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Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
the
Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
I heard your footsteps at the front door, and that old familiar love song. ‘Cause you knew you'd find me waiting there, at the top of the stairs. Those lyrics weren’t written by a heartsick bloke waiting for his lover to come home. They were composed by an artist recalling his boyhood days in a working-class London neighborhood, waiting for…
He'd have his "superstar" world premiere, of course. On July 12, 1971, the first authorized production of the Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Webber rock opera "Jesus Christ Superstar" was staged in my fair city, Pittsburgh, PA. Quite appropriate, actually, considering it's the birthplace of the man who coined the term superstar: Andy Warhol! The musical starred Jeff Fenholt as a laid-back, hippiefied Jesus, Carl Anderson as a prescient, forewarning Judas, and Yvonne Elliman as a sexy Mary Magdalene. A crowd of 13,000 people turned out to see the play at the city's domed, space-age Civic Arena, the world's first major sports/entertainment venue to feature a retractable roof.
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.
"This man is not a role model." So proclaimed my 5th grade teacher Mr. Kuntz as he held up a 'Life' magazine featuring photos of New York Jets' star quarterback Joe Namath swilling Scotch with adoring groupie dolls and cigar-chomping minions at his Upper East Side Club, Bachelors III. Joe Namath, a media-hungry playboy? I was taken aback by that indictment, at a time when I too young to even understand what 'taken aback' meant! Today is Joe's 72nd birthday, and here's a look back at his groovy unsportsmanlike style.
Each year on the anniversary of John Lennon’s death, his son Julian thanks his Facebook followers for their heartfelt condolences, and asks them to buck up, remember the good times, and not wallow in sadness. Right on, Jules. Even though I shed a tear each and every December 8th – the date of John’s murder in 1980 – this year I'd like to present an upbeat memorial to the man whose music changed my life. How about a little story about his influence on the city of Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic, where the Lennon Wall - Lennonova Zeď - stands as a symbol of freedom.