BTW I’m not dead yet. Or bald.

Not to mention I hate being such a Juke Come Lately; I took a good long while to get into spouting off on the web.  Well, as a stationary target that is. Previous to WordPress offering a blog I could reliably use, I was a stationery target. Oh, yeah – and the typing. I hate typing; I can’t type for shit.  If I could, I’d have gotten acid thrown in my face by 1980. A good decade after the acid I ingested for recreational purposes. . ..

But before I retire from blogging I’d like to leave my 3 to 4 readers with the following life lessons. I learned them all much too late to help myself. Don’t let that happen to you. Here they are.

• No matter who you are, good or bad, you die. Sometimes horribly and too soon.

• If you have friends with big mouths and enough media access, they will get you a gig and/or sing your praises. Especially if there’s a payday.

• The New York Yankees (my old hometown team) are the stupidest/ greatest team of all time. Ever.

Did I mention how much I hate typing?

In my own experience the usual rationalization is updating safety costs money. If workers want safer conditions on the job, then the work force suffers in other ways – lay offs & lower wages, less benefits. Typical shit that happened in 1910, still happens. Me ranting will not bring back 25 good people. But somebody somewhere has to address why this is allowed to occur in the United States here in the 21st Century.

One summer – yeah, OK it was only a short term job- I worked at an industrial paint factory. The week before I was hired as a general laborer, the plant foreman was injured in a mixing unit accident. This turned out to be lucky for me. Once he returned, he quickly decided I wasn’t his kind of guy. By then 8 weeks had gone by and I was about to quit to return to college. It worked out for me -if you don’t count the word worked.

While I was there, I had become ill several times from fumes – something I’m still vulnerable to years later. I also had to report another guy who was smoking on the loading dock, ironically standing a few feet away from a sign which stated No Smoking. This was pre-PC no smoking as a concern for others lungs. This was about blowing the fucking place sky high. I love being a rat -really helps with co-workers. They prefer being vaporized to squealing. Machismo is big among morons.

It was no shock there would be dumb asses and dangerous work at a place with  highly flammable materials. It is another thing to predict less than salubrious conditions while say, being a radio deejay. One day while in the middle of my 4 hour show, the new owners sent in a guy to rebuild the production studio which was immediately adjacent to the air studio.* Just an open doorway. The banging & sawing was one thing -yeah, what can I say. But when he got around to the painting – see, common thread here, the fumes were getting me sick & I still had half a show to do. I was also high but not in a fun way. Those aholes didn’t give one good shit about me. It led to immediate resentment on my part. Believe me, they did not care  and had I asked them to do the work when there was no one there, no doubt I’d have been marked as a problem. That soon was the case. Why didn’t I file an OSHA** grievance? I didn’t want to be blackballed from any other stations who might hire me.

The point is, these are the same types who run mines. You need a job -you shut up and take it. Or somebody else will. I stuck it out but finally quit; we just didn’t agree on, well, everything. But in areas such as Montcoal, West Virginia, those people have families and debts. They are dependent on the mines, they have to put up with it. They also work harder than I can imagine, for giant creeps. Why are these people abused so readily by ownership who violate regulations. Because fat white fucks run this world. Somebody, somewhere, someday, with balls needs to take those suits down. Or 2010 will always be like 1910, in places like Massey Energy’s Upper Big Branch mine.

__________________________________________

* This was pre computer show programming, which could’ve done a no-human show. Which btw, computers were installed a month later.

**  Occupational Safety and Health Administration

Let me get this straight: having health insurance has been made “affordable.” Also, mandatory. Who says what is affordable? Seems a bit Nazi like to insist people must do something personal to avoid government intervention. One of the key things, which is a big deal – no insurance company can refuse you for a pre-existing condition. Other than the usual one -existing, at all.  Could get tricky for insurers, all those terminal hoboes lining up. (They won’t be doing this for life insurance ha ha ha…) Oh, hold on, there will be subsidies. Meaning loads of eligibility background checks – makes sense. Those people get paid, programming, data entry etc. Paper work will still exist in hard copy – more trees go down, sorry eco-system. More monies spent & revenue accrued for insurance companies and medicos. Pay days. . ..

Of course, if the subsidies aren’t enough, because an individual is, what’s that word? hmmm poor? What about destitute? will homeless people be rounded up because they have now officially become guilty of a crime more venal than loitering, vagrancy and poor hygiene? OK the last one is a health risk. What if you failed at life and just have very little money? Uh oh. You’re an outlaw.

