...I'd Be Rich

Precocious Daughter had never heard Barenaked Ladies' "If I Had $1 Million." I considered that a major deficiency in her upbringing, so this morning I introduced the song to her.

And it reminded me how much I love love love this song.

So even though I try to avoid Video Saturday posts because I don't like having eggs thrown at me by disgruntled Drunkards (say that three times fast), this song makes me feel so damn good that I've got to share it.

Besides...haven't you always wanted a monkey?

I Am in No Way, Shape, or Form Irish

Happy St. Patrick's Day!


Just for you, this image of a drunk leprechaun puking Lucky Charms.

Beloved Spouse's mom is 100% Irish, which means that BelSpouse is fully half Irish. It also means that Precocious Daughter is a solid one-quarter Irish.

I on the other hand have not a drop of green blood in me.


Fact: This image proves you can find a picture of
anything on the Internet.

I am of German descent. German and a smidge of Polish on my daddy's side, German and a smidge of English on my mom's side. I am so damn German I regulary have to fight off the urge to annex the Sudetenland.

A region of ethnic German majority in the former Czechoslovakia, ceded to Nazi Germany in 1938
and a precursor to Hitler's invasion of the country in 1939, which led to the start of World War II.
Hmmm, so my reference is probably in poor taste. I blame Monty Python.

Anyway, I have no ethnic basis for celebrating St. Patrick's Day. Although the Germans and the Irish do share a cultural heritage of eating lots of damn potatoes.

Caption: Lots of damn potatoes.

And let's not forget the ultimate melding of German and Irish sensibilities: the Reuben sandwich.


Corned beef and sauerkraut, baby. Add in the Swiss cheese and the Russian dressing,
and you've got the United Nations on rye.

Of course, sauerkraut is an abomination upon the Earth and I will not eat it. In fact, since I love me some tasty, lean corned beef, I'm kind of pissed at sauerkraut for ruining the Reuben for me. Couldn't the Germans have found something else to do with their cabbage...like destroying the cabbage farms and then salting the earth where they once stood?


I mean, coleslaw? Who thought this shit was a good idea?


The point is, don't kiss me, I'm not Irish. I guess. I'm not sure I have a point here. Oh, I do love Bailey's Irish Cream. And Bono. And that song about the unicorns. So, for no good reason, let's all celebrate the Irish today.

And now if you'll excuse me, I've hidden all the green clothes in my house, so I've got some pinching to do.

***

Note: After being told by several Drunkards that they HATE and LOATHE my Video Saturday posts, I'm discontinuing them. So no more videos on Saturday. Nope.



Kiss.

Video Saturday: Space Oddity (Live)

For the record, I'm jealous of Mr. Bowie's shirt, his hair, his bi-colored eyes, his voice, his snakelike hips (when you're describing his hips, they are always snakelike...look it up), and his 12-string guitar.

Other than that, I just think this is a really cool clip of David Bowie performing "Space Oddity," which the YouTube poster claims was his first TV appearance. Did I mention his hair? I want that hair. OK, then.

Video Saturday: Cuddly Toy

I was going to use today's Video Saturday to make a commentary on Rush Limbaugh's attack on Georgetown law student Sandra Fluke. But I couldn't find a song called "You Stupid Fat Fucking Troll Take Your Hateful Demagoguery and a Habanero Suppository and Shove Them Both Up Your Ass and I Hope Your Insurance Doesn't Cover Emergency Rectal Surgery."

So instead I'm going to post a Monkees video to honor Davy Jones, whose death this week continues to make me so, so sad. This is one of my favorite songs, and a wonderful performance by Davy.

I'm also going to go off and write a song called "Geddy Lee Should Sue Rush Limbaugh for Defaming the Name of His Awesome Band by Being Such a Fucking Asshole." Key of G, I think.

I love you, Davy.

Video Saturday: When We Was Fab

Happy Birthday, George. You was fab.

Video Saturday: I Will Survive

For those of you who don't know, my ego resembles this:

See other way-cool pictures like this at
http://www.stonebalancing.com/gallery.php

Where the top boulder represents all the things I do, and the bottom boulder represents other people's harsh judgment of what I do, and the tiny little spot at which the two boulders meet represents the things I actually do well in the flat, cold, unfeeling eyes of the world.


