Originally written 2/19/8
First off, I admit I am a Joe Jackson fan. While that might make me a bit biased (What? A reviewer admit they’re biased?), it also means I hold him to higher standards and expect a bit more from Joe. Most people know Joe from his biggest “hit” ‘Is She Really Going Out With Him’. However, he’s had a bunch of songs on the radio through the years that you have probably heard. ‘Steppin Out’, ‘Breaking Us in Two’, ‘Obvious Song’, “You Can’t Get What You Want’ have all had fair time on your dial over the years. ‘One More Time’ is currently being used in a Taco Bell commercial of all things. Doesn’t make me want to run out to buy the new Chalupa or whatever, but I am glad he’s making money from it. Presumably, he can now eat for free at Taco Bell while on tour. In a way it’s sad, because Joe is so much deeper than just a few “hit’ songs. His Jumpin’ Jive predated the Brian Setzer lead/inspired pop/swing era by a good 15 years. He had a classical music run in the mid to late 90’s that predated Mc Cartney and Joel’s forays. He has earned a devoted fan base in his almost 30 year career.
Joe’s new album is Rain. Joe stated in interviews that he wanted to challenge himself by writing an album for a trio-piano, bass and drums. In fact, it’s 3/4s of the original Joe Jackson band minus Gary Sanford on guitar and backing vocals. Poor Gary is probably wondering what he did so wrong. Right away the album comes off as a bit sparse. It’s not terribly noticeable, but there are parts where a rhythm guitar or brief solo would inject a bit of life. As it is, there are jazz tinges to the album, if only in arrangement. It’s a bit unique these days to hear an ‘adult alternative’ album with no guitar. Upon repeated listening, it’s not so glaring, but it caught my ear the first time through.
As with most of his pop releases, Joe writes a few catchy songs that stick in your head. A few hours after my first listen I found myself humming tunes (and singing the wrong words-but hey you pick that stuff up the more you listen). Rain starts off with one of the better songs ‘Invisible Man’ into another goodie ‘Too Tough’. The 4th song in, ‘Wasted Time’ brings us to one of his trademark ballads. Joe has always had a knack to write a very sharp and honest lyric to his slower tunes. ‘Wasted Time’ reminds me of Volume 4’s ‘Blue Flame’ or Laughter & Lust’s ‘The Other Me’, both songs I vividly recall to this day. ‘Wasted Time’, like some of the songs that follow, carry a certain nod to 70’s AM radio in the bridges and vocal layering. Some of these songs would sound killer on a scratchy vinyl disc.
Joe’s voice still holds up. In fact, he’s hitting quite a few high notes in the album, almost to the point where it’s a bit distracting. He still plays a mean piano, check out the jazzy ‘Uptown Train’ or mellow ‘Solo’.
If you are a fan, I think you will like this CD. Certainly not every song is solid, but Joe has more than earned his right to throw a few experimentals in. If you are a casual fan, I think there’s enough good material here to make it worth your while. I am sure there are diehards who will like them the most. Joe will be touring theaters this spring (in the US) with his trio and I am excited to see him again.
The packaging for the album is quite nice. And yes, I still buy the CD, and don’t download. The CD booklet has all the lyrics. And as with the early run of Volume 4, the first run of Rain comes with a bonus live DVD with Rain songs and other goodies. Honestly, I’ve been too busy listening to the CD to check out the DVD yet. But I’d be anxious to read your review of it.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
New Words
Originally written 2/1/8
It’s been a while since we had some new, Kevolution Theory-approved words. So, since I’ve been slacking, here’s a twofer.
Funonxious [fun-nok-shuhs] adj annoying, offensive behavior in a setting of more than 2 people, whereby one party (the funoxious one) exhibits behavior they think is funny or witty, much to the detriment to others nearby. Funoxious behavior is mostly fueled by alcohol, thought not always. While displaying funoxious behavior, others are annoyed, appalled and not finding said behavior enjoyable. The funoxious one thinks he is the life of the party, even after the party has ended. A perfect example would be driving home from a party. The funoxious one would be the passenger, while the driver would be the sober, responsible one. In this instance, funoxious behavior would be singing, yelling, cracking (the same) rude jokes over and over, yelling out the window, etc. Lore has it that there is also a funoxious pill that can make some instantly funoxious, even without the aid of alcohol.
Sickney [sik-nee} adj State of being fed up with constant reports of the problems and exploits of a singer or actor. Sickney came about while I was on the treadmill at the gym, and the only thing on TV was constant coverage of Britney Spears being loaded into an ambulance. If it was a 3 minute story, you saw the same shot of Brit getting loaded into the ambulance like 12 Goddamn times. While I was pursuing my degree in radio/TV/film (yes, a waste, I know), we learned of a theory. Like a lot of my college days, recall is foggy, but it basically went this way; constantly showing an image in the media, over and over, will create a bigger impression on the public. So even though Brit only got into the ambulance once (that week), seeing it over and over almost creates a bigger impression on weaker minded viewer. Sickney can also be applied to the recent death of Heath Ledger. Aren’t there far more important stories going on in the world than a celebrity death? Or a pop tarts foibles?