Seems this new Health Care reform is to health as “reform” was/is to Reform School (which used to be the institution juvenile offenders were incarcerated, now it has a new name – prison). Instead of the old fashioned misery of being ill and eventually dying, you’re a criminal if you don’t get insured even with federally complicated “help.” I’m guessing now, if one was previously eligible for state free clinic aid, they’ll need your insurer or no soap. No dope. No hope. That is an improvement. Anyone know for whom?

This all looks like a not so thinly veiled legal means to attach any and all possessions of anyone who falls in a dark hole of not being able to pay for something. It’s double jeopardy of the worst kind. Sick? no low low low cost health plan? don’t eat. Don’t pay rent. Starve & be homeless too. All seems to end up the same place – jail. Or dead. Not necessarily in that order. Government gets your house and car – if at one point you were able to own any. Maybe because you had a job, got downsized or conveniently terminated just before you were vested & replaced by a 22 year old. The stress of failing and subsequently not finding a job, made you ill? tough luck. But even Mickey D’s fires your ass if you don’t show up. Or blow chunks where the patrons can see. But you can’t sit home (if you have one) spending whatever savings you have left on Ramen noodles, listening to lame radio (still free -for now) and die in peace. No, not anymore. You’ll be fined. If you can’t pay? then what Mr. Obama? Got a plan? See above ( Feds take house etc.) Did I mention Nazi Germany lately?

Somebody in a suit, no doubt fat , smoking a fatter cigar and still probably “white,” is raking green off this deal. If they aren’t, then it’s something even more malevolent. Probably is. Well, hey, if I am any accurate observer of human behavior, we’re all supposed to die anyway. In a strange coincidence noted over-acter, actor Al Pacino has the lead rôle in a new TV bio-pic You Don’t Know Jack – portraying suicide machine entrepreneur Dr. Jack Kevorkian. Boy, we sure could use somebody like him right about now. At least an affordable home version of the machine. Will they subsidize those? noooooo! suicide is a felony. And, again with the double jeopardy! a mortal sin for those 3 or 4 dozen remaining Roman Catholics. Soon, not buying insurance will be a sin and a felony too.

There’s a lot to live for in the great American future (cough bullshit cough). I ought to see a doctor about that cough. But I’m an outlaw just like Jesse James. All of them.  Let’s see who I could call for an appointment, you know in case I can pay for this excellent low end health insurance I have to have or get fined my food & rent allowance. Hey! this guy Dr. Robert Ford, is right in my neighborhood. I’ll just have to remember not to straighten any crooked pictures in his office. . ..

Te morituri salutamus

Speaking of Virginia Tech – voted again the college and/or university most likely to spawn a pyscho-killer, after driving by there for a few years I got the feeling all those satellite dish arrays weren’t just for TV in the dorms. And the fact they have state of the art super computers in a lab. There’s also those rumors. But I am here to discuss the Middle Atlantic states weather.

I often joked I had only 3 listeners. It was more like a few thousand, depending on if we were actually on the air. Only 3 of them liked me. This one time, at radio camp, I was doing the show when a small burst of light came through the transmitter studio – in our small operation, that was just the other side of the studio window. Suddenly I heard a sound like a cement mixer in agony. Since I was reasonably sure, I wasn’t making that noise, or dead, my next thought was “uh oh.”

That transmitter was pretty fucked up before it got hit by lightning. Eventually we got a fancy new one, along with fancy new ownership. Which is a whole other story. The relevance here is, the new people once famously told me not to announce the weather by saying “looking out the window. . ..” My snappy comeback was “in case you hadn’t noticed, we don’t have a weather service contract.” They were assholes. Again, I digress.

Anyway, I routinely would tell my audience to concentrate and i.e. prevent that ice storm from happening. If only I’d thought to add “prevent me from losing this gig!” Proof, despite the opinions of some, I think of others first. Or I’m retarded. Either way, that group effort worked. A lot. A few years later, a small article about NOAA said their computer programs were a bit off during that time period, due to budget cutbacks. Sigh. Delusional, yet again.

What I really want to know is – which one of you motherfuckers pissed off God so much? I don’t care much for records, but since they started keeping track of snowfall amounts in 1884, we are on the verge of worst Winter ever & there are 6 weeks left! This is Groundhog Day all over again. All over. Again. I thought the mailman looked a lot like Bill Murray. That is when and if he shows up. Personally, I’d rather have Andie McDowell deliver my mail. Or just deliver.

