...Line?

We'll get right back to "Grrrandpapa Knows Best", but for just a mo', let me go off topic and discuss my favorite train wreck, Sarah "I Can See Russia From My Toilet" Palin.

That Couric interview. I get so uncomfortable when someone so embarrasses themself that I can barely look them in the eye, electronically or otherwise. What a clueless corpse! Sure, I couldn't answer those questions, but I'm not running for Veep of the world, either.

Dig this:

"It was like I had to make up every answer," said Palin in a statement written for her by someone other than herself. "If I knew that my responses to Katie's questions were not going to be provided to me before hand, I wouldn't have done the interview in the first place."

Double WTF??!!???

86 that bitch fast!!!

But here's the scary part: who's that in the on-deck circle? Probably Mitt Romney. Talk about striking fear in the hearts of men. What about Giuliani? Nah, he can't see past "9/11". Lieberman? Hyuk, you don't really think they'd go with a jew, do you? Palin was their Angela Davis or Jane Fonda as far as they're concerned.

Have a nice trip back home. Is "Men In Trees" still on TV? Maybe she can do a walk-on.

At least it's not improv.

The World Is A Better Place

The other day I became a grandfather for the first time. This was an exciting experience, because I saw the little tyke when he was an hour old. His eyes were open for most of that first visit, quite a lot more than they were over the next 48 hours or so. He probably saw all he could take, & thought, "Y'know what - I'm going back to sleep; wake me when the new Dylan box comes out (Oct 7, btw)". Yeah, the modern world makes you jaded real fast.

All throughout the waiting period (I think it's called pregnancy) I was wondering how this was going to affect my normal everyday lifestyle, i.e., I hate people, of which kids are a subset, and how I don't like to be infringed upon by stuff I can't be arsed with. Well, as the big day grew closer, I started thinking about the cool & crazy things I could do with the little brussel sprout, all the info and data and stuff I would pass on. Y'see, I'm pretty sure I'm the most unorthodox grandparent this kid has. The most abnormal one. The one who's closest to his age, spirit-wise if not mentality-wise. Fact is, I really kinda like kids - in their place - when they're being cool 'n all, not bratty & obnoxious & messing up your shit. I really dig a child's sensibility. I like their purity & innocence & honesty. Until grownups get their stinking hands on them.

This is a tough world in which to grow up. I don't envy him, but I will certainly help him. Right after I empty my drool cup & change my diaper. I'll live vicariously through this boy while that's still an attractive concept. I'm always grousing over the fact that at my age I can't pull off a lot of the things I see in mens shops, all these variations on themes from bygone eras. So I'll just take the kid shopping & make him a 21st century me.

But no f$%king athletic shoes or hoodies.

Heaven's Gonna Swing Now

Earl Palmer was one of the greatest drummers on the planet. People talk about this drummer, that drummer. Jump back, Jack. My man Earl played with everyone from the King of Rock & Roll - that's Little Richard - to Neil Young to Ringo to Elvis Costello to (hold on to your hats) Frank Sinatra.

My favorite Earl sides are naturally the Little Richard sessions on Specialty Records. This was the greatest rock & roll band in the world, not only was Earl there, but the mighty duo of Lee Allen and Red Tyler on sax, Frank Field on the bass, and Edgard Blanchard on guitar. Oh yeah, and Richard Penniman on piano. This band was primarily on every Nawlins record from the fifties, give or take a cat or two - Fats, Huey Smith, Fess, Shirley & Lee et al. But I'm getting off on a tangent, this ain't about Nawlins, just it's greatest drummer.

"Tutti Fruitti". "I Hear You Knockin'". "I'm Walkin'". "Rockin' Robin". "La Bamba". "River Deep - Mountain High"!! (can you imagine that session??) "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling. (or that one??) "Dance With Me Henry". The theme songs from "77 Sunset Strip" and "The Odd Couple"!! The Flintstones theme song!!!! Green Acres!! I Dream Of Jeannie!! The Frikkin Brady Bunch!! The film scores to "Judgement at Nuremberg", "Mad Mad World", "A Patch Of Blue", "Robin & The Seven Hoods" and "How To Stuff A Wild Bikini" to name a few.

And he was a charter member of the legendary "Wrecking Crew" in LA. (look it up)

And there's more and more, trust me.

How great does a guy have to be to play on Lucille and the score to Judgement At Nuremberg?That's talented, to be sure. Gifted.

Sometime in the early/mid 90s, Earl appeared in a video with Alt-crap band Cracker. Leader David Lowery asked Palmer if he would be able to play along with the songs, Earl gave Lowery a look and said,

"I invented this shit."

Another Rick In The Wall

Yeah, I know, that was a pitiful pun. But what can I say, here I am acknowledging the passing of Rick Wright, Keyboardist for Pink Floyd for 42 years. Cancer, wouldn't ya know.

