tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44118780637499961362024-02-02T05:10:51.226-08:00Living Between The LinesBetween The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-14866001814618935312008-10-16T15:10:00.001-07:002008-10-16T15:14:48.294-07:00Memorable Sports Events<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD21kssdbMMC06hFQdC_UI0MtZBNaij3Bx7cNe7oXhXGEybtuSYL6VO9s3CEMVgWn1QICwKJGC9hj0FSU_hm-rZmRUbnO5_ABwm5eI0lgRH2Or9WdIh9btqDZO2SVyt2hO7HvE4iBiImE/s1600-h/angry.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257877759393649794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD21kssdbMMC06hFQdC_UI0MtZBNaij3Bx7cNe7oXhXGEybtuSYL6VO9s3CEMVgWn1QICwKJGC9hj0FSU_hm-rZmRUbnO5_ABwm5eI0lgRH2Or9WdIh9btqDZO2SVyt2hO7HvE4iBiImE/s320/angry.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Two Grand Slams in one inning<br /><br />One of the worst ideas I ever had was to get Dodger season tickets. Somehow I convinced myself that they would go to the World Series that year and I would get all of the money back. Of course, they never made it above third place. It was one of those awful teams with Dreifort, Karros, Mondesi, Todd Hundley, Ismael Valdez, just typing those names makes me queasy.<br /><br />Anyway, Chan Ho Throw it in the Dark was pitching, and in the third inning of another meaningless game, he gave up two grand slams in one inning to the same batter—Fernando Tatis. On so many levels, this has got to be one of the most amazing things ever! Who stays in the game to give up two grand slams in the same inning to the same guy? Chan Doh! managed by Davey Johnson.<br /></div><div><br />I was also at the game when he kicked this guy for no reason. </div><div> </div><div><br /> </div><div>Boston Pedro!<br /><br />I went to a 1999 game at Fenway Park. I sat right next to the Green Monster and saw Pedro Martinez lose to Tim Hudson of the A’s. The whole game a person sitting right behind me screamed the word “Pedro!!!” over and over again. The whole game-- “Pedro!!”...wait a few seconds.. “Pedro!!!” Pedro never answered him. It was weird.<br /><br />Baroid at Dodger Stadium<br /><br />The year that the greatest cheater ever slimed his way to the record books, he came to Dodger stadium with a chance to do it there. I bought seats right next to his left field position and witnessed some of the clever and lewd insults directed at him the whole game by the fans. It was great. They had so much hate for him.<br /><br />Chargers games<br /><br />Every year my friends and I get some tickets to a Charger game. We drive down there drinking copious amounts of beer, then we tailgate, and then we sneak as many beers into the game as we can. I can never remember what happens at the game. But I keep going back.<br /><br />Angels playoffs 1979<br /><br />Some rich neighbor had tickets to a key playoff game. I was 11 years old. The Angels first playoff appearance ever had the fans chanting “YES WE CAN!” so loudly in the last inning that the Orioles fell apart. The players admitted later that the noise of the fans had caused the outfielders to not be able to hear the bat which resulted in some key errors and the Angels won the game. The fans stayed after the game for an hour chanting. Then the next day the Angels lost the game and the series was over.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-48646865026972682732008-10-16T13:44:00.000-07:002008-10-17T21:53:50.063-07:00Memorable Concerts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6U3ZVtC3lfNs5q35VJzL2rPu3-Ixp0iiR009lwpsaXKhSG4qF5G7IyRSnSNNA1a8HnkRFNlNsP8cgRfZhl3i-FbJaapY1ZGkjyHrNi4gyDk4978eXpIS-ggz8m9cHfcn4O2oStT3omI/s1600-h/devo+earth+day.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257855938358539058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6U3ZVtC3lfNs5q35VJzL2rPu3-Ixp0iiR009lwpsaXKhSG4qF5G7IyRSnSNNA1a8HnkRFNlNsP8cgRfZhl3i-FbJaapY1ZGkjyHrNi4gyDk4978eXpIS-ggz8m9cHfcn4O2oStT3omI/s320/devo+earth+day.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I have seen many concerts but the ones that stand out for some reason are these.<br /><br />Devo Earth Day<br /><br />The first celebration ever of Earth Day happened in San Francisco in 1990, and a huge concert was planned down at a field by the bay with Devo as the headliner. Unfortunately, the day was ruined by awful bands, including one Jefferson Starship who sang what could possibly be the worst song ever recorded—“We Built This City on Rock n Roll.”<br /><br />In the afternoon, Devo took the stage and began playing while thousands started circle-dancing and slamming. The hippies and cops were horrified and shut down the band after one song. The singer for Devo took the microphone and asked, “How can we save the earth if we can’t even put on a concert?” This resulted in the audience chanting “Fuck the Earth, Fuck the Earth!” until the police made everyone go home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Editor's note: A witness (Dave S.) to this concert responded with the following....</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Times;"><div>"devo never played a song...they strummed, maybe, a chord or two...i remember jim jagus' friend, the tall chunky redheaded extrovert with the goatee arguing what song they were gonna go into...like he thought he "could name that tune in one strum" of the guitar...at that show the worst act of the day, starship, were dodging projectiles throughout their "set"...towards the end of the show i ran into some acquaintances who told me that they had taken off their socks and had filled them with dirt and mud and chucked them at the band members of starship."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; font-family:Georgia;">Grateful Dead and Santana</span><br /></div></span><br />1987 Calaveras County. I had seen the Dead many times, well, actually I rarely saw them because they were boring, but I sure hung around the parking lot sampling the goods. Anyway, I got into this show and in between bands, these two stunt planes flew over the concert doing crazy things like going into dives and flying right towards each other and veering away at the last second. People were freaking out! Their acid trips turned into a bummer man! It was great!