After listening to Bowie's new album "Blackstar" on Friday night, and listening to it again on Saturday. I decided to re-explore the entire work of The Thin White Duke once again, this time going backwards. On Saturday afternoon, I put on my headphones and worked out to 2013's "The Next Day" and 2004's "Reality." Yesterday, I working out again, plus showered and shaved all to the sounds of the live album "A Reality Tour." Then right before I went to bed, I received a New Times alert that David Bowie was dead from cancer at 69 years old. I took it hard, and very personally...
Still suffering from the shock of losing one of my Heroes, I looked back at a private blog I wrote in 2010, where I I boldly expressed my love and admiration for all things David Bowie...a sentiment I still feel to this day. I had no idea back then that in less than six short years, Bowie would be gone. He ain't gone from me though; it's just not possible.
For those interested, here is the blog I wrote July 31st 2010, which I just as easily could have written today:
saturday, july 31, 2010
Loving The Alien
It's been six years since Bowie's last concert tour...the final leg of which was abruptly cut short when he suffered a minor heart attack. Having since recovered, Bowie has only made scattered public appearances since...performing a song or two at this tribute, or that awards show, or this charity gala, that festival, etc...yet no full concerts of any sort. Bowie's taken breaks before...yet never like this. You see, in addition from staying away from concert performances...Bowie has also stayed clear of any new music. It's been close to seven years since he's released a new record...his longest recording sabbatical ever. At 63 years old, insanely rich, and strangely not the rail-slim gent he had been for all of his life...one wonders if he is...perhaps..retired? Bowie has not had a hit record for over 20 years...truth be told, most people don't really care what he does...unless you're a crazy fan like me.
Similar to the way I feel about other artists I truly admire, when I think about David Bowie...I often associate his story with mine...not literally, of course, yet in the sense that it's hard to discuss the music of David Bowie without discussing my life as well..at least in terms of my personal history and experience connected with Bowie. So to...
When I was a kid, David Bowie creeped me out. Here was this skeleton-like British weirdo, with one eye a different color than the other, who wore make-up and looked like a mannequin. I first became aware of Bowie in the late 1970's...possibly when I was ten, catching Bowie's bizarre performance on Saturday Night Live of "The Man Who Sold The World." I also remember seeing a commercial or a promo spot on television for Bowie's song "DJ" from the 1979 album The Lodger. Bowie scared me more than anything else, and I decided for myself that he was not for me. Like many things in my life, movies brought me closer to discovering what David Bowie was about...in theaters, and on cable-tv, I was exposed to his acting roles in 1976's THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH, and 1983's THE HUNGER and MERRY CHRISTMAS, MR. LAWRENCE...Listened to his thrilling soundtrack theme song when I saw 1982's CAT PEOPLE. I remember how frustrated I felt hearing Gene Wilder's mispronunciation of Bowie's name in the movie THE WOMAN IN RED ("David Boowee")...
When when I was 13, rock and roll radio emerged as a key component in my general education. Slowly but surely, I was exposed to the classics...Beatles, Rolling Stones,etc...with Bowie thrown in as well. I'd hear the hits..."Fame", "Young Americans", "Changes", "Space Oddity", etc...All sounded fine, yet I was not ready. In 1983, Bowie had a big album and worldwide tour for the very popular Let's Dance album..it was, a HUGE deal at the time...huge stadiums, lots of press coverage, three sold out nights at Madison Square Garden...it was THE concert tour of the year. Of course, foolish me didn't care very much...Bowie was for other people...not me...at least so I thought.
In 1984, I believe I bought my first Bowie record..a single..."Blue Jean." I heard it on the radio, and saw the video on MTV. I liked the sound of the drums...it had a great POP to it. I also began to love a song that came out ten years earlier..."Rebel Rebel." Another radio favorite was 1973's hard charging "Panic In Detroit." For me, this was good rock & roll...something I could relate to...none of that other weird Bowie crap that scared me as a child. Soon enough, I began to buy a few Bowie records..not many...1972's The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars..1973's Aladdin Sane, and 1974's Diamond Dogs...That's it, that was all I needed at the time...That was all I thought I needed from David Bowie back then...just those three records.
At the ripe age of 18 I finally got to face the man himself...the creature that once disturbed me as a young boy...Fortunately, I was not alone...protecting me were thousands and thousands of fans. I listened to the press conference on the radio...there was, once again, excitement in the air...David Bowie was coming back to the New York area to play two enormous concerts...I HAD to go...there was no question otherwise...
August 2, 1987...East Rutherford, New Jersey...Giants Stadium. My concert pal Scott and I were there...catching opening acts Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam, followed by Squeeze. The stage was huge. I never bothered to buy Bowie's new album, Never Let Me Down as nothing on the radio nor MTV sounded good to me. Nonetheless, Bowie decided to incorporate a song off of the album as the theme of his latest tour...Glass Spider. Thus it was no surprise that atop the stage was a giant glass spider. After Squeeze finished their set, the wait was on for Bowie to hit the stage. I was very excited...So I waited....and waited....and waited...and waited. An hour went by...nope, no sign of Bowie...then another hour went by (or at least it felt like another hour)...no sign of Bowie. What was going on? Where was he?
FINALLY...at some point...the lights went down. 60,000 plus screaming and cheering...then the show began. This was no mere rock and roll concert...it was a spectacle, a grand artistic showpiece, grand theater at its finest...that also happened to feature great music. Yet I wasn't ready...I was not prepared for this Bowie. Oddly enough, this was the kind of show I would have LOVED now...yet at 18, I was more...dazed and confused...I did not know half of the songs...this was no greatest hits show...no Ziggy Stardust songs...no "Space Oddity"...no "Changes"..."Panic In Detroit"...not even "Ashes To Ashes." Yes, there were some hits played, yet there was plenty of material performed from David Bowie albums I did not own, nor ever heard of...Looking at the setlist today, I laugh at the songs I did not know back then..."Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)", "Sons Of The Silent Age", and two of my favorites..."Big Brother" and "All The Madmen." I kick myself now for not being able to fully appreciate these songs back then. Ugh...youth is wasted on the young indeed...That said, it was still a good show...70's megastar Peter Frampton played guitar and sang as part of Bowie's band...I remember guitarist Carlos Alomar had spiked hair...I remembered I noticed how odd it was that Bowie never once spoke to, nor thanked, nor even acknowledged the crowd. Highlight of the concert was the song "Time" from the Aladdin Sane album...David Bowie sang the song above the stage, spouting wings...very much the forlorn angel...very theatrical...two songs later, the show was over. I had seen my very first David Bowie concert, yet somehow I felt disappointed. The grass was greener back in time, I thought...WHY had I not seen him 4 years earlier at Madison Square Garden? I loathed Giants Stadium...and felt too far away from the action. Plus I thought...too many weirdo songs, not enough of the good stuff. In essence, I was an idiot...I just had no clue that what I was witnessing was a true event...and the last of its kind. Bowie would never do a gigantic spectacle tour like this again...ever. What I failed to understand was...Bowie was not about meeting expectations...he was always defying them.
Often labeled a "chameleon", Bowie was beyond such banal labels...I read an interview once where he said something to the effect of "a chameleon changes its appearance in order to adapt to its environment...I tend to do the opposite of that."...and how.
Thank goodness I took the opportunity to see the Glass Spider show again a month later at my preferred venue...New York's Madison Square Garden. I had a much better time than the Giants Stadium show, yet Bowie and the show itself still confounded me. I went to the show with my drum teacher Peter...who lit up when he heard the opening song ("Up The Hill Backwards")...a song I still did not know yet. Peter said out loud something like.."I know this song! It's from Scary Monsters." Years later, once I bought the Scary Monsters album..."Up The Hill Backwards" became one of my favorite Bowie songs ever.
In 1990, I caught two shows of Bowie's Sound and Vision greatest hits tour. Unfortunately for me, my ears had gone south...so the volume at both concerts were too much for me to handle, and enjoy. With no new music to support, Bowie performed a setlist that was put together "by request"...literally. There was a phone number to call where you could request songs for Bowie to play on the tour...I asked for "Panic In Detroit" and one other...My July 16th show at Nassau Coliseum was just okay...though I was pleased that he played "Space Oddity", I was still too young an naive to appreciate the magnitude of song like 1976's "Station To Station." The show I caught on July 29th at Giants Stadium was not too good...as a half-filled stadium watched Bowie slog through the hits. I was very delighted on one front though...not only did he play the song "Changes"...yet he also added my favorite..."Panic In Detroit"...in a version not necessarily resembling the record I loved.
I lost touch with Bowie for a long time after that...he decided to stop being David Bowie for a few years..and formed a lackluster band called Tin Machine...which released two dreadful, low-selling albums. By the time Bowie returned to making Bowie records in 1993...I had moved on. The Bowie of the 90's was something that didn't really register with me...his songs were no longer on the radio, at least not any NEW songs...When Bowie hooked up with Nine Each Nails' Trent Reznor in 1995 for the album Earthling, toured behind it...I couldn't get myself to go. In January 1997, a 50th birthday party concert was held for Bowie at Madison Square Garden...an all-star event with special guests. I wanted to go...yet didn't have enough incentive to get myself there...which I later painfully regretted. After reading about the concert in the paper, I was kicking myself. For years and years it brought me great pain to think about the great show I missed...Determined to right the wrong...I seized an opportunity to catch Bowie eight months later...in a very bizarre set-up...as usual...
October 15, 1997...New York's Radio City Music Hall. The event was the GQ Man Of The Year Awards...a 2 hour awards show taped for later broadcast, that would also feature a full concert by David Bowie, AFTER the show...So, I sat through a black-tie event...with presenters like Charlize Theron and Jon Stewart gave out awards for this and that. I think David Duchovny won the top award. Than once the show was over...Iman, Bowie's wife, came out to introduce her husband...and out came Bowie with a very LOUD, yet spirited 16-song set...featuring lots of my favorites including "Panic In Detroit", "The Jean Jeanie" and "The Man Who Sold The World"...I was suffering, sound-wise...particularly through an endless new song from the Earthling record called "I'm Afraid Of Americans." Yet I jumped for joy when he ended the show with a song I'd never seen him perform...one of my all-time favorites ever..."Moonage Daydream." It was a really good concert, and I was pleased to have seen David Bowie in such a small venue (5.000 seats, as opposed to 20 or 65,000)...It would be the last time I would see David Bowie for over 6 years...
