I'm plum in love with cable network Logo's new comedy series Sordid Lives, which premiered last week. Logo, from the Viacom/MTV family of networks, specializes in gay-friendly programming. In their own words:
Logo is entertainment programming for lesbians and gays and just about anyone who enjoys a gay point of view. Logo is for us, our friends and our family.
Logo is also for anyone who's looking for the consistently interesting and always well-acted series Queer as Folks and The L Word now that they're off Showtime (a Logo sister network.) Unfortunately both shows are edited for content now, but what do you want from basic cable anyway? (Well, perhaps a bit more than just an edited version, considering what FX gets away with on their original series.) However, if you want the full monty at least you can get hold of the DVDs.
The series Sordid Lives is a prequel to the 1999 movie of the same name, which itself was an adaptation of a popular stage play. The world of Sordid Lives was created by Del Shores, a talented writer/director/producer who's been turning out successful, hilarious and often meaningful comedies for over twenty years, in addition to writing for lots of episodic TV . His own works are informed by his experience as a late-blooming gay man, which makes Logo possibly the perfect venue for this latest incarnation of the over-the-top antics of Sordid Lives. As with all great art, however, the sheer excellence of the material transcends all boundaries. Sordid Lives is a series that will please all sorts of people on every kind of level.
SL's basic story resolves around a small town family in Texas, a wild bunch of colorful characters whose excesses and eccentricities are many and varied. I won't even attempt to summarize the plotline; Logo has an excellent and quite detailed overview to get you started caring about the folks on Sordid Lives, and I believe that you will care after you've watched even a few minutes of the show. In addition to Del Shores' snappy and snippy dialogue, the chief charms of SL are the performances of the marvelous cast, many of whom are reprising their roles from the movie. The talented comedy veteran Rue McClanahan is new to the SL world in the role of the clan matriarch Peggy, with familiar face Beth Grant (Donny Darko, Little Miss Sunshine) as her sister. Peggy has two grown daughters, one a little wild (played by Ann Walker) and one straight-laced (played by Bonnie Bedelia -- do you remember when she married Little Joe on Bonanza?), and a son who has spent the last twenty years in a mental institution mainly because he goes around in Tammy Wynette drag, and where he is currently under treatment from a vainglorious and deluded therapist bound to dehomosexualize him.
And so it goes. Alongside McClanahan, Grant and Bedelia, comic actress Caroline Rhea is terrific as the sexually unsatisfied Noleta, whose husband has two wooden legs and the hots for other women. Actor Leslie Jordan, Emmy-winner for his recurring role on Will and Grace, is absolutely amazing as Brother Boy, the locked-away son. He's hilarious, of course, in sequined drag outfits as he milks the broad comedy with everything he's got, but Jordan's also incredibly touching in the role and takes Brother Boy to a level where a lesser actor couldn't go. There's tremendous heart in his portrayal, and overall there's a huge well of compassion and genuine human emotion in this show. In this respect it reminds me a great deal of the Canadian hit Trailer Park Boys which also manages to find truth, beauty and authentic modern family values in the midst of slapstick and non-stop profanity. Sordid Lives has a core of warmth and affection that is obviously not accidental and is completely winning.
There's also a plotline involving Peggy's grandson Ty (the appealing Jason Dottley) who is an ex-soap opera actor in Hollywood struggling with the decision to come out. This allows for some show biz lampooning and some prominent guest stars -- Margaret Cho, Carson Kressley -- and if right now Ty's life doesn't seem to have quite the pizazz as his Texas brethen's, it's still mighty enjoyable. Even the insanity of Hollywood life can barely hope to compete with a cast of veterans going all out in well-written flamboyant farce. I don't mean to forget Olivia Newton-John as a just-released-from-prison bar singer befriended by Peggy. N-J is a good sport and her wonderful voice is a treat.
The first two episodes are a two-parter, and it looks like current and future episodes will be played many times to allow for new viewers to join in. My recommendation for now would be to tune in this Saturday night at 9pm for "The Day Tammy Wynette Died - Part 1" and stay for Part 2 immediately following at 9:30pm. I predict you'll be completely up-to-speed and hooked on Sordid Livesafter the hour. Visit the Sordid Liveswebsite on Logo for entertaining character profiles and other background material, though unfortunately no full episodes available for viewing. (That seems like a mistake; clips just won't cut it these days. Better we get our episode fix from Logo's website than finding it elsewhere...and we will find it elsewhere.) I also suggest reading this terrific post from HuffingtonPost.com written by Del Shores about the show and his life and how they are related, and you will also want to check out his website here.
Now I've got TWO shows I can't wait to see each week: AMC's Mad Men and now Logo's Sordid Lives. Summer TV rocks!
After reading Judith’s amazingly well-written and impassioned July 23rd plea to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame to reconsider some of their long-held artistic and political stances, I felt the need as a lifelong student of the Billboard charts (and beyond) to comment on her article. But I didn’t want my reply to get lost on the comments page because I have similarly rich and strongly-stated opinions on this matter. Also I did some research regarding Judith’s complaints that I think comprise a valuable addendum to her fine and necessary editorial. So I’m posting my reply as a separate story rather than simply as a comment.
It seems that Judith (whom I’ve never met) and I are of the same age group, given her vivid recollections of the year 1976. I share like-minded memories of a great time to be a child, particularly a child (like me) aware of culture, politics, sociology, history, art, film, and music. So I also begin my piece by recalling my memories of that time in my life, in our country’s Bicentennial year, and how the craft of music continued to shape my worldview during three of those 12 glorious months. So I'm now starting to magically smell and taste Shasta, Razzles, Icees, Cherry Charms pops, Funyuns, Funny Faces, Zotz, Marathon bars, and that Gold Rush Golden Nuggets chewing gum that used to come in a little prospector's bag. Like, I totally remember this creepy, funny Shasta commercial starring Frankenstein (here deemed "Igor," probably because of Universal Pictures' meddling), John Fiedler (Winnie the Pooh's Piglet, 12 Angry Men, Bob Newhart) and Happy Days dad Tom Bosley on voice-over!!!!
