Schedule

Fri 1: 9-5
Sun 3: 11-5
Mon 4: 5-cl
Wed 6: 9-5
Thur 7: 10-5
Sat 9: 9-5

We Still Love You, Blind Lemon Kermit

Ready to download Audio Junk: Da Mothership? Cuz it's LAAAANDED! Featuring Grandmaster Flash, Prince, Guns 'N Roses, Chocolate Snow Band, plus clips from Five, The Boatniks, and more. Check it, yo... LIVE every Tuesday night at 8pm EST on randomradioonline.net, and pre-recorded for CTIRADIO.com at 7pm EST. Whatever works for YOU!

Fun With Existential Dilemma

Co-worker Miranda and her handful of paint pens.

First 20 tracks on my iTunes sitting here recalling that day we played with paints in the back offices at my store.

1. "Black Jacks" - Girl Aloud
2. "Very Happy" - Stew
3. "Dickie Boys" - Kepone
4. "Apeman" - The Kinks
5. "99 Luftballons" - Nena
6. "Black Water" - The Doobie Brothers
7. "Alienation" - Citizen Fish
8. "What Have You Done?" - Naomi Shelton & The Gospel Queens
9. "Everlasting Love" - Rufus & Chaka Khan
10. "Weather Four" - Michael Gordon
11. "Chitlins & Cuchifritos" - Joe Thomas
12. "New Amsterdam" - Elvis Costello
13. "Gary Gilmore's Eyes" - The Adverts
14. "The Passenger" - Siouxsie & The Banshees
15. "Dust My Broom" - Rising Sons
16. "She's A Mover" - Big Star
17. "That Obscure Object Of Desire" - San Serac
18. "Mr. Roboto" - Styx
19. "Dead Mongoloid Loser" - The Illuminoids
20. "Come Sail Away" - Styx

Nautical But Nice

When Joe first signed us up for Netflix, he asked our friend Mike what movie he would recommend us to first put in our queue. "The Boatniks!" he exclaimed, without hesitating. Whether or not he was being sarcastic at the time was hard to tell, but Joe went ahead and added it anyway, being that he had never seen it before. The poor, poor thing.

I, on the other hand, practically grew up with the madcap Disney picture, back when the local Great Bridge movie theater (now a hip-hop club) ran a lot of Disney flicks during the summer afternoon matinees, where it was close enough for us as kids to walk to every day. And although Mike hasn't seen it since it first opened in the theaters in 1970, I haven't seen nor even thought about the movie since my last viewing back in 1980 when my 6th grade elementary school turned their cafeteria into a makeshift movie theater and ran the film one Friday night. Mike only remembers the theme song, which certainly due to Disney diligence isn't available anywhere on the net, but he reminded me that it went something like "doot-doot doo-dee-doot-doot-doot-dee-doo-doo... BOOOOOAT-NIIIIIKS!" in a deep bass voice perhaps redolent of a ship's horn, which I delighted in Mike recreating (from memory!) for me during brunch yesterday.

However, reliving the film yesterday for the first time in thirty years I was amazed at how little I remembered anything about what I once thought was one of the funniest movies I'd ever seen at the tender age of, uh, eleven or twelve. Only two things seized me with instant recognition. The scene where Stefanie Powers gets yellow paint dumped all over her head, and proceeds to bitch about it through half he film.

And most notably, the scene that made me laugh the hardest, when the submarine launches a loaf of lunch meat at the Coast Guard and it hits the hull of the ship with a fleshy "thud", and Don Ameche yells "It's a SALAMI!" in a pitch perfect combination of sound and sight gaggery that had me clutching my tummy with laughter like a giggling little girl.... back when I was a giggling little girl. I couldn't find that one isolated clip but you can savor that trademark Disney nuanced hilarity for yourself in the movie trailer below.



Other than that... holy heck, how did I ever think this movie was funny? But it has all the right elements for bringin' the funny! Norman Fell, people! Phil freakin' Silvers! Wally Cox as a dipsomaniac womanizer, in the role you always imagined that he could play! And... and Joe E. Ross, doing what... what Joe E. Ross is known for! But on a BOAT, dontchaknow! And... uh..... NORMAL FELL, you guys! Did you hear me the first time? NORMAN FELLLLLL?

But now at least I can argue with my mother from back when we used to watch Hart To Hart together and she tried to reassure me that Stefanie Powers had bad arm skin just like I do. Hate to break it to ya, ma, but I think it's just freckles. Lovely.... lovely.... frecklesssss.

Nothing New To See Here, Folks

I wish I knew where to turn, to get back in the zone again. My body, my health... everything feel so broken. I'm doing that "blackout" thing again like I did when I fell off the Weight Watchers wagon where I'd sort of mentally black out for a moment in a moment of stress and come to eating something that I would normally never put in my mouth, like a candy bar from the vending machine at work. Not even remembering putting the money in the machine or anything. I've gained so much weight since I got those stomach pains when fruits and veggies were hurting me so badly. I feel trapped in a cage, screaming my head off. My blood pressure is critical. My doctor thinks that I'm prime for a heart attack. Jesus Christ... I tried so hard. Every word out of her mouth makes me feel like a failure. I didn't want to go out to brunch today. Didn't want my friends to see the failure that I feel like inside. I know that's deeply self-conscious, but it's amazing how much one feels on the inside can reflect on the outside without our knowing.

I guess I need moments like these, on my blog, to encourage myself, because there isn't anything else in my life to turn to for help. Days like these I wish I could just go live in the woods or the mountains, alone, with no phones or internet or anything to keep me sedentary. And just hike every day. Swim in the lakes. Eat clean fruits and vegetables. Fish from the stream. Drink fresh spring water. Feel healthy. Feel alive. Feel like I can move my arms and legs before I get to where I can't anymore.

Sorry. Just gotta re-group. These thing happen.

R.I.P. Bea

Vague, twisted, nightmare-ish memories of childhood Christmases past will never be the same without you.

Got Your Stimulus Package Right Here

Any time I get the cooped-up/broke-ass/not-eating-right blues, there's nothing like a hot pre-summer day and a cashed state tax check to send me on a mini wilding spree. About as wild as I get these days, which isn't much. But I grow to miss the sunshine in the winter, and I crave fruits and swimming pools and Chinese folk music on the radio, so off I venture into my slowly dying Taurus into the world of instant gratification and cheap consumerism -- the kind that only $47 can get you. And nothing too far that will force me to waste that hard earned doe-rey-me on anything as frivolous as gas.