So go forth and use these new words. I hope you are the funoxious one this week, and not grow sickney.
It’s been a while since we had some new, Kevolution Theory-approved words. So, since I’ve been slacking, here’s a twofer.
Funonxious [fun-nok-shuhs] adj annoying, offensive behavior in a setting of more than 2 people, whereby one party (the funoxious one) exhibits behavior they think is funny or witty, much to the detriment to others nearby. Funoxious behavior is mostly fueled by alcohol, thought not always. While displaying funoxious behavior, others are annoyed, appalled and not finding said behavior enjoyable. The funoxious one thinks he is the life of the party, even after the party has ended. A perfect example would be driving home from a party. The funoxious one would be the passenger, while the driver would be the sober, responsible one. In this instance, funoxious behavior would be singing, yelling, cracking (the same) rude jokes over and over, yelling out the window, etc. Lore has it that there is also a funoxious pill that can make some instantly funoxious, even without the aid of alcohol.
Sickney [sik-nee} adj State of being fed up with constant reports of the problems and exploits of a singer or actor. Sickney came about while I was on the treadmill at the gym, and the only thing on TV was constant coverage of Britney Spears being loaded into an ambulance. If it was a 3 minute story, you saw the same shot of Brit getting loaded into the ambulance like 12 Goddamn times. While I was pursuing my degree in radio/TV/film (yes, a waste, I know), we learned of a theory. Like a lot of my college days, recall is foggy, but it basically went this way; constantly showing an image in the media, over and over, will create a bigger impression on the public. So even though Brit only got into the ambulance once (that week), seeing it over and over almost creates a bigger impression on weaker minded viewer. Sickney can also be applied to the recent death of Heath Ledger. Aren’t there far more important stories going on in the world than a celebrity death? Or a pop tarts foibles?
So go forth and use these new words. I hope you are the funoxious one this week, and not grow sickney.
Christenings
Originally written 1/13/8
OK, so it’s been a while since I wrote-or blogged as the kids these days call it OMG LOL. I’ve had some experiences to write about, but none have proven to be worth our time. But I feel like writing. It’s like if I don’t do it often enough, I will suck at it. Hell, there are those that will argue that I am already at that level. What can I find that is so compelling to keep me in front of the PC at 10 on a Sunday night, instead of in bed, where I want to be? Hmmm…so I went to a Christening today. Let’s see where this goes.
I will try to keep my own religious views out of this. The fact of the matter is that I don’t like Christenings. I do not like them for many reasons. All selfish. I don’t like getting dressed up. I hate ironing. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I hate it because I suck at it. I can iron the same Goddamned shirt till there’s iron burns all over it, and it still is wrinkled. I don’t like getting dressed up. Shirts with buttons are generally a foreign object on my body. It’s already bad enough I got in my monkey suit once already this week, now this. God bless Tar, she’s such a trooper to help me out with ironing shirts. I feel like Corky standing next to her as she makes the wrinkles magically go away. Part of me thinks she does it for her own good; she does not want to be seen with a husband who clearly does not know how to iron. Another ordeal is picking out what to wear. I cringe to actually see any pictures of such events we’ve been to. I know I am wearing black. I really think I am probably wearing the same damn thing for 4-5 events in a row. I should just make a cardboard cut out, and give it to her so pictures can be taken while I am home on the couch.
I’ve been trying to branch out lately. I’ve been trying to get away from the black. Today, I picked out a lovely ensemble in the hue of shit brown. Ugh, why is it guys have an extremely limited color range to pick from? It’s not like we can match shades of yellow, neon purple, light blue. Wait a minute, maybe I am arguing my own point here. Anyway, I pick out a brown shirt that I previously emblazoned with an iron burn (but it’s not too noticeable) and new brown pants. Tara supervises the shirt, and does the pants. So we’re ready to go, and I am like a big baby. I don’t even wanna get dressed up. Reluctantly, I do. Only to discover what I thought were new brown pants must have either been old or chronic unemployment has spread my waistline like Paris Hilton spreads her legs.
Fuck, this shit is hellatight. Somewhere along the line, I fucked up. I will live with my internal organs being squished for a few hours. We go to the church, and I am floored how the Catholic religion is dying, yet they’re still building new churches. I will try to keep my personal opinions to a minimum. But here’s what I learned from the Catholic church during my time as an altar boy. If you’re good, the Church will screw you. When I was an altar boy, everyone wanted the 8 am Mass. You wanted that because school started at 8:05, and you could be late for a week. I was one of the few good kids who stuck with it. My first big reward? Fucking 6 AM Mass. I remember my mom pulling into an empty church parking lot, and me saying “Um, I don’t think even God is up yet.” I was one of the best damn altar boys, and I got the 8 AM only once. I guess I should just count my blessings, because I was never molested.
