I like Van Halen pre Sammy Hagar, and I like Sammy Hagar pre Van Halen. Go figure.
I won't ruin it for you by saying too much about it, but really, you should watch this video. Trust me.
The video was made by this guy, and he's got plenty more to keep you enthralled for awhile.
May I suggest starting with this video?
Oh yeah, and even though I'm pretty pleased with myself for coming up with that opening line, the truth is that I wrote Van Halen off at Diver Down, and gave up on Sammy after he wrote I Can't Drive 55.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Original Sin
There is a new music blog looming on the horizon, and upon hearing about it, prompted me to have at least one entry dedicated to music, and share one of my favorite stories.
Sometime around the end of 1985 or beginning of 1986, my friend Ken and I made one of our monthly trips to the Record Vault on Polk Street in San Francisco, a haven of all things Metal; records, posters, and a much talked about 'Demo' cassette section.
There would always be a colorful assortment of Underground Metalheads hanging out and, of course, band members.
Lars Ulrich was in the store hanging out with the owners and talking about working on the follow up to the Metallica album Ride The Lightning (the album they were putting the finishing touches on would become Master Of Puppets).
Ken asked Lars to sign a poster he just bought, to which Lars replied "For a small financial contribution." He was a dick. Really. When Ken pointed to himself on the poster he was having him sign (it was a live shot), Lars couldn't have cared any less. I suppose that's fine, he can act however he'd like, but it just made us comment about how big of a jerk he was.
My favorite Record Vault story doesn't involve Metallica though, even though being 15, talking with one of the members of one of my favorite bands at the time while they were working on an album that would eventually stay on an endless loop for much of 1986 is probably pretty great, it can't top our chance meeting with the band Sin.
We met Steve Johnson and Dave Kong the day they were bringing their freshly printed single to the store for sale. (I have to admit shock at finding a link here, and makes this post even more grand, and really, should probably warrant a post devoted entirely to Mr. Kong)
"Can we get you to autograph it?" we asked. Unlike Lars, they were cool and proudly signed what was sure to be a much sought after limited release single someday.
Check out that photo shoot; marble busts, goblets, columns, cobra statues, and grapes. Good Lord (ha!) this photo shoot has it all!
As Ken and I made our way back over the Bay Bridge, we had a laugh talking about the silly declarations of the autographs; mine with Religion Sucks, and Ken's with an even more simply stated Fuck God.
Of course, that didn't even come close to preparing us for what the record itself looked like. I think Ken about drove right off of the bridge as I pulled the vinyl from it's sleeve.
The funny thing about putting this post together is how familiar the songs are and how well worn the single is.
The 'A' Side
Damn The Preacher
The 'B' Side
Night Caller
I guess the joke's on me though. I thought the boys were just following the fad in Metal of the day, but Dave Kong is still flying that flag. Oh yeah, he's still flying that God-awful (ha! again) haircut too.
Sometime around the end of 1985 or beginning of 1986, my friend Ken and I made one of our monthly trips to the Record Vault on Polk Street in San Francisco, a haven of all things Metal; records, posters, and a much talked about 'Demo' cassette section.
There would always be a colorful assortment of Underground Metalheads hanging out and, of course, band members.
Lars Ulrich was in the store hanging out with the owners and talking about working on the follow up to the Metallica album Ride The Lightning (the album they were putting the finishing touches on would become Master Of Puppets). Ken asked Lars to sign a poster he just bought, to which Lars replied "For a small financial contribution." He was a dick. Really. When Ken pointed to himself on the poster he was having him sign (it was a live shot), Lars couldn't have cared any less. I suppose that's fine, he can act however he'd like, but it just made us comment about how big of a jerk he was.
My favorite Record Vault story doesn't involve Metallica though, even though being 15, talking with one of the members of one of my favorite bands at the time while they were working on an album that would eventually stay on an endless loop for much of 1986 is probably pretty great, it can't top our chance meeting with the band Sin.
We met Steve Johnson and Dave Kong the day they were bringing their freshly printed single to the store for sale. (I have to admit shock at finding a link here, and makes this post even more grand, and really, should probably warrant a post devoted entirely to Mr. Kong)
"Can we get you to autograph it?" we asked. Unlike Lars, they were cool and proudly signed what was sure to be a much sought after limited release single someday.
Check out that photo shoot; marble busts, goblets, columns, cobra statues, and grapes. Good Lord (ha!) this photo shoot has it all!
As Ken and I made our way back over the Bay Bridge, we had a laugh talking about the silly declarations of the autographs; mine with Religion Sucks, and Ken's with an even more simply stated Fuck God.
Of course, that didn't even come close to preparing us for what the record itself looked like. I think Ken about drove right off of the bridge as I pulled the vinyl from it's sleeve.
The funny thing about putting this post together is how familiar the songs are and how well worn the single is.
The 'A' Side
Damn The Preacher
The 'B' Side
Night Caller
I guess the joke's on me though. I thought the boys were just following the fad in Metal of the day, but Dave Kong is still flying that flag. Oh yeah, he's still flying that God-awful (ha! again) haircut too.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I Said "Ouch! This Really Hurts."
After Terry broke my front tooth in half with his wooden leg, and after I jumped off of his roof and broke both of my arms and ruptured my spleen, and after I spent about a month in the hospital, and after I had to relearn to walk, and after I got home and my dog Buddy bit off half of my face, and after I sat in the Doctor's Office yet again and made my Mom cry by asking her when this was going to end, and after four of the worst weeks a nine year old kid could have, my Dad bought me a soccer ball.
Life wasn't so bad after all.