In the summer of 1976, the season from which my most vivid recollections of Bicentennial life and music derive, I was nine years old, set to hit the big ten in late October. At that time, my mother was working in personnel at a government agency and my father, a former Atlanta cop, was working for his father at a construction business the Treadway family owned. Being the grandson of a genius lawyer—my mother’s father—I had grown up listening to the volumes and volumes of classical music to which my grandfather, Mr. Pops (as I called him), was determined to expose me. This was a project of his that had begun probably as soon as I could talk. Beethoven was his chief love, then Mozart, Bach, and the hundreds of other great classical composers that lay well-played in his musty-smelling cabinet of ancient and new LPs.
I think at first a shock of fear would shoot up my spine when Mr. Pops would command me to sit down quietly and listen to the unparalleled sounds of the world’s great composers. But I know that shock disappeared when I discovered I loved this music. It was so totally new in its oldness that I was captivated. Still, I’m sure it would have irritated Mr. Pops to know that, when he he would leave his family’s post-war-designed Atlanta home on Franklin Circle, I would not often on my own continue to seek solace in the strength of Wagner, the gentleness of Vivaldi, or the energy of Liszt.
Instead, I switched on pop radio. I had not yet started my own record collection—that would happen three years later when, after a windfall of cash came my way, I bought my first albums: The Beatles 1962-1966 (the blue greatest hits double album, printed on blue vinyl), The Beatles 1967-1970 (the red greatest hits double album, printed on red vinyl), and The Beatles (the famous White Album—yes—printed on white vinyl). Before that, though, I was lucky enough to have young parents who were, themselves, rock and pop fans. My mother, in particular, had (and still has) two 3’x 5’ sturdy wooden boxes that, at first glance, appear to be simple window seats, topped with black vinyl-covered padding on which to sit. A closer look would reveal a push button that would release the seat tops and open the wooden boxes to reveal the often still shrink-wrapped albums inside, often with yellow $1.98 K-Mart stickers still affixed to the plastic. Some were purchased in her teens, some newly acquired. Among them: Chicago Transit Authority (the 6-album Carnegie Hall box set), Harper’s Bizarre, Herman’s Hermits, Black Sabbath, Iron Butterfly, The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Bob Seger System (“Ramblin’, Gamblin’ Man”), The Guess Who, Elton John, Cat Stevens, Paul McCartney and Wings, The Swingin’ Medallions (“Double Shot of My Baby’s Love”), Tom Jones, Bee Gees, Electric Light Orchestra, The Monkees, Percy Faith, Kenny Rogers and the First Edition (“Just Dropped In To See What Condition My Condition Is In”), The Rolling Stones, Martha and The Vandellas, The Shirelles, The Box Tops, Paul Revere and The Raiders (“Kicks”), The Eagles, Deep Purple, Jimi Hendrix, and a whole lotta classical music. When at home, to sing along with, I would most often pull out McCartney’s Band on the Run, Simon and Garfunkel’s Wednesday Morning 3 A.M., Cat Stevens’ Greatest Hits, CCR’s Green River, ELO’s Face The Music, Rolling Stone’s December’s Child, a 1972 Easy Listening compilation with the Mamas and the Papas, O.C. Smith, and Otis Redding on it, and Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.
But, in the summer of 1976, I spent most of my days at my grandmother’s house—Chick-Chick, we called her. Or Mom. I called my mom “Lynn” and my grandma “Mom.” Go figure. Even as a kid I did things my way.
At Mom’s house, I spent my days stationed beside the big radio in the family room. When I could HEAR the radio, that is. My 14-year old Uncle Jeff has just taken up the drums so they ruled the aural environment at the house, which I'm sure accounted for a certain rivalry between my uncle (who was more like an older brother) and I. The dreaded drums were located downstairs, in the extra-cool basement with the fancy bar and the comfy beds, and the pinball machine that had long ago stopped working. There, in the corner was a twelve-piece trap kit that Jeff played pretty well. Compared to my musical tastes, his seemed largely Southern-flavored—Neil Young, The Allman Brothers, The Shorty Watkins Band, Little Feat, ZZ Top, Bad Company, Moody Blues, and The Atlanta Rhythm Section were the live acts Jeff would venture out to go see in the summer of 1976. And I would sit downstairs marveling at the Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd albums he loved to play along with (“Several Species of Small Furry Animals in a Cave Grooving Together With A Pict” was the Pink Floyd cut I laughed most derisively at). Jeff was hipper than me, though, and I loved him for it. My Aunt Jerry, then married or at least about to be, was pretty with-it, too---that summer, she went to see Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, Seals and Crofts, Fleetwood Mac, Chicago (at Georgia Tech), ELO, Neil Diamond, and the Average White Band.