</div><div><br />Editor's note: A witness (Dave S.) to this concert responded with the following....</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; ">"the dead show...remember the hells angels riding their bikes in the restricted area behind the stage...a perfect day...hot...blue skies...big puffy clouds...santana had a stageful of musicians with him...15 dudes or more on bongos and other percussions...deadheads were dancing so vigorously that they had kicked up a huge dust cloud...the stuff was good that day my friend. woke up in a tent that i had climbed into with no poles...like it had collasped...like it was a sleeping bag..."</span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Times;"><div><br /></div><div>Yep. Thank you. It was like that.</div><div><br /></div></span></div><div>La street scene Ramones<br /><br />From 1978-1986 Downtown Los Angeles hosted the LA Street Scene. In 1986 a bunch of punk bands were scheduled. There were thousands of rowdies, it was free, and you could drink, what could go wrong? At about 11:00 a.m. Agent Orange began playing surrounded by people who began throwing bottles. This was not a good beginning and the violence began to get worse. Being somewhat of a provocateur myself, I was excited to see how bad it could get. As night fell and the thousands of people waited for the Ramones, it became obvious that they weren’t going to play. People jumped up on the stage and began destroying the equipment and then cops on horses charged out from behind buildings swinging batons and running over the drunk gutter punks. It was crazy but unforgettable and probably why downtown events now cost so much money.<br /><br />Butthole Surfers<br /><br />1987 Variety Arts Center. The Hickoids opened for them. The first song they came out and busted their guitars up and one of the pieces cracked open the skull of Dick Miller. They didn’t care…they were playing huge movies of surgeries behind them. Everyone was throwing up and bleeding or running for the exits crying. It was the worst trip but the best show.</div><div><br />Editor's note: A witness (Dave S.) to this concert responded with the following....</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; ">"were you in the car when we got pulled over on the way to the buttholes? open containers, unopened case of beer, half ounce of something in somebody's pocket, and of course the lengthy ticket i recieved...lets see: tailgating, speeding, reckless driving?, pulling over to the left side of a freeway, open containers...the cop wanted to arrest me...i still cant figure out why he didnt...i passed the sobriety test...he didnt give me a breathalizer..."</span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:Times;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:Times;">Yep...I was there. That's why it was a memorable concert....that was the ride from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles. The stop was in Malibu. One stop resulted in 5 citations. I had forgotten. Thanks.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:Times;"><br /></span></div><div>Flipper<br /><br />I saw Flipper in San Francisco and it was a typical show for them. Afterwards, I was hitchhiking with a friend and they picked us up. When we asked to get out of the truck, they responded, “You’re with Flipper now. We’re not letting you go.”<br /><br />Springsteen<br /><br />This guy called me up and said, “Hey do you want to see Springsteen at Dodger Stadium?” I went and observed the cult of Springsteen fans. The concert was surprisingly good….he puts on quite a show, but I was more amazed with the multitudes of middle class Americans singing along with every word at the top of their voices with tears falling down their faces.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-3983171126083750442008-03-17T14:49:00.000-07:002008-03-17T14:52:56.363-07:00Evil Things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNm35BnS-wlj__uK3S-zVeXDwhLxVRNaQD3aMfZDiaQHd60baT6XLp_lesRA8DmTTIYnY6JT4KJJvRVNLEGx53fBGcp4DLnxISxlOiB1ogNpMySPl0d4QJdP2V1bJ7IWp8UyiQAly-E8/s1600-h/new+ones_0116.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178831819329888642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNm35BnS-wlj__uK3S-zVeXDwhLxVRNaQD3aMfZDiaQHd60baT6XLp_lesRA8DmTTIYnY6JT4KJJvRVNLEGx53fBGcp4DLnxISxlOiB1ogNpMySPl0d4QJdP2V1bJ7IWp8UyiQAly-E8/s400/new+ones_0116.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>There are agreed upon evil things in the world—famine, President Bush, war, disease, etc. Then there are the not-so-obvious, but just as troubling, evil things in the world. Here are a few….<br /><br />1. Computer Solitaire<br /><br />This is the opiate of office workers. People who play computer solitaire are lame. It’s like staring at a wall. It means you have nothing to do and you need to take a look at where your life has ended up.<br /><br />2. Feeding Pigeons<br /><br />This is like solitaire but worse because it makes a mess and attracts dirty seagulls that shit all over. If you engage in this behavior, it means you are crazy and probably don’t have friends, not that you care about animals.<br /><br />3. Passwords<br /><br />There are too many passwords and user names required in this new tech society. And now the computer wants more than six characters, a number, a capital letter, a symbol, etc. At my job, we have to change our password every six months! I have taken to tattooing my many passwords on my arms and chest.<br /><br />4. slow walkers<br /><br />Is it just me or is there a huge problem with people, especially teenagers and crazy homeless people, deliberately going really slow when they cross the street in front of cars? It’s like they finally have some power over someone else and they are going to use it by making you wait while everyone watches them do their slow walk to the next curb.