I don't like Pink Floyd. Actually, I should clarify that; I like the first Pink Floyd album "Piper At The Gates Of Dawn" a whole lot. It's very English, very experimental, and at the time Floyd was led by Syd Barrett, a true visionary, an avatar, and very quickly a psychedelic casualty. After that first album, a couple singles and a couple tracks from the second album A Saucerful Of Secrets, Barrett moved onto his own planet, never to return, and he died in 2006.

Anyway, back to the Rickster. I seem to remember reading somewhere, though I can't for the life of me recall where, probably some UK monthly, that Wright did not think very highly of Syd Barrett. But I can't find any proof of that on the web. I believe I read that he more than any other of his Floydian cohorts held that opinion. So I have to be honest, when I heard that Rick Wright died, I was a little "what goes around comes around, mutha". Because post-Barrett Floyd suck the big one.

Was Wright a bad seed? Seems he also had a problem with bassist/vocalist Roger Waters, who played a major part in the composition and execution of Floyd's overblown musical wanking. He even "quit" the band in the 80s (big deal, they were dormant for 20 years). But he came back when they reformed for a few shows and a couple albums in the noughts.

SO - no more Floyd reunion tours, or albums. Guess you'll have to settle for the laser shows at the planetarium.

Funny, you don't sound like the governor of Alaska

Motor City Maniac

I was reading a post on some blog - can't remember which one, but it was a link off FreakyTrigger, a site that humorously revisits pop culture touchstones of the past. At any rate, I was reminded therein of my first submission to the Letters section of Creem Magazine. It was March 1971, Volume 3, Number 1, and that's it at the top of the post. At the time I was very into local combo Brownsville Station, who specialized in revving up fifties chestnuts to high energy levels. About two years later they found international fame with "Smokin' In The Boys Room", and by that time had watered themselves down and turned faux-glam for fame and fortune.

I digress. Anyway, I had seen them a few times around town at the local dives, and being 17 had also started the ritual of drinking before going into the venue (they didn't serve alcohol back then). This undoubtedly made me more susceptible to their on-stage histrionics, because I sent this raving letter to Creem. And they published it. The letter was peppered with a lot of cliches, like "bees that way sometimes", which would assure them I was down with the brothers in the ghetto, if not one myself. Oh yeah, and "got to be a stone rock & roll maniac!" - that was one I remember using. Geez, how embarrassing. So this issue comes out, it's the first Creem in a new cut-page format rather than the old newspaper size version. And I see the letter! YOW! And not only do I see it, but this girl in my Econ class sees it, too. She's one of a group of girls, some from my school, that were at the ghetto ballrooms every weekend, but her aim was not to dig the sounds, but dig the band personally, if you get my drift. I seem to remember she was especially "friendly" with the MC5. She was always cool to me, tho. So on the morning after I got my copy of Creem, she sees me in class and says, "hey Bob (yeah, I was Bob in those days), I saw your letter in Creem". WOW! So did she see it at Wayne Kramer's house (see earlier post) or something? Did she say, "Hey, here's a letter written by this guy in my Econ class! He's pretty cool! Can I restring your Mosrite, Wayne?" At any rate, it was my first entry to a rock & roll magazine, the best one on the planet at the time, and it got published. But unfortunately it was prior to their policy of replying to each letter published with a smartass comment. Wonder what mine would've been?

"Yeah, we feel the same way Bob. Brownsville Station are ace!

"And you're a suburban asshole!"

Coulda shoulda woulda...

THIS JUST IN ...

Sarah Palin's kids' names are coincidentally also nicknames for her va-jay-jay!

People Are Funny

In the past two weeks I have started three posts and posted none. They were all politically inclined. I hesitated, and ultimately demurred, because I've already done some pseudo-political posts (If you want real political posts, go somewhere like Huffington Post). No one cares about my views on these sort of things, just like I don't care about anyone else's; I barely care about my own.

This whole political climate that exists right now has me vexed. Women in politics? Yeah, sure, do it, I'll cheer you on. But why always the wrong ones? Or else it's stupid old white men not knowing their ass from a hole in the ground - I'm becoming one of those myself. Politics for me always seems to be a case of not knowing what I want but sho-nuff knowing what I don't want.

Geez, lookit: a political post.

I need to get back to my uproariously funny, life-changing, you-better-dig-this-type posts. That's where I shine, n'est-ce pas?

I have a lot of things happening in the next couple months. My sister is visiting from Chad next week. My daughter is releasing her debut child the week after or thereabouts. I'm going to Hawaii for two weeks in October (houserobbers, take note).

And then in November I'm going to kick some dumbass cowboy motherf$#ker and his ugly ass wife out of their house. Yippee!!