Upstairs, when the drums were off, the radio was on. I would listen mostly to top 40 stations like Quixie (WQXI, somewhere around 94 on the dial). Then there was Z-93 and 96 Rock as well. But my young ears liked Quixie. Back then, top 40 radio was in the baby stages of getting as repetitive as it is now. But still there was a lot of diversity. You could hear “Convoy” by C.W. McCall, “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Barry White, “Everything is Beautiful” by Ray Stevens, “Right Back Where We Started From” by Maxine Nightingale, “Shaft” by Isaac Hayes, “Claire” by Gilbert O’ Sullivan, and “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love” by Bad Company all in the same hour. On Sundays, I'd listen for hours to Casey Kasem's "America's Top 40" (all the way up to number one, unless a mall outing screwed things up). And at night: The King Biscuit Flour Hour, the trippy-sounding live concert show where you could hear Boston playing THAT album or The Grateful Dead playing THAT one. And finally, the creme de la creme: Dr. Demento at 9 pm on 96 Rock. God bless 'em, they hadda sense of humor back then, too. "Shaving Cream," "Star Drek," "Dead Puppies," "Pencil-Neck Geeks," "Fish Heads," "My Bologna," "Hello Mudda Hello Fadda," "Telephone Man," "Mr. Jaws," "They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha Haaaaaa!" (still the scariest top 5 record in chart history), "The Cockroach That Ate Cincinatti," "The Spam Song," "Dead Skunk," and "The Hawaiian War Chant" are the songs I remember hearing on this amazing program the most. Those days are over, lemme tell ya.
There were five, count ‘em, five Number One singles in the summer of ’76, from May 15 to September 1st: “Boogie Fever” by the family R&B band The Sylvers (who did some pretty cool songs the Jacksons never did, like the ultra-amazing “Misdemeanor”); “Silly Love Songs” by Wings (McCartney’s disco-influenced heavy bass obviously made everyone smile, because it stayed on top for 5 weeks); the somewhat frightening “Love Hangover” by Diana Ross (I always used to think “That can’t be Diana Ross” when she started singing “I don’t need no cure, I don’t need no cure”—I am still not sure that’s her); “Afternoon Delight” by the Starland Vocal Band (a smash of a one-hit-wonder, who landed a bunch of Grammies at year’s end, and who made me go into a radio-station-dialing frenzy when I first heard their 45rpm confection; I immediately hadda hear it again); “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart” by Elton John and Kiki Dee (a rare single-only release from Elton, who was my boyhood idol and who wasn’t known for doing many duets then; this song was the most memorable release of 1976 for me. I remember listening to it over and over again, when my Uncle Jeff, who hated the record, came up to me and revealed to me that Elton was gay. I was young so I had to ask what that meant. I was shocked when I found out, but I couldn’t abandoned Elton because of that, so I shrugged, and I’m sure my Uncle Jeff walked away worried about me. "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart" would even provide me with my first glipse at a "video." Seriously, this is the first "video" I remember seeing (the second was 1979's Blondie hit "Heart of Glass"):
On TV, I chiefly remember watching Sonny and Cher, Barney Miller, The Captain and Tennille, All in the Family, Bob Newhart, Shields and Yarnell, The Hot L Baltimore, M.A.S.H., Pink Panther, Bugs Bunny, Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Schoolhouse Rock, Soupy Sales, Fat Albert, Carol Burnett, Sesame Street, The Electric Company, and Bicentennial Minutes (my God, Bicentennial Minutes---why don’t they release those on DVD!!!! Here’s the only one I could find, with Jessica Tandy)
At the movies: The Outlaw Josey Wales (Eastwood taking the lead from John Wayne), The Shootist (John Wayne’s last movie), Survive (the airplane-crash-in-the-Andes-with-cannibalism movie, on a double bill with Roeg’s horror film Don’t Look Now), Taxi Driver (on a rare foray into four-walled theaters, during which I fell asleep), The Bad News Bears (like a documentary of my little league days on the losingest team in league, the unfortunately yellow-suited--like the Bears--Orioles), Logan’s Run (exciting!!!), Gus (goofball Disney movie about a football-playing donkey), Shoot (stunning anti-gun drama with Cliff Robertson), Family Plot (Hitchcock’s finale), All The President’s Men, Tommy (probably for the 20th time), The Gumball Rally, Silent Movie (an intro to bawdiness for me), Ode to Billie Joe, Cannonball double-billed with Death Race 2000, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (still playing after its Oscar-winning late 1975 release). Here's the amazing, strangely-Disneyfied 1976 Bad News Bears trailer!!!! All childhood summers are sublime, but the summer of 1976 was more than that for me--so much so, I can’t detect a word hot enough to describe it. For the 200th Fourth of July alone, it was stratospheric. Add the music, movies, TV shows, radio and friendships, and we're now beyond the limits of the known universe in quality-summer talk. Okay. So enuff of the memories. Thanks for them, but we move on to the deeper issue at hand, namely…
What is it with this Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
Judith’s July 23rd post tackling this issue got me to thinking. In that piece, she implored the RRHOF to consider honoring Neil Diamond, Chicago, The Doobie Brothers, Heart, Linda Ronstadt, Pat Benatar, Connie Francis, Cat Stevens, Cheap Trick, Alice Cooper, Hall & Oates, Peter Gabriel/Genesis/Phil Collins, Steve Winwood, the Monkees and Donna Summer.
Let’s get the no-brainers out of the way: The Monkees, Neil Diamond, Cat Stevens, Heart, Linda Ronstadt, Alice Cooper, Genesis, and Donna Summer all deserve immediate recognition. No arguments, just get on with it. I know one of these acts per year for the next ten years should be included. Again, screw the arguing…
The only person in Judith's original grouping I’m perhaps not familiar enough with is Connie Francis. She may make it in that Brenda Lee sort of way, but honestly, the hits of hers I know are good, but not that good. Sorry, Judith’s sister. May hafta wait a while (though maybe not that long…she did rank an impressive 6 #1 hits). Cheap Trick, Hall and Oates and Peter Gabriel may have to wait a bit longer, too. But they’ll get in, eventually, you can bet on it.