<br /><br />5. Potholes<br /><br />What’s the deal with the craters in the ground in L.A. lately? Especially on the right hand side of the road. And more noticeable in the poorer areas of town. I’m waiting for these holes to trap cars and small children, not just ruin wheel alignment and jar drivers. Is it too much to get the city to fix these things? Poor some gravel in there!<br /><br />6. Pledge Drives<br /><br />A couple of times a year NPR does a two week pledge drive and the radio voices have to ask for money. Annoying and Evil!<br /><br />7. Instant Messaging<br /><br />This is not as big of a problem in recent years. In the past, I would be on my computer surfing inappropriate websites and some other computer user name would pop on my screen and type to me. Don’t bother me friend-o! I’m busy!<br /><br />8. Online petitions<br /><br />Every once in a while a do-gooder with time on his hands sends me an email that is a petition to urge congress or some other entity to take action. Impeach President Bush! Please sign your name and email to everyone you know. Can you imagine a White House Aide bursting into a presidential briefing saying, “Sir, we have a situation! There is an online petition to impeach you. It must be stopped before it brings the whole regime down.”<br /><br />9. Setting clocks wrong on purpose to be on time<br /><br />I have a roommate that does this. Ironically, she is still late everywhere and I end up being even earlier to places than I should be. How does this work? Does the person forget that they are lying to themselves? No, they adjust and keep doing the same thing and impacting everyone else. I mean, should I set my scale back 10 pounds to make it seem like I am skinnier? Or set my speedometer ahead 20 miles per hour so that I won’t speed?<br /><br />10. Driving to Dodger Stadium<br /><br />It takes 2 hours to drive to the ballpark to watch a game. Then you have to pay like 20 bucks to then walk a few miles to the game. Meanwhile, the Dodgers are behind by seven runs in the third inning and another night is wasted. Very Evil!</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-83362226851701319872008-01-28T13:02:00.000-08:002008-01-28T13:04:07.898-08:00Some Assembly Required<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4HQ6OD2ezUFklI6wsaOItEW6A_PZ7VZ5hRExJJi5zEpPjexS8MVjQ-bAOGVpdQ_gMt7IgqBPakbMGWholdI3ITMErQqVNejO_UQ-ujqyVUXRBjQA6yBr7T4ukzZV2D0mxEoumLTCkJE/s1600-h/some+assembly+required.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160636138039905570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4HQ6OD2ezUFklI6wsaOItEW6A_PZ7VZ5hRExJJi5zEpPjexS8MVjQ-bAOGVpdQ_gMt7IgqBPakbMGWholdI3ITMErQqVNejO_UQ-ujqyVUXRBjQA6yBr7T4ukzZV2D0mxEoumLTCkJE/s400/some+assembly+required.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is one of the most evil phrases known to mankind. From IKEA bedroom furnishings to toys for kids, “some assembly required” is a one way ticket to hell. These days you can’t buy anything without building it yourself at home with the wrong tools, directions written in every language in small font, with at least 25 steps, and of course some pieces missing. I’m a fairly good handyman, but “some assembly required” strikes a chord of irrational fear in me that causes me to avoid buying certain items. In fact, if I buy a bike for my kid I have a choice—“some assembly required” or pay 10 bucks extra for the model that has already been built.<br />On Christmas Eve and Day people around the nation suffer as they struggle to build the hot wheels set, bedroom furniture, medieval castle, skateboards, etc. Sometimes it takes hours of frustration, minor back pain and eye strain to assemble the item. It seems like a scam to me. The prices aren’t cheaper; they just do less work for the consumer. In the future, will we go to a store to buy a shirt and walk out with some fabric, thread and a needle? How about building a flat-screen t.v. on Christmas Eve in the garage after a few egg nogs? Or walking out of a furniture store with one piece of wood and some instructions. “Some assembly required” translates to “A huge amount of frustrating bullshit is demanded to use this product” or “ripoff.”</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-64797540638549600122008-01-04T12:25:00.001-08:002008-01-04T12:26:16.331-08:00A Day in the Life...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc957xCquRaR_G4bwCZfDr2LzPFMLGO6e_ZHeCLxS6bbZPqudkb29BQLELY4vAlPLnLzSAM1KIlL1b6X-C-80rFVJGTTIPYSWeeFadydPoe8wT98k-X2yL0VgP-30T52rG5r9U0Ee0gjQ/s1600-h/new+ones_0001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151720367741354994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc957xCquRaR_G4bwCZfDr2LzPFMLGO6e_ZHeCLxS6bbZPqudkb29BQLELY4vAlPLnLzSAM1KIlL1b6X-C-80rFVJGTTIPYSWeeFadydPoe8wT98k-X2yL0VgP-30T52rG5r9U0Ee0gjQ/s400/new+ones_0001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I woke up at 5:15 a.m. I walked to the kitchen and flipped on the coffee pot, which I had loaded up last night with 1 and a half cups of coffee. I went into the bathroom and put in my contact lenses and then put on the shaving cream. I left the bathroom with the shaving cream on my face and put two eggs along with a tablespoon of salsa in the frying pan and turned it on to low heat. I returned to the bathroom and finished shaving.<br /><br />After shaving and contact lenses, I put the scrambled eggs on a plate with two tablespoons of cottage cheese; I grabbed my coffee and sat at the table and ate breakfast.<br /><br />I put the dishes in the sink and walked to the bedroom where I turned on sportscenter. The time was 5:40. I did 20 pushups and then 45 sit-ups—three sets of each and then turned on the shower to get the water heated up. At 5:53 I entered the shower, so that I would get out at 6:00 to catch the beginning of sportscenter.