Life wasn't so bad after all.
Friday, June 08, 2007
The (kind of) Funnies
I’m working on a record (and that sentence alone can be taken with a grain of salt, I suppose, since I’ve been ‘working’ on this thing since December of 2004), and last night as I was dozing off at my desk around midnight, analyzing another mix of a song that I’ve listened to a thousand times, I made my exit out of Pro-Tools, and found my way to youtube.
The reoccurring theme here on the blog seems to be ‘Playboy’ Buddy Rose, and I guess that’s a result of my endless searches for any and all video footage of him on the site (the youtube site, that is). I stumbled upon a bizarre cartoon that features the voices of, not only the beloved Playboy, but of other 70’s wrestling stars Percy Pringle, Ed Wiskoski,and Les Thatcher.
Ned Noodlebody is a cartoon made by some guy named Mr. Kurt Nielsen, about a hapless pro wrestler. I’m still not entirely sure if this is ‘vintage’ or if he’s made this thing recently. Judging from the talent pool he assembled, and the style of cartoon (I’m pretty sure it’s *not* flash animation), all indications point to the former. I could be wrong, though. It’s happened before.
Enjoy(?).
The reoccurring theme here on the blog seems to be ‘Playboy’ Buddy Rose, and I guess that’s a result of my endless searches for any and all video footage of him on the site (the youtube site, that is). I stumbled upon a bizarre cartoon that features the voices of, not only the beloved Playboy, but of other 70’s wrestling stars Percy Pringle, Ed Wiskoski,and Les Thatcher.
Ned Noodlebody is a cartoon made by some guy named Mr. Kurt Nielsen, about a hapless pro wrestler. I’m still not entirely sure if this is ‘vintage’ or if he’s made this thing recently. Judging from the talent pool he assembled, and the style of cartoon (I’m pretty sure it’s *not* flash animation), all indications point to the former. I could be wrong, though. It’s happened before.
Enjoy(?).
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Ripped Off
I invented something, but really, it can be said that my friend Dan and I invented it together, and made it the most hilarious thing in the world.
We even conned a lot of our friends into doing it, or into being unwitting participants by stealing their cameras, doing our 'thing', and leaving them to discover our pure genius later when viewing their photos.
Some call it Shake Face, some call it Jiggly Face, but whatever the name, everyone acknowledges the inventors, and that together, we made it 'famous' within this town and beyond.
My favorite of me became my myspace default photo. Paloma calls it Duckface:
One of my favorites of Dan:
My friend Erin emailed me a link to a website the other day. Jowlers.com rips us off, and gives us absolutely no credit.
Total, and utter, bullshit. *We* invented it. *We* made it funny. someone else takes credit.
Years ago, the Knockoffs played at the Troubadour in L.A., and after the gig (we were still pretty wound up) Dan, Tom, and I invented something else.
It started as a simple request; "Hey Dan, suplex me onto the bed." With that, we cracked ourselves up at 3:00 a.m. capturing each other on film in mid-flight from bed to bed.
Ted Angel made a book about the Knockoffs, with people close to the band telling their favorite Knockoffs stories. I told the story of the night our brilliant concept came together at the Farmer's Daughter Hotel.
Here's proof that we were/are the funniest band on the planet. A couple of photos, one of Tom H. flying effortlessly, and another as he's about to administer the dreaded Flying Elbow Drop.
Years later, I stumbled upon this site, bedjump.com.
Again, total and utter bullshit. *We* invented it. *We* made it funny. someone else takes credit.
Originators rarely get their due, I suppose, but the originals are always, without question, seen as the best by those truly in the know.
We even conned a lot of our friends into doing it, or into being unwitting participants by stealing their cameras, doing our 'thing', and leaving them to discover our pure genius later when viewing their photos.
Some call it Shake Face, some call it Jiggly Face, but whatever the name, everyone acknowledges the inventors, and that together, we made it 'famous' within this town and beyond.
My favorite of me became my myspace default photo. Paloma calls it Duckface:
One of my favorites of Dan:
My friend Erin emailed me a link to a website the other day. Jowlers.com rips us off, and gives us absolutely no credit.
Total, and utter, bullshit. *We* invented it. *We* made it funny. someone else takes credit.
Years ago, the Knockoffs played at the Troubadour in L.A., and after the gig (we were still pretty wound up) Dan, Tom, and I invented something else.
It started as a simple request; "Hey Dan, suplex me onto the bed." With that, we cracked ourselves up at 3:00 a.m. capturing each other on film in mid-flight from bed to bed.
Ted Angel made a book about the Knockoffs, with people close to the band telling their favorite Knockoffs stories. I told the story of the night our brilliant concept came together at the Farmer's Daughter Hotel.
Here's proof that we were/are the funniest band on the planet. A couple of photos, one of Tom H. flying effortlessly, and another as he's about to administer the dreaded Flying Elbow Drop.
Years later, I stumbled upon this site, bedjump.com.
Again, total and utter bullshit. *We* invented it. *We* made it funny. someone else takes credit.
Originators rarely get their due, I suppose, but the originals are always, without question, seen as the best by those truly in the know.
Friday, April 27, 2007
You Oughta Be In Pictures
An extremely great story about the Almost-Iranian-Hostages, and their CIA led escape. Story from Wired (via metafilter).
A 'cute' slideshow.
On a, somewhat, related note, here's another story of a covert CIA mission involving a vessel owned by Howard Hughes. I probably saw it several times crossing the Benicia Bridge when it was 'mothballed' at Suisan Bay with the Naval Reserve Fleet.
A 'cute' slideshow.