When I moved to California in 1998, Bowie was still on my mind. I had heard songs from his 1973 album of covers, Pin-Ups, at a Tower Records on the Upper East Side of Manhattan...and fell in love all over again. I don't recall when I bought the album...whether it was New York, or L.A...yet when I first moved to L.A ...I played that Pin-Ups album over and over again...I adored Bowie's versions of The Who's "I Can't Explain", Them's "Here Comes The Night", and especially his grand version of Pink Floyd's "See Emily Play." For the next few years...I slowly, but surely began to build up my Bowie CD library...even finding rare, out-of-print items like his two 70's live albums....1974's David Live and 1978's Stage...as well as newer releases like 2000's Bowie at the Beeb, 2002's Heathen, and 2003's Reality...
January 31, 2004 - The Shrine Auditorium - Los Angeles - Bowie was back! It had been over 6 years since I had last seen him. Baby ISH was with me to witness a fantastic David Bowie concert. Drastically different from the concerts I saw in 1987....Bowie was quite friendly and chatty between songs. He seemed happier, and eager to please. The 27-song set was a healthy mixture of new material from his recent Reality record, plus a good amount of oldies...including four songs from his legendary Ziggy Stardust record. We had good seats, and sang along to the songs. Sure the concert dragged at time (during slower, moody pieces like "The Motel")...yet it was still a very exciting show. A highlight of the concert was Bowie's take on a song he recorded with Queen back in 1981..."Under Pressure." The bassist Gail Ann Dorsey took on the vocals originally sung by the late great Freddie Mercury...and did an incredible job. I recall the show in general being very visual...an important component for Bowie and his music since the very beginning. It was just so great to see him again...
April 22, 2004 -The Greek Theatre - Los Angeles, CA - I could not resist going to another Bowie concert. Opening act Polyphonic Spree were excellent...and even threw in the chorus to one of my favorite David Bowie songs ever...the obscure yet brilliant "Memory of a Free Festival." When the lights went down for Bowie...the introductory animated film that started the show malfunctioned...so Bowie just walked out and began the opening number...1974's classic "Rebel Rebel." The feel of this show was looser than the Shrine show a few months earlier...Bowie mixed the set up a bit...playing rare gems like 1970's "The Supermen"...and 1971's "Quicksand." It was fun to see Bowie in one of my favorite concert venues...the glorious outdoor Greek Theater. Little did I know that it would be my last David Bowie concert for many years to come...
In October of 1994, I bought my first computer. The woman who helped me set up my Gateway PC desktop told me about this new thing called iTunes, and set it up for me. At the time, the idea of listening to music on a computer did not appeal to me. Yet the first thought I had once I was alone one day with my new PC was..."It might be fun to listen to some David Bowie songs on the computer while I work on it." Sure enough...the first music I ever uploaded to iTunes was from David Bowie. I now have over 18,000 songs on my Mac's iTunes...698 of these songs are all Bowie.
It's hard for me to believe that I am even a bigger Bowie fan now than I was when I was a teenager...Usually over time, my interest in an artist reaches its capacity, then wanes a bit...not with David Bowie. I feel as if every year I become more and more interested in his life and music. I'm finding more and more songs and albums to fall in love with. Right now, I am in the middle of reading a Bowie biography, and am currently listening to the entire Bowie music catalog (album by album) in my car. Wherever I go...there Bowie is.
I hope one day that David Bowie will come out of his retirement and once again bring to the world what he has to offer. He's like a one-man Beatles...He's the Elvis of Great Britain...A lot has changed in the world, and in music during the past 6 or 7 years...It has my hope that Bowie is marking these changes...and priming himself for a comeback. When it does happen, I will definitely be there to bear witness...to listen to the majestic sounds...to see the stylized images...and to once again feel the joy from all things David Bowie.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
A Different World
It scares me, and makes me sad. At 56 years old, legendary Apple
co-founder Steve Jobs died yesterday after suffering for years from
pancreatic cancer. Even with all of the money in the world, they could
not save him. How can a man who gave so much to the world be taken away
so soon? Rarely has the global tide ever been so swayed by the whims
of one individual. Jobs was not God, and was by no means a saint, yet
he was able to change the world almost single-handedly.
The Apple brand name that Steve Jobs created and cultivated has become more than just...a company that makes products. Apple is not a product, it is a way of life. The iTunes store not only changed the way we purchased music, it also changed the way we thought about music. The iPod opened up the floodgate of possibilities, and altered the way we listened to music forever. The iPhone went beyond everyone's imagination in terms of what a phone can and can not do...spoiling its millions of users with touchscreen features they didn't know they could not live without. The iPad became the ultimate media device, providing a convenience that forever changed the way people viewed content. All of this, is thanks to Steve Jobs.
Jobs was not a technological genius like his original Apple partner, Steve Wozniak. Unlike mavericks like Bill Gates, and Mark Zuckerberg, Jobs was not a science nerd who wrote code...nor was he was someone who stumbled into being an industry titan. Steve Jobs always thought big from the very beginning. Wozniak may have provided the fuel and the engine to get Apple up and running, yet it was Jobs who provided the torque. He was the one that utilized his enormous amount of strength to push Apple above and beyond the stratosphere. Not only did he (arguably) conquer the computer industry, Jobs also took apart the entertainment industry as well.
Not to take anything away from the achievements of Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg (two brilliant men who also changed the world in their own way)...yet Steve Jobs operated on a whole different level. Whereas Gates and Zuckerberg built a brand, then spent the rest of their time (so far) upgrading their products...Jobs would often think beyond the products Apple made. He was in many ways a grand visionary...who made the impossible, possible. Jobs took a successful computer company, and challenged himself and his employees to look beyond the limits of what a Silicon Valley company could do. As a result, the Apple logo is not just a corporate logo, it's a signifier of a variety of key words and phrases, such as..."innovative"..."user-friendly"..."ahead of the curve"..."top of the line"..."cool." One word never associated with Apple is "inexpensive"...yet Apple's pricing is relatively fair in terms of what their ground-breaking products have to offer. You pay more, yet you get more as well.
Now that Steve Jobs is gone, Apple will never ever be the same. Yes, I know that Jobs hired and trained all of the right people, and Tim Cook is a very capable successor to run Apple...yet what will be missing in the future will be...well, everything. Let's not forget what history has taught us. Jobs formed Apple in 1976 with Wozniak, then was forced out of the company in 1985. Guess what happened? Apple, without Jobs, suffered immensely, innovated nothing, and was driven to the brink of bankruptcy. Jobs rejoined Apple in 1997, and guess what happened? That's right, with Jobs at the helm, Apple eventually rose to become the most valuable company in the world. Do you see a pattern here? Granted, times have changed, and Apple's machinery by now can go on successfully for years and years without the genius innovation, showmanship and titanium torque of Steve Jobs. Yet aside from being on post-Jobs autopilot, what's really going to happen to Apple? Who is going to provide the driving force that will keep the company ahead of its competitors? Who's going to be the guy who makes sure that Apple products are so innovative and amazing that even long-time PC users are left with no other choice but to switch over to a Mac? The problem is clear, Steve Jobs has spoiled us all rotten. It's going to be close to impossible to replace what he had to offer. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb and just say it IS impossible to replace what Steve Jobs had to offer.
A world without Steve Jobs is not going to be an easy one. Whenever the iPhone 5 comes out, or when newer products are churned out by Apple in the future, I am going to be forever wondering "Would Jobs have approved this?" or "Is this up to Jobs' standards of perfection?" I almost feel as it I don't trust Apple without him. Yet I'm going to have to...we're all going to have to. Life must go on. Apple has become (whether you want to admit it, or not) an integral part of our daily lives...so Apple must go on too. It is my hope, that Apple will honor Steve Jobs' memory by not only sticking to the high standards of the brand that he created, yet will also be willing to go above and beyond what Apple has to offer...anticipating what consumers will want in the future. They must stay ahead of the curve, and reach for the sky...as Steve Jobs would not accept any other way.
______________________________________
PJ20: My Journey - PART III
Well, that "I don't know what" turned out to be an unexpected appearance
of an old friend. Not sure who saw who first, yet all of a sudden I
found myself face to face with Mark P., and old friend and classmate
from elementary school. I hadn't seen him in probably in 7 or 8 years,
yet had heard through the grapevine that Mark had becomes a ticket
scalper of some sort. He recognized me right away. I supposed I felt
embarrassed having someone from my hometown catch me wandering around
the street looking for Pearl Jam tickets. No matter, Mark was
sympathetic to my plight. In fact, he even offered his services to
help. I believer it took some time, yet the next thing I knew...I was
handing Mark some cash....I don't know, maybe $50 to $100 dollars. Then
I followed Mark through the crowd up to the Paramount theater entrance,
and was rushed inside the venue. There was no ticket involved. I
guess must've bribed a security guard or something. Don't know what
happened to Mark after that. Maybe he went to the show as well? Who
knows? I never saw him again, ever. All I know was that somehow, Mark
had gotten me inside the Paramount, and I was now going to see Pearl
Jam! It was very exciting, yet also a huge shock to the system.
Inside the Paramount, I felt lost and confused. It was weird for me to be a concert with no ticket to speak of. I felt as if I didn't belong there...as if I crashed a party I was never meant to attend in the first place. Of course, I was thrilled to be there....yet the shock of it all had yet to wear off. So, I found myself on autopilot...going through the motions as if I was attending any old event.
The New York date must have been chosen at the last moment, as the city was not listed on the tour t-shirts sold at the concession stands. Back then, I felt it was my duty to purchase concert shirt at every show I had the good fortune to attend. Getting a Pearl Jam concert shirt was a no-brainer, so I picked up a gray, Jeff Ament-designed t-shirt that featured a strange looking puppet wearing a shirt that had the word "Freak" on it.