<br /><br />I put on deodorant and some cologne and eye drops while watching television. My selected clothes were hanging on the door and I put them on. At 6:15 I began tying my tie. It took me approximately 10 minutes to get the right knot and length so that it hangs to my belt and is symmetrical at my neck. After making sure that it looks acceptable, I unbutton the top button so that my neck can breathe. A free-range human neck is always preferable to an uptight choking shirt collar. I headed to the bathroom to take my vitamins. Every morning I take aspirin, multi vitamin, saw palmetto, vitamin c, glucosomine. I brush my teeth and put moisturizer on my hands and face. Finally, I comb my hair, grab my man purse, walk out to get the paper and get in the car. Before leaving, I make sure that I have my sandwich in my purse and my cell phone. It is 6:45.<br /><br />At work I eat two handfuls of roasted, unsalted mixed nuts at 9:45. At 12:30 I eat the same sandwich that I have eaten for the last 9 years at my desk. 6 slices of turkey, 2 slices of Swiss cheese on low-carb bread. At 1:00 I go to a café and read the paper for my hour lunch break.<br /><br />At 4:20 I get up from my desk and walk to my car. I drive home and change from my office zombie clothes to more comfortable clothes. I pick out my outfit for tomorrow and begin planning dinner and what sports I will watch that night. At 6:30 I have a glass of red wine and begin making my lunch and coffee for the next day, along with dinner. At dinner I have another glass of wine and then I sit on the couch and read until 8:45.<br /><br />At that time, I take off my contacts, floss my teeth, take my natural sleep aid pills and pour my nightcap. I check the Internet for a few minutes and then go to sleep at 9:30 and wake up at 5:15 a.m. to begin another day.<br /><br />I do this same routine every day. Isn’t life wonderful?<br /></div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-38933364243169620792007-11-28T07:50:00.000-08:002007-11-28T08:45:51.280-08:00The King of Federal Agents<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATPZJ-Qu5DOPNN04Acg9Y71Jv3hwICx5odtAOhCPxsgb-6Y0rHVuPsLvukMUsqLTBq9evWYzmD-XVCiDn1rLShjZ9kayzJxG23Rba8Q1p8c5X4qtzM4ioLCugm0nfPp7niRrqm4hi06I/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137921549419352850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATPZJ-Qu5DOPNN04Acg9Y71Jv3hwICx5odtAOhCPxsgb-6Y0rHVuPsLvukMUsqLTBq9evWYzmD-XVCiDn1rLShjZ9kayzJxG23Rba8Q1p8c5X4qtzM4ioLCugm0nfPp7niRrqm4hi06I/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImnaijW_hZIUtRcaIt0cxgWyojjHjo4-KRCF1lQN98mN1hHZP_Eh2X09cHEyYTwMgw55bQW1moCCsNNWwUN-l0XSjNiJmiyZIbrBIFUhzSXT5gVuvz3mzl4kTC71COqnBp1ZZIcvaBGs/s1600-h/nixonelvis1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137920690425893634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImnaijW_hZIUtRcaIt0cxgWyojjHjo4-KRCF1lQN98mN1hHZP_Eh2X09cHEyYTwMgw55bQW1moCCsNNWwUN-l0XSjNiJmiyZIbrBIFUhzSXT5gVuvz3mzl4kTC71COqnBp1ZZIcvaBGs/s400/nixonelvis1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>*************************************************************************************</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>In 1970, Elvis Presley wrote to President Nixon asking to be made a Federal Agent-at-Large in the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs. He was concerned with the “hippie elements” and their “drug culture.”<br /><br />Imagine, the biggest drug addict in America asking to be made a federal agent in the war on drugs.<br /><br />Nixon gave him a federal agent’s badge and a few years later Fat Elvis added the “at large” part, and then he died of a massive drug overdose while sitting on his toilet, causing him to fall face first and suffocate in his two inch shag carpet. Classic. Irony.</div></div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-65594455255849048582007-11-27T15:08:00.000-08:002007-11-27T15:10:25.657-08:00Hey You! Watch the Road.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPWtSoMV32UpLRCfBbL-PW0Q_-kQ4nhfSu0obdAMuP0V4c8bWnMoN1HA0fu_idkuOMu7mGd8_vC0W2SGtH42nZlI_yW3e5WNF4Wk017RcGtUPpJ0BjMJZpoj4G4FjnZeebumeKZIu70Y/s1600-h/watch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137661411840168690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPWtSoMV32UpLRCfBbL-PW0Q_-kQ4nhfSu0obdAMuP0V4c8bWnMoN1HA0fu_idkuOMu7mGd8_vC0W2SGtH42nZlI_yW3e5WNF4Wk017RcGtUPpJ0BjMJZpoj4G4FjnZeebumeKZIu70Y/s400/watch.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>As you drive east on Venice Blvd in Western California, you probably will take your eyes off of the road to look up at this sign. This is one of the greatest examples of irony ever. Whoever dreamed this up is a genius. Can you picture someone reading it and rear-ending the car in front of them and a huge chain reaction accident developing? Sweet!<br /><br />And speaking of driving in Los Angeles….there are big problems. The lack of public transportation fiasco has crippled this city. People can no longer go anywhere for a good portion of the day. I would love to go to Hollywood from the Westside, but it has become impossible! Want to see the Dodgers? Get ready to sit in your car for two hours before and after the game. Clubbing in Hollywood? Get ready for packed streets, with people walking faster than you can drive…again for hours. Want to go somewhere on a Friday afternoon? Sorry, you can’t.<br /><br />It is a quality of life and public health issue that should have people filing a large class-action lawsuit against whoever is responsible for the people of L.A. sitting in their cars every day for hours breathing in car exhaust.<br /><br />Los Angeles is a great city but the transportation disaster is turning it into a dysfunctional mess and it doesn’t look to be fixed anytime soon.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-65210764643736646052007-11-26T09:22:00.001-08:002007-11-26T09:33:09.664-08:00St. Louis<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqu0U5IVQcpuZqdSyQw6F619b7cL8M0J8qjZ97DKA9AtD-XtlhGmQdgIo1tQzFfwWT1ElwRFHmwDOP9BU82PToEKMjxl0aiE15d-r32enHUjOCVOvo1PEh4hdmRt9r8PnO6WTLXNNyzNY/s1600-h/IMG_0203.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137203229023998658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqu0U5IVQcpuZqdSyQw6F619b7cL8M0J8qjZ97DKA9AtD-XtlhGmQdgIo1tQzFfwWT1ElwRFHmwDOP9BU82PToEKMjxl0aiE15d-r32enHUjOCVOvo1PEh4hdmRt9r8PnO6WTLXNNyzNY/s320/IMG_0203.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnec1LSAMNHFh62nRv-8LtDjmVYfduY9_oL-qsViS-NrolQYCFTPo8avJ-eQddOo0c3rgYFYhJveO0z0KbxjRDlCUr71xVu0ksYXIxhPWD6lSnDg1m-DD_21izm_lTEHDoB52GG90oiBA/s1600-h/IMG_0212.