You see, being admitted into the RRHOF is largely a numbers game. You have five yearly slots, not including the specialty slots like Sidemen and Early Influences. With those five placements (which can be expanded to six or seven), if you look at the acts who have been admitted over the past few years, it seems as if the RRHOF have come up with a formula: A couple of 80s acts, one or two 70s acts (including one that had no real hits), and a 60s/50s act. One female is usually in there, as a solo or group inclusion; one or two black groups are in there; punk and post-punk is usually among the groups now; one hit-maker, if not three, is in the mix, and hip-hop is starting to claim its ground.
So one can reduce this sort of thing down to a silly math notion. But you should know something, Judith. I’ve done some research on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame--primarily by calling my Beatlemaniac friend and all-around music expert Brad Hundt, and by reading the comments of Beatlefan publisher Bill King (billking.livejournal.com)--and have since found out something quite shocking. You know how the Hall supposedly has these 1000 people voting on each year’s entries? Well, this might be the case, but did you know two people have the right to overturn any results they can’t stomach. Those two people? Their photos are looming above this paragraph: Jann Wenner, longtime publisher of Rolling Stone magazine, and snooty/brilliant rock critic Dave Marsh (Springsteen biographer and writer of two of my favorite music books: The Heart of Rock n’ Soul: The 1001 Greatest Singles of All Time and The Book of Rock Lists).
The only mention I can find of Chicago, for instance, in Marsh’s Rock Lists book is in the “Worst of All Time” categories: most chiefly, the “40 Worst #1 Albums,” in which Chicago V, Chicago VI, Chicago VII, and Chicago VIII (as well as Blood Sweat and Tears AND Linda Rondstadt’s Living in the USA) all make appearances. Short answer: Chicago will never make the RRHOF unless there’s a jazz-inspired riot of some sort. And I love Chicago. First concert my parents too me to, before the death of Terry Kath. Loud, boisterous and fun, it was. I can still sing, by memory, “Saturday in the Park” and “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is” EXACTLY like the lead singer (I once did it for best friend/music addict Brian Matson and he blanched at how dead-on my imitation was). It’s wrong to leave Chicago out of the mix, no matter how much you despise them, Dave Marsh.
And who gave you and Jann the right to come waltzing in to overturn any democratically-arrived-at results, you insolent, outdated MFs? That’s cocky bullshit, if you ask me. That’s like having Academy Awards president Sid Ganis come in on a whim and say “Oh, God, not No Country For Old Men. Please!! How about American Gangster instead?” If news of this sort of thing came out regarding the Oscars, they’d be absolute hell to pay. And even if he does have a distaste for Linda Ronstadt (Which he must, given she's not in the RRHOF yet), why would've Jann Wenner placed her on the cover of Rolling Stone seven times? That doesn't make a whit of sense! She should be in the RRHOF tomorrow!!!!
As for Pat Benatar and solo Steve Winwood, they hit the airwaves around 1980 or so. That would mean that, given the 25-year wait before induction, they would have started being eligible in 2005. Often, if you notice, acts like The Mamas and the Papas have to wait ten years into their eligibility before their induction. So look for Benatar and Winwood around 2015. Again, this is a numbers game.
Judith had some wounding comments about the induction of many of acts that she found lacking. Her article encouraged the reader to look at the induction list. So I did. And, surprisingly, I agreed with almost everyone on the list, I have to say. The only ones I could see leaving off the 22 lists delivered since 1986 are Jackson Browne, the Righteous Brothers, Solomon Burke, Bonnie Raitt, The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Young Rascals, and Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers. And I would leave these guys off only because I have other inductees I’d have included. These acts are still landmarks of the business. I close with my choices for the 30 acts that I THINK should be inducted into the RRHOF, now or when eligible: KISS (I hear Jann and Dave hate them, too; they're not my faves, but are indeniably the cause of an entire generation of young boys getting into rock n' roll), T-Rex, The Minutemen, Chicago, Electric Light Orchestra, The Monkees, Neil Diamond, Ringo Starr (maybe as a sideman), Wire, XTC, Burt Bacharach, Barry White, Run DMC, Public Enemy (I’m sure they make it on in a year or two), Frank Sinatra, and Tony Bennett (as early influences), Linda Rondstadt, Edgar Winter, The Carpenters, The Cars, Black Flag, Jim Croce, Cat Stevens, George Jones (I think there’s plenty of early blues repped; now how’s about some more early country), Leslie Gore, Joe Meek (as a producer), The Fleetwoods, Conway Twitty, The B-52s and...what the hell? Dr. Demento (or dj Barry Hansen, if you prefer).
Now I gotta listen to some records and look through my collection of these!!
Just a few notes to add to Lisa's post about the season two premier of Mad Men. It did move at a very leisurely pace, although the office venue is still hopping. Best moments; figuring out where to put that new fangled Xerox machine (and ultimately, it didn't take them long to start copying body parts), the old black and white TV footage of Jackie Kennedy giving a tour of the White House in the background on very vintage televisions (kudos to the MM set designers) and Don Draper mentoring Peggy the junior copywriter on the most compelling way to position the new airline account. It's not sex that sells...it's emotion. "What did you bring me, Daddy?" Don Draper and Peggy Olsen are the most intriguing characters, and this first episode leaves us wanting much more of them both. I also liked Don Draper's final voice over, which was prose in the shadow of Robert Frost...cold, precise, and very New England. Most of the Mad Men long to be published writers, but Don Draper may have the most accomplished way with words of them all.
I did an intensive on AMC's Mad Men in anticipation of last evening's 2nd season opener. I watched all 13 of the first season episodes on Saturday and Sunday, finishing the last one about ten minutes before the new season started. For those of you who are already hooked on the series, you understand completely -- the show is terrific. For those of you who haven't fallen for it yet, dig right in -- you can find the earlier eps online (let us know if you can't find them) -- and catch up. Don't wait any longer.