I believe Mudhoney was already on stage by the time I got inside the auditorium, not that I knew who they were. With no ticket, I wandered around the theater...looking for a place to stand or sit. It was a special night for me, and I did not want to be interrupted by changing spots over and over again. To be safe, I went to the very back of theater, and stood at a spot in between two seating sections...so security wouldn't see me. It was there where I remained for the rest of the evening.
Over the loudspeakers, I could hear the chorus of Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun." Roadies lit candles around the instruments. The stage lay bare. The mood felt somber and sullen. It had been 12 days since the shocking suicide of Kurt Cobain at his home in Seattle. Everyone at the Paramount show was still struggling with it...especially the musicians.
When the lights went down, the crowd went wild. Pearl Jam hit the stage and went right into "Rearviewmirror." I could not believe it. In fact, I did not believe it. There they were, right in front of my eyes...Eddie Vedder, Mike McCready, Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament and Dave Abbruzzese. I felt sincerely humbled. Pearl Jam's music had become precious to me...sacred. I stood there frozen and dumbfounded. Seeing the band live on stage almost felt too much for me...as if I was being forced to let go of all of my preconceived notions about the band...and just be in the present, and accept exactly what was in front of me. I couldn't do it...Sure I was there at the concert, yet it felt like I wasn't there...as if I was observing the band from a far greater distance than I actually was.
The second song of the night, "Whipping," was brand new, and had yet to be released. I had no idea what it was, which was strange since I thought I knew every Pearl Jam song. Then it came...the cavalcade of amazing songs, one after another..."Go," "Animal," "Dissident," "Even Flow." "Glorified G," "Daughter"...each song was a classic. I fondly remember the crowd singing along to the chorus break on "Why Go." "Jeremy" sounded different, as the band changed the arrangement from the record. They played my favorite B-side,"Alone." "Garden" and "State of Love and Trust" got big cheers from the crowd. Eddie Vedder gave a long introduction to another unreleased new song called "Already In Love" (released as "Satan's Bed" eight months later). I didn't know what to make of it.
"Blood" closed out the show. What? Was the concert over already? What about..."Alive"?? What about "Porch, or "Release"?? Surely they wouldn't skip these important songs, right? Wrong. Pearl Jam came out for an encore, and played just three songs "Not For You," "Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town," and a cover of The Dead Boys' 1977 punk classic "Sonic Reducer." That was it. The show was over, and my band was gone.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Inside the Paramount, I felt lost and confused. It was weird for me to be a concert with no ticket to speak of. I felt as if I didn't belong there...as if I crashed a party I was never meant to attend in the first place. Of course, I was thrilled to be there....yet the shock of it all had yet to wear off. So, I found myself on autopilot...going through the motions as if I was attending any old event.
The New York date must have been chosen at the last moment, as the city was not listed on the tour t-shirts sold at the concession stands. Back then, I felt it was my duty to purchase concert shirt at every show I had the good fortune to attend. Getting a Pearl Jam concert shirt was a no-brainer, so I picked up a gray, Jeff Ament-designed t-shirt that featured a strange looking puppet wearing a shirt that had the word "Freak" on it.
I believe Mudhoney was already on stage by the time I got inside the auditorium, not that I knew who they were. With no ticket, I wandered around the theater...looking for a place to stand or sit. It was a special night for me, and I did not want to be interrupted by changing spots over and over again. To be safe, I went to the very back of theater, and stood at a spot in between two seating sections...so security wouldn't see me. It was there where I remained for the rest of the evening.
Over the loudspeakers, I could hear the chorus of Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun." Roadies lit candles around the instruments. The stage lay bare. The mood felt somber and sullen. It had been 12 days since the shocking suicide of Kurt Cobain at his home in Seattle. Everyone at the Paramount show was still struggling with it...especially the musicians.
When the lights went down, the crowd went wild. Pearl Jam hit the stage and went right into "Rearviewmirror." I could not believe it. In fact, I did not believe it. There they were, right in front of my eyes...Eddie Vedder, Mike McCready, Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament and Dave Abbruzzese. I felt sincerely humbled. Pearl Jam's music had become precious to me...sacred. I stood there frozen and dumbfounded. Seeing the band live on stage almost felt too much for me...as if I was being forced to let go of all of my preconceived notions about the band...and just be in the present, and accept exactly what was in front of me. I couldn't do it...Sure I was there at the concert, yet it felt like I wasn't there...as if I was observing the band from a far greater distance than I actually was.
The second song of the night, "Whipping," was brand new, and had yet to be released. I had no idea what it was, which was strange since I thought I knew every Pearl Jam song. Then it came...the cavalcade of amazing songs, one after another..."Go," "Animal," "Dissident," "Even Flow." "Glorified G," "Daughter"...each song was a classic. I fondly remember the crowd singing along to the chorus break on "Why Go." "Jeremy" sounded different, as the band changed the arrangement from the record. They played my favorite B-side,"Alone." "Garden" and "State of Love and Trust" got big cheers from the crowd. Eddie Vedder gave a long introduction to another unreleased new song called "Already In Love" (released as "Satan's Bed" eight months later). I didn't know what to make of it.
"Blood" closed out the show. What? Was the concert over already? What about..."Alive"?? What about "Porch, or "Release"?? Surely they wouldn't skip these important songs, right? Wrong. Pearl Jam came out for an encore, and played just three songs "Not For You," "Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town," and a cover of The Dead Boys' 1977 punk classic "Sonic Reducer." That was it. The show was over, and my band was gone.
TO BE CONTINUED...
September 16, 2011
PJ20 - My Journey - Part II
After falling in love with their first two albums Ten and Vs.
,
my world had changed. All of a sudden, Pearl Jam's music became the
soundtrack to my life. I listened to those two CDs over and over
again. Eventually, I learned the words to most of the songs...and sung
them often to myself as I walked the cold, dark streets of Manhattan.
I
had a friend back then named Paul, and it turns out he was a big Pearl
Jam fan as well. He sent me bootleg tapes, and told me more about the
band's B-sides and outtakes. Through Paul, I heard Pearl Jam B-sides
like "Wash" "Dirty Frank," "Footsteps" and "Yellow Ledbetter." I soon
found myself picking up CD singles from Vs...just to get the B-sides. "Alone", the B-side of "Go" was a favorite of mine back then.
Soon enough, I became anxious to see Pearl Jam in concert. In the fall of 1993, the band was on a world tour to promote Vs...
playing everywhere BUT New York. They played shows in California, New
Mexico, Texas, Kansas, Nevada, and other states...yet not one show on
the east coast. In 1994, the band continued the tour with concerts in
Ohio, Florida, Georgia, Massachusetts, and one show in Rochester, New
York...a good 300 plus miles north of Manhattan. Not a single New York
City area concert was booked for the entire tour...except one.
In a cruel twist of fate, Pearl Jam chose to play only one...just one concert in the entire New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Pennsylvania area. Worse, it wasn't even a concert where you could buy a ticket. For whatever reason, the band decided to play theaters and arenas all over the world, yet for New York...they insisted upon doing a concert for their fan club fans, and radio contests winners only. Fan club? What fan club? What was I, 12? I just loved their music, and wanted to see them play. I had no clue that I had to join some fan club in order to get a friggin concert ticket. I tried desperately to win tickets off of the radio, yet never got through. Dammit! Why would Pearl Jam give the finger to their loyal New York fans by playing an exclusive show at a 5,000 plus seater with no tickets on sale to the public? I mean this was it...this was the one and only show Pearl Jam was gonna play in New York. Not only that, it was the last night of the whole tour. They were coming to my town, and I was shut out...
...NOT on my watch! What? You think a little thing like a sold out concert with impossible-to-find tickets would be enough to stop me in my tracks? Are you kidding? Pearl Jam was MY band, and nothing was going to stop me from seeing them live in concert. I was going to that concert no matter what. It HAD to happen. I was an extreme case back in those days..what can I tell ya?
From my modest Mott Street apartment, I made my way to 7th avenue and 33rd street...the site of Madison Square Garden. Man, WHY couldn't they have held the concert at the Garden? They could've sold it out in a second...and accommodated 18,000 die-hard fans. But noooooooooo...Pearl Jam had to be a bunch of irreverent, anti-commercial bastards and book them themselves into the 5,000 plus capacity Paramount Theater...a venue located inside of the Madison Square Garden complex, yet not part of the arena itself. It's the same space that held the old Felt Forum in the 70's and 80's, and is now known as "The Theater at Madison Square Garden." Whatever, I'd been to the venue before for The Moody Blues, James Brown and Paul Simon (with Art Garfunkel). The venue wasn't the problem. The problem was that it was too small for Pearl Jam, so most of their fans were going to be shut out. Not me, though...
I had no plan, and certainly no ticket, yet I had been to plenty of concerts in the past where I showed up without a ticket. Usually, I'd either get a last-minute one at the box office, buy one from a fan, or just flag down a street scalper to a ticket. This time though, there was nothing. NOBODY had any tickets. It made sense. By not putting any tickets on sale to the general public, all of the scalpers were shut out. Dammit! I HAD to go that concert. My entire life depended on it! Ah...youth..
It was just impossible. There were too many people looking for too few tickets. I refused to give up though, determined as I was. After a while, I realized that the only way I was going to get inside that theater to see Pearl Jam was through some sort of miracle. Only a miracle could save me from missing out on the hottest concert of the year, .and that's exactly what happened.
TO BE CONTINUED...
September 16, 2011
PJ20 - My Journey - Part I
Saturday,
October 19, 1993. At Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia, the Toronto
Blue Jays decimated the Philadelphia Phillies 10 to 3 in Game 3 of the
World Series. In Hollywood, the Sylvester Stallone/Wesley Snipes action
movie DEMOLITION MAN held the number one position at the box office for
the second week in a row. In New York, a lone figure walked into an
HMV record store on the Upper West Side of Manhattan...and emerged with a
CD that would soon change his life.