Was it my Haiti post? Nah, you should see the succinct, on point Letter to the Editor in this week’s TIME Magazine regarding Haiti. Dude, nailed it. Plus I said that really excellent thing about swapping suits for kids who could play baseball. Not to mention, who caused the earthquake Big G? maybe they have secret labs in Port au Prince!If Haiti had American football, I’d have the smoking gun. For real.

I joked about my roof caving in last post. It was me, whistling past the graveyard – and I’m puckered up all right. But I ain’t whistling Dixie. Cause this don’t feel like Dixie to me. I still think it’s all that bad Karma for slavery. Or VA Tech. Possibly all three.

* VA Tech has an airport – yep you guessed it. Just down the road…

Yes, the Super Bowl. The New Orleans Saints, winning it for the recovering post-diluvian party town, home to jazz & the annual Mardi Gras & beads for boobs in Louisiana by the levy. Took four years after the flood, but hey! As I mentioned in the first graph, they’ll be nitpicking this one awhile. I’m not into football unless a NY/NJ (that’s a hot potato still) team is in it – knee jerk reaction from when I was 11 and cared. Though I’m not hard hearted, I’m glad the Saints won. To be really honest, owing to another unalterable circumstance, I decided to tune in on radio to what would be the final 10 minutes of the game.

Ten minutes in a football game usually runs like 47 in real time. Foreign readers who don’t even call what the NFL does, football, I’m referring to official game clock time. Anyway, even though I’m not into football, no matter which continent or rules, I was listening. It’s also odd how I managed to call every thing that happened before it did. As hubris laden as that reads, it is factual. I missed that the 2 point conversion, initially ruled as a failed attempt, would be overturned by officials when challenged by New Orleans head coach Sean Payton. Which got me thinking and rolled out the rest of my ESP.

Let me be the first to call this a scripted game. Yeah, sure, you can believe what you like. But when the NFL adds a team from Haiti in 2015 -the Haiti Quakes – and they win Super Bowl 49, give me a call. What? the world ain’t ending in 2012. If you correct the flaws in the calendar made by Christian weirdos (as opposed to the kinds we have now). This is 2012! Just because we’re getting all this fucking snow doesn’t mean the world is ending. Mine might though if my roof caves in. Or I do another ice induced full length body slam on myself.

The US Postal Service, not among my fave organizations after they lost a third package for me, has had 3 days of non-service this Winter. Whatever happened to the Post Office motto -”Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” Turns out that saying I used to see on a Post Office wall in New York City, was just for appearances. It really isn’t the USPS mission statement! it was taken from the Greek father of historians Herodotus, who was referring to the Persian version of an ancient Pony Express. Those wily Pathans – they are everywhere. Also, not all that much snow in the Middle East on a regular basis. Hold on – not the wet & cold kind anyway, of which there is 20 inches residing in my yard. If it was the other “snow” I’d be on Bourbon Street right now partying with hopefully hot chicks & not dudes dressed as hot chicks. Either way Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in the Bronx anymore.

Due to the vagaries of said postal deliveries, compounded by lameass Federal Holidays on Mondays, I decided to put NetFlix on hold until Spring. I was getting shafted and not getting new releases because of the weather, the USPS and assholes who get a NetFlix title and keep it for a few months.If any of you jerkoffs happen to read this: NetFlix doesn’t have an endless supply of Doc Martin Series 3. How about getting your fat ass to the mailbox. I would like to say, NetFlix customer reps are the best I have ever encountered, no exaggeration or sarcasm intended. I mean it.

While I know I’m not the only person in my peculiar situation – trapped in 1990 technology (and that’s on a good day when the power isn’t out, then it’s 1790), just as with my personal philosophical bent, there aren’t many who still have dial up, only one phone line – a copper phone line which neutralizes DSL optimization, a location with no cable hook up nearby, and can’t get satellite TV due to trees. That’s why I was listening to the last quarter of the Super Bowl on radio. No bandwidth to listen to some wacky podcast, because I was downloading one. Only took 5 hours. Since I think the game was fixed & my DL finally finished, I thought I’d post a swell new blog all about it. At least the roof is holdi**

My boat! not my @#%&*! boat!