More than anything I was anxious to check out the organic store over at the farmer's market by my house, which for all the years that I've been going to the farmer's market I've never once noticed was there. Mostly because it's tucked away towards the back, but it's quite the cozy corner for those who want their basic organic staples without having to waste more gas trek all the way out to the Heritage every week. Plus all of the produce is locally grown, which I'm trying to give my money to more and more these days. And no, organic is not cheap. But I believe in the adage that you get what you pay for. Plus, if more people bought local organic produce, maybe the price would actually go down. I was really jonesing for watermelon, but I settled for bananas and some really good pre-made organic turkey salad for lunch. NOM.

Then I trotted across the street to the Books-A-Million book store, which I rarely frequent even though it's right behind my house, and it's considerably quieter than Barnes & Noble in every sense (although Books-A-Million's hot cocoa tastes more like hot caca). And they know how to vary up their graphic novels as well. And I got some new lit for my lunch breaks at work.

Kyle Baker's Nat Turner, a nearly wordless visual interpretation of the slave uprising. Having finally gotten into Baker's work after my visit to Austin I have been yearning for something new, and I've heard good things about this one. Also, well... it's not something I'm exactly proud of, and I'm still not even sure if it's accurate, but after recently researching our family tree my mother discovered that it was possible that her side of the family might have once owned Nat Turner at a certain point (as well as Dred Scott, who is more likely because my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Scott). So I'm looking forward to an intriguing re-telling, especially in Baker's distinct style.

And does anybody remember the guy that I had been talking about who was bringing in trunkloads of awesome rare out of print CDs? Welp, now he's back, only with his (gulp) DVD collection to sell! So far I've trembled with barely controlled cerebral orgasms as my hands ran across stack after stack of Criterion films, especially lots of Japanese chopsocky pictures like Lone Wolf And Cub, big honkin' Kurosawa box sets, and pretty much every flippin' Zatoichi film ever made, if you can wrap your bean around that. And then there's the music DVDs. Or just as exciting, the music-related DVDs. Including the one I finally managed to get for a measly five bones:

Alex Cox's 1987 cult classic Straight To Hell, which I had rented somewhat recently but up until then I had not seen since right around the time it was first released on VHS, back in late 1987 or early 1988, when I was still a freshman at Ferrum and Joe had this particular movie poster hanging on his dorm room door even though neither of us had seen the picture yet.

Filmed entirely in Spain, the movie features features some rather well-known actors like Sy Richardson, Xander Berkeley, and most notably Dennis Hopper, but also more known for its cavalcade of punk legends such as Joe Strummer (above, who has never looked foxier than he does in this flick -- MEOW!), Elvis Costello, every last one of the damn Pogues, and even a pre-fame Courtney Love, whom at the time I had mistaken for Chloe Webb, who had played Nancy Spungen in Alex Cox's previous film Sid & Nancy.

For what it's worth, I had read in Courtney Love's biography that Alex Cox was favoring Love for the part of Nancy Spungen, but the studio wanted Cox to go with a more seasoned actress (Courntey wound up playing Nancy's friend Gretchen in Sid & Nancy, a very minor role, but resume-worthy). Alex made it up to Courtney by putting her in the female lead for Straight To Hell, I gotta admit she was a trooper. Always thought she was a pretty decent actress. Ironic how I mistook her for Chloe Webb way back in '87 when I first saw her.

Anyway, I'm pleased as punch to have it at last. Who knows, it may wind up being another twenty years before I sit down and watch it again. But this time at least we won't mistake Courtney Love for Chloe Webb. Or Xander Schloss' "Karl The Wiener Boy" character as Elvis Costello and my friends cheering when he gets gunned down in the street. (okay, my friends really hated Elvis Costello back in the 80's).

If You Want It Here It Is Come And Get It

Yesterday morning I received this email from a local friend of mine:


As I was driving home from a friend's house this evening after a lovely dinner and less than lovely movie, I was flicking thru the radio stations as I always do...

92.1 for my nostalgia
93.7 for all the good stuff
96x for my harder stuff
98.7 (FM 99) a classic and a must
104.5 to see what the kids are up to
106.9 the Fox to hear what's new in the greatest hits of the Eagles
103 JAMZ for my hip hop fix
107 for my secret love of easy listening...

then I decided I wanted to kick out rock and roll for my short journey home so I switched to 100.5. A sure fire place to find some straight up rock and roll.

Well, I hit the #5 preset button to take me directly there and I kept hitting it because I knew something was amiss.

It was all Chinese music. I mean, full-on Chinese instruments and chords and Star Trek episodes.....

When I got home I went to the web site and sure enough they have changed their format...to ALL CHINESE music.

I am not kidding. I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone....

http://www.kungpao1005.com/index.php


And she wasn't kidding. Local rock station 100.5 FM has been playing traditional Chinese folk music since, well I'm not exactly sure, since I don't listen to radio. But I was cranking it yesterday on the drive to work and back just shaking my head and smiling the entire time. But my word... the bumpers in between songs are, um, perhaps a little bit "borderline", methinks. After every song you hear this synth blast and a guy using your typical macho rock radio inflection saying things like...

"Everybody's doing it! Jump on the rickshaw, it's KUNG PAO RADIO 100.5FM!"

"Everybody's talking about it down at the buffet... it's KUNG PAO RADIO 100.5FM!"

"Come on over to our house! But be sure to leave your shoes at the door... at KUNG PAO RADIO 100.5FM!"

I gotta admit, I kind of like the music. But of course, this is no doubt another punk'ing from a local radio station getting ready to change to some other kind of popular music format. The stations website cannot be possibly taken seriously. Although it is a mighty fine read:

"The preeminent club DJ in Cuba, Che's spun at some of the hottest discos in Venezuela, Kuala Lumpur, and Pyongyang"

Then again I would love to see DJ Che's rockin' North Korean collection of "The Greatest And Most Glorious Hits From Our Dear Leader Kim Jon-Il" Just picturing the cover right now.

Mike remembers the time when FM99, then our local AOR format station, went for 48 hours playing every available cover version of "Louie Louie" (Mike still has the promotional button from that time that has the words "Louie Louie" with the "NO" circle-and-cross over it). And I'll never forget New Years Eve 1993 when the same station played "Hey Jude" and "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" back-to-back for a day and a half with very little commercial interruption, and zero explanation until around noon the next day when they announced that they would stop being so predictably AOR-ish, or something like that. That night Joe, Goofy Steve and I stayed up playing board games (actually mixing various pieces from multiple board games to make up our own game) listening to those two songs play over and over again, thinking something was going to be revealed at midnight of the new year. See what people are willing to sit through to in order to get to the bottom of things? I think Kung Pao Radio is banking on stupid people like myself to go the distance for a repetitive joke. And here, sixteen years later, I'm still dumb enough to do it.