For the uninitiated, I can see where last night's episode might seem a tad underwhelming -- this show is definitely cool, in all ways -- but much is afoot. Don has some male performance issues, his wife is getting frisky -- from all that horseback riding -- and flirty -- with that mechanic -- and the gals in the office just met Mr. Xerox machine. And Peggy, the young female copywriter (played so well by Elisabeth Moss) who had a mysterious -- to her, even -- pregnancy and delivered a baby in the season finale, seems to have ditched the kid and slimmed down. I guess we all know that the duplicitous and creepy nearly androgynous-looking Pete Campbell has to be the father, but he's balking at getting his own wife pregnant at home. Definitely much afoot there! You'll find a thorough synopsis of the episode on AMC's Mad Menwebsite here, and also synopses of all previous seasons episodes plus an overall Season One review. Good stuff!
Here's a peek at last night's episode, with commentary from Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner:
What did you think of the 2nd season premiere episode "For Those Who Think Young"?
On July 1, 2008 I posted an article on the impact Animal Planet's Animal Cop shows had on my life. I am pleased to say that the outcome of one of those shows has now happened in the real world of one of the largest animal shelters in the nation. Actually, good outcomes happen every day in shelters all across the country, but I took this outcome a bit too personally.
Jimmy the Dog was adopted on Thursday. He was neutered Friday morning and was picked up to go to his new home after the surgery. I was at the shelter yesterday afternoon and I scrambled out of there an hour into my stay due to my tears of joy and a few tears of sadness. I am thrilled he will have a happy, healthy and safe home, but I didn't get to say goodbye to my buddy.
I met the woman who adopted him and she was a seemingly wonderful woman who had adopted a lovely female German Shepherd six weeks ago. Jimmy met her dog and the dog intro went well. I saw Jimmy for the last time (although, I didn't know it would be the last time) on Tuesday evening as we went for what would become our last walk together. He escaped out of his cage on Tuesday night prior to my departure and I chased him around the shelter. The thought of it had me laughing. He wanted his freedom! I had named him Jimmy (after my dad and kid brother) and I think his new owner liked his name, so hopefully he will spend the rest of his life as Jimmy. Jimmy has a terrific personality and a sweet spirit.
I mentioned in the original post that I had prayed for Jimmy to get a good home, so I have to be thankful my prayer was answered. I am thrilled that the system did indeed work. My only sadness is that I will never see Jimmy again. He recognized my voice. When he would hear it he'd come to the side of the cage before he could even see me. He knew I'd walk him and let him graze in the grass. He always had that look on his face that said "hey, let me lay here a bit longer." I'd give him his bacon strip and his big dog bone. I petted his neck (he loved it there). I made up his bed after I walked him.
When I saw his empty cage yesterday (the note I had written about how great he was and the shelter's note on his history were gone) the only things that remained were the now empty water bowl and the bed I made up for him when I left on Tuesday. There it was - the purple pillow upon a blue sheet and a soft cream towel.
I was told that his new home has a big fenced-in yard. I hear the house is big too! Hopefully, he will have a big and comfy bed as well. Jimmy had been in a cage 24/7 (outside of a walk or two a day, if he got lucky) for almost six months. He now deserves a great life!
I will miss him, but I hope he never misses me.
The animal shelter deserves lots of kudos. Their volunteer coordinating staff is wonderful and caring. The guy who originally trained me (Joe) deeply cares about the animals at the shelter. They did a house check to make sure that Jimmy would indeed have a yard to run off his energy in.
Thanks again to Animal Planet for providing me with an outlet to serve in some way. Without Animal Cops, Animal Precinct and the network's heroes I would never have gotten involved with volunteering at an animal shelter and would never have met Jimmy. My life is better having served him. Buddy, I enjoyed our time together. May you live a long, healthy, happy, safe and secure life. May the food be good, may the walks be fun, may the grass in summer be green and pleasant and may the house be warm in the winter, may your life be wonderful!
This was the note I had posted on his cage for potential adopters to see:
Hello there, My name is Jimmy and I'm a sweet boy who loves to lie in the grass and have my neck petted. I also love a cozy bed. I've been here awhile, so I need a real home. Love Jimmy
He has now been adopted and I will be a bit sad for awhile, but the sadness will leave every time I visualize my boy laying comfortably on his big, soft bed in that big house with that big yard. Who knows, maybe I will see him again one day.
Fans of the fantastic series The X-Files (1993 - 2002) will be lining up -- we hope -- to see the second big screen adventure of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. The X-Files: I Want to Believe opens wide tomorrow and looks to be great. Here's the latest trailer:
Fortunately, one's ability to appreciate great music (whatever genre) seemingly never dies. Studies show people with the most debilitating forms of dementia can comprehend the music of their youth with tremendous affection. I grew up loving music, particularly rock and pop/rock music; and it became my life's soundtrack as I'm sure many of you would acknowledge that a certain piece of music history is your life's soundtrack. There are some moments in my life (present life) where I can still feel certain times in my life (past life) as though I were living those moments as if in the present. I have several memorable music moments (the summer of 1970 and the spring of 1981 are high points). My most memorable musical past life was the summer of 1976. The visual of the summer of '76 moment usually has me driving in my car with the windows rolled all the way down. In the summer of '76 that vehicle was a dumpy silver Chevy Vega (my parents refused to buy me a new car - they wanted me to know what it was like to struggle, so they bought me an oil guzzling Vega - having said this I love my parents more than any other two people in my life)with a big black racing stripe canvased across the hood. Fortunately, my current car is a bit above my oil guzzling (not gas guzzling, but oil guzzling Vega - I had to put oil in the car every other day) Chevy model. Not that there is anything wrong with Chevrolet vehicles, but their experimental Vega didn't succeed. For some reason it is in this moment where summer is always remembered as though life never passes. The background of that time offers up a non-stop whistling of fireworks celebrating the Bicentennial of the United States of America. The skies were forever alight in shades of red, white and blue during that memorable historic period (the country's and mine). Sparklers were so present that they were a required accessory during that summer's experience. They were as much a part of that particular summer as ice cream cones, picnics and rides to the Adler Planetarium (to watch the rats hovering below the sewer surface (don't ask for an explanation - we were fascinated, I guess). During these moments I hear the strains of John Philip Sousa's "Stars & Stripes Forever" and of course the equally powerful "The Washington Post." I also hear Boston's "More Than A Feeling," Paul McCartney's "Silly Love Songs" and Peter Frampton coming alive. What a glorious time to be alive!