This would also be a not-inaccurate depiction of my ego strength.

In truth, the list of things I don't do well is rather extensive. Driving, painting, raising a child, performing open-heart surgery...sometimes you just have to get by on the talents you have. I'm open to constructive criticism on all these things. Because, hey, I don't want to run down the elderly when I'm behind the wheel if I can possibly avoid it. I'm willing to embrace my shortcomings in these areas and not feel too badly about them.

There are some things I don't do well that I really wish I did. I wish I had a better singing voice. I wish I could play guitar. I wish I understood programming in C++. I feel these shortcomings a bit more keenly than others because I'd like to have more talent in all of these areas. That's not the way the dice rolled when I was being made. Bummer, but OK.


And juggling. I always wanted to be good at juggling.

But don't tell me I can't write. Tell me you hate my writing, tell me there are other writers better than me, tell me I need to work harder at writing if I ever want to be a success at it. Not a problem.

But don't tell me I can't write, motherfucker. Because that tiny little point between the two boulders consists almost entirely of the gift God gave me to expressing myself in writing. And I will protect that delicately balanced spot like a mama tiger protecting her cub. Love me or loathe me, follow me or ignore me; I don't need your affirmation to know that I was blessed with a single talent in this life. It's more than part of me. It's me.

And even if you're someone I know and love and whose support and favor I crave deeply, I won't take shit from you about this. Tell me I can't sing, or drive, or make decent pancakes. Ouch, but OK. We can still hang. But there's a line in the sand, except it's actually written on paper with a pen (or on a computer screen with the underline key, if you will). Cross it, and I'm gone.

And I'm OK with that.


Cake - I Will Survive

Video Saturday: Propinquity

It was twenty years ago this month (and damned if I can remember the exact date) that Bestest Friend and I saw Michael Nesmith perform in Boston. It was absolutely freaking magical.


Complete aside: If you haven't seen the episode of "The Monkees"
where Nesmith interviews Frank Zappa, you have zero credibility
with me. (Go YouTube it. I'm busy.)

 This is how the mind works: I don't remember the date of the show, or the venue (it was a very small club with a funky vibe, which probably narrows it down to about 300 places in Boston), but I remember that I wore an oversized tweed jacket with shoulder pads, a short blue skirt, tights, and a very Hilary-esque headband. It was 1992, but fashion was still stuck in the 80s.


OMG, slap a headband on the model on the right,
and basically I was wearing the outfit from this
1992 sewing pattern. Wow.

Anyway, the Nez had released two greatest hits CDs - The Newer Stuff and The Older Stuff. And in the bizarre quantum mathematics of time, the stuff on The Newer Stuff is now older than the stuff on The Older Stuff was then. Please tell me that makes sense - all I've had for breakfast is coffee and frosting (don't ask). But he was touring in support of The Older Stuff, which he actually released after The Newer Stuff. That's it, I'm ending this paragraph now.

Part of the reason my memory of the show is so spotty is that I was sick as a dog that weekend. But I had spent some ungodly amount of money on a plane ticket at a time when I was actually unemployed, and I was in the coolest city on the planet (almost) with my Bestest Friend, and I wasn't going to let the fact that it was February in Boston and I had the flu stop me from enjoying myself. I do recall fighting to get a seat at the bar because I could barely stand and then absolutely bitching out some chick who waltzed in at the last moment and stationed herself directly in my line of sight. I don't like confrontation, but I was running a fever and she was blocking my view of Michael Nesmith. Bitch.


Do not mess with me. Srsly.

 One of my all-time favorite songs - not just by Michael Nesmith but by anybody - is "Propinquity (I've Just Begun to Care)." The Nez is a vastly talented and intelligent man, but he's also a bit of a pedant. He once bragged in an interview that he had used the word "impel" in a pop song. A wee bit pretentious in the lyrics department, is what I'm saying. Which is fine, because it's resulted in some amazing songwriting over the years. I mean, "Propinquity"? C'mon, Mike. If you mean "close proximity or kinship," then just say it. Especially since you don't actually use the title word anywhere in the song.