Haven't tuned in yet today, but the website is still going. I rather hope it sticks around. I just might start listening to radio again.

EDIT: Just talked to Big Kev on the phone this afternoon, and he saw in the trades that 100.5 is becoming a "classic rock" station come Monday. Should I start my own one-woman picket line in front of the station already?

Schedule

Fri 24: 4-cl
Mon 27: 5-cl
Tue 28: 10-6:30
Wed 29: 5-cl
Fri 1: 9-5

You Rocked My Crystal World

Holy shit! Why doesn't anybody ever tell me these things??

R.I.P Mr. Ballard.

A Glittery Stormtrooper Helmet? Really?

Joe told me once that back in 1993 there was this mysterious professional wrestler who went by the name "The Shockmaster" that no one had ever seen yet but was being hyped as the biggest badass to come around the pike in awhile. Then, during the moment of his big debut, he made what was probably the most embarrassing entrance of any wrestler in pro wrestling history. And the character became an immediate laughingstock ever since.

"Shockmaster" was actually Norfolk, Virginia native "Uncle" Fred Ottman. During the discussion panel, Dusty Rhodes reminisces about the incident from behind the scenes, and how hard it was for he and Sting and Harlem Heat to keep from breaking character and roaring with laughter. It's pretty damn funny.



By the way, I met those two extremely tall black guys, known at the time as "Harlem Heat", back when they paid a visit to Ticketmaster when I worked there around 1998 or so. I got them to autograph a promo glossy for Joe. I think my head came up to both of their bosoms. Ah do declare... such, such LARGE gentlemen! (fans self)

Not Safe At For Work

I got a call at work today. A man was on the other line.

"Do you sell porn?" He asked.

"Yes, we have some adult DVDs." I answered (Actually what we have is more Girls Gone Wild and some Vivid titles, but nothing XXX).

"Well, YOU SOLD PORN TO MY THIRTEEN YEAR OLD SON!!"

I'm sure my eyes widened. There's no way this could have happened. We ask for I.D. religiously in our store, and anyone buying an adult DVD has a prompt on the register monitor that won't let you pass it until you've checked a customer's I.D.

"Sir, does your son still have the receipt?" I asked?

"NO!" He bellowed. "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SELL MY THIRTEEN YEAR OLD SON PORN??"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I didn't sell your son porn. Are you sure it was this location?"

"YES!! Well... yes, that what he said. I CAUGHT HIM JERKIN' IT IN MY OWN BED! To the movie YOU SOLD HIM! MY BEDSHEETS WERE SOAKED AND EVERYTHING!"

"Oh. My." I said, trying to hold back my laughter.

"But you know," snorts the man, sounding almost lecherous, "I think I'm actually gonna keep this video. I RATHER LIKE IT!"

At this point it took every ounce of my being not to lose it. Holding the phone away from my head as far as it would go, I laughed so hard into my own hand I was bent at the waist, knees buckling.

"Hell-OOOO??!!!" He bellowed from the receiver, and I had to put the phone back against my ear, pursing my lips together tightly so as not to bleat hard into his ear.

"I'm sorry sir, I am still here."

"So how the fuck do I get my money back?"

"Well sir, what we can do is if you can get your son to track down the receipt, we can see what cashier's name is on it, and we can reimburse you..."

"I just said I DON'T HAVE THE RECEIPT! WHAT ARE YOU, DEAF?"

Of course he does not have a receipt. That's because his lil' pumpkin probably stole it from our store, no doubt. But it's not like the boy's gonna admit to stealing when he's lying there on his dad's bed, crank in hand, sheets, er... soaked, and a crazy, bloviating bumpkin of a father hovering over him.

Trying to get this hysterical mental image out of my mind before I lose it again, I puff myself up and state firmly, "Sir, your son must therefore somehow procure that receipt and you must bring it into our store with the product, otherwise we have no evidence whatsoever that your son actually bought the DVD from our store." I thought of mentioning that his underage son shouldn't have been in our store without parental supervision, and that I considered his language with me filthy and perverse and I won't stand for another minute of it. But I thought twice about escalating things any further.

"Well then FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUUU!" And he slams the phone down. Apparently it wouldn't have made a difference after all if I did.


Okay, so tell me. Does that sound like a legitimate complaint call to you? Or someone perhaps making up a story in order to talk dirty to a random girl at a music store? He partially sounds truly outraged at moments. But then you need to hear his tone of voice when he was describing what his son did in the bedroom. And how he also watched the video too and rather enjoyed it. A tone somewhere between trying to shock me, and getting kind of turned on by the subject at hand. There were moments when I was actually listening in the background for other people giggling, thinking that I might be getting a prank call. I got my share of obscene phone calls when I worked in the call center at Ticketmaster years ago. Just random people willing to wait on hold until some female picks up the line. It also reminded me of those letters that men often write to Dan Savage's "Savage Love" column where guys ostensibly write it for advice about how when they masturbate they ejaculate all over the room like a firehose and oh whatever shall I do about this, and Dan refuses to answer them because it's obvious to the reader and to Dan himself that the whole thing was just an excuse to either brag or get off on the thrill writing something like that to an advice column and have other people out there reading it. Maybe he didn't anticipate me being so cavalier about the porn, or the saucy talk, so he tried to amp it up a little in an attempt to rattle me. That seems more likely than anything else, I suppose.

All I know is that I immediately ran to tell Miranda every sordid little detail and she nearly fell over herself. "Damn, why do you ALWAYS get the best phone calls?!" she said. Sigh. Damn if I'll ever know.

Joe Made It. Ain't It Purdy?

Come and get it -- Audio Junk, the Street Cook edition, is order up! Prince, James Brown, Rick James, Little Walter, Parliament, as well as samples from Happy-Go-Lucky, The Wiz, and Jonestown Revisited. Audio Junk is on randomradioonline.net every Tuesday night at 8pm EST and NOW ctiradio.com every Thursday at 7pm EST. Holla.

Major Ursa!

First 20 tracks on my iTunes this evening struggling to stay awake long enough to type this out.