The other day I had a long drive up the Michigan coast and I had my XM Radio on. Love XM radio! I could write a dissertation on the many joys of having XM radio. I caught the Who's "BabaO'Riley" in its entirety. I also caught parts of the VH1 Rock Honors TV special honoring the mighty Who that aired last week. Music TV is everywhere in the summer if you look for it. PBS has been running the Soundstage performance of Stevie Nicks' 2007 tour which I saw while in Las Vegas last year. I bounced back and forth between the two specials, but I preferred the performance of the still vibrant queen of rock and roll. I'd rather watch Stevie sing her songs than watch younger bands saluting the Who. Keep Pete and Roger on longer.
The Who remains a shining, gleaming, I can't see straight example of rock and roll at its purest and finest. Pete Townsend wrote anthems of genuine rebellion and Roger Daltrey gave vocal interpretations to those uniquely crafted and arranged songs. If you ever question and who would ever question their contributions to the genre of rock and roll pick up a copy of The Who Live at Leeds. If you listen to only one song by the Who in your entire life listen to the live version of "The Magic Bus." I cannot even begin to muster up the courage to analyze this breathtaking and magnificent piece of teen aged frustration. "How much? Too much." They were the definitive rebel band with a message. They make the Clash seem tame in their political and social attitudes. Message music that doesn't hit you over the head is the best message music. They were punk before punk and they were far more gifted than any stated punk band could ever imagine being.
This of course leads to my point and I'm smarting over it as I write. Since the annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees special will not appear again on television until the 2009 inductees are announced I thought I'd kick in some of my own angst and perhaps give us all enough time to get some additions in the Hall that should have been in years ago. I casually had a conversation with an acquaintance (I've had these conversations with multiple numbers of rock fans over the years) over who is in and who is not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. "The Flaming Nose" is a positive site and I will retain my positive air. Obviously, many worthy acts have been inducted into the Hall of Fame with some of my own personal favorites making it in on that first ballot, but way too many acts have yet to get their taste of respect by the Rock board. For a complete list of all who have made the list, click on this link.
According to all reports there are 1000 experts who nominate and vote on who will be inducted into the Rock Hall. Who are these experts? Academics, journalists, radio executives and producers.
I'd like to launch a campaign to make the most obvious omissions a thing of the past. In what world would Neil Diamond, Chicago, the Doobie Brothers, Heart, Linda Ronstadt, Pat Benatar, Connie Francis (my sister thinks it is horribly unfair to not have Connie in the Hall), Cat Stevens, Cheap Trick, Alice Cooper, Hall & Oates, Peter Gabriel/Genesis/Phil Collins, Steve Winwood, the Monkees and Donna Summer not be included on this list.
Ann & Nancy Wilson, Connie Francis, Linda Ronstadt, Pat Benatar and Donna Summer are all obviously women and dare I say this, but I honestly do believe that an old boy's club has kept these women out of the Hall of Fame. Admittedly, there are some women in the RRHF, but either they are so obviously obvious or they fit that "critically acclaimed" group of non record sellers that the board just loves. How dare they keep out some of the most commercially successful women in the history of the rock era? I am not a woman who falls on the threshold of female victimization with any perceived slight of women, but this is a resounding insult to these artists.
Heart rocked with the best of any of the men on the RRHF list. Listen to "Love Alive" and then admit you agree with me. Connie Francis was one of the earliest of women rocking her way to the upper echelon of rock/pop success.
Linda Ronstadt made the cover of Wenner's Rolling Stone at least seven times. Wouldn't you think JannWenner would give her some space in the Rock Hall Heaven considering she obviously sold lots of issues of his magazine? (or else why put her on the cover?) Linda Ronstadt is one of the most versatile, durable and commercially successful acts of the rock era. How about all of those Grammy Awards? Not that I put much stock in the Grammy Award, but I'm sure the RRHF does. They probably share many members of their respective voting boards. She can sing rock, pop, the standards, folk, mariachi, country, Broadway and opera. Who else has accomplished this feat? Her pliable and impeccable voice are still staples across several genres of music. Linda had flawless intonation and an insightful understanding of lyrics.
Pat Benatar was a gifted rock vocalist who had a healthy run of success for a long period of time in the late 70's and early 80's. Donna Summer was the queen of Disco. Both Pat and Donna had outstanding technical skills. Pat had an expressive tone that went beyond the call of duty for rock/pop music. Her "All Fired Up" is one of the three or four best female rock vocals. Donna had a deeply expressive voice. She gave a focus and sophisticated spirit to all of her songs. I hated disco and I refused to listen to it during the 1970's, but I secretly liked Donna's voice. She was a talented stylist and phraser and those abilities easily could have landed her a gig back in the big band era with a Dorsey brother. Don't tell me Donna's a disco singer. That means nothing to this group. Lots of genres of music are represented on this list, so you can't keep her out because of the disco image.
