Tumescence 4

I heard these guys on the radio yesterday. All I can say is that we should have stopped Nickelback while they themselves were still in the larval stage.

If you haven’t heard them, imagine the dreck pseudo-hard-rock of Nickelback combined with the songwriting of a new country band, complete with the cheesy lyrics of both elements.

Anyone remember when good bands came out of Canada?

Sometime in 1983, this conversation happened at Columbia Records (events dramatized):

Record Exec: “OK boys, we’re gonna need a video for ‘Separate Ways,’ so I called Marty in to talk concepts. He’s the best.”

Marty (Video producer): “I have a vision. I want you gentlemen to realize… my vision. That is a vision of you… the band… on a wharf.”

Anonymous member of Journey: “Uhhhm…”

Marty: “… and on that wharf is where you are trying to pick up the pieces of a broken heart and come to terms with lost love.”

Anonymous member of Journey: “OK, so there’s some big stage on this wharf, and we’re…”

Marty: “No stage.”

A.M.o.J.: “OK, so the wharf is the stage, and we’re playing our instruments to…”

Marty: “No instruments.”

A.M.o.J.: “Errrruh…”

Marty: “No stage. No instruments, not even a crowd. Just you and your pain. Maybe a keyboard, but definitely pain. And some choreography.”

A.M.o.J.: “Oh, so it’s like we’re goofin’ around playing air guitar and…”

Marty: “No! This vision has no goofing. You are in pain. Your hearts are broken. Broken in two.”

A.M.o.J.: “Two?”

Marty: “Two! And people will know this by the serious looks on your faces. There will be lots of cuts with closeups of you — all of you — looking into the camera as you play what would be your instruments.”

[A long pause with lots of staring among the band.]

Journey: “Let’s do it.”

Record Exec: “Did I mention he’s the best?”

Posting this by request, and because I feel the same way…

Men should not hug as a greeting, unless one or more of the following apply:

1. Hug recipient is a relative whom you don’t seen that often.
2. Hug recipient Is a really close friend that you haven’t seen in a VERY long time.
3. Hug recipient saved your life (literally) at some point.
4. Hug recipient just offered to pick up your bar tab.

Otherwise, let’s leave it at a handshake before things start getting out of hand, OK?

I find it very creepy to see adult scout leaders dressed like their Boy Scout Troop. The shirt and neckerchief is bad enough, but when they throw in the shorts it compounds the creepiness almost exponentially. Dude, if you’re that hard up to wear a uniform (and no, the chicks don’t dig it), join the National Guard, a hockey team, a bowling league, T.G.I.Fridays — anything that doesn’t make you look like a 6th grader with a serious pituitary issue. By donning that BSA uniform, you put yourself just below those mothers who dress like their daughters. I’ll leave that one for some other post.

One thing that I was oblivious of as a kid that now puzzles me is the concept of a cartoon laugh track. Laugh tracks are rare if non-existent in TV today, but look at shows from 25+ years ago and they were prevalent. And I’m borderline OK with that. But they were pervasive to the point of adding them to animation. (Listen to any ’70s Hanna-Barbera cartoon.) I don’t know what bothers me more about it — that the creators were so lousy that they couldn’t animate characters to be funny to the point of obvious, or that we’re expected to believe there was some ethereal audience reacting right at the point where Scooby stole Shaggy’s sandwich.

Back when I was growing up (pausing here for your witty barbs), my friends and I would go to the mall to hang out, waste time, look at girls, buy stupid stuff, get out of the house, etc. And at the mall, it was inevitable that you’d see ice cream plopped on the floor. Sometimes it was a dollop, sometimes an entire full scoop, or you’d even see the whole shootin’ match splayed on the floor, cone and all. What made it really stand out was that this mall had a dark brown tile floor, so the brightly-colored ice cream could be spotted from about 50 paces. Seventy-five if it was mint chocolate chip. Read the rest of this entry »

People who know me would expect me to say that the best late night talk show is The Late Show with David Letterman. But actually, I consider Charlie Rose to be the best talk show on TV - late night or otherwise.

Now I love Dave and have been a fan of his show about as long as he’s been on the air. For a stretch of years, I even recorded every night’s show to watch the next evening when I’d have to be up early for school or work (back when he was on at 12:30). But if you want good legitimate talk, the kind where you actually have a conversation and exchange of ideas, Charlie’s the ticket. I mean, look at the set — a table a couple chairs, and a black background. That there alone says “we’re here to get down to business.” Read the rest of this entry »

I shake my head these days when I hear rock ballads or listen to interviews about how hard it is to be on the road as a musician. Growing up, I’d hear lyrical tales about cities blurring together. About sleeping on the tour bus as it rolled down the highway at 4am. About having to muster the energy to pull the same show off night after night. In MTV interviews (back before it became an outlet for reality TV), I’d hear guys say stuff like “I haven’t been home in so long I forgot what my girlfriend looks like.” Or “after two months, you get sick of hotel rooms.” “Wow,’ teenage Mike would say to himself. “Those guys are really paying their dues.” Read the rest of this entry »