1. "Mama's Room" - Under The Influence

2. "I Concentrate On You" - Fred Astaire

3. "It's My Party" - Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin

4. "My Girl" - Madness

5. "Don't Leave Me This Way" - Thelma Houston

6. "Country Funkin'" - Ant Man Bee

7. "Doreen" - Frank Zappa

8. "Big Booya" - Bad Boy Bill

9. "Sunday Morning, April 14th" - Flying White Dots

10. "The Future" - Prince

11. "Cincinatti Fatback" - Roogalator

12. "Solta o Frango" - Bonde Do Role

13. "Night Fever" - The Bee Gees

14. "Destroy Puny Earthlings!" - Famous Monsters

15. "Spazz" - The Elastic Band

16. "Change" - Fishbone

17. "Day Tripper" - The Beatles

18. "Breathe" - The Cure

19. "Top Of The Pops" - The Rezillos

20. "4 Minute Warning" - Chaos UK

Strut Right By With My Tail In The Air

Flea markets just aren't what they used to be. What was once a potential treasure hunt for antiques and collectibles has turned into a glut of cheap, poorly-made contemporary product in a way that was never quite as prevalent as it once was. Tables covered in old albums and beautiful, old, rare, dusty hardback books have given way to row after row of cheap modern jewelry, bootleg CDs of new releases, DVDs of Hollywood blockbuster movies you can get anywhere else (coffcofffelloffatruckcoff) and Obama's face on more tacky dime store paraphernalia than the Beatles in 64'. But I guess I can't fault anybody who wants to be their own boss and just sell what they got, so long as folks are buying, I suppose. It's just not the same. Not the thrill of the hunt anymore. Although it does makes the occasional table of true oddities all the more visible, and Joe and I spent our Sunday afternoon -- and what was left of our pocket change -- doing the kinds of things we used to do back in our college years; picking up random objects, going "What fresh hell is this?", and taking them home with us. Though not before we stopped off for lunch at the French Bakery, a Norfolk landmark delicatessen founded in the 1940's that we used to frequent when we lived in Ghent back in the 1990's (my parents used to eat there back when they were teenagers). The food is wildly expensive, but reasonable considering how it's all made to order and pretty damn good. I used to love their chocolate rum balls, but they were featuring chocolate-covered bacon that day and I couldn't bring myself to try it, no matter how hard they were pushing it on us. Alvin met us over there and we all had sandwiches while Al admired our booty (our HAUL! HAUL! that is!)

Some of which:

Wot, indeed. Joe nabbed some kind of generic grappler from the "Way Out Wrestler" series, provided by a table from a company called Totally Awesome Super Sweet Stuff (the guy was very nice and gave me his business card so I'm posting his website here.) "He's got muscles where there aren't even any muscles!" Al exclaimed. Joe liked his WOT wrestling belt, which seems to have fallen down around his ankles. And me? I like his freaky onion head. Wasn't this worth a coupla whatever Joe paid for it?

Joe also managed to haggle these comic books down to $5 for both from another vendor at the market. Isn't that super-boss Thor cover just the cat's ass? And who wouldn't want an X-Men parody comic where the bad guys win? Um, all these questions are rhetorical, by the way.

I was action figure hunting that day, so I paid 50 cents each for Odo from this one Star Trek-lovin' lady (she would hardly let me get away from her once she realized that I was a Trekkie and wanted to talk Trek for hours), and the John Stewart Green Lantern, also from the Totally Awesome guy. I'm not really a big fan of this Green Lantern's modern design, all sharp angles and tapered features (unlike Odo from a decade previous) but he is pleasantly bendable. Sometimes a toy's flexibility will be the true selling point for me.

Totally Awesome Super Sweet Stuff primarily specializes in customized rubber ducks, but as much as I wanted the James Brown duck for my downstairs bathroom (slowly cultivating a sort of James Brown theme) I saved my $6 and spent it on a tiny little cute-as-the-dickens Dracula duck, which I think was a buck but I can't remember. Also Joe bought it for me because he was busy buying the basketball duck in the picture for himself. Summer swimming pool hilarity! Especially since we lost our Incredible Hulk doll at the pool when we lived at the Alamar Hotel back in 1989... or maybe that was just his arm. We did carry Hulk's arm around with us for several years after. Ahhh, well...

And for somebody who want me to get rid of my records, Joe sure does put in his fair share of contribution. Only difference, naturally, is that these are, well, awesome. This one guy at the market who always sells vinyl had a box of weirdness set aside, all of it appallingly cheap. Now that brings back memories. One just can't stumble across an album cover like The Dis-Advantages Of You the way we one used to anymore. Joe joked that the man in the picture was Al and the girl was his tall German supermodel girlfriend Kiki. And she's not even wearing heels, bitches. (Al could probably benefit from some.)

And a record about "activity songs for basic motor skill development"? Maybe I'm the one who should have bought this album for herself.

But I suppose Sunday will be best remembered as the day we all discovered what the band Steam really looked like. You know, they of the classic 1969 hit single "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye"? Or more like, what they looked like shirtless and sweaty and swathed in hiptowels. "Look, it's 354 degrees up in that joint!" whooped Alvin. "That's hhhhhhot!" And better yet...

there's a photo on the back cover corner with a producer's credit for another sweaty shirtless man. Mmm, sumthin' for the laaaadiesss. Hooray for sweaty shirtless men! And three cheers for flea markets, dying dignity and all. Sometimes one man's treasure is... uh, another women's crap stacked up in the hallway.

Okay, this question isn't rhetorical. Just how flippin' white trash am I?

Schedule

Mon 20: 5-cl
Tue 21: 10-5
Wed 22: 9-5
Thur 23: 5-cl
Fri 24: 4-cl

Entertainment Tonight

Thoroughly unable to sleep. Spent the evening watching digital cable, which I only finally got installed in the last two weeks or so. Soaked up a little Blackadder ("Born To Be King"), some Tom Baker-era Doctor Who ("Robots pt. 1"), the original Wicker Man, always a favorite (and especially effective to watch in a dark living room at 2 in the morning), and Junebug, which I haven't seen since I rented it back when it came out a few years ago. Ironically, I own all of this already on DVD. Well, except for the Doctor Who. Honestly haven't seen the original series since I was in high school. Talk about kickin' some old school memories there.

And speaking of, I seem to be coming full circle back around to certain films and television programs from my childhood within this past week, as well as this upcoming week, hardly by any fault of my own. I mean the movie Five was my doing, and I was the one who went about unearthing information on a character from Guiding Light. But some of this other nostalgia fodder coming up this week was brought into the house by other means not of my doing, which I suppose I'll expound upon later if the mood moves me. Though I'm sure nothing bores a body more than reading about the nostalgia of other people. Not like anyone reads this anyway. But I guess it's a relatively entertaining document for me to go back to years later and remember what I thought and felt and shit. Um, well... not that I do that with my blog either. Oh hell, I'm rambling now. I really need to get to bed. Gotta mow the lawn in the morning.

Awww, sookie... Legend is about to come on! Screw sleep! I'll rest when I'm dayed.