On a, somewhat, related note, here's another story of a covert CIA mission involving a vessel owned by Howard Hughes. I probably saw it several times crossing the Benicia Bridge when it was 'mothballed' at Suisan Bay with the Naval Reserve Fleet.
Friday, April 13, 2007
The Flying Dutchman
I can't sleep, and I haven't posted in a few days, so here's a picture of Dutch Savage for you. His official site is a great read too, if you're so inclined.
Here, Dutch clenches his fist in the dreaded Coal Miners Glove, the spoils of being the first to capture the glove from a pole, and turning to use it on his opponent. This was called, simply enough, a Coal Miners Glove Match, invented by Dutch himself.
Here, Dutch clenches his fist in the dreaded Coal Miners Glove, the spoils of being the first to capture the glove from a pole, and turning to use it on his opponent. This was called, simply enough, a Coal Miners Glove Match, invented by Dutch himself.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Oscar The Grouch Drives A Van
Have you taken a look at Keith Lowell Jensen's new website, trulyawfulstuff.com?
As usual, from this great mind of I Can't Believe It's Not Comedy, he slays me over and over.
While the awful stuff referenced is more of the 'awfully tacky' variety, I came across something I find disturbingly awful today.
The company I work for has an automotive glass division. My co-worker had the pleasure of working on this van today.
The first picture here doesn't show quite the magnitude of this fellow's cigarette ash collection in the step next to the driver's seat, but if you look close, you can make out a soft drink lid being engulfed within.
The next picture shows (and again, I must stress that these pictures just don't do the scene justice) our clean living friend's collection of dispensed coffee in poker cups (the paper cups are adorned with a 'hand' of poker) an endless array of empty McDonald's bags, and various other forms of refuse sharing the cabin of the van.
Here, another view from the front to the back, with my jovial co-worker Sal (the lucky guy working on the van) waving enthusiastically (with latex gloves on, naturally).
And lastly, a view from Sal's vantage point from the last photo. the 'Rags In A Box' seem to keep the trash from impeding the use of the rear of the van which, although not evidenced by this photo, was covered in leaves and other earth derived debris.
If you look closely to the left, and past the glare of the window, you'll see a bulging green garbage bag.
My theory is that he knew someone would be working on his van, so he decided to tidy up a bit.
Anyone who knows me, even remotely, will have no trouble believing that when the van was first brought to my attention, I immediately began gagging and dry heaving, much to all of my co-workers' delight.
I wonder what the bucket's for.
Click the photos for a larger view.
As usual, from this great mind of I Can't Believe It's Not Comedy, he slays me over and over.
While the awful stuff referenced is more of the 'awfully tacky' variety, I came across something I find disturbingly awful today.
The company I work for has an automotive glass division. My co-worker had the pleasure of working on this van today.
The first picture here doesn't show quite the magnitude of this fellow's cigarette ash collection in the step next to the driver's seat, but if you look close, you can make out a soft drink lid being engulfed within.
The next picture shows (and again, I must stress that these pictures just don't do the scene justice) our clean living friend's collection of dispensed coffee in poker cups (the paper cups are adorned with a 'hand' of poker) an endless array of empty McDonald's bags, and various other forms of refuse sharing the cabin of the van.
Here, another view from the front to the back, with my jovial co-worker Sal (the lucky guy working on the van) waving enthusiastically (with latex gloves on, naturally).
And lastly, a view from Sal's vantage point from the last photo. the 'Rags In A Box' seem to keep the trash from impeding the use of the rear of the van which, although not evidenced by this photo, was covered in leaves and other earth derived debris.
If you look closely to the left, and past the glare of the window, you'll see a bulging green garbage bag.
My theory is that he knew someone would be working on his van, so he decided to tidy up a bit.
Anyone who knows me, even remotely, will have no trouble believing that when the van was first brought to my attention, I immediately began gagging and dry heaving, much to all of my co-workers' delight.
I wonder what the bucket's for.
Click the photos for a larger view.
Can You Live This Fantasy Life?
My fantasy baseball team is a lot of fun, although I'm getting killed in the pitching stats.
I was too late adding Gil Meche on Monday after Loaiza was finally put on the 15 day DL, and of course Meche turned in a monstrous day, pitching seven innings and giving up only one earned run.
Ted was really the one that turned me on to the guy on draft day, and I'd been chomping at the bit to pick him up after Loaiza didn't make his start against the River Cats last Thursday.
A.J. Burnett's 27.0 ERA, along with Justin Duchscherer and Derek Lowe each sporting a 13.5 average, made Joe Borowski's 9.0 average not seem so bad. Thankfully, my number one pitching pick. Daisuke Matsuzaka, pitched a beautiful seven innings, Armando Benitez picked up his first save, and the afforementioned Duchscherer picked up a win tonight. My pitching staff might actually be coming around.
One of the last picks I made was for my starting second baseman. A big time sleeper, I saw potential, but I have to admit, I picked him because we went to the same high school (though twelve or so years apart). Dustin Pedroia of the Red Sox is pulling through for me in a big way, leading all of my batters with .500 average.
Two more days of week one, and if my bats stay hot, and the earned runs come down, I could actually have a shot of sitting atop the league.
I was too late adding Gil Meche on Monday after Loaiza was finally put on the 15 day DL, and of course Meche turned in a monstrous day, pitching seven innings and giving up only one earned run.
Ted was really the one that turned me on to the guy on draft day, and I'd been chomping at the bit to pick him up after Loaiza didn't make his start against the River Cats last Thursday.