I repeat I don't want to be negative on our positive site so I will not point out all of the people that shouldn't be in the Hall of Fame, but boy there are lots of them. One hit wonders abound on this list. Along with the the one hit wonders (and some of them aren't even wonders with one hit) are a few of the most inconsequential acts in the history of music. Go to the inductee list and point them out for yourself. I'd be willing to bet the average American (nothing against the Average American - my point is some of these acts aren't consequential enough) can't name one song by several of these acts.
I adore the music of James Taylor (I've seen his summer concert tours for years), but why is he in and Cat Stevens is not in? I, for one got through lots of times in my youthful years via the comforting spirit of "Peace Train," "Sitting," "Wild World," "Father and Son," "Morning Has Broken," "The First Cut is the Deepest" (the original and still best version of this heavily covered song), "Oh Very Young," "Can't Keep It In," "Hard Headed Woman," and I could keep going and going. He was a gifted songwriter, musician and performer and his music has survived quite nicely. He sold more than 60 million records and his actual recording career didn't even make it to ten years. "Tea For The Tillerman," "Teaser And The Firecat," "Catch Bull At Four" are some of the best albums of the 1970's. Jackson Browne's recording career is far less fluid than that of Cat Stevens and yet he is in. By the way, I like Jackson Browne and I'm clearly not saying he shouldn't be in the Rock Hall, but I'm saying it diminishes the club when Cat Stevens has not been brought in as a member.
Neil Diamond is not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Other Brill Building acts are in the RRHF and he out succeeded the most successful. The guy is now 67 and he is one of 8 or 9 acts on the planet that can still sell out 20,000 seat venues for two nights or more. Yes, there is something to be said for a long and successful career. Besides, what better act to karaoke???? Neil appears in the now classic Martin Scorcese documentary, "The Last Waltz" and Robbie Robertson introduces his friend with some gusto, so that alone should score you points with the voters. Who questions Robbie Robertson and The Band? Without Neil in the RRHF it is all vanity. Think of the legacy this man has and he hasn't even completed the path of his life. "Solitary Man," "Kentucky Woman," "Cherry Cherry," "Holly Holy," "Shilo," "Thank The Lord For The Night Time," "I'm a Believer" and of course the now rarely played, but truly monumental rocker, "You Got To Me." I just stopped writing since I had to listen to "You Got To Me" right this second and I'm going to have to jump around with joy in my heart due to its dominating pop rock greatness. I'll be back in a few...
Chicago - God forbid their absence. This is a band that recently celebrated 41 years in the business. They have continually been overlooked by the Rock Hall voting gods. Listen, I will admit that I quasi loathe the Peter Cetera dominated soft pop silliness of the '80s, but if you had to judge all bands that hang around this long for their creative spirit you'd have no one in the building. There are drags in all sustainable careers. Can we judge Lucille Ball for "Life With Lucy?" Can we interpret Paul Newman's career based on his appearances in "What a Way to Go," "The Secret War of Harry Frigg" or "When Time Ran Out?" Chicago should be judged by their output from 1967 through the 1970's. I repeat, go and look at who is in the Hall of Fame. Go see for yourself, since I don't want to be critical and oh I so could be. I'm restraining myself by not revealing some of the least worthy names. Go to their website and get mad as Heather Mills on a morning talk show!
Doobie Brothers - This is a huge, grand, whopping big "what the?" Behold - the Doobie Brothers aren't in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Someone needs to explain this lapse of judgement. Their rock cred has never been questioned. They have been overlooked for no good reason. A gargantuan list of songs that millions of both older and younger boomers can sing word for word. They were a brotherhood of rock and roll musicians who deserve their spot in Cleveland.
I don't even like Alice Cooper's music, but I can be objective regarding the list. Cooper was immensely influential with his stage theatrics. His on stage antics led to Ozzy Osbourne, KISS and Marilyn Manson. Whether one likes Alice's music is not relevant. You cannot ignore his contributions.
Steve Winwood (he is in with Traffic, but this is a lobby for the solo work) is one of the most gifted musicians in the rock era and perhaps there is no better white soul singer; and that is saying quite a bit when you think of the vocal talents of some of his contemporaries. This is not a guy who wrote two chord simplicities (even though the Traffic classic "Feelin Alright" is a two chord classic - note: this song was written by Dave Mason, but I include it here for no other reason than to elevate Winwood's backing vocals on the song - even the backing vocal is a treat). His work is complex and thoughtful.
Peter Gabriel/Genesis/Phil Collins - Gabriel has long been a critical darling, so I don't understand this brush off. Gabriel has been influential beyond music. He pretty much made a real art form out of the music video back in 1986 with his great big tug of an album "So." Gabriel is also one of the downright weirdest live acts in rock. Normally I would not feel compelled to defend self-absorption and a big ego, but in his case it was downright appealing. Phil Collins is certainly as worthy as Billy Joel. Again, nothing against Billy Joel, but measure for measure they are sitting on the same scale.
Hall & Oates are the biggest selling duo of the 20th century. Hall's voice alone is worthy of the induction. "Sara Smile" is still so potent a ballad I can almost muster up a tear upon hearing it 33 years after its release. "Kiss on My List" dominated that eternal spring of 1981 like no song could dominate a season. At some point, they must be recognized.
Cheap Trick - I will not explain this at all. They belong in any hall of fame honoring Rock and Roll or else it just doesn't make intellectual sense. By the way, I'm not even that a big fan, but I get it. Where are the Hollies, the Commodores, the Monkees (don't scoff since their music still sounds great and they created the music video long before the music video).