The CD had no title on its cover, just the band's name...and a distorted picture of an angry sheep's face pressed against a gate. No matter, the title of the album was announced a week or two earlier in Cameron Crowe's detailed cover story on the band in the latest issue of Rolling Stone...VS. Yet the title was just a title, and the cover was just a cover. What mattered most was the sound coming off a not-so-innocent looking, 4.7 inch plastic disc. On its own of course, the disc made no sound, yet when placed inside a boom box, with the volume turned way up, something incredible happened...
It's been a strange journey. My love/hate relationship with Seattle rockers Pearl Jam began with a curiosity, which turned to hate, then exploded into unyielding love and obsessive adoration, then confusion, and finally...indifference. I've probably exhausted all ranges of the emotional spectrum listening to, thinking about, and experiencing any and all things Pearl Jam. This year marks the band's 20th anniversary. To further commemorate this milestone, I thought I would share with you all my story...as it relates to the mighty Pearl Jam.
By the summer of 1991, I had given up. My beloved Jane's Addiction had broken up, and as far I was concerned...there was no one else left to be excited about. I still loved the older bands, yet they were all either inactive, broken up, or traveling on a plane that I no longer wanted anything to do with (i.e. Kiss, Aerosmith, Tom Petty, Billy Joel, Bob Seger, etc...). Guns N' Roses began a huge tour that year to support their new Use Your Illusion albums...yet I hated Guns N' Roses at the time. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were on fire that fall with Blood Sugar Sex Magik, yet I had no interest in them. I thought that all new rock and roll sucked, and I had no love for hair bands, nor heavy metal. The concerts I attended in 1991 were all artists from an older generation....ZZ Top, Neil Young and Crazy Horse, Paul Simon, Yes, Sting, Don Henley, Frank Sinatra, The Moody Blues, etc...
The only new music I truly loved from 1991 was U2's masterpiece Achtung Baby, released on November 19th. I literally had no clue that two months earlier, Sony's Epic Records released a CD by a brand new band out of Seattle, whose name sounded odd and mysterious, and whose debut album title gave away little about who the band was, nor what they were about. There was just a number to go by...Ten.
In 1992, Pearl Jam's Ten exploded over the airwaves. In New York, on 102.7 WNEW FM, tracks like "Even Flow", "Jeremy" and "Alive" were played on a loop. Yet since the DJs rarely identified what songs they were playing (nor who was performing them), I still had no clue. My knowledge and awareness of Pearl Jam was still nil. All I had was my ears, and to my ears...I thought "Even Flow" was a cover of a Rainbow song called "Jealous Lover." I thought "Alive" was some sissy song sung by some lame 90's band like the Gin Blossoms. And "Jeremy"? I don't think I ever really heard it. No matter, it all sounded like crap to me back then. Nothing I would ever buy, right?
Over the course of the year, I would hear the name "Pearl Jam" thrown about by this or that person, yet I had no idea what it was. I went to see the Cameron Crowe movie SINGLES that fall, yet despite the presence of Pearl Jam (3 of its members, anyway) and Alice In Chains in the movie, as well as the fact the fact that the film's soundtrack was a classic...none of it registered with me at the time. I love the movie, yet the music did nothing for me.
A young woman I used to know named Delilah was telling about this new Seattle band, and their big hit record "Jeremy." I had never heard of it, so she sung it for me...not the whole song, but just a verse or two, and a chorus. Nope, still hadn't heard of it. I was blissfully ignorant, and very out of touch as to what was going on in music (some say I'm still like that). I didn't think it mattered. All of the great music was in the past. No new band could ever be great. It just wasn't possible.
Speaking of greatness, in October of 1992, I had the good fortune of attending the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert at Madison Square Garden. The all-star concert featured one icon after another...John Mellencamp, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Lou Reed, Stevie Wonder, Johnny Cash, Chrissie Hynde, Roger McGuinn, George Harrison, and of course...Bob Dylan. Also on the bill that day were two men announced as "Eddie and Mike" from Pearl Jam, who came out with acoustic guitars to sing Dylan's "Masters of War." I had no idea who these guys were, nor what they were doing there. I didn't really care though, as I was there to see the big guns...
In February 1993, I spent some time with old friend Tom. He and I were once very close, and played together in a band for years. Yet we had since grown apart, and became more accustomed to being strangers than friends. Tom had mentioned Pearl Jam in passing the previous December, as he was concerned that since they were the opening act, he wasn't going to be able to get a ticket to see the Keith Richards New Year's Eve show at the Academy in Manhattan. I didn't make much of it...I just figured Pearl Jam was a band for "other people." Yet Tom brought up Pearl Jam again that night in February. I told him my issue with new music, and how much I missed Jane's Addiction. Tom told me "You should listen to Pearl Jam. You would like them." Really? Pearl Jam for me? I wasn't into that kind of music...or so I thought.
A few days later, I was roaming around the East Village in Manhattan, catching some Disney kids flick called HOMEWARD BOUND: THE INCREDIBLE JOURNEY at the Loews Village Theater VII on Third Avenue (I saw literally every movie back then). I think it was after that movie, I strolled on over to (probably) Tower Records on 4th and Broadway, and picked up Pearl Jam Ten. It was cold outside, and there was snow on the ground as I trekked back home to 284 Mott Street (at Houston)...hoping for the best.
My hardwood floors creaked as I stumbled inside my small bedroom. I took off my boots, and placed the Ten CD in my boom box. My guess is that I listened to the CD all the way through...all eleven (not ten) tracks. The experience I had was excruciatingly painful...I hated...HATED Ten, and now hated Pearl Jam as well. The music was boring. The songs were boring. It all sounded like mush to me, and I absolutely despised lead singer Eddie Vedder's voice. Back then, I had no idea what they looked like....so I pictured the band consisting of nothing but dirty, heavy metal older men, with long beards, and a thousand piercings and tattoos. To my ears, Pearl Jam were ugly. They were an ugly band, with an ugly sound....definitely not for me. I vowed never to listen to Ten again...
Months rolled by. My hatred of Pearl Jam continued, and was reinforced by an encounter I had with a woman I knew named Lisa. We were talking one day when a song came on the radio. I had heard the song over and over again on the radio, and hated it. As the opening notes filled our ears, Lisa perked up and said "Alright! This is my kind of music...Pearl Jam. Yeah!" Yuck, Pearl Jam. This proves once again how much they suck. Little did I know that the song Lisa loved (and I hated) was not by Pearl Jam at all, but by a new group from San Diego that sounded (at the time) very much like Pearl Jam....Stone Temple Pilots. The name of the song was "Plush," off of their 1992 debut album Core. Back then, it all sounded the same to me.
So what changed? What could possibly drive me from hate to love? What else? An accident. From what I can recall, it was either a rerun, or some sort of Saturday Night Live clip show I caught on TV one weekend. One of the clips shown was Pearl Jam performing the song "Alive" on the Saturday Night Live set (originally broadcast April 11, 1992). This was the first time I had ever seen the band before...and I was shocked. These were not old, bearded, scary heavy metal dudes. These guys were young, and looked pretty cool. Pearl Jam guitarists Stone Gossard and Mike McCready wore their hair very long back then, as did bassist Jeff Ament, drummer Dave Abbruzzese, and lead vocalist Eddie Vedder. The SNL clip only lasted a few minutes, but it was just incredible. Pearl Jam were so...vibrant, and exciting to watch live (well, live on TV that is). In too a brief a moment, I felt I was watching greatness come alive before my eyes. I was in shock. Perhaps I had Pearl Jam all wrong...
I believe I made a second attempt to listen to Ten after watching the band rock out on Saturday Night Live, but I still did not like it. Yet it was too late, I was infected by the Pearl Jam virus. Though I hated their first album, I somehow was excited to get their next album. When Pearl Jam landed on the cover of Rolling Stone, I read their Cameron Crowe-penned cover story right away. The article, one of the best I've ever seen in Rolling Stone, was very inspiring, and reinforced my emerging interest in all things Pearl Jam.
Saturday, October 19, 1993. The moment had arrived. My interest in Pearl Jam was very high, yet it had to be all about the music. If VS. (the band's second album) was no good, then that would have been the end of it. Sure, they looked great on Saturday Night Live, and came off as interesting and authentic in Rolling Stone...yet if their music still sucked, there was no point in even thinking about Pearl Jam any more. Yet instinctively, I am somehow knew I would love it.
From the opening false start on "Go", the album's opening track, my heart soared at the sound I was hearing. This was MY music. It spoke to me in way that... felt deeply personal. Each song I heard on the album sounded big, bold and beautiful..."Go", "Animal", "Daughter," "Glorified G," "Dissident" all blew me away. I felt as if I was listening to the Beatles for the first time. "W.M.A.", "Blood," "Rearviewmirror," "Rats," "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town," "Leash," "Indifference" all had a profound effect on me. It wasn't so much the lyrics that drew me in, it was the music...the melodies, the sound. It all felt very...exclusive, as if Pearl Jam were an invitation-only club, in which I was now a member in good standing. Immediately, I wanted more...I demanded more...I listened to VS. again, and again, and again. I began to have a natural urge each and every day to listen to the CD. It seemed to have everything I wanted.
When I fall in love with a band, I want to learn everything I can about them. This was pre-internet, so it wasn't as if I could jump on a computer and read all about Pearl Jam, and listen to their songs online. In 1993, all I had was the radio, my music collection, the New York Times, and Rolling Stone. I did have one other thing though, my dreaded Ten CD...which I had hated so much. Next thing I knew...the album I hated so much suddenly became one of my favorites. Ten was a masterpiece, and I was a fool.
Looking back now, it astonishes me how I could have hated Ten songs like "Even Flow," "Alive," "Why Go" "Garden" "Deep" and "Release." Yet I was a different person back then. I must have changed somehow...because the same music that sounded like nails-to-a-chalkboard to my ears eight months earlier, now sounded like gold, giving me more joy than I thought was possible. This music not only sounded good, it had depth, it had meaning...it had some serious weight to it.