A.J. Burnett's 27.0 ERA, along with Justin Duchscherer and Derek Lowe each sporting a 13.5 average, made Joe Borowski's 9.0 average not seem so bad. Thankfully, my number one pitching pick. Daisuke Matsuzaka, pitched a beautiful seven innings, Armando Benitez picked up his first save, and the afforementioned Duchscherer picked up a win tonight. My pitching staff might actually be coming around.
One of the last picks I made was for my starting second baseman. A big time sleeper, I saw potential, but I have to admit, I picked him because we went to the same high school (though twelve or so years apart). Dustin Pedroia of the Red Sox is pulling through for me in a big way, leading all of my batters with .500 average.
Two more days of week one, and if my bats stay hot, and the earned runs come down, I could actually have a shot of sitting atop the league.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Wreslemania 23 (and #3, too)
Wrestlemania is two hours away. It's the 23rd installment, and I remember Wrestlemania III twenty years ago like it was, well, twenty years ago. Ha! All kidding aside, it seems like it was only just a few years ago.
Wrestlemania III is famous for a few things in wrestling circles, the most famous being the Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant match in which Hogan body slammed Andre, the first time in his career that the move had ever been initiated on the Giant.
The 450 pound King Kong Bundy attacked midget wrestler (or little person wrestler, if you will) Little Beaver.
Ricky Steamboat defeated Randy 'Macho Man' Savage in possibly the greatest match in Wrestlemania history. It's certainly my favorite, and it's one of the rare occurrences in wrestling fan geek-dom that most everyone agrees on it's (the match's) brilliance.
Part 1
Part 2
Alice Cooper made an appearance with Jake 'the Snake' Roberts.
I'll leave you with a bit of 'Mania trivia: Howard Finkel is the only person to ever appear on every single Wrestlemania Pay Per View, something not even Vince McMahon has done.
Wrestlemania III is famous for a few things in wrestling circles, the most famous being the Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant match in which Hogan body slammed Andre, the first time in his career that the move had ever been initiated on the Giant.
The 450 pound King Kong Bundy attacked midget wrestler (or little person wrestler, if you will) Little Beaver.
Ricky Steamboat defeated Randy 'Macho Man' Savage in possibly the greatest match in Wrestlemania history. It's certainly my favorite, and it's one of the rare occurrences in wrestling fan geek-dom that most everyone agrees on it's (the match's) brilliance.
Part 1
Part 2
Alice Cooper made an appearance with Jake 'the Snake' Roberts.
I'll leave you with a bit of 'Mania trivia: Howard Finkel is the only person to ever appear on every single Wrestlemania Pay Per View, something not even Vince McMahon has done.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Hitsville
So, Loaiza didn't end up pitching tonight, and the game was far from a pitcher's duel (11-10 in favor of the A's was the final). It was fun being at the ballpark though, and sometimes a hit-fest is fun to watch, and this being a game of no consequence, fun was what it was all about.
Mike Piazza hit a home run, and Nick Swisher hit two, but the most amazing thing was that Swish laid off the first two pitches (both strikes) that he saw tonight. He isn't exactly the paragon of plate discipline.
I took Dan Johnson as my last draft pick, as sort of a sleeper pick, hoping that perhaps he's corrected the trouble he was having seeing the ball during night games, but it's all for naught as he was placed on the Disabled List tonight. Ugh.
Mike Piazza hit a home run, and Nick Swisher hit two, but the most amazing thing was that Swish laid off the first two pitches (both strikes) that he saw tonight. He isn't exactly the paragon of plate discipline.
I took Dan Johnson as my last draft pick, as sort of a sleeper pick, hoping that perhaps he's corrected the trouble he was having seeing the ball during night games, but it's all for naught as he was placed on the Disabled List tonight. Ugh.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Play Ball!
The A’s take on the River Cats at Raley Field tonight.
Esteban Loaiza takes the mound for the A’s, and I couldn’t be happier. He’s one of my starting pitchers in my fantasy league, and since this is the first time I’ve ever done fantasy baseball, am hoping he’ll be the Ace of my staff.
I didn’t draft very well, and in fact, the three top pitchers I really wanted (Dan Haren, Chris Carpenter, and Bronson Arroyo) went sooner than I had predicted, not to mention the fact that Chien-Ming Wang was the second pitcher I drafted, and he went on the DL a couple of days ago.
Of all pitchers in the MLB though, Dan Haren is by far my favorite (with a healthy Rich Harden and the Reds’ Bronson Arroyo not far behind), so it’s a shame he’s not on my roster. His K/BB ratio is outstanding, and I’m really hoping the A’s hitters will give him a fighting chance at some wins this season.
I’ll be singing Take Me Out To The Ball Game at full volume, which I do at every game, but perhaps with just a bit more gusto tonight.
Esteban Loaiza takes the mound for the A’s, and I couldn’t be happier. He’s one of my starting pitchers in my fantasy league, and since this is the first time I’ve ever done fantasy baseball, am hoping he’ll be the Ace of my staff.
I didn’t draft very well, and in fact, the three top pitchers I really wanted (Dan Haren, Chris Carpenter, and Bronson Arroyo) went sooner than I had predicted, not to mention the fact that Chien-Ming Wang was the second pitcher I drafted, and he went on the DL a couple of days ago.
Of all pitchers in the MLB though, Dan Haren is by far my favorite (with a healthy Rich Harden and the Reds’ Bronson Arroyo not far behind), so it’s a shame he’s not on my roster. His K/BB ratio is outstanding, and I’m really hoping the A’s hitters will give him a fighting chance at some wins this season.
I’ll be singing Take Me Out To The Ball Game at full volume, which I do at every game, but perhaps with just a bit more gusto tonight.
