Leon: Still Hot

That's right, Ladies and Gents. Leon, the Most Popular Jawa on Tatooine, is still in demand. Recent searches for him have come from Sacramento, Montreal, an unspecified location in the United States (thanks, Mr. Cheney) and... The Houston Chronicle.

Yeah, you heard me.

Just so there's no confusion, let me say once and for all...

Leon is available for interviews.

But you'll have to accommodate his schedule. After all, he's The Most Popular Jawa on Tatooine.

Peace out.

Rob

Hush, Hush.

Kevin Drum provides a frightening rundown of free-speech issues here and abroad. When I heard about the killing of Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya last week, it sent chills up my spine.

Rob

The Force Is Strong In This One

Okay, I’ve been outguyed by my own wife.

The other night, Kathy was watching the Rangers get beaten 6-5 by the Pittsburgh Penguins. After the game ended, Kathy said “They’re gonna take Lundquist out and put Weeks in next game.” (They’re both goalies, by the way.) Sure enough, Kathy starts watching the game tonight, and lo and behold, that’s just what happens. Granted, that probably wasn’t a very hard call to anyone who follows hockey. But while I’ve watched baseball games and known what a certain player would do (bunts, intentional walks, that sort of thing), I’ve never known what a coach would do for the next game down the road. So my hat’s off to you, curlyhead.

The other interesting thing in this whole incident is that I just can’t get it through my head that Lundquist’s first name is Henrik. I keep thinking it’s “Jedi.” What’s even more amazing is, I know why.

Years ago, my friend Chris brought over a quiz of 100 rock lyrics for us to identify. We got most of them (although “My middle name is Earl” has begun haunting me again every Thursday night at 8), and I wanted to try my hand at a similar quiz. But mine would have a twist so complicated that I would never actually complete the thing.

My quiz wasn’t going to be the lyrics themselves, but homophones of the lyrics. (Apparently they're called mondegreens.) In other words, if the question was “The girl with colitis goes by,” the answer would be “The girl with kaleidoscope eyes,” from “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” by The Beatles. (I’d seen a standup comic talk about this as a routine, although the book 'Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy hadn’t come out yet.) And one of my misheard lyrics was “Jedi Lungfish, Darla Mae.” And somehow, I’ve come to associate Jedi Lungfish with Henrik Lundquist.

So there you have it: Why I Am Crazy In This One Very Particular Way.

Oh, the lyric? I figure I’ll hold off and see if anyone guesses it in the next couple of days.

Rob

An "Artist Friendly" Video

I'm way down in the hole with Archimedes today, but check out this video by a pre-South Park Trey Parker and Matt Stone. It's 14 minutes long, but it's a stone riot and well worth your time. Instead of embedding this one, I'm referring you to Mark Evanier, since he gives it much-needed context.

Take it away, Mark.

Rob

And now, please stand

I listened to What's Going On today, but my mp3 player was playing the tracks out of order, so I had to keep consulting the CD jacket in order to get them right. So I took a few minutes to relabel the tracks to put them in their proper order, and since the CD was downstairs, I went to allmusic.com. While I was there, I spent a little time looking over Marvin Gaye's biography, and I read about this performance, singing the national anthem at the 1983 NBA All-Star Game. It's his last public appearance, and just sublime.

Enjoy.



Rob

Liar's Poker

Playing Nat’s game, her Thursday Thirteen. Thirteen of these things are true. One is a lie.

1. I knew a guy in high school who worshipped Thor. No, make that two guys.
2. I’ve got an ugly scar on my elbow from a skateboarding accident.
3. I like to add a little brown mustard to the classic tuna fish/mayo recipe.
4. The Flash is my favorite superhero, but Fables is my favorite comic.
5. I’ve got a tiny hole on the palm of my right hand that I can always peel skin away from. I call it my stigmata.
6. I saw a barracuda when snorkeling a few years ago.
7. My favorite Mel Brooks film is Young Frankenstein, but I’ve seen History of the World, Part I more often.
8. I’ve owned more ferrets than any other type of pet.
9. The trunk of my car leaks like it’s telling state secrets to Bob Novak.
10. I still haven’t removed two of our house’s window air conditioning units.
11. I prefer iced tea to just about any other drink. If it’s good iced tea, that is.
12. My parents considered naming me “Dean.” Or that’s what they once told me.
13. From where I’m sitting right now I can see two animal skulls.
14. Taj Mahal’s In Progress and Motion is probably the best CD box set I own, but Richard Thompson’s Watching the Dark comes close.

Any guesses?

Rob

One of US!

My baby really gets me. A Sin City boardgame, Marvin Gaye's What's Goin' On, and a DVD of Tod Browning's Freaks as birthday gifts? Man, does she get me.

Rob

Column A or Column B?