The key track off of Ten, the one that unlocked the door and allowed me to take in all of the songs on the album in a much different light...was "Porch." It begins with a sort-of strange, fast, staccato rap over a churning guitar...with the lyrics "What the fuck is this world...running to you didn't...leave a message at least I...could have heard your voice one last time..." After another verse, the entire band kicks in for the chorus "Hear my name. Take a good look. This could be the day..." Listening to the chorus, I was reminded of my favorite band in the world...The Who. I could easily picture Roger Daltrey singing the chorus of "Porch" over Pete Townshend's ferocious guitar, John Entwistle's roaring bass, and Keith Moon's explosive drums. Though I didn't know it at the time, it turns out that Eddie Vedder was a huge Who fan.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Forever Young
Mornings were particularly tough back then. I was beyond miserable, and then had to sit through a slow and mind-numbing day at the office...counting 8-digit purchase order numbers. My mindset was piss poor. Yet creeping through the haze of sadness and doom, I heard the sounds of Bob Dylan. The KCRW DJ was honoring Bob Dylan's 60th birthday, and remarked what a milestone it was. In the front of my mind, I didn't really care. Perhaps I was a little bit interested, as I remember thinking how old 60 was for someone like Bob Dylan. Yet at the time, I had lost touch with both Dylan and his music. I was no longer the fan I once was. I was deep in the hole of gloom and doom, and hearing about Bob Dylan's 60th birthday served only as a reminder of how far removed I was from the world outside...and how far gone I was from the days when I used to listen to and enjoy Bob Dylan's music.
Here I am today, exactly ten years later. The situation has (thankfully) changed dramatically. My mindset is solid...neither good, nor bad...just solid. I am in a much better place than I was ten years ago. Better still, I am able to enjoy Bob Dylan just like I used to. I feel as in touch with his music as I did as a teenager. I can now marvel at the fact that the Minnesota poet, singer, songwriter, magician, hardest working enigma in showbiz is now 70 years old today.
You gotta wonder...how does someone like Bob Dylan celebrate his 70th birthday? How does Bob Dylan do ANYTHING for that matter? Does he like birthday cake? Does he ever take out the garbage? Does he have any friends? What does he do for fun? No matter, such trivial things are just about curiosity, and have nothing to do with who Bob Dylan is...nor what he has given the world for the past 50 years or so.
It's amazing, it's all there on his first album...simply entitled Bob Dylan. Recorded when he was just 20 years old in November 1961 (and released four months later), Dylan's debut album is one of his best. The beauty and irony of it was the fact that the record was not a showcase for Dylan's songwriting. Only two of the album's 13 tracks were written by Bob Dylan..."Talkin' New York" and "Song to Woody." As good as both songs are, neither of them are considered classics. Instead, Dylan fills the album with traditional folk songs...songs that probably pre-date his very existence. Yet its what Dylan does with these songs that is truly remarkable.
His weakness is his strength...that's what comes to mind when listening to Bob Dylan sing. His voice is not pitch perfect, nor does it have the dynamic range of say...his old pal Joan Baez. Yet what it does have is attitude...an attitude not really expressed in music before. It's dirty, it's rebellious, it's cynical, it's wise, it's old, it's full of wit and is as dangerous as any weapon...Bob Dylan's voice is at once a spit on your face, as well a kiss on your mouth. These contradictions, among others, get to the heart of Dylan's voice...Dylan's sound. When he sings, Dylan is saying "This is my voice, you got a problem with that?" His unique approach to vocals redefined what music is...bringing it further down to Earth, and also (in typical Dylan fashion) lifting it higher than its ever been before.
Listen to that first album...it's all there. He's rambling. He's yodeling. He's talk-singing; he's sing-taking. His voice and guitar are filled with a contagious exuberance...all the while he's singing about pain, death, and dying. Listen to what he does with "In My Time of Dyin'"...how he scowls out the words like a man both angry and accepting of his own mortality. Bukka White's "Fixin' To Die" is given a similar treatment. "Man of Constant Sorrow" is sung by a man who's weathered the storms of a long and grueling life. How Dylan achieved this at 20 years old, with the whole world ahead of him...mystifies me.
My favorite track on the album has always been his version of "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down"....a song he learned from a blues guitar player named Rick Von Schmidt "in the green pastures of Harvard University." Ever since I was 16, I've always loved Dylan's haunting vocals on this track...and the way it underplays the infectious melody. It proves that Bob Dylan was a songwriter even before he was a songwriter. He was able to take somebody else's song and truly make it his own. And just think...this was only just the beginning...just the start of a long career featuring hundreds of amazing songs written and performed by Bob Dylan.
Wherever you are, whomever you might be...Happy Birthday Bob. Thanks for the songs, thanks for the melodies and memories, and for thanks for staying forever young...
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Tuesday, February 1, 2011
HAIR at the Pantages
When I was 10 old, my parents took me to Connecticut to see a new movie that had recently come out. Stamford and Greenwich, Connecticut seemed to always get the pick of the litter when it came to hot new releases...and this particular release was red hot. The movie was based on a 1968 Broadway musical created, written by and starring James Rado and Gerome Ragni, with music by Galt MacDermot. It took place in the 1960's, and featured all sorts of hippies and the like. I am sure I didn't understand much of it...yet there's one thing I did understood very clearly...the music. The music featured in the movie was jut fantastic..."Aquarius", "Donna", "Manchester England", "The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In)", "Color Spade", "Electric Blues", "White Boys", "Black Boys" and more...Sure, I had experienced show tunes before...yet not like this. This was the music that spoke to me the most. Yet it wasn't just the music. This was my first exposure to the infamous trifecta of Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll. The movie had it all...great music, cool characters, and a glimpse into an exotic lifestyle that was completely foreign to me...This was HAIR.
I became a HAIR fan pretty fast...making sure to get the soundtrack album, as well as the color book of the movie..which had pictures from every scene. I would listen to the HAIR soundtrack and look at the book over and over again. I've never been a show tunes kind of guy...yet THIS was my show. 12 years later, I rediscovered HAIR all over again when I bought the original Broadway soundtrack on CD for a voice class. I was asked to choose songs to sing to the class...the choice seemed obvious to me. At 22, I belted out a spirited version of the song "Hair" in front of my entire class. A few weeks later I sang "The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In)" to a girl I was crazy about...then later to my entire class.
Over the next few years, I found myself listening to songs from the HAIR Broadway soundtrack over and over again. They always sounded good. In 2007, to my delight, I had the opportunity to see HAIR on stage for the first time. I had no clue what HAIR would be like on stage...and what I saw surprised me. The stage version was very very different from the movie. Whereas the movie had a concrete story and plot...the stage musical has no real plot at all. Instead, the stage version of HAIR was more of a gathering of a hippie tribe...set in one location. The characters talk and dance and sing with each other, and in this we are given the essence of their characters, relationships, and plights. The 2007 show I saw was a small production in a tiny theater in Hollywood, yet it was great. The performers wandered into the audience before the show even began...handing out flowers and the like. The show was fantastic...and featured all of my fave HAIR songs, except one...a song also cut from the movie as well...called "The Bed."No matter...At the end of the show, my date and I were coaxed on stage to dance with the cast for "The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In)," which was awesome...
When I heard that the recent Broadway revival of HAIR was coming to L.A. for a few weeks in January, I put it on my "must-see" list right away....then, I paused. Tickets were expensive, and few good seats were available. Did I really want to spend money on this? Considering I had no one to go with, would I even have a good time if I went? Feeling low, and not particularly inspired to do anything...I was just going to skip it. Yet on Friday the 21st...I saw that HAIR reminder in my email IN box, and noticed there were just 5 shows left before the production left L.A. for good. As an itch I needed to scratch, I checked on seats...yet the selection didn't impress me. Perhaps I will go...but when? It was too late to catch the Friday evening show, yet the Saturday afternoon show didn't feel right by me. The Saturday evening show didn't have good seats, and also would be difficult for me to get to as I had to work that day. Good seats were important to me as a trade-off for having to spend an evening out by myself. Eventually, after some further debate...I bought a 4th row orchestra seat for the 6:30pm show on Sunday, January 23rd...the very last show of the L.A. run.
I arrived at the Pantages Theatre with plenty of time to spare. There was a buzz in the air...an excitement. I could feel it. The place was packed...which impressed me. I was hoping that the curtain would be open, with the performers roaming around the stage and the audience before the show...handing out flowers and such...just as they did with that smaller production of HAIR I saw in 2007. Yet this time as I walked inside the theater, there was just a large, closed curtain with a giant moon projected on it. My seat was just off-center to the right...in the 4th row. There were some serious HAIR fans in the audience...people who had already seen this current L.A. production 3 or 4 times already. People were saying to each other..."Are you going to dance tonight?" I wondered if I would get a chance to dance with the cast on stage, as I did in 2007. I overheard a conversation between a man in the front row and a woman in the row in front of me. Apparently the man had played "Claude" in the stage version of HAIR for years...and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of HAIR creator James Rado. Was James Rado going to be at the show, I wondered?
In the crowd that night I saw a few minor celebs...actor Gary Cole, actress Doris Roberts, as well as Dr. Terry. Before the show began, there was a rumble in the audience when a group of people arrived at their seats. It was then that it was announced that HAIR creator James Rado was sitting right BEHIND ME...and that today was his 79th birthday! The whole audience cheered and sang Happy Birthday. I couldn't believe I had better seats than the man who helped create and write the original HAIR back in 1967! Rado looked really good at 79...sporting shoulder-length hair, a green NY Jets t-shirt and jeans...still very much the hippie. Needless to say, my section got lots of attention that night. Many cast members smiled when they saw James Rado in the audience...and would often come over to his seat to say hello and interact with him. The cast was often out in the audience during certain parts of the show...performing in the aisles near the seats.