Mongoloid Middle America

Tomorrow is National Record Store Day, so I encourage you all... please... visit your local independent music store retailer. Visit any place but mine. No, really. Not mine. Go someplace else. Go to Skinnie's (tell Steve I said hi). Or to Fantasy (tell Mitch I said hi). Or Birdland, please! (tell Barry I said hi) Or.. God, is that it around here these days? I think Volume Music closed or is closing, and I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't gone out to visit Drew at Unicorn Records to see if it's even out there anymore. See? Even I need a swift kick every once in awhile. So yeah, you all go do that. Not that I think it will help the industry. But it will probably be the last time you get to do this kind of thing before they all go away. Something to bore your grandchildren with one of these days.

Don't Ease

So a woman forty years or older is considered a MILF or a cougar by young men. But is there a name for women forty years or older who like men their own age, or older? People don't even wanna watch porn that doesn't have a catchy theme title like that. I... I feel like there's no place for me in this world. (sniff)

Meanwhile the flock of doves in my backyard make this bizarre collective hoot-n-coo noise that wigs me the fuck out. Took me weeks to realize that the sound reminds me of the music that would play during the creepy subway peddler scenes in the movie The Wiz, and now suddenly I'm that little ten year old girl again clawing at her ears and screaming GAAAAHHHHH DON'T LET THE TRASHCANS WITH THE BIG TEETH GET ME SAVE ME FLEETWOOD COUPE DE VILLE! Actually I've been screaming out that sentence every time I'm caught in a pickle ever since. It's made me the strong woman with no MILF qualities whatsoever that I am today.

Maybe This Will Help

The Friday Five:

What is your favorite food from each food group?

1. Bread (Grain) Group:
Love good, fresh bread that's hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Like baguettes. Just bought one today. I try not to eat too much bread, but every now and then I get that yen.

2. Meat (Protein) Group:
Most seafood of any kind. I was eating a lot of fresh fish for oils, but I just bought some Udo's Oil the other day to see if that might be a good substitute when I can't get good fish (and I can't cook for damn).

3. Vegetable Group:
Adore most veggies. Current favorites are broccoli, brussels sprouts, spinach, and anything light and greeny.

4. Fruit Group:
Bananas, blueberries, papaya, raspberries, and watermelon.

5. Sugars, Fats and Oils:
Guh. Everything else.

Animal Behavior

"Ahoy Scabs" Audio Junk from April 14th is ready to be a-downloaded, with mixes fulla Five, The Wiz, live Prince, Little Walter, solo Grandmaster Flash, and ohhhhsomuchmore. Remember to check Audio Junk every Tuesday night at 8pm to 10pm EST at Random Radio. Because I said so.

This Is Why I Don't Twitter

Just got back from an excellent lunch with Joe and Mike at this place we'd never tried before which turns out to be right around the corner from my house. It's been so relaxing, not having had stomach pains for almost a month and a half now, and feeling a little freer to eat better again without the ever-looming fear of gut-ular angst. My gastro seems to think that it's spastic colon, which sounds just like someone with my luck would have. On the bright side it is known to go away for long stretches at a time before reoccurring, so there can be times like today where the three of us can chow down on an appetizer of melitzana with skordalia (yums all around!), a greek salad of tomatoes, feta, olives, and anchovies and not have to worry that too much vegetation will have me doubled over in aaaahgony. I have still avoided fruits, although I'm craving them like nobody's bizniz. When the summer kicks in, which is my ever-lovin' fruit-eatin' season, I'm going to have to suck it up and risk the pain to see if I can hold down a papaya again. God, I miss papaya. And I had even went so far as to purchase a banana bunker for carrying bananas around with me as a quick "energy bar". (My mother saw me open the delivery box with the banana bunker inside it and thought it was something else entirely, which coming from my straight-laced mom had me nearly falling over laughing).

And does Sirius radio lose its signal often? I don't have it, and I suppose other than restaurants I never get to hear it. But they were playing some goofy 80's-ish MOR set and the signal would blip out sporadically, and in this case, seemingly during any moment with an artist whose names began with the letter "M". It completely crashed during Madonna's "Like A Prayer" and Maroon 5's "Makes Me Wonder", which is 80's-sounding enough to count (during the beginning part before the vocals Mike shouted out "Hey it's the Talking Heads!"). And even funnier, when Jeffrey Osborne's "Stay With Me Tonight" was playing the signal went out during the Brian May guitar solo only! (I actually had no idea that guitar solo was by Brian May, but Mike always seems to know these things, which is what makes him Mike). Anyway, it added a touch of hilarity to the Mediterranean ambiance -- including bookend Phil Collins tracks, which completes my 24-hour cycle of Phil Collins ubiquitousness. Especially considering Miranda already "Phil'd" me yesterday at work sticking a copy of No Jacket Required under my nose. Bitch. I'll get you when you're not looking. Don't make half the staff paper the inside and outside of your car with photo-copies of the album cover to the Buster soundtrack again like we did that one Christmas Eve! Man, good times.

Speaking of which, Miranda and I were trying to come up with some kind of menacing logo for a potential "New Phil Order" gag website, discussing Phil Collins' attempt at world domination through his ability to expose his name, face, or music in the average American's life within every 24-hour period. Something not quite swastika, not quite hammer-n-cycle, but something similar and perhaps somewhat related to Phil Collins that one might associate with him in some way, and maybe insert his face from either one of his many giant-noggin album covers in the center. Or better yet, something like this. (although I wouldn't turn down this one either.) Anybody got any cool ideas? Get to doodling, mah peeps!

Everything I Know Is Wrong

So of course there’s been all this jibber-jabber about the 52 year old soap opera Guiding Light going off the air, and it got me to thinking a little about the show, and the brief period that I actually tuned in back in the mid 80’s. And, with a little help from google, arrived at the most amazing discovery. Well, for me, that is.

Firstly, I never started out as much of a soap watcher. When I was twelve I got hooked on Dark Shadows, which of course by the early 80’s had been long cancelled. But the local channels used to rerun the series at noon every weekday, so while all of my friends were busy obsessing over the freshly-new schmoopfest of Luke and Laura I was hanging on every word of already long-kaput bloodsucker Barnabas Collins – until perhaps a year later, when school and life got in the way of keeping track of events. Much like most of us when we lose track of any soap.

My mother used to watch Guiding Light when she was pregnant with me, but it never occurred to me to tune in to the lives of the beautiful and big-haired (that were not vampires… sheeeyuh!) until around 1984 when, while hanging out at my friend and next-door neighbor Jeanne’s house, I was surprised to see her turn on the telly at 3pm and exclaim that she had become a Guiding Light fan overnight, literally, because she was hooked on this one tough little punk chick who was the leader of a street gang and was currently holding two characters hostage by gunpoint in Cedars Hospital for several days so far on the program. “She’s awesome!” said Jeanne. “And so hilarious!” Punk girl? Awesome? Hilarious? You didn’t have to tell me twice. I sat down and watched with her, and from that moment on, I feel in love with the foofy-haired girl with the thick Brooklyn accent who was known on the show as Darcy Dekker.