* Moonlight Mile (© Jagger/Richards)

** see the word not being completed, indicates a deus ex machina moment. Hey! this is a low tech op…

My topic here is a criticism he made about me. Some background is necessary. I get an email from him with an MP3 of a song attached. The story is, he* decided to watch a program featuring a young male recording act because he knew the singer’s father. They share a religious affiliation (which I choose not to name – to eliminate any bias) and though I wasn’t too clear on whether or not the singer’s songs are in a genre which also reflect this religion, that aspect is not critical to my point.

In my colleague’s opinion, the kid was decent but pretty much standard fare. However during the show, the young man generously thanked his back up vocalists, two women who had their own career and CD. This prompts my pal to Google them and he finds one of their original songs. Proceeds to describe their song in great detail, informing me how he could make it a better song, the potential he feels they have musically. If only, he says, he was still in the business; he’d like to produce them. He attached the song (the aforementioned MP3), which he edited into a version, he thought removed the excessive strumming & sameness of sound, we both have agreed many times, is found too often in “folkie” songs.

I listened. I thought it sounded like almost every sweet, sensitive female duo I’d ever heard since 1970. The song’s Chorus started with a good lyric/melodic hook using a “horses” metaphor, that drifted into meh. Verses I felt were thin melodically, lyrics a little too 20something for my taste, but well written if not exciting. I report all this to him in my reply. Adding that I had, within recent memory, written two songs myself employing horse imagery, and frankly, mine were mucho better. Meaning, I couldn’t necessarily get that enthused about a lesser attempt.

That’s where the contention arose. He says- “This isn’t about you.” Apparently I wasn’t allowed to inject myself into my critique. Hmmm OK. Did I miss something? or am I wrong in the view, his initial email, included his very own, self? I think I’m willing to be helped here in my understanding. Maybe.  Depends.

When some individual applies a bumper sticker phrase to something I do or say, I admit I rankle. A lot. “This isn’t all about you.” What does that mean? When a person gives an opinion or expresses a concern, what is the origin source? God? Rush (Limbaugh or the rock band)?  When I speak, it is generated from my intellect and life experience. Am I supposed to give someone else’s opinion? or agree, just to get along? Hardly anybody ever does that when I make the initial point. In fact, I’ve sent songs to that same guy. He never even acknowledges I sent them, much less gives me feedback. Or offers a wish he could produce. Sob. . ..**

Now that last thing. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. That’s not his life long m.o. But sure, that’s a possibility. Could I have missed the email in which he said- “ don’t send anymore of your lame songs?” I don’t think so. Again, maybe. You never know. If I’m being direct here – I think most other humans don’t really listen or pay attention. They don’t want the burden of real thought when it comes to friends. They save it for family and work. Friends are supposed to be yes-ers. I’m guilty of it occasionally. But typically I adopt this as a defense, after years of taking crap from somebody. For sure, everyone from family and friends to strangers, even those unsolicited non-music business individuals, have felt free to critique, if not outright attack my work. I guess I should be happy, that is all about me. They are completely unattached and unbiased on those occasions. If they liked the song, used it and it made money, they’d give it all to Haiti. Not even take a producer credit. Or demand their name is added as a co-writer “ …how it’s done buddy – take it or leave it.” Yeah, right. Not really.

Maybe when they tell me my song(s) are derivative or weak. Or suck. They are actually saying “This is not my opinion. This is what everyone who might ever hear this will think” or “If John Lennon were still alive and  heard your song, this would likely kill him ” and “ My dad hasn’t heard this, but if he did, he’d say ‘…hope this guy doesn’t quit his day job.’ ”

Fortunately, I don’t have the budget to add the WordPress widget allowing me to include audio files on this blog. I’m probably arrogant/confident/stupid enough to let you have a listen. You’d be permitted to consult Simon Cowell, get his jaded POV. Of course we both know why I don’t have the discretionary income for it. My songs suck. If only I knew somebody who would produce them for me. WOW! maybe it is running a gauntlet!

I guess that was all about me. Oh look, an email with an MP3. . ..

* he he he which oddly rhymes with me me me – it’s onomatopeic, musical & ironic

** NOTE: that is the word “sob” – not a heavy handed/ veiled S.O.B. I’d never call him that – I loved his mom

This now has also stirred up Adolphus Busch IV, one of the Busch family (owned the Cardinals 1953-1996) and legendary former Cards manager Whitey Herzog. Herzog aka The White Rat is from the old school. His methods for getting a better performance from a player was by chewing tobacco and letting ‘em play ball. AS for that bunch of Busch’s – they make Budweiser beer. Beer never affected anybody’s performance much. Unless you count drunk driving & spousal abuse.

