Here are a few more posts I found interesting, amusing, whatever.
Slide by and leave a comment. You don’t have to agree with ’em. It’s just blogging.
Last night I caught part of “A Tribute to James Taylor” on PBS’s Great Performances. The performers and their renderings were a mixed bag. Taylor played a few tunes at the end and, as anyone who’s seen him would predict, stole the show.
I liked Bonnie Raitt’s version of “Rainy Day Man” and Alison Krauss’ “Going to Carolina”. Keith Urban proved (to me) that he’s more than just a pretty rock-n-roll wannabe with his rendition of “Country Road”. Sting was overmatched in his attempt to cover the complex “Close Your Eyes”, but it was a fine choice of a relatively obscure Taylor tune. Bruce Springsteen’s offering of “Millworker” was powerful and another brilliant choice of Taylor’s little known material. It was a nice show but would have been exponentially better if they’d just shown a JT concert.
James Taylor is one of handful of artists that can claim complete mastery of all aspects of his craft; singing, playing, and writing. He’s also a stellar live performer. Of the three finest concerts I’ve attended over 30 years, two of them were Taylor’s. If you haven’t seen JT, you owe it to yourself to do it, especially if it’s at Mud Island (Memphis) in the rain.
Here’s a tried and true remedy for ridding yourself of unwanted guests. It works well on those who drop by unannounced, be they sales people, church people, or tipsy chicks that for whatever reason, you don’t find attractive. For that matter, it should work on just about anybody, save the very hardcore, that breachs your front door. I wouldn’t recommend this procedure if you live in an apartment, or in any other way extremely close proximity to your neighbors. Additionally, it might cause tinnitus if used too frequently. It works best on groups of two or more. You’ll need a killer stereo and a copy of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s “Tight Rope”.
Here’s what you do. Tell your visitors you have a brand new, state of the art stereo. With a big smile and adolescent-enthusiasm, ask the visitors if they “want to see how loud your new stereo will go?”. It’s almost foolproof. In my experience, they fall for it every time, probably because the stereo is “new” and they are stupid. Once they do (fall for it), cue up “Tight Rope” and set the volume just loud enough to prohibit quiet conversation. Let your eyes glaze over and try and tune your company out as best you can. Then, just as the guitar solo begins, flash a grin, and with no warning, CRANK IT! I can almost guarantee that just as little pieces of your ceiling begin fluttering down your pests will take their leave.
As noted, don’t try this in an apartment. If you do, you’ll likely exchange one set of unwanted visitors for another. (The police.) Additionally, if you don’t have “Tight Rope”, “Statesboro Blues” by the Allman Brothers Band will do nicely.
Good luck and good riddance.
There are times when I feel I’m clinging to sanity by the most frayed of threads. Most political seasons turn into these times. Strangely, though, it’s not the endless bs streaming into my mind in the form of political advertisements that’s irritating me. It is commercials, however. Two of them.
Try as I might I can’t seem to escape that bald-headed asshole who is 49, plays in a rock band, and peddles Bowflex. I hate that bastard! My disdain is stoked primarily by the “playing bass in a rock band” line. What in the hell does being a bald-headed muscle-man have to do with being a topless bass player? Is it just me, or is this commercial insulting to everybody who ever played in a rock band, because they could play, and not because they were or weren’t a muscle-man? Shit!
Even more vile is John Mellencamp’s Silverado commercial. Don’t get me wrong, I respect Mellencamp. He’s been a bright spot on the dingy rock and roll scene for almost 30 years now. But Jesus, I can’t stand to hear that freakin’ mindless bullshit tune 12 times in two hours everytime I want to watch some football. Mellencamp should be ashamed. It’s not like he needs the money. (Does he?) He’s pretty much torn his ass with me. I haven’t deleted his MP3s from my iTunes yet, but that day is coming.