Saturday Morning Is For Soul Train
April 10, 2010
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Isleys! You’d think they’d have earned enough money by then to afford shirts.
Italian Negotiating
April 9, 2010
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-Excuse me, sir.
-Not now, kid; I’m busy.
-Please, sir. Won’t take but a minute.
-Time is wastin’ junior; whaddya want?
-I want to join your carnival, sir.
-Souls in hell want icewater, kid.
-I can do something spectacular.
-You look like the short end of nothing, sharpened, kid. I need to attract the eyeballs.
-I can do a stunt.
-What could you possibly do?
-I could dive off a thirty foot ladder into my mother’s washtub half full of water.
-Kid, if you could do that, I’d pay you a hundred a week.
-Just watch me…
-Kid, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. That was fantastic. I’m a man of my word. A hundred a week it is.
-Nope.
-A hundred and fifty.
-Nope.
-One seventy-five.
-Nope.
-Look kid, you’re backsliding on me. What’s the idea of holding me up for more money when we had a deal fair and square from the get-go?
-Oh, no sir; it’s not that. It’s just that I never tried it before, and I didn’t really like it.
Don’t Buy It!
April 7, 2010
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The Duke of Yuk got a ukulele for his birthday. He decided he was tired of just singing Beatles songs, and decided to write his own. Hey, how hard can it be? This one has the the urgency of a four-alarm fire, the insistent beat of the poorly-plumbed faucet, and explores the themes of worry, loss, and redemption. Lou Reed wishes he was this good, I’m telling you.
Don’t miss the letter grade at the end. And don’t buy it.
Keeping Your Toenails Still While You Pound on Them Is Harder Than It looks
April 6, 2010
5 Comments
I shed a tear when I watched this. Talking openly of providing work of a rough nature for the local carpenter — dead as Croesus.
Break It Down Baby Now
April 5, 2010
9 Comments
I’m not sure I can explain the appeal, exactly. It’s manifestly appealing, of course, but it’s the explainin’ that’s hard. Why do these rude little nonsense adult nursery rhymes have the allure they do?
That’s Junior Walker and the All-Stars. When all of my friends were listening to Aerosmith records, I was listening to Junior Walker.
I learned to play bass guitar from my older brother. It took two hours. I’ve forgotten some of what he taught me during that two hours. It’s still enough. He explained the difference between James Brown and the Beatles: The Beatles are a chord, James Brown is a scale. A minor pentatonic scale, generally, if you’re interested. The Beatles are a piano. James Brown is a drumset. Ten days later I was playing for money in a nightclub. Shotgun. Junior Walker is a scale, too.
A magnificent, rhythmic, hypnotic, urgent, swinging, insistent, soul-shaking, hypersexual, sensuous, clanging scale. The go-go dancers are fine by me, too.
His real name is Autry De Walt Junior. Heh.
Month: April 2010
sippicancottage
A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything.
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