Oh, she was so blessed wonderful. Angry, jealous, and soooo wrong side of the rich and decorative people part of town. Described on an APB in one episode as having "a fog-horn voice and all the charm of a Heavy Metal nightmare.", she did everything from mug people in alleyways, holding rich baronesses hostage, and shoot somebody while disguised as a nurse (my friend Sheryl, who was still hooked on General Hospital and never tuned into Guiding Light no matter how much I gushed about Darcy, was knocked off her socks by that scene, and was gripped with the lure of Darcy herself for a brief period of time). In many ways she was sort of a cipher. Television’s commonly misguided idea of a “punk” in the 80’s, out of control and violent and nothing but fire-breathing hostility and daddy-didn’t-love-me issues. But as evil as she was, my heart went out to her. She was fun, and fun to hiss like the villain she was paid to play. But she was vulnerable, too. At times. But enough to understand her, when she allowed us to do so. I utterly loved her.

After about a year or so of Darcy’s delightfully over-the-top badass sudsy antics, she left the show in 1985 (I think she was shot to death, but don’t quote me on that), and although I continued to watch for a few more years all the way up to my freshman year of college (luckily my roommate was a fan too) I gradually lost interest in the show. I had school, and a boyfriend, and all kinds of projects and activities going on to keep me away from the tube. But more importantly, the show no longer had Darcy, and honestly, Guiding Light lost its allure for me with her departure.

Although the mental image of Darcy gradually slipped through my sieve-like mind, I could always recall that year Jeanne and I would tune into Guiding Light only for Darcy, and in some form or fashion, that pouty face, that shock of red hair, and that raspy New Yawk honk was always burned into the back of my head. And I thought I would never forget it.

Ho boy, was I ever wrong.

Tonight as I was trying to google some information on her – including her character name (I had even forgotten that her name was Darcy) as well as the actress who played her – I was suddenly knocked breathless by my discovery, just less than an hour ago.

Darcy Dekker on Guiding Light was played by Robin Johnson.

Yes, THAT Robin Johnson, the one who played Nicky (seen here on the right with co-star Trini Alvarado on the left) from one of my favorite cult movies of all time, Times Square. How did I never…. Okay, just…. Gah. How did I not recognize…? Rrrrrr! Okay, I first saw Times Square around 1988 or 89, after getting a vinyl copy of the soundtrack at a flea market in Roanoke, VA in 1987 which I played RELIGIOUSLY (I still get nostalgic chills hearing Roxy Music’s “Same Old Scene” during the opening credits to this movie, remembering that year in college when this soundtrack was all I played). Maybe Nicky seemed familiar, but then again maybe not. It’s so hard to wrap my brain around it all now, because Nicky…. Is Robin Johnson. And Robin Johnson was Darcy Dekker. Otherwise known to me as “that punk chick that made me watch Guiding Light against my will.” Holy smokes. Suddenly it’s all falling into place. I mean… (shakes head) oh well, nevermind.

Here I was about to write a nice little send-off to a long-running soap opera that provided many hours of enjoyment for a brief epoch of my life. Now I’m just shocked and frustrated and utterly flabbergasted at myself. Thanks a flippin' heap, Guiding Light. I hope Reva Lewis finally takes a big dive offa something high into something prickly.

And because I'm extra mad at myself and want to take it out on the world, enjoy this supremely cheesy Springsteen rip-off video by Darcy’s ex-boyfriend Lujack, that aired around the same time. God, I remember tuning into the episode that premiered this video with actual excitement. Seeing this now, Christ. Darcy should have just put a slug in his head and be done with him. You go, Nicky Darcy.

Thanks to robinjohnson.net for the page on Darcy Dekker.

Schedule

Mon 13: 5-cl
Wed 15: 9-5
Thur 16: 5-cl
Sat 18: 9-5
Mon 20: 5-cl
Tue 21: 10-5
Wed 22: 9-5
Thur 23: 5-cl
Fri 24: 4-cl

Fiend Before The Shrine

Organic mangoes at the Heritage produce section this morning.

First 20 tracks on my iTunes after eating my first all-organic vegan meal again in almost two months.

1. "Nothing In This World Can Stop Me Worryin'" - The Kinks

2. "Blast/War Machine Dub" - Praxis

3. "Matrosen Tango" - Dagmar Krause

4. "Rio" - Duran Duran

5. "Cannonball Yodel" - Randy Erwin

6. "Savory" - Jawbox

7. "Cavalettas" - The Mars Volta

8. "Mildred Pierce Reporting (Old Sarge)" - William S. Burroughs

9. "The End" - Stanley Wilson Orchestra

10. "Seether" - Veruca Salt

11. "Wake Up! Time To Die" - Pop Will Eat Itself

12. "35th Street Blues" - Charles J. Levy

13. "Marathon" - Kayo Dot

14. "Staring At The Sun..." - Smile

15. "Evil Ways" - Santana

16. "Compton (featuring Will.I.Am)" - The Game

17. "Mausam & Escape" - A. R. Rahman

18. "Mindstream" - Meat Beat Manifesto

19. "Help Us, Somebody" - Chris Thomas

20. "Spaz" - N.E.R.D.

Joy In The Morning

With only a smidge left on my H&R Block income tax card -- not enough to do any real damage, but just enough to buy a used copy of The Complete Jeeves & Wooster on DVD, with $30 knocked off the price tag -- I'm pretty darn satisfied with myself, wot? The British comedy series that began in 1990 which featured Hugh Laurie (House) as Bertie Wooster -- young playboy, landed gentry, and the mental facilities attributed to no doubt many generations of aristocratic inbreeding -- and his manservant Jeeves, played spot-on by Stephen Fry (Blackadder, Wilde) who's deft wit and overall functional intelligence wrangles his not-so-quick-on-the-draw charge out of one social contretemps after another. Being a huge fan of the books by P.G Wodehouse over the years I can see where a television series can only cut the comedy straight down the middle line, being that the meat of the book's humor comes from the narrative that is Bertie's internal monologue, which the show lacks. Having already owned the first season, the show relies more on fleshing out the physical comedy and broadening it, which is just duckie with me, considering. Laurie also plays Wooster a little more dimwitted than I remember him in the books. Wodehouse's Bertie is highly educated, but a little slow in the common sense department. Fry is a touch young to play the seasoned Jeeves but Fry is so amazing in pretty much everything he does he's nothing but a gleeful pleasure to observe. Really looking forward to the rest of this series. And the extra money left on my card with the money I saved buying used!