The show itself was excellent, of course...a bigger version than the production I saw in 2007. Once again, they sang all of my favorite songs from the Broadway soundtrack...including the precious "Easy To Be Hard", "Frank Mills" and "Three-Five-Zero-Zero." I didn't care for their revised arrangement of "Don't Put It Down" (as an old-fashioned ragtime tune), and once again...the production skipped "The Bed" entirely. The role of "Woof" was played by an understudy who played it very gay...contrary to what I recall about the character...yet he was good, nonetheless. Steel Burnkhardt (how's THAT for a name) was fantastic as the charismatic "Berger"...the unofficial leader of the tribe, Paris Remillard was good as his pal "Claude", and Darius Nichols was perfect as "Hud." Caren Lyn Tacket was too melodramatic and desperate as "Sheila", yet I did enjoy Phryre Hawkins as "Dionne"...who sung the show's opening song..."Aquarius."
The direction and choreography was generally very good, and very clever...though I didn't care for the way they presented the ending. The final song "The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In)" was presented as a pretentious and melodramatic downer...as opposed to feeling of strength and hope in the aftermath of tragedy (as per the movie, as well as the 2007 stage version I saw). So, the show was not perfect...yet it still was very enjoyable to listen to, and watch. It's always great to hear those amazing songs again...
After the curtain call...as the band played an instrumental version of "Hair"...I saw an actor place a guard rail by the stage steps. Sure enough, tons of people started lining up to dance with the cast on the huge Pantages stage. Despite feeling shy and introverted...I forced myself to get on up and dance on stage with the best of them. It was great...There I was, on a packed stage...filled with HAIR cast members and the theater audience...all together as one...singing and dancing together. I loved it. Better still, James Rado was up there on stage with everyone else. I walked up to Rado, and thanked him for creating such a fantastic musical. He told me it was great to see new fans attend the show. It meant a lot to me to meet him...and thank him for all of the good HAIR has done for me. To commemorate the moment, I made sure to take a picture of James Rado and I on stage. It's funny...one minute Rado is creating HAIR with Gerome Ragni in the 60's...the next minute he's getting his picture taken with me...someone who was not even born when HAIR originally opened, yet who loved the musical just the same. I do love HAIR, and am very thankful I had a chance to witness the sensation on stage once again...
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Thursday, January 13, 2011
Who's a Big Boy?
Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday my 17 inch MacBook Pro...Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday big guy! Can't believe how much you've grown...
That's right, it was a year ago today that the nice Fed Ex man brought me a brown (box) bundle of joy...and my life hasn't been the same ever since. Okay, getting a 7 inch MacBook Pro didn't change my life in the way that I had hoped...in fact, it didn't really change my life at all. BUT, I do like it very much...and have been very happy with it.
Sure there have been issues, and errors, and...yes, gulp...minor damage...yet MBP17 and I are survivors. We're both very much alike, and are very complex and complicated machines...that are more or less...user-friendly. We've been sick, bloated, and incurred a dent or two. We each have our likes and dislikes (I dislike pepper, MBP17 dislikes anything with Microsoft on it). We both love music, and movies. We are both stubborn, prefer our batteries fully charged, and love to sleep. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between the two of us. I think I am little taller, though sometimes I am not so sure.
MBP17 loves to travel, and I've taken him to the movies, bookstores, coffee shops, and even the office. He's just as happy sitting in my lap as he is on my desk. We've journeyed back in forth to my One-To-One Mac classes at The Grove shopping mall for basic courses, and The Beverly Center for more advanced courses. We even made a trip to The ISH pad (featuring Quinn) at one point, showing off our latest video project.
There were naysayers, sure. People who told me what kind of computer I should have...how I do not need a laptop like my MBP17. "17 inches it too big" they'd say. Even the guy at the Apple store tried to convince me to buy a cheaper model, with less memory, and slower processor. "You don't need all that extra stuff...." he said. How did he know what I needed? I didn't even know, so why should he? One thing I DID know is that I wanted to be open to the possibilities that more memory and a faster processor could offer...and I was absolutely right. Every time I go into video editing (courtesy of the iMovie software), I thank my luck stars I got the bigger and faster everything....
17 inch MacBook Pro, you're still a mystery to me. As much as I know you, there's still a lot I don't know. That said, I love ya buddy...and look forward to exploring the many things you can offer in our 2nd year together. Happy Birthday MBP17! Wishing you the best.
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Friday, December 17, 2010
A Farewell to King
When CNN's Larry King Live first hit the air in the mid-80's, I was in high school. I can't say I watched the show back then, yet I watched the show here and there as time went on. A horrific woman I was working for in 2004 was a big fan of the show, and through her inspiration...I programmed Larry King Live into my Tivo, and never looked back. For the last 6 years, I've been a loyal fan of the show...even when it's not good...even when it's awful. Every night I'd come home from work and check to see who the guest was on Larry King Live. He always had such great guests...sometimes people you wouldn't see anywhere else...Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, Barbra Streisand, Frank Sinatra, and many many more. Celebrities, world leaders, lawyers, all felt comfortable around Larry King. His style was gentle, yet not effete...friendly, yet with an inquisitive edge. He was professional, yet far from polished...
At his worst, King could be misguided, silly, and just plain wrong. He made a huge deal on the air that recent guest Al Pacino had only been on his show once before...just ONCE before...when in fact Pacino had been on King's show at least twice before. He embarrassed himself in March during a fascinatingly out-of-touch interview with rapper Snoop Dog...where King took Snoop Dog's reference to the great 70's soul, pop, rock, r&b, funk African American band Earth, Wind & Fire and began singing "Spinning Wheel" by the middle-of-the-road, all-white band Blood, Sweat & Tears. To Snoop Dog's credit, he sang along without comment...
Yet Larry King's mistakes only made him all the more human. Here wasn't the cold, refined, calculated, and rehearsed manner and carefully edited approach of say...Mike Wallace, Diane Sawyer, or Katie Couric. Instead, King was just an old Jewish Brooklyn boy...rough around the edges, yet affable...and rarely, if ever, controlled or self-conscious. Whereas Barbara Walters and Oprah Winfrey were bonafide superstars...Larry King was just an average guy. He was like someone you actually knew. You could relate to him...not all of the time, yet some of the time. Some of his questions were dumb, yet that was part of the fun. King would ask people questions that no respectable journalist would ever ask...not in a Stuttering John (from the Howard Stern show), antagonistic sort of way...yet in a harmless, heartfelt way. King was like your grandfather in a way, hung-up on old times, and doing the best he can to stay current...and have a conversation with a generation he may be clearly out of sync with. Picture your grandfather having a conversation with Lady Gaga, or Paris Hilton...that was Larry King.
Last night's final Larry King Live was fantastic...a perfect example of what was great, and what was not so great about the show. As usual, the guests were fantastic...Bill Maher (who was hysterical), Ryan Seacrest, and Dr. Phil in the LA. studio, Barbara Walters, Diane Sawyer, Brian Williams, Katie Couric and Donald Trump in New York. Regis Philbin tried to get King to sing an old song...which didn't happen. President Barack Obama sent over a taped message. Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger said some nice things..and even declared December 16, 2010 Larry King day in California. Tony Bennett sang "The Best Is Yet To Come" as a tribute to King during his Louisiana concert. On the awkward side, you had SNL Fred Armisen's unfunny attempt to impersonate King, and ask him questions. Worse, was an overlong live interview with Bill Clinton...who was on horrible tape-delay from Arkansas. Also, Katie Couric read an embarrassing tribute poem to King...written by herself and Larry King producer Wendy Walker. Some of the poem was cute, yet it went on too long...and much of it was cringe-worthy. On the positive side, King later brought out his wife Shawn, and his two young boys...ages 11 and 10. The 10-year old had everyone in stitches doing impressions of his old man. They both seemed happy that their father will now have more time to spend with them, now that his show is ending. It was very touching.
I admit, watching the last ever Larry King Live was an emotional experience for me; I got a little choked up watching King say goodbye. My reaction surprised me, as I didn't feel this way when I watched the final episodes of other television shows I watched...like Friends, Seinfeld, The Shield, The Sopranos, 24, etc...I think this stems from the fact that unlike the other programs, Larry King Live was not episodic...nor infringed upon by television seasons, or long hiatuses. For the past 25 plus years...the show never went off the air. All year 'round, I would let Larry King into my home...into my bedroom (where I generally watch all of my television shows). His show was a consistent presence in my life...like an old friend....and like an old friend, I am very sorry to see him go. There will be other television shows to watch, sure...and I am bound to give King's successor, British host Pierce Morgan a try...yet Larry King will be hard to replace. My Tivo will miss him. He was truly one-of-a-kind...
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Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Yeah Yeah Yeah
Just watched a most incredible concert on my Mac. Four men, all in their 20's...performing on a small stage in the round in front of a predominantly female audience shrieking like there's no tomorrow. The raw intensity of the moment is a sight, and sound to behold. Four men who held the world in the palm of their hands...creating incredible music in front of 7,000 witnesses in Washington, D.C. one winter's night in 1964. Thank goodness the cameras were rolling, otherwise I may not have believed it...
We still have not gotten over The Beatles. It's been 40 years since their demise, yet the world still misses them...still longs to have them in their lives. Sure, not everyone is a Beatles fan. Some do not care for their sound, nor image. Some prefer other bands, or other forms of music. Yet for many, including myself...The Beatles made some of the greatest music ever...music that is timeless, that never gets old...that always presents itself as nothing less than sheer brilliance.
Today marks a historic day in Beatles history, which is strange considering it is 2010. For the first time ever, Beatles music is now officially available for download via Apple's insanely popular iTunes store. Now, those without can buy their Beatles tunes one at a time at cost of $1.29, or download an entire album for $12.99. Too little, too late? Perhaps, as most people who like The Beatles probably have all of their music already. Yet nonetheless, it's a great step in making The Beatles as prevalent as they should be in the 21st century...iTunes has been THE preeminent music store for years now, and it always felt wrong that the Fab Four were conspicuously absent from their inventory. Now, after so many years of rumors and negotiations...The Beatles are finally on iTunes, and I could not be more pleased about it.