A lyrical affectation we refer to as "Led Zeppelin Syndrome."

However, it's a gorgeous, gorgeous song. I found this absolutely lovely live version of it to share with you today, but by all means seek out the original version he recorded with the First National Band on Nevada Fighter (1971). Beautiful song, great melody, perfect lyrics, and that beautiful, distinctive voice.

Pompous-ass title. But I can work with that. Enjoy.

Video Saturday: Have Mercy Baby

Oh my, I found a treat today.

I was trolling YouTube for a live performance by the great Clyde McPhatter. Which, it turns out, is not an easy thing to find. But when I did, I hit the jackpot. I found a clip from a Bobby Darin special that aired in the UK in 1960.

Wait, what? Bobby Darin and Clyde McPhatter? I know this is going to sound terribly obscure to Drunkards who are under, say, 150 years old, but I'm not sure there are any two greater voices from early rock and roll than those of Bobby Darin and Clyde McPhatter. These two great talents both died tragically young and about a year apart. Their legacies are immeasurable. Do you dig Michael Buble? Thank Bobby Darin. Do you love Bruno Mars? He's got that Clyde McPhatter high tenor down. Seriously, these cats are canon.

Yeah, I'm gushing.

So rather than  listening to me, here's Clyde McPhatter with Bobby Darin providing wicked piano and vocal accompaniment on "Have Mercy Baby" (from Clyde's days with the Dominoes). Love love LOVE.

Video Saturday: Life By the Drop

There are a lot of ways to get to where you're going, and no guarantees you'll ever find the right path.

Video Saturday: These Days

Oh holy cow, do I love Foo Fighters.


Holy freaking cow.

 Because Dave Grohl was clearly the one with all the talent in Nirvana. Yeah, I said it. And even if he weren't, hey, he's still around to cash in because he didn't have a hissy fit and punch his own ticket when he was 27.


RIP Kurt Cobain, shown here with the daughter to whom he said
"Fuck you" when she was 16 months old.

End rant. Back to Foo Fighters. This band gets it. Gets rock, gets musicianship, gets making albums that sound like albums and not individual data packets meant to be downloaded into some damn iPod. Their new album Wasting Light is amazing. Get it. What? Yes, you can download it, but you have to download all of it. There's a reason it's called AOR. Or used to be. Damn, I'm old. But you know what? Dave Grohl turned 43 last weekend - happy belated birthday, man. He's my age, and he rocks.

And he's hot. I mean, Dave Grohl is hot. Wow.

Anyway, their latest single is "These Days," and I love it. And because Foo Fighters is a band that sounds kick-ass live, here's a live performance of it. Also, because it's such an amazing performance overall, I'll forgive that Dave is a little flat on the verses. Also because he's hot. Yeah.

Video Saturday: Little Girl Blue

Some days no one can do it for you like Janis. I mean, damn. If I could sing like that I would never stop.

Video Saturday: I've Had It Up to Here with Men

Sometimes you're just in the mood for a really sweet love song.

By the way, if you've never seen/heard "The Secret Policeman's Ball" (1979) or "The Secret Policeman's Other Ball" (1982), the amazing Amnesty International benefit shows featuring the best comedians and musicians in Great Britain, go find them. Bestest Friend and I had the tape, the record, the book...and we wore them the hell out during the 80s, when life was fine. BF actually reminded me of this song not long ago, and I've been dying to post it here ever since. Thank you, Victoria Wood. Take it away.

Video Saturday: Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)

For the last Video Saturday post of 2011, I give you the best message I can think of, delivered in the best way I know.

Take it away, George.

Video Saturday: Kind and Generous

Damn, I'm a lucky person.

I have such wonderful, supportive people in my life. They love me and stick with me, even when - especially when - I don't deserve their faith in me.

I have a lot to learn from other people.

Yes, Thanksgiving was almost a month ago, but I just have to say...Thank you, thank you.

Don't forget to say thank you to the people who love you. And an occasional apology, for your crimes against love both general and specific, doesn't hurt either. Or let Natalie Merchant do it for you. She probably has a prettier voice than you, and she dances funny.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...