In Threes
Oh, yeah. Three new blogs linked.
Mommy Mommy. One of the first people I met when I moved to California, way back in '84.
Floating Foam. My friend Dave is smart, funny, witty, sweet, etc.
Rockass. KLJ. Comedian. Hilarious.
Mommy Mommy. One of the first people I met when I moved to California, way back in '84.
Floating Foam. My friend Dave is smart, funny, witty, sweet, etc.
Rockass. KLJ. Comedian. Hilarious.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Polly T. Kitty
My cat, Polly, is just about my favorite thing in the whole world.
She was a few weeks old when she climbed into the engine compartment of my car (luckily, I saw her crawling into it), I popped the hood, threw her in a box, and took her to the vet.
I was living alone for the first time in my life and, with being a feral cat, she wasn't too interested in hanging out with me. Little by little she started coming around, and we've been best buds for the last 11 years.
I've had more than one girlfriend (there have been several in that time span) complain that I love my cat more than I love them, and I have to admit that I've been hard pressed to argue.
The last year has been a hard one. I took her to the vet and found she needed to have several teeth removed. Before she went in, I moved into a small, one bedroom apartment.
I took her in for the dental work, and I spent the next couple of weeks chasing her through the apartment when it was time for her medicine.
We moved into a two story, three bedroom house in November, and she seemed to be the happiest she's ever been.
A few weeks ago I came home and one of her eyes was giving her trouble. I took her to the vet, found it was irritated, and a simple eye cream was prescribed. Unfortunately, it was discovered that she needed to have more teeth removed.
She hates wet food, but with so few teeth remaining, was going to have to give it another shot. I went out and bought a wide variety of wet cat food. She didn't eat much the next few weeks, but I was holding out, figuring that she'd get hungry enough sooner or later and have to eat.
She never did though, and I guess I can look back and thank my lucky stars that she's so finicky. I'm pretty sure that just about every pack and can of wet food I put in front of her for two weeks was of the tainted-rat-poison variety.
She had another barrage of tests, and so far (fingers crossed) everything seems to be relatively fine.
So, she's back to kibble, and just gumming away at it.
Ah, stupid cat. I don't know what I'd do without her.
She was a few weeks old when she climbed into the engine compartment of my car (luckily, I saw her crawling into it), I popped the hood, threw her in a box, and took her to the vet.
I was living alone for the first time in my life and, with being a feral cat, she wasn't too interested in hanging out with me. Little by little she started coming around, and we've been best buds for the last 11 years.
I've had more than one girlfriend (there have been several in that time span) complain that I love my cat more than I love them, and I have to admit that I've been hard pressed to argue.
The last year has been a hard one. I took her to the vet and found she needed to have several teeth removed. Before she went in, I moved into a small, one bedroom apartment.
I took her in for the dental work, and I spent the next couple of weeks chasing her through the apartment when it was time for her medicine.
We moved into a two story, three bedroom house in November, and she seemed to be the happiest she's ever been.
A few weeks ago I came home and one of her eyes was giving her trouble. I took her to the vet, found it was irritated, and a simple eye cream was prescribed. Unfortunately, it was discovered that she needed to have more teeth removed.
She hates wet food, but with so few teeth remaining, was going to have to give it another shot. I went out and bought a wide variety of wet cat food. She didn't eat much the next few weeks, but I was holding out, figuring that she'd get hungry enough sooner or later and have to eat.
She never did though, and I guess I can look back and thank my lucky stars that she's so finicky. I'm pretty sure that just about every pack and can of wet food I put in front of her for two weeks was of the tainted-rat-poison variety.
She had another barrage of tests, and so far (fingers crossed) everything seems to be relatively fine.
So, she's back to kibble, and just gumming away at it.
Ah, stupid cat. I don't know what I'd do without her.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Hello again (with links to blogs).
After my last blog, which was epic, to say the least, I've had a hard time trying to even so much as post a picture. I don't want my blog to go unattended however, so whether or not I can live up to that last blog, here goes nothing...
Did you know that the women of new wave/punk rock love me?
Want proof?
Here's a picture of me and the legendary Alice Bag.
Josie Cotton has a myspace page.
Nikki Corvette has a myspace page too.
I added them as 'friends' and guess what? They wrote to me! Can you believe that? Two singers I love, whose records I've long worn out, wrote to me to say hello.
Not only that, they're still making great new music.
Jaz Brown blogs here. He has his own website too.
Skid blogs from myspace.
Here's my buddy GB spouting off.
Watt. Truly, one of my heroes, and I don't have many. Watt's myspace.
Dianna is pretty damn funny.
Did you know that the women of new wave/punk rock love me?
Want proof?
Here's a picture of me and the legendary Alice Bag.
Josie Cotton has a myspace page.
Nikki Corvette has a myspace page too.
I added them as 'friends' and guess what? They wrote to me! Can you believe that? Two singers I love, whose records I've long worn out, wrote to me to say hello.
Not only that, they're still making great new music.
Jaz Brown blogs here. He has his own website too.
Skid blogs from myspace.
Here's my buddy GB spouting off.
Watt. Truly, one of my heroes, and I don't have many. Watt's myspace.
Dianna is pretty damn funny.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Rock, Wrestling, and Great White Sharks
Since as early as I can remember (I'm talking, like, five years old) there are only two things that I've ever wanted to do. Play Rock-n-Roll, and be a Pro Wrestler.
My earliest memory of emulating a bona-fide 'star' was taking my little acoustic guitar, slipping on my Dad's leather boots, putting the Goodbye Yellow Brick Road record on the turntable, dropping the needle on Bennie And The Jets, and singing it at full volume while prancing around the front room putting on a 'show' for whoever happened to be in the house at the time.