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137203246203867858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnec1LSAMNHFh62nRv-8LtDjmVYfduY9_oL-qsViS-NrolQYCFTPo8avJ-eQddOo0c3rgYFYhJveO0z0KbxjRDlCUr71xVu0ksYXIxhPWD6lSnDg1m-DD_21izm_lTEHDoB52GG90oiBA/s320/IMG_0212.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QzDKh6D7rIoS4QHC4gKzuOQqus9sTpjd_y0FsHQIvM4hQEEzPvMaAvpYhDYg3ypqWssXyki0IoJWea1OQR3qLN-fITlZTyzYxqOucXk5Yas3AY2uc50PJ1mcE6mBILpcA9-eDNDQFa8/s1600-h/IMG_0216.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137203254793802466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QzDKh6D7rIoS4QHC4gKzuOQqus9sTpjd_y0FsHQIvM4hQEEzPvMaAvpYhDYg3ypqWssXyki0IoJWea1OQR3qLN-fITlZTyzYxqOucXk5Yas3AY2uc50PJ1mcE6mBILpcA9-eDNDQFa8/s320/IMG_0216.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I went to St. Louis for four days as part of my racketeering gig. My hotel was located INSIDE of a shopping mall, so every day I walked out of my room and straight into that weird lighting and music and scores of wandering aimless teenagers with brightly colored hoodies holding slushy drinks.<br /><br />My first night in St. Louis I went to the infamous Casino Queen in East St. Louis; very depressing atmosphere full of beaten down people chain-smoking and playing cartoon-like slot machines. After five minutes, my eyes were burning from the clouds of toxic nicotine gas that settled over the crowd. Fortunately, the drinks were only a dollar, so I was able to dull the pain with only a few bucks. I don’t gamble, so it was a short and cheap night. Smoking cigarettes was a big deal in St. Louis. Everywhere I went, people were lighting up with that wrinkled brown bag skin look and raspy voices.<br /><br />Next morning I woke up and walked to the baseball stadium. Many of the new stadiums being built look great and have fan-friendly amenities that Dodger Stadium is completely lacking. They are located downtown, with city views, historical statues, close to public transportation and surrounded by good bars and restaurants. A few stadiums have even set up establishments run by ex-players like Boog Powell’s Baltimore Barbecue, and St. Louis has a bar with Al Hrabosky the Mad Hungarian as its namesake. I began formulating a new idea for Los Angeles--Daryl Strawberry’s Crack House. Stadium officials could put up a shack in the parking lot and have Daryl and other infamous neighborhood legends slanging rock and hanging out with their peeps and mingling with Dodger fans who want to experience the high life. I’m sure this would be a big hit.<br /><br />Next, I walked to the big metal arch thing that is next to the river. I figured I could take an elevator up to the top and take a picture, but it was all crowded and I finally got in and learned that I had to wait two more hours to go up. I watched a great documentary and looked at the Lewis and Clark exhibit and then I began the process of getting to the top. I won’t bore with the details but it involves more lines more waits and then a hot stuffy claustrophobic ride up to the top where you look out some really small dirty windows and go back down as soon as possible. Not worth it and it took all day.<br /><br />Headed out to the Del Mar Loop, which is like a smaller and cleaner version of Haight Street with hipsters and hippies and record stores. I still had not paid once for the metro public transportation and had made numerous trips back and forth across the city. I wondered if others were riding for free also.<br /><br />St. Louis is full of people wearing mouth jewelry. Big grills that make it difficult to speak. At one point, late at night, I was the only white dude on a crowded metro line and everyone was grilled out with these brightly colored hoodies listening to loud headphones and rapping along with their individual ear concert. It was loud with everyone moving their hands around cursing to the beat and their grills were so big that they had trouble enunciating the lines. I wish I had a video camera because it was like a macabre party with everyone drinking and riding the metro all acting intense but friendly-like at the same time. And then the metro stopped and everyone was ordered off, and security came down and walked around checking everything and the train left with everyone standing in the cold wondering what now? Finally another train arrived to continue the party.<br /><br />The next morning I went on the Anheuser Busch Brewery Tour. I walked for what seemed like two hours through a strange part of town called Soulard with small red brick houses and many small neighborhood pubs full of guys watching sports, talking loud, and waving lit cigarettes in the air. I was beginning to notice that St. Louis is full of abandoned houses with boarded up windows and in E. Saint Louis there are large office-type buildings which are abandoned with broken windows and surrounded by empty lots. Why are there so many empty buildings and why aren’t the homeless people from other cities making their way to St. Louis? Maybe this is why I didn’t see ANY homeless people the whole time. But I did see lots of smokers with grills…people not barbecues.<br /><br />Anyway, the Budweiser tour isn’t that great. It’s very corporate and the Clydesdale horses do not seem happy as they are housed in a small barn next to a bunch of barking Spuds Mackenzie dogs. Afterwards, they give you a few beers and some pretzels, so it’s not a complete waste of time.<br /><br />Did the long walk back to the hotel mall, noticing that drivers do not stop for people in intersections, which is different from Western California, where pedestrians can do whatever they want and the cars have to stop.<br /><br />Went to see The Evens, a folk-punk band featuring Ian Mackaye at some out-of-the-way art space in some other abandoned part of town. They put on a great show with much audience participation and great music and insightful comments of course. A must-see, especially for 5 bucks.<br /><br />And that was St. Louis.