Butt-Keys?

The Friday Five:

1. If you could give out Best Picture, Best Actor/Actress and Best Director Oscars to any movies (not necessarily all from the same year) to people/films that haven't won, what would they be?
Best Picture? C'mon, the unforgivable crime that Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot never received its due? Still the best thing everybody in that film has ever done (and that's saying something). And the best thing Marilyn Monroe was ever in, including Playboy (and that's really saying something!) And as far as Best Actor I'm gonna go the best supporting actor route and give a righteous shout-out to the effortlessly phenomenal Edward G. Robinson in Double Indemnity (can you tell I likes them Billy Wilder flix?). For Best Director, Alfred Hitchcock, for pretty much everything. Though my favorites are Rebecca, North By Northwest, Rear Window, Shadow of A Doubt, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and Vertigo. Not very original or unpredictable choices, I agree. But when justice has never been served one's voice must join the chorus in order to be heard.

2. What is your favorite genre of writing (short stories, novels, nonfiction...)?
Nonfiction, especially history books. Biographies. For fiction, I enjoy science fiction, favoring the H.G Wells/Jules Verne steampunk variety. But without trying to be, like post-steampunk... er, steampunk. Neo-steampunk? Gotta stop saying steampunk...

3. Are there any CDs to which you know every word? Movies?
Movies? Oh, all the obnoxious nerd fodder that everyone else knows, like Monty Python's The Holy Grail and whatnot. The kind of things you get you not invited back to parties again for quoting as if you're the first person to have ever seen it (so that's why my phone never rings anymore). Though Bachelor Party is another that Joe only one other person can quote along with me. Music is weirder, because I rarely pay much attention to lyrics and even some of my all-time favorite songs I have no idea what they're singing about. But I suppose there are a few. The other day I pulled out my vinyl copy of Psonic Psunspot by The Dukes Of Stratosphear and realized that I probably never have to listen to that album ever again because I know every note, every lyric, every chord, from beginning to end and back again.

4. If you could write and cast your own movie, what would it be about and who would you cast?
Probably a movie based on my father's life, because my dad's had some total wackadoo adventures inadvertently situated Forrest Gump-style into oddball moments in American history. And the part of my dad would be played by Joe Pesci . Not because my dad looks or acts anything like Joe Pesci. I just think Joe Pesci needs more work. And it would be hilarious.

5. What's the best song to wake you up? Put you to sleep?
To wake up? Probably "Minimum Wage" by They Might Be Giants (gets me in the proper frame of mind for going to work). To sleep? Anything but that terrifying crying baby song off the Ashes album by Christian Death. Sweet baby Jesus, never again. ::shudders::

Wild, Wild Billy

I finally got around to seeing the 1951 sci-fi downer Five, by playwright/screenwriter/novelist/ producer/director/radio host Arch Oboler -- the film which I mentioned in blog posts past that someone on Kindertrauma insisted was the film that I must have seen as a kid that's haunted my memory based on the final scene of the picture. To recap, back in the late 70's I saw the tail-end of a movie about some kind of nuclear apocalypse where a woman wandered aimlessly across a scorched earth carrying a baby until she kneels in exhaustion in the dirt, and when a bearded man approaches her (apparently the only other person living on the planet besides herself) she tells him "My baby... is dead." and they have a funeral pyre made for the body. Pretty much roll credits. Well, this movie has that scene. But, it seems.... different somehow. I remember the kneeling woman looking up at the man as if he were hovering over her, and she looking towards the left of the screen instead of the right. I also could have sworn that they burned the baby's body, but in this picture they merely bury it. Also, more importantly, I could have laid money on it that the movie I saw as a child was in color. Was their a more modern-day remake of this movie, perhaps in the 70's and made for television? Or is my memory merely colorizing it Ted Turner-style? So far I'm finding no evidence of a remake of this specific picture, but it's difficult to determine given the sheer volume of nuclear apocalypse flicks pumped out in those fleeting forty years of cold war wackiness. In fact this is often sited as one of the first of that genre (I think even Kiss Me Deadly came out four years later) and although the acting by some is achingly over-the top, it was still pretty intriguing as far as last-people-on-earth pictures go, an I am a big fan of those in particular. (trivia: the house where the movie is filmed belonged to Arch Oboler, and was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.)

While on the subject of movies, once again I'm soliciting the help of anyone within proverbial earshot if they can recall a particular horror movie -- and one of particular 1980's cheesy goodness -- that if I remember correctly involved a wooded swamp with a couple of people tormented by a civilization of little hooded(?) little squatty humanoid types. I used to want to think that the movie was called Dwarves or something like that but I am showing no other movie by that name. It was some kind of one-named thingamabob, and was the kind of bad that makes you keep checking for the little robot silhouettes in the bottom right corner. But more importantly -- or maybe just distinctly -- the song playing over the ending credits was "Defiance" performed by former Hampton Roads southern-rock outfit Snuff.

Snuff's self-titled debut album was released on Elektra-Curb in 1982, and the single "Defiance" dominated the southeastern Virginia 80's AOR airwaves in a way that few other local bands outside of the Waxing Poetics ever achieved. More than likely helped along by the major label release. In fact the single to "Defiance" was released on Warner Bros. which leads me to believe that the movie that I'm looking for was probably a Warner Bros. release as well. It's just when I tell friends and family that I was flipping channels one night years ago and caught the last 20 minutes or so of a laughably bad drive-in quality horrorshow with "Defiance" playing over the end credits they first refuse to believe me, THEN demand to know the name of the picture so that they can track it down themselves. My uncle Billy was old friends with the band, particularly Cecil Hooker, he of the the long-haired Asian persuasion violinist that I always remembered from the photo on the back of the album I had (pictured above) which Billy gave me back when it was released. I wonder if I still have it somewhere in my collection. Gettin' pretty out of control when I haven't bought any serious new vinyl in years and I still have no clue what I own anymore.

Anybody got a clue? Cuz I sure could use one!

(About the movie, I mean!)

Schedule

Fri 10: 9-5
Sun 12: 11-6:30
Mon 13: 5-cl
Wed 15: 9-5
Thur 16: 5-cl
Sat 18: 9-5

Another Stoopid Kar Production

Sorry about last the week's Audio Junk FUBAR, but this week's splendiferious offering is ready for your listening enjoyment -- featuring trailers from Samuel Fuller flicks, Clutch, Motorhead, and much, much more. Remember to hear it all go down live 'n dangerous every Tuesday night at 8pm EST on randomradioonline.net. You're one-stop shop for all things, er, random.