If media types like Rosenthal & Gammons, who are actually proven to be savvy and wired into all things MLB – can pretend they didn’t know about McGwire’s PED use back then, they can now pretend to forgive him and STFU. Those two could’ve mainlined ‘roids when they were both age 21 & still never once touched a big league fastball in BP, let alone a game. Much less hit one out of the park fair.  McGwire regrettably chose a route more than a few took in the era he played. But the holier than thou boys are all upset because their game was tainted. Specifically, the once rarified single season homerun mark. The same homerun mark, Barry “If they can, I can too” Bonds broke a few years later. Also while denying any PED use. Unlike McGwire, Bonds never pretended to be a nice guy. Points for that one B. Sadly, points not counting toward HOF votes.

I agree it would be a sweeter world if nobody cheated – just ask Tiger Woods. If McGwire had dogged around on the missus, but never ate a pep pill with a long ball in mind, Gammons & Rosenthal would be fine with it. You know, because even though they wouldn’t condone adultery, that was an off the field foul ball. And not something that is held against a player seeking Hall of Fame cred.

Here’s my opinion – if you ever wore a suit & tie to a baseball game, you should never be allowed an opinion that matters regarding an individual who actually played the sport. Regardless of whether or not said player was doping himself so he might continue to heal from injuries incurred on the job. If you also wear those stupid asshole black laced leather shoes – wingtips or brogans – you should be forced to emigrate to Haiti, in exchange for some Haitian kid who can hit and/or throw a Major League curveball. Hey! I just proof read that – what a great idea. Get on it Clooney.

-30-

Leno, who is from Massachusetts, styled himself a blue collar type – he collects and rides motorcycles. I try not hold the former against him; the latter is just meh. He’s a load. Do I need to repeat here what’s been going on? Though he’s not really old at 60, he’s now fighting TV show retirement for all he’s worth. Which to his employers isn’t much as based on current Nielsen ratings. He cost a lot to keep going though. BTW I once filled out a Nielsen diary -wow! are they cheapwads.

Conan O’Brien, not to be confused with the new Conan the Barbarian, is also from Mass. However, he blew past his Irish mither’s(sic) dreams of him becoming a priest and after getting a Harvard degree became a comedy writer for The Simpsons followed by a job at Saturday Night Live. When David Letterman (CBS)left because NBC wouldn’t promise him the TNS(Tonight Show) desk when Johnny Carson retired, O’Brien was the shocking replacement for Dave’s post TNS slot. He did good. Until now.

I’m not here to talk about Conan – I like him. He is everything, Leno is not. Starting with talented. Leno’s dithering and NBC’s stupid suits have combined to shoe horn O’Brien out of 30 Rock (the Manhattan corporate offices of NBC -not the show) & its Hollywood studio. He’ll land on his feet, as soon as the non-compete clause is over.

Letterman, who just went through his own highly public laundry bill – which, while potentially damaging,  paid off in higher ratings. Part of the reason NBC was freaking out over Leno’s prime time debacle and Conan’s floundering attempts to find an audience outside his demo 18-49 year old males (Leno’s was 50+ women – the polar opposite!). Dave took some well deserved shots at Jay – those two went at it before, when Jay got  the TNS. Letterman was wittier, but Leno got the win, most of the ratings books. In TV that’s all that matters, it dictates ad revenue. That is the matter.

Leno has fired back, taking cheap shots at Dave’s marital/mistress/blackmail woes. Neglecting, of course, to acknowledge, Dave has thrived due to his cool under fire. Something Leno hasn’t done. Just in the last 24 hours, Leno has said he’s “chosen to stay on the Titanic.” If only he’d been attached to the bow of that ill fated ship -his chin would’ve cut that ice berg and spared all those lives. James Cameron would’ve been pissed off though. Avatar might’ve looked more like My Little Pony than Ferngully! [jk jk]

I sympathize somewhat with Leno feeling as if he still has something left on his fastball, though I am firmly in the O’Brien camp. It is the norm that an employer owns the rights to all things created under its purview. Wherever Conan sits down and resumes spritzing, once the red light goes on, he won’t have his signature bits. Unlike Leno, this will stimulate O’Brien – he’ll think of something and it won’t be to rip off the TNS original TV talk comedic genius, Steve Allen. Sure Steve was smug and looked like your dad, but he was Steve Allen. Leno is just a lumpen prole in denim. One who doesn’t know how to quit when he’s a chin – er, I mean ahead. . ..