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-79796326165174287312007-10-30T16:34:00.000-07:002007-10-30T16:49:26.344-07:00What is That?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdL1j0QBDU0FH6Jh9dz3VfNtMIRh5pM6ZM9sYj9BFP97plvyKnbAKSH43qMIUIVd1-JBAU7RrHwA9gLTXNzntVXQfzVG_bGZutEtFJ7dPPAFIRyArfpVpqVl-nJhSvZOKwYQXe4qwG9s/s1600-h/new+ones_0054.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127280783953613090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdL1j0QBDU0FH6Jh9dz3VfNtMIRh5pM6ZM9sYj9BFP97plvyKnbAKSH43qMIUIVd1-JBAU7RrHwA9gLTXNzntVXQfzVG_bGZutEtFJ7dPPAFIRyArfpVpqVl-nJhSvZOKwYQXe4qwG9s/s400/new+ones_0054.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Is it a waste disposal site in Cleveland?</div><br /><div>Chinese metal dump?</div><br /><div>Three-Mile Island?</div><br /><div>Tijuana Power Plant?</div><br /><div>Storm Drain Reclamation Project in New Jersey?</div><br /><div>Bombay Sewer Treatment Plant?</div><br /><div>Uranium Mine in Kyrgyzstan?</div><br /><br /><div>None of the above; I pulled my car over near the 405 Freeway in Carson, West California and took this photo. I have no idea what it is.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-54137185657877045212007-10-25T15:00:00.000-07:002007-10-26T07:32:24.979-07:00Good Books<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHq2tAEoPrnvKjeL_pQwvx8IRP1gm0wwruznKzyQMjribxFWfiL8KTQDYEHOdCA6-mrLLQKiUWsEHsmghOftbV93zMFv7rG0BzeHiwS7hI8L4MqCdyZivZ8ydDConZqi3rrEoj90FUXc/s1600-h/books+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125412189712011522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHq2tAEoPrnvKjeL_pQwvx8IRP1gm0wwruznKzyQMjribxFWfiL8KTQDYEHOdCA6-mrLLQKiUWsEHsmghOftbV93zMFv7rG0BzeHiwS7hI8L4MqCdyZivZ8ydDConZqi3rrEoj90FUXc/s320/books+004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I am a reading addict. There, I said it, and I hope to never recover. I carry around a bag full of books, newspapers, and magazines disguised as a briefcase. I have different books strategically placed around the house for quick reads and I am a frequent and habitual user of public libraries.<br /><br />My mother says that when I was little, kids would invite me to birthday parties and I would bring a book and sit in the corner and read it. I still do that. What’s the big deal? I wake up periodically in the night and open my books to read them. I keep a whole library in my car for use in traffic. I am so near-sighted that my optometrist makes jokes about how I must be reading all day and night. I don’t let him know the truth; I just smile and act puzzled.<br /><br />Books are great companions. Atticus Finch is my best friend, and when I need a traveling partner I bring Meaursault. Here are some of my favorites, in no particular order.<br /><br /><br />On The Road by Jack Kerouac<br /><br />I avoid rereading this book because I am afraid that it won’t be as good. And maybe it never was as good as I though it was. But it was one of the most important books of my formative years. Like most good stories, it involves a journey with beautiful descriptions, philosophical questions, booze, women, cars and written in an amphetamine non-stop spontaneous prose that desperately deserves editing to be understood by squares. Although I prefer the anguish and situation of The Subterraneans and the poetry and description of Desolation Angels, On The Road got me on the road, literally, with my own Dean Moriarty as driver, and provided a good introduction to the characters and lifestyles of hipsterville.<br /><br />The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain<br /><br />If Boo Radley was the first punk turned goth, then Huckleberry Finn was the first American punk rocker. Runs away from alcoholic dad, school, and religious caretaker, has adventures, gives corrupt society the middle finger and finally decides to do the right thing even if it means going to hell. Genius irony, great dialogue, characters, a symbolic journey and quest for freedom. Too bad the second half of the book completely sucks.<br /><br />Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky<br /><br />Raskolnikov commits a murder for no good reason and then spends the rest of the novel trapped in paranoia and overwrought psychological tension. It is not an easy novel, but it is so deep and Dostoyevsky is such a good writer as he weaves his way through the psychological character profiles that it remains a smooth read. I would also recommend the Grand Inquisitor chapter from The Brothers Karamozov as essential literature.<br /><br />You Can’t Win by Jack Black<br /><br />This is my favorite book. It is the autobiography of Jack Black, a career criminal hobo burglar junkie who traveled the country in the late 1800’s. Jack tells the story of opium dens, Canadian prisons, saloons, stickups, train-hopping, brothels, hobo encampments and wild safecracking stories with great descriptions and insights. There is an introduction by William S. Burroughs and the cover says, “For Criminals of All Ages.” This is a must read if you are into this sort of genre and it really captures an underworld slice of history that is totally fascinating. Jack Black is a true Western hero who has written one of the greatest books of all time. “To live outside the law, you must be honest.” B. Dylan<br /><br />Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut<br /><br />Like any right-living person, I love almost all of Vonnegut’s books, but this one is my personal favorite because of its evil dark humor. It is the story of an American Nazi spy with a cast of unforgettable characters and brilliant irony. The lesson from this book is that “We are what we pretend to be, so be careful what you pretend to be.” For me, the darkest sections of the human heart are sometimes the tastiest and this book is tasty. It’s pretty short too.<br /><br />Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov<br /><br />It’s sad that one has to read this book hidden inside another book to avoid unpleasant looks and comments. Incredible use of language, plot twists, a journey, a twisted love story. People who avoid this book are missing out on a great American novel. I was in a graduate lit class years ago and a group of females refused to read the book and criticized the professor for including it in the syllabus. Look, just read it. It’s like enjoying a good horror movie. Guilt-free.