the
From Glam Rock…to Garbo….to Goats
the
HIP QUOTIENT
From Glam Rock…..to Garbo…..to Goats
the
From Glam Rock…to Garbo….
to Goats
Heavens to Murgatroyd! How did I forget to post this item yesterday in honor of…you guessed it…National 'Men Make Dinner' Day? Shite, my man didn't make me any vittles! Well, I guess it's MY fault for not alerting him to this most important and manly of holidays. Geez, women have to think of everything. I'll bet nobody had to ask these guys…
April 24, 1976, marked the last evening that Paul McCartney would spend with John Lennon. That night, Paul and his wife Linda dropped in on John and Yoko, unannounced, and the two former Beatles spent a few hours together in the Lennons' apartment in the monolithic Dakota Building in Manhattan's Upper West Side. Don't you just wonder what the Fab Two engaged in on that Saturday evening? Did they take turns bouncing 6-month-old Baby Sean on their knees? Nosh on a jar of Yoko's expensive caviar? Play "Bohemian Rhapsody" on John's turntable, hoping that Ms. Ono wouldn't screech "scaramouche, scaramouche" along with Freddie Mercury? Well, as it turns out, they sat in the Lennons' living room and watched Saturday Night Live! Imagine their surprise when SNL producer Lorne Michaels appeared on their TV screen, announcing an offer to pay the Beatles $3,000 to come together and perform three songs on his show!
"Wanted: Charismatic crusader. Someone who can combine smarts, satire, moxie, and adrenaline to combat all that plagues modern society, from gas drilling to corporate pillaging." Well, we have just the man for the job. Too bad he's dead. Attention: this is an important history lesson for all you sweet young things born after the baby boom! The subject is Abbie Hoffman, who died 25 years ago today. He was one of the most colorful pranksters and political activists of the 1960s, and a hero to many. His outlandish behavior inspired many to become politically active, question authority and protest the Vietnam war. Hell, his FBI file consisted of over 13,000 pages.What an adorable little bad-ass Jew!
It's that time of year when we feel compelled to set ourselves up for failure by making unrealistic resolutions we'll never keep. Once again we will resolve to quit doing all the naughty things we enjoy, heed the advice of gurus named Chopra, Weil, Tolle, and Oz, and embark on new lifestyles defined by words like organic, tantric, mantra, quinoa, and kale.I stopped making self-improvement resolutions a long time ago. Today, as always, I embrace my inner sloth, heed the words of gurus named Lennon, Dylan, Berry and Waits, and enjoy a lifestyle defined by words like riff, gig, mojo, backbeat, rave, juke, and a-wop-bop-a-loo-mop-a-wop-bam-boom. I prefer "old vinyl" to "new age," amplification to meditation, and Prince to Pilates. But as yer humble blogger, I have a responsibility to guide you, my loyal followers, toward a more enriching reading experience. Therefore, I have made these 10 resolutions.
Okay, I know it's Christmas season and we're supposed to be happy and peaceful and idealistic, listening to carols both solemn and silly, and trying to be all Norman Rockwelly and stuff. Heck, the last thing I'd want to do is bum you out as you deck the malls, looking for the prettiest Victoria's Secret training bra for little Madison, or the perfect starter rifle for Little Ethan. But, as your faithful blogger, I feel I have a duty to expose you to an alternate version of Christmas culture via a smathering of holiday tunes that are a wee bit more realistic for many at this time of the year.