Sometime in the next year or so, I discovered my brother's Kiss Alive record, and I alternated between being Ace Frehley* and Gene Simmons (my friend Terry was either Paul Stanley or Peter Criss at any given time) in my front room 'shows'. I was probably six when I bought my first record with my own money; Destroyer by Kiss.
*Up until I did a James Brown tribute with my band Red Star Memorial in 2001 or so, the only two things I had ever been for Halloween were a makeup and dress wearing girl, or Ace Frehley.
Sometimes, though, I would tire of my Kiss charade and want to get *really* crazy. Even though it was my Mom's single, I would wait until everyone was out of the house, in fear of getting in trouble, and put on Alice Cooper's Go To Hell.
I played the tennis racket until I finally got a bass guitar at 15, and it was the most natural thing in the world.
I was watching pro wrestling via the Don Owens Portland Wrestling show since as early as I can remember. I can remember watching Jimmy Snuka, Jesse Ventura, and Stan Stasiak on t.v., and they were all out of the promotion by the mid-seventies, so I can only surmise that I've been watching wrestling since I popped from the womb.
The greatest feud in Portland Wrestling was the 'Playboy' Buddy Rose vs. 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper war. I loved Roddy, and a few years later when he showed up as a 'bad guy' for the nationally syndicated WWF, I cheered for him anyway. In fact, I remember in 1984 (or '85?) going to Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento and being the only kid in the entire place cheering for Piper as he battled Andre the Giant.
My affection with the rule breakers stemmed earlier though. After Piper lost a loser-leaves-town match to Rose in Portland (that sent Piper packing to the Carolinas territory a few years before his WWF stint), I oddly found myself cheering for the Playboy. My friend Scott was mad at me about it, and since we were more like brothers anyway, would fight about it come Saturday night as I was rooting for the bad guy, and he was rooting for the good guy.
My friend Steve made a comment about the ten year anniversary of Never Mind The Bollocks coming up, and even though I had been listening to punk rock for a few years (the first two punk records I had gotten into were My Beach by the Surf Punks, and Damaged by Black Flag in the Summer of '82), it was getting Bollocks that made me want to *play* punk rock.
I had never played guitar before, but I borrowed my sister's boyfriend's Dean Flying V anyway, figured out how to play power chords, and learned Bollocks front to back. Of course, that came in handy when the Knockoffs did a Sex Pistols tribute a few years ago.
I joined my first band, lovingly called Gism Head, just after I turned 17 and never looked back. I knew for certain I just wanted to play Rock-n-Roll.
I hadn't watched wrestling since about 1990, but I found myself single and living alone in '96 when, flipping through channels, saw Hulk Hogan on the television. Now Hulk had always been the perennial good guy (of course, his main adversary at the height of 'Hulkamania' was Roddy Piper, so I always booed him), but when I stopped and watched him this night, he was now the bad guy. I started watching every Monday just to see what was going on.
Naturally, I never told anyone that I was 25 and watching wrestling again. Until, that is, I got an l.p. by a Sacramento band called the Knockoffs, and in the area after the last song's grooves end, were etched the words 'Ban The Heartpunch'.
The Heartpunch was Stan 'The Man' Stasiak's brutal and life threatening move; a punch to the heart. Fans screamed for it's ban every time Stan laid into another unsuspecting fan favorite.
I saw Tom, the singer of the Knockoffs, in, of all places, the Stag Bar in Woodland at a Groovie Ghoulies show. Having never talked to him before, I approached cautiously and said "are you a Stan Stasiak fan?", and with that, I talked wrestling with someone for the first time in well over ten years.
Fast forward about a year, and by this time I've joined his band, met Danny, and found that I have two wrestling fans to talk with.
Danny got involved with a promotion out of San Francisco called Incredibly Strange Wrestling, and after making his mark, brought Tom and I along for a match at the famed Filmore in front of 1,000 screaming, tortilla throwing lunatics.
We approached a Sacramento based promotion called Supreme Pro Wrestling about being apart of the show, and based on our big mouths, they agreed to train us on how to actually be Pro Wrestlers.
I never finished training, but found my niche on the mic, and became one half of the voice of the promotion for several years.
So, I never got to an Elton/Kiss/Alice level of rock stardom, but after I discovered punk rock, doubt that was ever my intent anyway. I'd be lying if I didn't say that making a living would have been pretty great though, but I have done some very cool things over the years.
I've put out several very good and/or great records, toured the U.S., Europe, and Japan, and was in two (if not three or four) of the greatest bands to ever come out of Sacramento.
I never got to the Piper/Hogan/Ventura level of 'the Business', but I was involved in a promotion that was the punk rock equivalent of a wrestling promotion, and got to learn things the right way from one of the best in the industry. I'd be lying if I didn't say that it still haunts me that I never made it through training and didn't have just that one singles match.
But hey, I've got at least two, and maybe even three, good albums left in me, and if I decide that my 36 year old body can take a beating, have been told many times that I'd be welcomed back into training again.
All of this, though, is leading to what was suppose to be the focus of this blog. Sometimes my mind starts wandering; you'll have to forgive me.
There are only two things I've ever wanted to *be*, but there are only two things that I really want to *do* at this point in my life.
The first is to orbit the Earth's atmosphere. I'm not sure how I plan to pull that off, other than to live long enough that recreational space travel is a reality, but, you know, we were supposed to living like the Jetsons by now, so the thought of interplanetary space travel is probably just as far fetched.