Thought you might need a palate cleanser after that Styx video. Here's some live Eric Schwartzy goodness, with some help from his friends. Funny stuff.



Rob

Biting my nails...

I just switched over to Blogger Beta. Expect to see a few changes around here as I spruce the place up a bit. But right now I'm mostly hoping I can still do all the things I used to be able to.

Rob

UPDATE: Okay, one change right now. See this label underneath my post? Click it and it'll select similar posts. I'm going to eventually go back and label old posts, but I took care of a bunch of recent ones already. I've always wanted this capability, ever since I first learned to ride a bike.

UPDATE UPDATE: Man, I'm loving this. I've got about 100 posts catalogued.

Can't.... look... away...

In the comments below, Chris expressed an interest in getting "fair and balanced" with the Kilroy controversy, and letting Dr. Righteous have his due. The video for Styx's "Heavy Metal Poisoning" is a bit more lively than the "Mr. Roboto" video, but no less creepy. As I was seeing Dr. Righteous lurk over that poor kid, I couldn't help but think of Mark Foley.

Which made what came next all the more horrible.

So here it is, another reason to pluck out your eyes and feed them to snakes:



I warned you.

Rob

Habeas Corpse

Keith Olbermann on the death of Habeas Corpus. Funny on the surface, heartbreaking at its core.



Rob

Mira. Escuche.

Spanish is the language of the kitchens in New York, and possibly all over. I read that in Anthony Bordain’s terrific memoir Kitchen Confidential, and it certainly is true wherever I stop to get breakfast on my way to work.

And it makes me happy. The other day, I was buying a sandwich at a bodega. I brought my sandwich (bag o’ chips and can o’ cream soda included) to the counter, where two people were ringing things up on the cash registers. My sandwich wasn’t wrapped quite right, so my cashier rewrapped it—but not before getting the other one’s attention to show him how it’s done. “Mira,” she said. Look.

Both of these people were Korean. But they were still using Spanish to communicate. I love this country, this city—anywhere that lets cultures mix it up and surprise me.

The next time you’re getting lunch, escuche. Listen.

Rob

Arrgh! That Purple Jumpsuit!

Thinking about the 80s, I stumbled across the Batman TV show of music videos: Styx's "Mr. Roboto." What strikes me most about watching it now is how little the other band members are in this. I think as a kid, I thought they were in the Mr. Roboto suits, but those were probably dancers. Or derelicts. Or even genuine racial-stereotypotrons imported from Japan. I think any of those possibilities is more likely than Dennis DeYoung convincing JY and the other guys to carry him around like a group of robot cheerleaders.

A word of warning. You're really only gonna want to watch this once.



Rob

Yes, I Completely Forgot The Police

Another Tell It To Me Tuesday, another Tuesday when I’m Telling It:

First off, I should mention what’s apparent to anyone who knows us: I’m not as cool as my wife. While she was listening to all sorts of new wave and off-the-beaten-path music in the 80s, I was listening just around the edges of what everyone else was listening to.

Also, I didn’t stop listening to my 70s bands when the odometer flipped on the decade. Hell, I just started listening to my own music around 78-79, and the Cars were just getting started. But I’m not listing any of them here, just the same (well, aside from one cheat*).

So here they are – my top 10 eighties bands, in no particular order.

1. Joe Jackson: I lied about no particular order. This guy rules my musical Olympus. Like Zeus, he changes from rock to classical to jazz to a swan. Unlike a lot of artists, he’s not making the same album over and over – each one is a brand new experience. And if I still think Look Sharp! is his best album, it’s no reflection on him or his talents: it’s just that I was 14 when I heard it, and it makes me feel like I’m fourteen wanting to be nineteen every time I’ve heard it since. I play this loud in my car every summer.

2. Elvis Costello: Okay, everyone seemed to put Elvis Costello in the 70s lists, and I couldn’t figure out why (and was too lazy to look him up). Turns out My Aim is True was released in 1977 and I’m a total wanker for not knowing that. I first heard him in the 80s, playing a cassette of that album over and over again on the way to the beach with my friends Mike, Anita and Evelyn. It sounded so fresh to me I thought it was brand new. Since it’s too late to shoehorn him into his proper decade (not that he didn’t produce some great work in the 80s), I’m putting him here.

I’ve gotta make these shorter.

3. Cyndi Lauper: I like her more in retrospect than I did at the time, I have to admit. You really never knew what she was going to say or do next. She bop? And she put Steve Forbert in her first video!

4. Steve Forbert: Yeah, there’s “Romeo’s Tune” (or, as it’s better known, the “Meet Me in the Middle of the Day Song"), but Forbert is an amazing songwriter that gets less than a hundredth of the acclaim he deserves. Alive on Arrival is a great album, but his Streets of this Town wasn’t a bad way to close out the decade. “The nineteen seventies was ten long years, ten long years to sing a song. It kicked off madly with a New Year's cheer. I blinked once and it was gone.” I like Steve so much he bumped the Talking Heads. Someone cooler’n me will have to pick up the slack.