Where are Rickie Lee Jones and Todd Rundgren? Needless to say I love them both and I go way back with their music, but I'm shocked that they haven't been inducted since they were creative darlings of the critical elite. Both have been very influential, so where is their New York City gala award night? Todd Rundgren wrote deeply memorable tunes. A wonderful tunesmith and gifted lyricist. He was one of the most technologically gifted individuals in rock's history. His producing credits far outweigh even what he did himself as a recording artist and it is the most diverse list of credits your mind could absorb. (Meat Loaf, Badfinger, Cheap Trick, Hall & Oates, Grand Funk Railroad and about 30 other acts). Rickie Lee Jones was a listenable female version of Tom Waits. She created a style in song that cannot be duplicated. Her output of music is still original and thought provoking. An artist of the highest order.
I would like to end this by saying why are there so many people on the early influences induction list (many of whom are deserving and many of whom are not), but not the single greatest early infuencer of all - Frank Sinatra. How is it possible that Bono can idolize the man, Rod Stewart can do covers of his classics, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan - I will repeat that - Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan will show up and open and close the show for Frank's 80th birthday party. I was at the taping for this television special and as a side note this was my biggest celebrity sighting in my long TV career. I was standing approximately eight feet from Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen in deep conversation. Savor the moment!
Bruce inducted Frank into the New Jersey Hall of Fame and he nailed it when he said that Frank was one of the few artists that transcended genres and generations. In hindsight that is almost an understatement. Bruce added that when he hears Frank he hears America. The Boss saluting the Chairman of the Board. Very natural! When it comes to music Bruce knows all. How is it possible that Frank Sinatra has not been inducted as an early influencer? He was style and substance. His attitude reeks of rock star! They have people on this list that are highly admirable, but what are they doing on an early influencer list. I'd like to know who some of these people influenced.
Here is the entire list of inducted early infuences: Elmore James, Professor Longhair, Hank Williams, Louis Jordan, T-Bone Walker, Billie Holiday, Nat "King" Cole, Charlie Christian, Louis Armstrong, Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith, The Ink Spots, The Soul Stirrers, Willie Dixon, Howlin' Wolf, Jimmie Rodgers, Jimmy Yancey, Robert Johnson, Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys, Jell Roll Morton, Bill Monroe, Mahalia Jackson, Pete Seeger, The Orioles, Lead Belly, Woody Guthrie and perhaps the most worthy recipient of all, Les Paul. I am not in a position to argue with anyone on this list, but my thesis is that Frank Sinatra should join them.
See what The Who and Stephanie Nicks started? I got all bent out of shape just watching them play their music again.
Lobby those associated with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Get mad as Howard Beale and send emails and make phone calls. You may or may not agree with some of my assessments, but I know you have your own ideas and base your madness on who you think has been omitted. The 2009 recipients will be honored in a few short months, so get hopping.
Please deliver comments. I want to hear your comments.
Queer as Folks and The L Word now that they're off Showtime (a Logo sister network.) Unfortunately both shows are edited for content now, but what do you want from basic cable anyway? (Well, perhaps a bit more than just an edited version, considering what FX gets away with on their original series.) However, if you want the full monty at least you can get hold of the DVDs.
. His own works are informed by his experience as a late-blooming gay man, which makes Logo possibly the perfect venue for this latest incarnation of the over-the-top antics of Sordid Lives. As with all great art, however, the sheer excellence of the material transcends all boundaries. Sordid Lives is a series that will please all sorts of people on every kind of level.
the performances of the marvelous cast, many of whom are reprising their roles from the movie. The talented comedy veteran Rue McClanahan is new to the SL world in the role of the clan matriarch Peggy, with familiar face Beth Grant (Donny Darko, Little Miss Sunshine) as her sister. Peggy has two grown daughters, one a little wild (played by Ann Walker) and one straight-laced (played by Bonnie Bedelia -- do you remember when she married Little Joe on Bonanza?), and a son who has spent the last twenty years in a mental institution mainly because he goes around in Tammy Wynette drag, and where he is currently under treatment from a vainglorious and deluded therapist bound to dehomosexualize him.
Will and Grace, is absolutely amazing as Brother Boy, the locked-away son. He's hilarious, of course, in sequined drag outfits as he milks the broad comedy with everything he's got, but Jordan's also incredibly touching in the role and takes Brother Boy to a level where a lesser actor couldn't go. There's tremendous heart in his portrayal, and overall there's a huge well of compassion and genuine human emotion in this show. In this respect it reminds me a great deal of the Canadian hit Trailer Park Boys which also manages to find truth, beauty and authentic modern family values in the midst of slapstick and non-stop profanity. Sordid Lives has a core of warmth and affection that is obviously not accidental and is completely winning.
Hollywood life can barely hope to compete with a cast of veterans going all out in well-written flamboyant farce. I don't mean to forget Olivia Newton-John as a just-released-from-prison bar singer befriended by Peggy. N-J is a good sport and her wonderful voice is a treat.
Died - Part 1" and stay for Part 2 immediately following at 9:30pm. I predict you'll be completely up-to-speed and hooked on Sordid Lives after the hour. Visit the Sordid Lives website on Logo for entertaining character profiles and other background material, though unfortunately no full episodes available for viewing. (That seems like a mistake; clips just won't cut it these days. Better we get our episode fix from Logo's website than finding it elsewhere...and we will find it elsewhere.) I also suggest reading this terrific post from HuffingtonPost.com written by Del Shores about the show and his life and how they are related, and you will also want to check out his website here.