The second thing is to touch the nose of a Great White shark.
The only thing stopping me from that is, well, me I suppose. The hurdles involved are many though; I've never been in a boat in the ocean, I get motion sickness by just turning a corner in a car, and, I'm pretty sure, sharks scare the crap out of me.
I dream about luring a shark up to the side of the boat with chum, grabbing his nose, and watching him freeze in paralysis as he falls back in the water. I wanted to find video of that, because it is an amazing site, but alas, came up empty. I've compiled a list of Great White related things for your viewing pleasure though, so I hope you enjoy.
The Farallon Islands are probably the closest and best bet for Great White viewing here in Northern California, being just 27 miles past the Golden Gate. Northern Elephant Seals come here to mate, and the sharks follow closely to feed.
In looking up info on the islands, I saw that the last known sighting of Humphrey the Humpback Whale was here in 1991. When he swam up the Sacramento River in '85, the furthest point he reached was a little town I used to drive to at dusk when I lived in Dixon in the Summer of 2003 called Rio Vista. Small world, huh?
Here's a shark feeding frenzy/orgy that is both awe inspiring, and perhaps the first Great White erection caught on film (they've never been seen mating).
California Great Whites are the biggest of all Great Whites, feeding on the bigger elephant seal.
South American Great Whites are smaller, but have an awesome ariel attack, feeding off surface dwelling seals. The following two clips, despite having a moronic title, are simply breathtaking.
Air Jaws 1
Air Jaws 2
If you enjoyed any part of this post, please leave a comment so I know it wasn't all in vain. Heck, leave a comment if you think this whole link-fest is the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen.
My earliest memory of emulating a bona-fide 'star' was taking my little acoustic guitar, slipping on my Dad's leather boots, putting the Goodbye Yellow Brick Road record on the turntable, dropping the needle on Bennie And The Jets, and singing it at full volume while prancing around the front room putting on a 'show' for whoever happened to be in the house at the time.
Sometime in the next year or so, I discovered my brother's Kiss Alive record, and I alternated between being Ace Frehley* and Gene Simmons (my friend Terry was either Paul Stanley or Peter Criss at any given time) in my front room 'shows'. I was probably six when I bought my first record with my own money; Destroyer by Kiss.
*Up until I did a James Brown tribute with my band Red Star Memorial in 2001 or so, the only two things I had ever been for Halloween were a makeup and dress wearing girl, or Ace Frehley.
Sometimes, though, I would tire of my Kiss charade and want to get *really* crazy. Even though it was my Mom's single, I would wait until everyone was out of the house, in fear of getting in trouble, and put on Alice Cooper's Go To Hell.
I played the tennis racket until I finally got a bass guitar at 15, and it was the most natural thing in the world.
I was watching pro wrestling via the Don Owens Portland Wrestling show since as early as I can remember. I can remember watching Jimmy Snuka, Jesse Ventura, and Stan Stasiak on t.v., and they were all out of the promotion by the mid-seventies, so I can only surmise that I've been watching wrestling since I popped from the womb.
The greatest feud in Portland Wrestling was the 'Playboy' Buddy Rose vs. 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper war. I loved Roddy, and a few years later when he showed up as a 'bad guy' for the nationally syndicated WWF, I cheered for him anyway. In fact, I remember in 1984 (or '85?) going to Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento and being the only kid in the entire place cheering for Piper as he battled Andre the Giant.
My affection with the rule breakers stemmed earlier though. After Piper lost a loser-leaves-town match to Rose in Portland (that sent Piper packing to the Carolinas territory a few years before his WWF stint), I oddly found myself cheering for the Playboy. My friend Scott was mad at me about it, and since we were more like brothers anyway, would fight about it come Saturday night as I was rooting for the bad guy, and he was rooting for the good guy.
My friend Steve made a comment about the ten year anniversary of Never Mind The Bollocks coming up, and even though I had been listening to punk rock for a few years (the first two punk records I had gotten into were My Beach by the Surf Punks, and Damaged by Black Flag in the Summer of '82), it was getting Bollocks that made me want to *play* punk rock.
I had never played guitar before, but I borrowed my sister's boyfriend's Dean Flying V anyway, figured out how to play power chords, and learned Bollocks front to back. Of course, that came in handy when the Knockoffs did a Sex Pistols tribute a few years ago.
I joined my first band, lovingly called Gism Head, just after I turned 17 and never looked back. I knew for certain I just wanted to play Rock-n-Roll.
I hadn't watched wrestling since about 1990, but I found myself single and living alone in '96 when, flipping through channels, saw Hulk Hogan on the television. Now Hulk had always been the perennial good guy (of course, his main adversary at the height of 'Hulkamania' was Roddy Piper, so I always booed him), but when I stopped and watched him this night, he was now the bad guy. I started watching every Monday just to see what was going on.
Naturally, I never told anyone that I was 25 and watching wrestling again. Until, that is, I got an l.p. by a Sacramento band called the Knockoffs, and in the area after the last song's grooves end, were etched the words 'Ban The Heartpunch'.
The Heartpunch was Stan 'The Man' Stasiak's brutal and life threatening move; a punch to the heart. Fans screamed for it's ban every time Stan laid into another unsuspecting fan favorite.
I saw Tom, the singer of the Knockoffs, in, of all places, the Stag Bar in Woodland at a Groovie Ghoulies show. Having never talked to him before, I approached cautiously and said "are you a Stan Stasiak fan?", and with that, I talked wrestling with someone for the first time in well over ten years.
Fast forward about a year, and by this time I've joined his band, met Danny, and found that I have two wrestling fans to talk with.