<br /><br />Books by John Krakauer<br /><br />He is a great non-fiction writer of Into The Wild and Into Thin Air and other assorted stories of adventure. One book is about a kid who rejects society and goes off in to the woods, another is about an ill-fated summit of Mt. Everest and he just wrote a book about the Mormon Church which is o.k.<br /><br />Punk Rock Biographies<br /><br />Open up and Bleed<br />Lexicon Devil<br />Please Kill Me<br />We got the Nuetron Bomb<br />Last Gang in Town<br />Surviving the Ramones<br />Anything by Lester Bangs<br /><br /><br /> Some other good or important books<br /><br />The Stranger by Camus<br />100 years of Solitude by Marquez<br />A Bend in the River by Naipul<br />The Good Earth by Buck<br />All Quiet on the Western Front by Remarque<br />Death Comes for the Archbishop by CatherBetween The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-43071770449455104312007-10-25T14:50:00.000-07:002007-10-25T14:55:24.684-07:00Coleridge's Green Thumb<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYX97FGUzwn1QWIsI02H-pCCNFUyPAuLg5BnqaURaKg5tRTtysqsAhxiEKU9huRX_yQ7wCRvV5IRGlHsFDBbJVlZZFL2Z-lCOa70wo8GN8sI-ixWfhfhLup7IercpKxMZe2hsepBOyeU/s1600-h/flowers.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125395310490538178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYX97FGUzwn1QWIsI02H-pCCNFUyPAuLg5BnqaURaKg5tRTtysqsAhxiEKU9huRX_yQ7wCRvV5IRGlHsFDBbJVlZZFL2Z-lCOa70wo8GN8sI-ixWfhfhLup7IercpKxMZe2hsepBOyeU/s320/flowers.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I enjoy gardening. In Western California, we can grow things year-round. For years I grew herbs and vegetables, but recently these large flowers have sprung up in the flower bed. They only bloom for a short time and then the petals fall off. Interestingly, I have found that the white goo that oozes from the pod when sliced with a razor blade makes for a strong brew of tea. It is relaxing and after I drink it I feel like there are no problems. </div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-42369228272353802012007-10-24T11:10:00.000-07:002007-10-24T11:12:12.239-07:00The Sixth Man Award<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGD6z45hAQ1k9hjEuKSCaneYfUm_hhuin2lKHKK2eIpAHACdJ-oKsZdc0MeDg50L8sSxL51TI0kHYDbGdb15f3XX_TmQGm2n6fudqRDLUAJL_3W_cgoWz-D4YUaavLHJzQR8GmPS7rMU/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124967345132209938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGD6z45hAQ1k9hjEuKSCaneYfUm_hhuin2lKHKK2eIpAHACdJ-oKsZdc0MeDg50L8sSxL51TI0kHYDbGdb15f3XX_TmQGm2n6fudqRDLUAJL_3W_cgoWz-D4YUaavLHJzQR8GmPS7rMU/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Lakers vs. Trailblazers Game 7 Conference Finals<br /><br />The greatest game I have ever been to and I played a largely unknown but pivotal part in the victory. Let me set the scene…<br /><br />The Lakers, after years of pretty good teams and some talent, finally put it together in the year 2000 with Kobe, Shaq, and Phil. They were ready to march to the championship until the seventh game in Los Angeles against the hated Jailblazers. I had tickets to the game somehow. They were in the top row at the end of the Staples Center, which is very far from the action.<br /><br />Anyway the game was a disaster. The Blazers dominated for three quarters and it looked like the season was over, but with the Lakers down by like 15 right before the end of the third quarter, Brian Shaw banked in a three pointer.<br /><br />And then the game completely changed. The Blazers could not make a basket and the Lakers were steadily gaining. People started getting excited and the people in my row noticed that every time I stood up, the Lakers would miss a basket. If I stayed seated, the ball went in. It was weird and it kept happening and more and more people began noticing. Unfortunately, everyone in the place was standing and while seated, I could not see anything. But the Lakers kept making shots and if I tried to stand up, strangers would push me back down. Somehow it worked and miraculously the Lakers pulled off one of the greatest and most stunning comebacks in history. I did not see any of the last 10 minutes from my seat but I could hear people going crazy and it was satisfying to know that I was playing a crucial role in a historic game, and I was lavishly praised at the end by the twenty people in my row. I never received credit from the Laker organization, but I also never asked for any. I just did my part to bring the championship to Los Angeles.</div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-79748595511192815942007-10-23T10:18:00.000-07:002007-10-23T10:26:58.180-07:00Stupid Bumper Stickers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqb-e73iX1w4HHLo6IvDBLyCqTwefU-BAe_DNBS0_KaWxRl0JudjwBZY_w5SLB6g4TSmaQG7lYFl4cF6thWZbUsOYGS5TvkWUrweeO_H1Hg-4cuMnbVwj0kn1uyPyuZRCrcIiJOqpzlR4/s1600-h/downtown+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124584921244174082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqb-e73iX1w4HHLo6IvDBLyCqTwefU-BAe_DNBS0_KaWxRl0JudjwBZY_w5SLB6g4TSmaQG7lYFl4cF6thWZbUsOYGS5TvkWUrweeO_H1Hg-4cuMnbVwj0kn1uyPyuZRCrcIiJOqpzlR4/s320/downtown+001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I was driving the other day when I noticed a bumper sticker that read, “Don’t Abandon Your Baby!” It got me thinking. Who would put this on a car? First of all, is there anyone driving around pregnant and about to give birth who would see this bumper sticker and think, “Hey maybe that guy ahead of me in the white pickup truck is right, maybe I shouldn’t abandon my baby. I think I’ll keep it. Thanks whoever you are!”<br /><br />Why would someone put that on their car? Do they want people to know that they are some sort of self-righteous crusader out saving babies? Yes!! The other one that is similar is the sticker entitled “Stop Senior Abuse!” Again, is this pertinent information? Would someone who is driving over to some place to fight an elderly person see this sticker and think, “Hey maybe that guy is right. Maybe I should stop beating up senior citizens.”