoint pen, black ink wash and coloured pencils) is three years old. I made it in August of 2004 when I had the opportunity to go back to the Hirsch Horn Gallery in Washington D.C.

Giacometti's sculptures are beautiful, in an odd sort of way. While his human figures have realistic features, the proportions are often exaggerated through stretching. Normal looking torsos and arms will often be coupled with very long legs. Perhaps my favorite aspect of these sculptures is the tactile surface of them. There is no question that these beings were pinched, shaped and given life by very skilled, very human hands. They are often very rough with bumps and impressions left in the surface.

I have since resized this drawing and gotten it tattooed on my right upper calf. It is part of a growing band of different, yet similar designs around my leg. Its neighbors are a charicature of the late Hunter S. Thompson by Ralph Steadman, a cave drawing of a Scrab from the Oddworld series of games, and a Bone Cannon from the original Nintendo version of Castlevania. I am looking to close the sleeve with Kang (or Kodos) of Simpsons fame.

Any suggestions?

23 August 2007