Video Saturday: Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through

I love Jim Steinman. He writes big, operatic pop songs with long titles. He's most famous for collaborating with Meat Loaf on the epic Bat Out of Hell album and writing powerhouse tunes like "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" and "Paradise by the Dashboard Light." But he also wrote Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart," Air Supply's "Making Love (Out of Nothing At All)," Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now," and again for Meat Loaf, "I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)." And now that you've read that list, you can't get Jim Steinman out of your head, right? Yeah, he does that to you.

The song "Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through," which he recorded himself in 1981 (although he doesn't actually sing it, oh and Meat Loaf covered it later, 'cause that's what he did), is one of my all-time favorite songs. I recently rediscovered it while compiling a playlist of power-pop tracks on Rhapsody. I haven't been able to stop playing it. Love love love this song. The bonus for our purposes here is that it has perhaps the most wonderfuly ridiculous, cheesy, awful video ever. Brace yourself: this is awesome in ways that can't be described but only experienced.

Enjoy.

Video Saturday: Sunday Morning Coming Down

Yesterday I wrote of the death of actor Bill McKinney, whose claim to fame was the "squeal like a pig" scene in Deliverance. But he also had a great part in one of my favorite episodes of "Columbo," in which Johnny Cash plays a wife-murdering gospel singer named Tommy Brown. In the episode Cash sings the absolutely sublime "Sunday Morning Coming Down," and the song has been in my head ever since.

So here it is, as written by Kris Kristofferson and sung by the Man in Black on his TV show. The world misses your voice, Mr. Cash. Boy howdy.

Video Saturday: This Will Be Our Year

Odessey and Oracle by The Zombies is one of my desert island discs. It maybe the great lost album of the 60s - overshadowed by Sgt. Pepper's but completely its equal in terms of songcraft. Almost everyone knows the track "Time of the Season," which was the band's last hit, released after they had actually broken up. If anything, as fantastic as the song is, it's the worst track on the album. Get yourself a copy of Odessey and Oracle, either the original 1967 mono or the 1997 stereo remaster. You'll be glad you did. And yeah, the misspelling in the title drives me nuts. :)

"This Will Be Our Year" is quite simply one of the greatest love songs in popular music. OK Go did a nice cover version a couple of years ago, but nothing holds a candle to the original. I love, love, love this song. Hope you do, too.

Video Saturday: The Scientist

As I always say, when the going gets tough, the tough listen to Coldplay.

Today's video is a dedication to someone special, with the message that life doesn't go backwards.



Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard. Chin up, baby. You don't know how lovely you are.

Video Saturday: Wonderwall

I love Oasis. I wish Noel and Liam Gallagher hadn't spent so many years trying to kill each other. The band might still be around. At least we got the characters of Charlie and Liam Pace on "Lost" out of their completely mad relationship.


Except really, "You All Everybody" was a pretty sucky song.

 I heard "Wonderwall" on the radio last week, and it's been in my head ever since. This may be one of the most perfect pop songs ever. The lyrics, the melody, the arrangement, the production - they all work together so beautifully. And Liam Gallagher has a great voice, in that it's expressive and distinctive without being technically perfect. Did I mention the lyrics? I've been singing this song under my breath for days.

The video for "Wonderwall" is arty and pretentious and self-consciously hip. That's the very best kind of video, except for ones with Paul McCartney cameos at the end. Which would have been way cool here. After all, Oasis worshiped at the altar of the Beatles. Missed opportunity, lads.

Anyway, from my head to your ears, enjoy the dysfunctional Gallagher brothers and their band on "Wonderwall."

Video Saturday: They Don't Know

Here's what's important in my world right now:

Bestest Friend is here!!

Metropolis is tonight!!

I still don't have my freaking Snickers Peanut Butter Squares!!

Today's video is, like, the best video ever. Because Tracey Ullman is fabulous, and I want every one of those outfits she's wearing. And I want to drive in a tiny English car with Paul McCartney. And this song brings back so many memories of me and Bestest Friend driving around in her orange Bug being silly. Children: The 80s were awesome. Don't let anyone tell you different. (Also, children should not be reading this blog. Seriously. What are your parents thinking?)



Have a wonderful Saturday, Drunkards!