<br /><br />What’s next?<br />Don’t Poison Your Neighbor’s Dog!<br />Don’t Throw Items From Freeway Overpasses!<br />Stop Abducting People!<br />Racism is a Very Bad Thing!<br />Pollution Sucks!<br />Stop Leaving Lights On When you go to Sleep!<br />Don’t Avoid The Dentist! </div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411878063749996136.post-2660886460187639762007-10-18T08:10:00.000-07:002007-10-22T11:12:48.361-07:00Music<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDspOQfxtsWee9UkXwMMUCKiHagI-Uko3xqmIkBGfA0sqNmegxfxBHOnzFgNOlcsWZgQUNPrglcnMi3n8CJYePblg9L48RO09DW5vdYm5ANPbMOQHWiK491PX9CJktPfTrG1nyI_ymx5w/s1600-h/100_0212.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122707814377391858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDspOQfxtsWee9UkXwMMUCKiHagI-Uko3xqmIkBGfA0sqNmegxfxBHOnzFgNOlcsWZgQUNPrglcnMi3n8CJYePblg9L48RO09DW5vdYm5ANPbMOQHWiK491PX9CJktPfTrG1nyI_ymx5w/s320/100_0212.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Life is full of great things—baseball, roller coasters, films, safety pins, Mission Street Burritos, The Wire, books, red wine….but music is the best thing in life. My first albums bought for me by my parents for Christmas were Never Mind the Bollocks, Rodney on the Rock Vol. I, Devo, and The Beach Boys. From then on, music got me through everything in life. I spent many hours as a teenager sitting in my room reading album lyrics, trying to figure out the guitar and organizing my records. I can still think of nothing better than listening to music with good friends late at night….<br /><br />Here is a short list of my favorites. The photo is of Elvis’ grave at Graceland, which I will report on in a future post.<br /><br /><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Top Bands List (in no certain order)<br /></span><br /><strong>Rolling Stones</strong>- Great albums from the sixties to the early 80’s. Many styles, excellent lyrics, musicianship. Ultimate rock stars with lifestyles that set the standard for how a rock star should dress, act, live and die. Just remember that this is Keith’s band and Exile, while flawed, is the masterpiece. Sticky Fingers! Experienced them with Guns and Roses at the Coliseum. </div><br /><div><br /><strong>The Clash</strong>—Politics, ska, drugs, style. The first album was the beginning of punk rock as we know it. Sure, the Pistols, Stooges, and the Ramones may have been there a little earlier, but the Clash were the whole modern punk package. As they tried different styles of music and hairstyles, it got a bit watered down, but always they remained cool and relevant. Never saw em. Missed the US Festival.</div><br /><div><br /><strong>Bob Dylan</strong>-- Not really a band but still the greatest lyrical genius since Shakespeare. It was almost mystical how he wrote hundreds of songs that rival some of the greatest classical poetry ever written. Even he can’t seem to explain it, and I like the weird religious stages and accidents and disappearances. His interviews are must reading along with the film “Don’t Look Back.” And he could rock if needed. Maintained rock star image 24/7. Saw him at the Antelope Valley Festival a few years ago.</div><br /><div><br /><strong>Iggy and the Stooges</strong>—Only three albums but Iggy was cutting himself on stage, smearing himself with peanut butter, dressed in women’s clothing while screaming “I Feel Alright!” in 1967. Way ahead of his time. The music was like grunge power metal punk not tainted by talent. These guys could barely play but rocked like none other. After the stooges, Iggy was homeless then fled to Berlin with David Bowie and reinvented himself as a pop alternative act. And still stayed important and prolific. Still rocking and looking sickly well. Saw him at a small club in Santa Barbara one time.</div><br /><div><br /><strong>Tom Waits</strong>—Can write like Dylan but is also a musical genius and plays almost all of his instruments. One of the better actors and interviews anywhere. Very intelligent. Early career made drunken bowery piano music while keeping up a witty comic act on stage. Moved into more avant garde type stuff later. Moves down on the list because he has kind of given up lately. His music makes me cry. Boo ‘frickin Hoo. Saw him at the Wiltern years ago. Amazing.<br /><br />Great Bands that made one or two really good albums<br /><br /><strong>Sex Pistols</strong>—Only one album and then self-destruction. But it changed all of music as we know it. Rotten’s snarl and the guitar booming caused a whole generation to poke safety pins through their cheeks, put on boots and tell their parents off. The lyrics were so unheard of at the time “I am an antichrist. I am an anarchist! Don’t know what I want but I know how to get it.” “No Future for England” Brilliant!! And they looked cool. One of the greatest losses was that they only did one album and that the extremely lame Sid Vicious is associated with them, but the way that they disintegrated was perfectly punk and authentic. </div><br /><div><br /><strong>Pavement</strong>—Two brilliant albums that came out of nowhere and caused all of the post-punks to ask WTF? Poetic lyrics that made no sense. An emo skinny singer and a band of total geeks making beautiful complicated music. Everyone who hears them, loves them. They did not care about success and had no rock star attitude. </div><br /><div><br /><strong>NWA</strong>- That one album was so scary and demented. Everyone took notice. </div><br /><div><br /><strong>Velvet Underground</strong>—Dark glasses, urban white artist pretend-junkies, abstract films, 10 minute songs with only feedback in the sixties. Ahead of their time. Didn’t sell many records, but according to someone who knows, everyone who bought a record formed their own band. Hugely influential on many levels. </div>Between The Lineshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05928799042779182259noreply@blogger.com0