Danny got involved with a promotion out of San Francisco called Incredibly Strange Wrestling, and after making his mark, brought Tom and I along for a match at the famed Filmore in front of 1,000 screaming, tortilla throwing lunatics.
We approached a Sacramento based promotion called Supreme Pro Wrestling about being apart of the show, and based on our big mouths, they agreed to train us on how to actually be Pro Wrestlers.
I never finished training, but found my niche on the mic, and became one half of the voice of the promotion for several years.
So, I never got to an Elton/Kiss/Alice level of rock stardom, but after I discovered punk rock, doubt that was ever my intent anyway. I'd be lying if I didn't say that making a living would have been pretty great though, but I have done some very cool things over the years.
I've put out several very good and/or great records, toured the U.S., Europe, and Japan, and was in two (if not three or four) of the greatest bands to ever come out of Sacramento.
I never got to the Piper/Hogan/Ventura level of 'the Business', but I was involved in a promotion that was the punk rock equivalent of a wrestling promotion, and got to learn things the right way from one of the best in the industry. I'd be lying if I didn't say that it still haunts me that I never made it through training and didn't have just that one singles match.
But hey, I've got at least two, and maybe even three, good albums left in me, and if I decide that my 36 year old body can take a beating, have been told many times that I'd be welcomed back into training again.
All of this, though, is leading to what was suppose to be the focus of this blog. Sometimes my mind starts wandering; you'll have to forgive me.
There are only two things I've ever wanted to *be*, but there are only two things that I really want to *do* at this point in my life.
The first is to orbit the Earth's atmosphere. I'm not sure how I plan to pull that off, other than to live long enough that recreational space travel is a reality, but, you know, we were supposed to living like the Jetsons by now, so the thought of interplanetary space travel is probably just as far fetched.
The second thing is to touch the nose of a Great White shark.
The only thing stopping me from that is, well, me I suppose. The hurdles involved are many though; I've never been in a boat in the ocean, I get motion sickness by just turning a corner in a car, and, I'm pretty sure, sharks scare the crap out of me.
I dream about luring a shark up to the side of the boat with chum, grabbing his nose, and watching him freeze in paralysis as he falls back in the water. I wanted to find video of that, because it is an amazing site, but alas, came up empty. I've compiled a list of Great White related things for your viewing pleasure though, so I hope you enjoy.
The Farallon Islands are probably the closest and best bet for Great White viewing here in Northern California, being just 27 miles past the Golden Gate. Northern Elephant Seals come here to mate, and the sharks follow closely to feed.
In looking up info on the islands, I saw that the last known sighting of Humphrey the Humpback Whale was here in 1991. When he swam up the Sacramento River in '85, the furthest point he reached was a little town I used to drive to at dusk when I lived in Dixon in the Summer of 2003 called Rio Vista. Small world, huh?
Here's a shark feeding frenzy/orgy that is both awe inspiring, and perhaps the first Great White erection caught on film (they've never been seen mating).
California Great Whites are the biggest of all Great Whites, feeding on the bigger elephant seal.
South American Great Whites are smaller, but have an awesome ariel attack, feeding off surface dwelling seals. The following two clips, despite having a moronic title, are simply breathtaking.
Air Jaws 1
Air Jaws 2
If you enjoyed any part of this post, please leave a comment so I know it wasn't all in vain. Heck, leave a comment if you think this whole link-fest is the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
More Vanity
My presence on youtube.
The Mr. T Experience live at Slim’s in San Francisco in the Summer of 2005. In three parts.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
With 7 Seconds in Europe.
Young Til I Die from Vienna.
Not Just Boy’s Fun/This Is The Angry from Vienna.
Here’s the DVD from that tour. Someone should buy it for me since I’m too broke these days.
Playing keyboards for the Helper Monkeys, acoustic, in Sacramento on the Groovie Ghoulies song School’s Out.
Kevin shot this video of Tom and Dan playing with a ductape ball at 5:00 in the morning outside the old True Love Coffeehouse. If you listen closely, you can hear a faint giggle from me in the background.
Matt shot this video of me playing solo at Cesar Chavez park in Sacramento in 2006.
Not sure if this is a classic, but it oughta be.
The Mr. T Experience live at Slim’s in San Francisco in the Summer of 2005. In three parts.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
With 7 Seconds in Europe.
Young Til I Die from Vienna.
Not Just Boy’s Fun/This Is The Angry from Vienna.
Here’s the DVD from that tour. Someone should buy it for me since I’m too broke these days.
Playing keyboards for the Helper Monkeys, acoustic, in Sacramento on the Groovie Ghoulies song School’s Out.
Kevin shot this video of Tom and Dan playing with a ductape ball at 5:00 in the morning outside the old True Love Coffeehouse. If you listen closely, you can hear a faint giggle from me in the background.
Matt shot this video of me playing solo at Cesar Chavez park in Sacramento in 2006.
Not sure if this is a classic, but it oughta be.
Playboy
One of my all time favorite wrestlers, Playboy Buddy Rose is about 10 years past his prime when destroying this rinky-dink ring.
Monday, January 08, 2007
HOF
In 2006, the Sacramento Music Awards inducted the Knockoffs into the Hall of Fame. In lieu of an acceptance speech, they asked inductees to make a short video acceptance.
I played Director for the day, Editor for the night, and this is what we came up with.
My apologies to Benny Hill.
I played Director for the day, Editor for the night, and this is what we came up with.
My apologies to Benny Hill.
Mojo
Me and Chuck Berry’s amp. I got up close and personal during sound-check when the Haints opened up for Chuck in the Summer of 2006.
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