5. Nik Kershaw: Everyone I’ve ever met with whom I’ve talked about Nik Kershaw is amazed that someone else remembers Nik Kershaw. I listened to Human Racing until the heads on my walkman wore down – and even loved the awful songs (like “Cloak & Dagger”).

6. Rick Springfield: Now here’s a guy who doesn’t get enough credit. A friend of mine (hey Chris!) made up a compilation cassette of his hits (way more than you remember) and lesser known songs a few years after his star had faded a bit. Without the glimmer of being an MTV darling, two things are clear: one, the man knew his way around a hit record, and two, he had a vocabulary that wouldn’t quit. I still can’t hear the word “acquiesce” without thinking of him, and those two souls, looking for heaven, rolling the dice, looking for a seven.

7. Men at Work: These guys are well-known for their goofy songs like “Down Under,” but I don’t think they get enough credit for the poignance that many of their tunes have. Not just the better-known stuff like “It’s a Mistake,” but odd little tunes like “Helpless Automaton” struck me as having an emotional core, even if it’s about a kid who thinks he’s a robot.

8. Weird Al: On the other hand, Weird Al just goes for the goofy, and he’s still remarkably good at it. The eighties were his heyday, but he hasn’t missed a step. (And parody is a much tougher job now that the Top 40 has splintered into a dozen or more different charts.)

9. Violent Femmes: When I first heard this band in high school, I had no idea anyone else had ever heard of them—let alone what kind of touchstone their first album would be for my generation. Resolutely antiglamorous, it kicks the holy crap out of Duran Duran.

10. The Clash: In the eighties, I really just knew “Rock the Casbah” and “Train in Vain.” I was an ignorant laddie. I don’t care if it was released in 1979, London Calling is one of the best albums ever, and it makes the list. Wrong ’em, boyo.

11. Chris DeBurgh: A guilty pleasure. Before hitting the lottery on “The Lady in Red,” DeBurgh wrote much cooler stuff than how much he really really really loves you. He had songs about vampires (“Ecstasy of Flight”), stranded boats (“Ship to Shore”), the Cold War (“Borderline,” “Moonlight and Vodka”) and, of course, the journey to the land of the dead (“Don’t Pay the Ferryman.”) And then “The Lady In Red” happened and he suddenly forgot he grew up watching Dark Shadows and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Ah, well.

That’s eleven. Whaddya think, sirs?

Rob
*I lied about the cheat. The Traveling Wilburys didn't make the cut.

Get Back To Where You Once Belonged

Sharon's back at The Center of New Jersey Life, so go visit her. Consequently, my drivel will once again be confined to these pages.

Rob

Hic!

I had the hiccups something fierce after lunch. But Paul Harris's guaranteed hiccup remedy made them go away on the first try.

I don't know about guaranteed, but I can report that it worked for me.

Rob
(Cross-posted at The Center of New Jersey Life.)

Stupid AND Stubborn

Looks like we may be getting a second helping of Brownie:

President Bush reserved the right to ignore key changes in Congress's overhaul of the Federal Emergency Management Agency -- including a requirement to appoint someone with experience handling disasters as the agency's head -- in setting aside dozens of provisions contained in a major homeland security spending bill this week.

And we've got 28 more months of following this fool down whatever blind alley he wants to lead us.

Rob

Clockworks Broken Down

I'm sorry to hear that the production of A Clockwork Orange I mentioned here has been postponed. I'm not sure what happened; the mailing list I'm on said the production was dealt a "sudden and temporarily debilitating blow." I have high hopes that the show will go on in mid to late winter.

Rob

Innuendo?

Hoo!

Rob

Great Moments in Class Clownery

I was thirteen or fourteen, and the first congressional page sex scandal of my lifetime – the one back in 1982-83 – was still fresh in everybody’s mind. We were on a field trip with our gifted studies class – to Hawk Mountain, I think, but I could be wrong. (I do know that our teacher loved birdwatching, so fitting some biology and ecology into the curriculum in a way that would let her glass the skies was right up her alley.)

It was a lengthy bus ride, and we were high school kids, so we were loud and rowdy pretty much the whole way up. As we approached the mountain’s education center, Dr. Taylor handed out study sheets while we kept talking. Finally she said sternly to quiet us down: “For the next ten minutes, I don’t want to hear anything but the sounds of pages.”

And the guy who shouted “Oh! Oh! Mister SENATOR!” and cracked everyone up? That was me.

Hell, I made the teacher laugh at that one.

Rob