This morning, I soaked up every bit of publicity generated from today's big announcement. I read the news stories...On the Apple site, I caught all 5 of its television spots for Beatles iTunes, as well as a short promo showing the history of The Beatles. The creme de la creme for me was the appearance on the Apple site of a complete Beatles concert from February 11, 1964 in Washington, D.C....their first ever concert in America. You could watch the entire 40-minute concert for free via internet stream...and I did. Watch the concert here:
http://www.apple.com/the-beatles/concert/
The show itself is incredible. As much as I already knew about the Beatles, it is still shocking to see and hear how great they were as a band in concert. The set-up was primitive, with a small, circular stage....and a drum riser that had to be turned every other song to face a different part of the audience. There's only one roadie, the ever-loyal Mal Evans...who helps with the drum riser, otherwise The Beatles on their own to move their own equipment and microphones. From the opening bars of "Roll Over Beethoven" to the closing notes of "Long Tall Sally" the energy and spirit is beyond superb. Check out George Harrison, all smiles, performing his simple, trademark licks with such an innocent, youthful enthusiasm. Check out Ringo Starr...and see how he absolutely rocks....proving in every which way that he is indeed one of the greatest rock and roll drummers. I'm here to tell you, Ringo's drumming at this D.C. show is very exciting, and absolutely fantastic. Check out Paul McCartney, with a cheeky expression, and a voice of pure charm and perfection. He's the seasoned pro at 21-years old. McCartney's between-song announcements are priceless...filled with such sweet naivety. Check out John Lennon...the true rock and roll rebel. Similar to their appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show a week prior, Lennon's presence seems strangely low-key...preferring to hang back for the most part to support his mates. Yet when he does take front and center on songs like..."This Boy," "Please Please Me", "She Loves You", "I Want To Hold Your Hand" and especially "Twist and Shout"...John Lennon's vocals take hold and "rattle your bones" (to misquote Dylan). The Beatles were the first Supergroup...a group were each individual member was not only integral to the sound of the band, yet also was a star in his own right. If there is any doubt to this, this '64 D.C. concert is the proof...one of many that would occur over the next 5 or 6 years of the band's existence...
I admit, despite my enthusiasm for such...I will not be downloading a single Beatles track from iTunes. The reason is simple...I already have it all....twice. I have all of The Beatles albums on vinyl, and also own their entire catalog on CD (including CDs not offered on iTunes, such as the Anthology series, Beatles LOVE, and the BBC Sessions). One thing I do not have it the entire Beatles catalog in Mono...the original format used by the Fab Four to record. There is a $160 box set that has this, yet it is not (yet) offered on iTunes. Nonetheless, I applaud anything and everything that continues to promote The Beatles...especially something as modern, innovative and ubiquitous as iTunes. Sure, there's nothing for me to download now...yet I think today is only the first step. Who knows what the Apples (Beatles Apple records, and Steve Jobs' Apple) will offer in the future? Today I watched a complete Beatles concert online...yet as John, Paul, George and Ringo might jest, tomorrow never knows...
___________________________________
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I Hate The Sound Of Laughter...
...okay, I don't hate the sound of ALL laughter. I love to hear
children laugh....I love to hear my friends and relatives laugh. It's
just....let me explain...
There is woman I know....VERY attractive woman...gorgeous eyes, great figure, fun personality, and quite smart. Of course, she has a serious boyfriend...yet I used to really like talking with her. We used to chat all of the time...email, IM, etc...THEN...it happened. I heard her laugh...then I heard it again...and again. In short time, I became repulsed by her...sure, there were other things, yet the main reason I could not stand her was because I had to listen to her laugh. She actually has TWO kinds of laughs...The first, I like to call 'The Choke"...a laugh that sounds like combination of machine-gun rapid fire, and someone choking to death. Trust me, this laugh is quite unpleasant. Yet as bad as this first laugh is...it does not compare to the other kind of laugh she indulges in...something I like to call "The Hyena"... aka "The Sick Monkey." This particular laugh enters my skull, crawls through my brain, and comes out only to hit me over the head with a frying pan. Picture an orangutan at the zoo (or in the jungle) laughing in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible...and at the highest pitch possible. Now picture hearing that laugh for 20-30 minutes at a time...taunting you...mocking you. You understand now? It's just...intolerable, and stops me in my tracks each and every time. Eventually, I slowly stepped away from all contact with this woman. I HAD to...I couldn't talk with her anymore...for fear of hearing that awful laugh(s).
Sometimes at the movies, I want to kill the insanely-laughing person next to me...you know...the guy or gal who laughs at literally EVERYTHING. True, they may be on some form of controlled substance...yet still, there is such a thing as over-laughter...otherwise known as laughaholism. Laughaholics are almost as bad as their booze-laden counterparts...They over-indulge, and harm others in the process. Sometimes they will be so out of control with laughter that they enhance the experience by clapping their hands, slapping their knees, or stomping their feet. Please people...control yourselves! It's very disturbing. I once had to walk out of a movie years ago because the person near me was laughing too loud and hard for me to hear what was going on in the movie...Instead, my experience of watching that particular movie was ALL about his laughter. Hey guy...I didn't spend my hard-earned money just to listen to you laugh! Show some consideration for goodness sake...
All I am saying is...there are those who are simply not mindful of others (in public places)...and overdo it when it comes to things they find funny. What you say? You say some people can't help it? I agree...some people CAN'T help themselves....which is why they need to go LA (Laughaholic Anonymous)...a place where they can learn to control their laughter issues...and not harm anyone else.
Laughter, for me, is a privilege...not a right. One should get a license for it the same way they give licenses out for everything is. The process would be simple enough...If one would like to laugh in public...all you would have to do is go down to your local DLC (Department of Laughter Control) center and apply for a license to carry out laughter. There will be written as well as oral tests. If your laughter is deemed unsuitable for public consumption, you will be banned from laughing in any form of public space. Those caught laughing without a license will be fined $5,000 and thrown in jail for 3 weeks. Those who pass the test, can laugh as much as they want...anywhere they want...as long as its within the confines of the law.
__________________________
Last night, I was in heaven. In front of me sat the most delISHous pastry in the world...a fresh slice of ISHcake. Each bite, each crumb brought sheer joy to my taste buds. It was simply perfect...a flawless dessert that took hold of me as if to say..."I AM AWESOME...AND YOU KNOW IT." I did know it...I knew it well.
It all started innocently enough in July 2008. I arrived at the ISH/Quinn pad in Burbank to celebrate Quinn's birthday. My date for the evening was distracting me with her obnoxious charm and beguiling persona. Pizza was served as part of the celebration...and it was quite good. Baby ISH had made a cake for Quinn, and we all sang "Happy Birthday" as he blew out the candles. "Cake" I thought to myself..."no big deal." I've had plenty of cake in the past...nothing new here. We were soon rushing off to a restaurant nearby to continue the celebration. Not putting much thought into it, I grabbed a slice of ISHcake and starting eating...yet as soon as the taste registered in my mouth, I thought to myself..."WHAT the...WHERE did thISH cake come from?" It stopped me in my tracks. If my date was not there, and if I had more time...I would have gone back for more cake...much more. Even after I lefr the apartment...I was still thinking about ISHcake. I had known the ISH for 9 years, yet it wasn't until that evening that I realized the real reason why I had been friends with her all of these years...it was all about the ISHcake.
For my birthday in January 09, The ISH came through with an ISHcake made especially for me...once again, it was incredible. Even with different ingredients and style, it had still had that ISHcake magic....MAGIC, I tell ya!
I had wait 6 months for another ISHcake opportunity...Last July, ISH and Quinn through a housewarming/Quinn birthday party at their new pad in Glendale. I spent ten hours at the party....waiting in anticipation for the ISHcake's arrival. I even watched The ISH make the cake from scratch...She let me taste the frosting on the mixer... knew that thISH particular ISHcake was going to be spectacular! After waiting forever...the ISHcake finally arrived! Once the cake was served...I eat one slice, then another slice, then another slice...It was simply too good, and I far as I was concerned...ALL of that cake belonged in my belly. Yes, it was selfish...yet we're talking about ISHcake here folks...all bets were off. After the smoke cleared, I was later harshly reprimanded by The ISH for being such a pig...leaving nothing left for Quinn, or Senior...She was right...my ISHcake madness deprived others of the same joy I (literally) fed off on. True, I was wrong...yet it was all her fault. If The ISH made a so-so cake...there wouldn't be an issue. Instead, the ISH chose to make the bestest ISHcake ever...and I just couldn't help myself.
6 months later, the ISH was kind enough to indulge me once again with a glorious ISHcake for my birthday. Despite being severely ill with a bad back...I still managed to enjoy the glory that is ISHcake...a beautiful site to behold and eat...with chocolate frosting, and vanilla on the inside. What I did not finish, I brought home with me...and eat over 2 or 3 successive days. Every single time, my taste buds were in shock...even they could not believe how good the cake was.
This summer, things were different. The ISH and Quinn have chosen to lay low since their wedding in March. Unlike the part two years...there would no Quinn birthday party. His 34th birthday came and went on Monday. Was I worried? Yes. A summer without ISHcake is like having an L.A. Lakers victory rally without tipping over at least one car...it's just not the same. Yet to my good fortune, I got the call. Baby ISH and Quinn had saved ONE slice of thiSH summer's ISHcake just for me...She had made a cake for a private celebration of Quinn's birthday on Monday...and the leftovers were being eaten by the ISH and Quinn on a day-by-day basis. So it was very very nice of them to save a slice just for me.
Last night after work, I raced like the wind to Glendale and barged in to the ISH/Quinn pad to see my personal ISHcake slice...a double-layer white cake extravaganza with white frosting, a sliver of lemon, and sprinkles that just won't quit. It looked HUGE, yet unfortunately what I was looking at was not my slice...it was the last 1/4 of the ISHcake proper. My slice was much smaller...yet with plenty of ISHcake power. I stared at its texture, it's beauty. I sniffed it, as one would do with fine wine. It smelled like Paradise. As Quinn played AC/DC Rock Band in the background...I sat down at the dining table with the ISH...and slowly, and sloppily eat my ISHcake slice. After the first bite, I nearly collapsed...and ran out of the apartment. When I returned, I informed Baby ISH that I was not worthy of such a fine cake. It's quality was far beyond my simple existence...