Shapes Between Us Turn into Animals

Exhausting music meme here:

Name your top 10 most played bands on iTunes (Or in this case, what I have the most of by one artist):

1. Prince
2. Miles Davis
3. Albert Ayler
4. The Cold
5. The Cure
6. Kate Bush
7. Parliament/Funkadelic
8. Robyn Hitchcock
9. Sonic Youth
10. Merle Haggard

What was the first song you ever heard by 6 ?
"Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)", back around 1985 or so when MTV used a clip of Kate lipsynching to the song on the Wogan show because, rumor had it, that the original video was too sexually explicit (really, MTV? The channel that shows half-naked gyrating strippers won't show a woman -- the actually artist -- dancing in a hakama?) I remember not being that into it at the time, but later in college as I got deeper and deeper in the older music of Peter Gabriel I developed a greater appreciation for her entire body of work.

What is your favorite album of 2?
It used to be Bitches Brew, which is the first album to turn me on to Miles. From that moment on every new album I heard became my new "favorite" Miles Davis album. But I think these days, it's clearly The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions box set (the sessions that eventually led to the Tribute To Jack Johnson album), recorded in 1970 but not actually released until 2003. Featuring Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Keith Jarrett, Sonny Sharrock, John McLaughlin, and too many other earthbound giants to count.

What is your favorite lyric that 5?
Oh, God. My friends and I used to rag on Cure lyrics all the time back when I was in high school. Although I do admit we used to think the lyrics to "How Beautiful You Are" were pretty "Whoa, dude..." at the time. I'll still never forget driving with Joe the first time he heard "Fire In Cairo" and there's that annoying part where Robert Smith keeps spelling out the song title over and over for no understandable reason. So after the full round of "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" "F-I-R-E I-N C-A-I-R-O!" Joe remarks, "Gee, I was really kinda hoping he'd spell that out for me one more time." and I laughed so hard I nearly hit a Krispy Kreme truck.

How many times have you seen 4?
Once, at their reunion show in New Orleans, 2001.

What is your favorite song by 7?
Whoa, nellie. That's not an easy one. I will say the strongest contender is "The Motor Booty Affair", off the album of the same name. Actually, mark the album of the same name as also my favorite album by number 4 as well.

What is a good memory you have involving the music of 10?
Singing "Mama Tried" with Alvin at the top of our lungs at Wherehouse Music in Ward's Corner.

Is there a song of 3 that makes you sad?
Probably "Our Prayer". Reminds me of a New Orleans funeral march heard underwater.

What is your favorite lyric that 2 has sung?
Silly! Miles doesn't sing.

How did you get into 3 ?
An online buddy of mine, music critic Phil Freeman, was gushing about the disk one day, telling me how although half the Holy Ghost box set was kind of bleh, the rest of it was one of the most essential owning of any important jazz artist to date. I had the Holy Ghost set at work but could never afford it until it came in used one day (probably the same one we sold). Another friend and music critic Steve Dollar extolled the very same virtues of this set which finally pushed me over the edge to buy it for myself. Two New York-based porn-loving jazz/metal critics can't be wrong!

What is your favorite song by 4?
I think these days I gotta say "Hot Ride". For sounding like the best Clash knock-off I've heard from anybody in awhile.

How many times have you seen 9 live?
Twice, although the first time was the most memorable. First I bought a shirt off of Steve Albini, who told me to go find some "hot chicks" and tell them who he was and send them over. Then near the end of the gig Lee Renaldo pulls me up on stage and I run around jumping and goofing off while the band wails away on whatever noisescape they're layin' down and I totally trip over and fall on top of Kim Gordon, who continues to straddle her bass Jimi Hendrix-style and coax weird rumbles out of it. I can see Joe and S. at the back of the Boathouse, who are clutching each other and pointing at me and screaming. Meanwhile Perry Ferrell is standing right next to them, sportin' those very same wacky pants he wears in the "Stop" video by Jane's Addiction. Talk about a zany fun-filled night brushing up against celebrity skin.

What is a good memory you have involving 2?
Having brunch recently with Mike and Mikey C. and Donna while "So What" plays on the jukebox. How cool is that where a diner has "So What" on their jukebox and it's not 1959?

Is there a song of 8 that makes you sad?
Maybe" Cynthia Mask"? More because of the rather plaintive key it's in.

What is your favorite album of 5?
Pornography, by far. I remember that hot summer night in 1988 when Joe and I were trying to go to sleep listening to that album, all the windows open, and the trees from the deep mountain forests outside were making terrifying shadows on the opposite wall -- one of which resembled a man dangling from a noose, all while Robert Smith wailed "I waaant toooo DIIIIIEEEEE!" over and over again. About a year later I got to hold up the CD proudly on the local news doing a story about the Music Man record store (where I would work a short while later). It still pleases me to this day that I got to flash the words "The Cure: PORNOGRAPHY" on local television.

What is your favorite lyric that 3 has sung?
Ooo, wow. Again. Ayler? Like Miles, not a singer.

What is your favorite song of 1?
Another toughie (funk always is). But I will have to always round it up to "1999", always and forever.

What is your favorite song of 10?
Did I mention "Mama Tried" already? You know, as sappy as it is, I still have a soft spot for "I Take A Lot Of Pride In What I Am". I really takes me back to the kind of country I remember growing up with as a child. There's a certain comfort in that.

How many times have you seen 8 live?
Never! Somebody hook me up! (I didn't even get to his part in the movie Rachel Getting Married yet before Joe turned it off in disgust)

What is your favorite album of 1?
Probably Sign Of The Times. It has a sort of Beatles White Album feel, or different sounds and moods (and consistencies of quality). Yet for similar reasons, that's what makes it so damn good.

What is a great memory you have considering 9?
Not really a great memory (that would be the concert discussed above), but when my grandmother died back in January of 1991 I found that the only song that gave me any solace to my grief was "Teenage Riot". I blasted that first track off of Daydream Nation over and over so many times I don't even know if my old vinyl will play anymore. It still makes me think of my Nana every time I watch this video.

What was the first song you heard by 8?
I bought Hitchcock's Globe Of Frogs in the summer of 1988, having no idea who he was or having ever heard his work, so I guess technically the first Robyn Hitchcock song I ever heard was "Tropical Flesh Mandala", being the first track on the album. Although I admit "Vibrating" and "Balloon Man" were the obvious stand-outs.

What is your favorite cover by 2?
I don't think I can recall a Miles Davis cover at the moment. Although I do think I remember my friend Mike performing "So What" live with one of his many various bands once.