Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms yearning to breathe free.
Bass players are the Rodney Dangerfields of the rock world, it seems. I tell ya, they just don’t get no respect. And no wonder! On the day after God created rock stars (sometime around 4 am on a gin-soaked Saturday night in Memphis), he created groupies. And he commanded them: “Thou shalt honor thy singer and thy lead guitarist and have no false rock Gods before thee.”
“We did it because we loved him.” That was the caption under a photo of four smiling Beatles that graced the back cover of a special edition “Paul is Dead” magazine that I bought in 1970. Beatlemania had come and gone, but I wasn’t ready to let go – especially of Paul, who was my … Read more
’Tis the season to see “Jews for Jesus” popping up around Pittsburgh’s Squirrel Hill neighborhood, the vibrant center of Jewish culture here in the city. Why, just the other day I was strolling to the iconic Little’s Shoe Store, my beloved Bethlehem of Boots, when I saw two spunky dudes dressed in blue “Jews for … Read more
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.
Heavens to Murgatroyd! According to the ancient Mayans, the world will end on Friday, and I have SO much left to do! I’ve had “doomsday” pencilled in on both my pocket calendar and the kitchen wall calendar for months. And, because I’m such a high tech kind of gal, I also listed it on my Google calendar (too bad I forgot to hit that “email reminder” button). Oh, I’m such a silly goose! I rarely bother to even LOOK at any of those calendars until it’s too late! One day left on earth doesn’t give me much time to do all those things I’ve been wanting to do for eons. Why do I ALWAYS procrastinate?