Sometimes I took careful bites...other times I just stuffed it in my mouth. At one point, I missed my mouth entirely and dropped the ISHcake!! In some countries, you can be executed for such a crime. Fortunately, my plate caught the slice just in time. I told the ISH, I was no snob...I was equally in love with the part of the cake that had the frosting, as I was the part of the cake that had none. And just like that...it was gone. I searched the plate for crumbs...then later scoured the kitchen for leftover frosting. I just had to face the facts...it was over, at least for now. No more ISHcake for me until January...Baby ISH said she'd bake one sooner for $50 cash (plus the cost of ingredients)...yet who has that kind of money these days? Besides...I knew she was just teasing me...The going rate for ISHcake on the open market starts at $1,500.00. $50 would only get me a few crumbs and a kick in the pants...oh well.
We all had fun last night...ISH, Quinn and I...chatting, debating, playing Rock Band...I had more life in me than I've had for months. The reason: ISHcake...it's power knows no bounds. I told Baby ISH earlier that if I could have ISHcake every day for the rest of my life...all of my problems would be solved. It really is the answer to everything...If my life could ever be as good as ISHcake, I'd be a very, very happy man...
So What makes the ISHcake so special? It's very simple...It looks good, tastes great and is made with tender loving care by The ISH herself. Don't try this at home folks...several people have died trying to match the majesty of the ISHcake on their own. There was only one Shakespeare. There was only one Einstein. There is only one ISHcake...well, not just ONE, but...you get the idea.
There is woman I know....VERY attractive woman...gorgeous eyes, great figure, fun personality, and quite smart. Of course, she has a serious boyfriend...yet I used to really like talking with her. We used to chat all of the time...email, IM, etc...THEN...it happened. I heard her laugh...then I heard it again...and again. In short time, I became repulsed by her...sure, there were other things, yet the main reason I could not stand her was because I had to listen to her laugh. She actually has TWO kinds of laughs...The first, I like to call 'The Choke"...a laugh that sounds like combination of machine-gun rapid fire, and someone choking to death. Trust me, this laugh is quite unpleasant. Yet as bad as this first laugh is...it does not compare to the other kind of laugh she indulges in...something I like to call "The Hyena"... aka "The Sick Monkey." This particular laugh enters my skull, crawls through my brain, and comes out only to hit me over the head with a frying pan. Picture an orangutan at the zoo (or in the jungle) laughing in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible...and at the highest pitch possible. Now picture hearing that laugh for 20-30 minutes at a time...taunting you...mocking you. You understand now? It's just...intolerable, and stops me in my tracks each and every time. Eventually, I slowly stepped away from all contact with this woman. I HAD to...I couldn't talk with her anymore...for fear of hearing that awful laugh(s).
Sometimes at the movies, I want to kill the insanely-laughing person next to me...you know...the guy or gal who laughs at literally EVERYTHING. True, they may be on some form of controlled substance...yet still, there is such a thing as over-laughter...otherwise known as laughaholism. Laughaholics are almost as bad as their booze-laden counterparts...They over-indulge, and harm others in the process. Sometimes they will be so out of control with laughter that they enhance the experience by clapping their hands, slapping their knees, or stomping their feet. Please people...control yourselves! It's very disturbing. I once had to walk out of a movie years ago because the person near me was laughing too loud and hard for me to hear what was going on in the movie...Instead, my experience of watching that particular movie was ALL about his laughter. Hey guy...I didn't spend my hard-earned money just to listen to you laugh! Show some consideration for goodness sake...
All I am saying is...there are those who are simply not mindful of others (in public places)...and overdo it when it comes to things they find funny. What you say? You say some people can't help it? I agree...some people CAN'T help themselves....which is why they need to go LA (Laughaholic Anonymous)...a place where they can learn to control their laughter issues...and not harm anyone else.
Laughter, for me, is a privilege...not a right. One should get a license for it the same way they give licenses out for everything is. The process would be simple enough...If one would like to laugh in public...all you would have to do is go down to your local DLC (Department of Laughter Control) center and apply for a license to carry out laughter. There will be written as well as oral tests. If your laughter is deemed unsuitable for public consumption, you will be banned from laughing in any form of public space. Those caught laughing without a license will be fined $5,000 and thrown in jail for 3 weeks. Those who pass the test, can laugh as much as they want...anywhere they want...as long as its within the confines of the law.
__________________________
Thursday, July 22, 2010
ISHcake...an appreciation
Last night, I was in heaven. In front of me sat the most delISHous pastry in the world...a fresh slice of ISHcake. Each bite, each crumb brought sheer joy to my taste buds. It was simply perfect...a flawless dessert that took hold of me as if to say..."I AM AWESOME...AND YOU KNOW IT." I did know it...I knew it well.
It all started innocently enough in July 2008. I arrived at the ISH/Quinn pad in Burbank to celebrate Quinn's birthday. My date for the evening was distracting me with her obnoxious charm and beguiling persona. Pizza was served as part of the celebration...and it was quite good. Baby ISH had made a cake for Quinn, and we all sang "Happy Birthday" as he blew out the candles. "Cake" I thought to myself..."no big deal." I've had plenty of cake in the past...nothing new here. We were soon rushing off to a restaurant nearby to continue the celebration. Not putting much thought into it, I grabbed a slice of ISHcake and starting eating...yet as soon as the taste registered in my mouth, I thought to myself..."WHAT the...WHERE did thISH cake come from?" It stopped me in my tracks. If my date was not there, and if I had more time...I would have gone back for more cake...much more. Even after I lefr the apartment...I was still thinking about ISHcake. I had known the ISH for 9 years, yet it wasn't until that evening that I realized the real reason why I had been friends with her all of these years...it was all about the ISHcake.
For my birthday in January 09, The ISH came through with an ISHcake made especially for me...once again, it was incredible. Even with different ingredients and style, it had still had that ISHcake magic....MAGIC, I tell ya!
I had wait 6 months for another ISHcake opportunity...Last July, ISH and Quinn through a housewarming/Quinn birthday party at their new pad in Glendale. I spent ten hours at the party....waiting in anticipation for the ISHcake's arrival. I even watched The ISH make the cake from scratch...She let me taste the frosting on the mixer... knew that thISH particular ISHcake was going to be spectacular! After waiting forever...the ISHcake finally arrived! Once the cake was served...I eat one slice, then another slice, then another slice...It was simply too good, and I far as I was concerned...ALL of that cake belonged in my belly. Yes, it was selfish...yet we're talking about ISHcake here folks...all bets were off. After the smoke cleared, I was later harshly reprimanded by The ISH for being such a pig...leaving nothing left for Quinn, or Senior...She was right...my ISHcake madness deprived others of the same joy I (literally) fed off on. True, I was wrong...yet it was all her fault. If The ISH made a so-so cake...there wouldn't be an issue. Instead, the ISH chose to make the bestest ISHcake ever...and I just couldn't help myself.
6 months later, the ISH was kind enough to indulge me once again with a glorious ISHcake for my birthday. Despite being severely ill with a bad back...I still managed to enjoy the glory that is ISHcake...a beautiful site to behold and eat...with chocolate frosting, and vanilla on the inside. What I did not finish, I brought home with me...and eat over 2 or 3 successive days. Every single time, my taste buds were in shock...even they could not believe how good the cake was.
This summer, things were different. The ISH and Quinn have chosen to lay low since their wedding in March. Unlike the part two years...there would no Quinn birthday party. His 34th birthday came and went on Monday. Was I worried? Yes. A summer without ISHcake is like having an L.A. Lakers victory rally without tipping over at least one car...it's just not the same. Yet to my good fortune, I got the call. Baby ISH and Quinn had saved ONE slice of thiSH summer's ISHcake just for me...She had made a cake for a private celebration of Quinn's birthday on Monday...and the leftovers were being eaten by the ISH and Quinn on a day-by-day basis. So it was very very nice of them to save a slice just for me.
Last night after work, I raced like the wind to Glendale and barged in to the ISH/Quinn pad to see my personal ISHcake slice...a double-layer white cake extravaganza with white frosting, a sliver of lemon, and sprinkles that just won't quit. It looked HUGE, yet unfortunately what I was looking at was not my slice...it was the last 1/4 of the ISHcake proper. My slice was much smaller...yet with plenty of ISHcake power. I stared at its texture, it's beauty. I sniffed it, as one would do with fine wine. It smelled like Paradise. As Quinn played AC/DC Rock Band in the background...I sat down at the dining table with the ISH...and slowly, and sloppily eat my ISHcake slice. After the first bite, I nearly collapsed...and ran out of the apartment. When I returned, I informed Baby ISH that I was not worthy of such a fine cake. It's quality was far beyond my simple existence...
Sometimes I took careful bites...other times I just stuffed it in my mouth. At one point, I missed my mouth entirely and dropped the ISHcake!! In some countries, you can be executed for such a crime. Fortunately, my plate caught the slice just in time. I told the ISH, I was no snob...I was equally in love with the part of the cake that had the frosting, as I was the part of the cake that had none. And just like that...it was gone. I searched the plate for crumbs...then later scoured the kitchen for leftover frosting. I just had to face the facts...it was over, at least for now. No more ISHcake for me until January...Baby ISH said she'd bake one sooner for $50 cash (plus the cost of ingredients)...yet who has that kind of money these days? Besides...I knew she was just teasing me...The going rate for ISHcake on the open market starts at $1,500.00. $50 would only get me a few crumbs and a kick in the pants...oh well.
We all had fun last night...ISH, Quinn and I...chatting, debating, playing Rock Band...I had more life in me than I've had for months. The reason: ISHcake...it's power knows no bounds. I told Baby ISH earlier that if I could have ISHcake every day for the rest of my life...all of my problems would be solved. It really is the answer to everything...If my life could ever be as good as ISHcake, I'd be a very, very happy man...
So What makes the ISHcake so special? It's very simple...It looks good, tastes great and is made with tender loving care by The ISH herself. Don't try this at home folks...several people have died trying to match the majesty of the ISHcake on their own. There was only one Shakespeare. There was only one Einstein. There is only one ISHcake...well, not just ONE, but...you get the idea.
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