Anyway, with Christenings come other kids. I don’t really consider myself very kid friendly. It’s part my lack of patience. It’s part me being uncomfortable around kids. It’s part kids being uncomfortable around me. I think they’re all germ incubators. Why is it every kid is either screaming, crying or sneezing at these things? I’d just rather hang out with some adults I see every few years. That’s another thing at these events; there’s all kinds of faces, but damn if I remember the name or how they are related. They all know me-no doubt from my devastating good looks. And I can’t place any of ‘em to save my life.
And why are these things always held on fucking football weekends? Really, the father’s gotta step up here and say, “Honey, let’s do this after the season is over. None of my guy friends want to waste a playoff day seeing demonseed here get baptized.” But, no, they never do, and if they do they obviously get shot down. (I do admit that I will find any reason to bitch using this excuse. “Aw, honey, I don’t want to go to the Christening today because you know the Samoan Regional Horse Shoe Qualifiers are on!” Yea, you know who wears the pants in my relationship.) I know who wears the pants in that relationship, too. Fortunately, I was able to break away, and catch some of the games at the bar. I was sitting next to a dad with his young girl, like 2-3. She looked at me, then promptly sneezed right in my drink.
Awright, it’s 10:35. Bed is calling, and who am I not to answer? I feel a bit better now. I hope this post wasn’t a waste of your time. If it was, you can feel free to invite me to your kid’s next birthday party.
OK, so it’s been a while since I wrote-or blogged as the kids these days call it OMG LOL. I’ve had some experiences to write about, but none have proven to be worth our time. But I feel like writing. It’s like if I don’t do it often enough, I will suck at it. Hell, there are those that will argue that I am already at that level. What can I find that is so compelling to keep me in front of the PC at 10 on a Sunday night, instead of in bed, where I want to be? Hmmm…so I went to a Christening today. Let’s see where this goes.
I will try to keep my own religious views out of this. The fact of the matter is that I don’t like Christenings. I do not like them for many reasons. All selfish. I don’t like getting dressed up. I hate ironing. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I hate it because I suck at it. I can iron the same Goddamned shirt till there’s iron burns all over it, and it still is wrinkled. I don’t like getting dressed up. Shirts with buttons are generally a foreign object on my body. It’s already bad enough I got in my monkey suit once already this week, now this. God bless Tar, she’s such a trooper to help me out with ironing shirts. I feel like Corky standing next to her as she makes the wrinkles magically go away. Part of me thinks she does it for her own good; she does not want to be seen with a husband who clearly does not know how to iron. Another ordeal is picking out what to wear. I cringe to actually see any pictures of such events we’ve been to. I know I am wearing black. I really think I am probably wearing the same damn thing for 4-5 events in a row. I should just make a cardboard cut out, and give it to her so pictures can be taken while I am home on the couch.
I’ve been trying to branch out lately. I’ve been trying to get away from the black. Today, I picked out a lovely ensemble in the hue of shit brown. Ugh, why is it guys have an extremely limited color range to pick from? It’s not like we can match shades of yellow, neon purple, light blue. Wait a minute, maybe I am arguing my own point here. Anyway, I pick out a brown shirt that I previously emblazoned with an iron burn (but it’s not too noticeable) and new brown pants. Tara supervises the shirt, and does the pants. So we’re ready to go, and I am like a big baby. I don’t even wanna get dressed up. Reluctantly, I do. Only to discover what I thought were new brown pants must have either been old or chronic unemployment has spread my waistline like Paris Hilton spreads her legs.
Fuck, this shit is hellatight. Somewhere along the line, I fucked up. I will live with my internal organs being squished for a few hours. We go to the church, and I am floored how the Catholic religion is dying, yet they’re still building new churches. I will try to keep my personal opinions to a minimum. But here’s what I learned from the Catholic church during my time as an altar boy. If you’re good, the Church will screw you. When I was an altar boy, everyone wanted the 8 am Mass. You wanted that because school started at 8:05, and you could be late for a week. I was one of the few good kids who stuck with it. My first big reward? Fucking 6 AM Mass. I remember my mom pulling into an empty church parking lot, and me saying “Um, I don’t think even God is up yet.” I was one of the best damn altar boys, and I got the 8 AM only once. I guess I should just count my blessings, because I was never molested.
Anyway, with Christenings come other kids. I don’t really consider myself very kid friendly. It’s part my lack of patience. It’s part me being uncomfortable around kids. It’s part kids being uncomfortable around me. I think they’re all germ incubators. Why is it every kid is either screaming, crying or sneezing at these things? I’d just rather hang out with some adults I see every few years. That’s another thing at these events; there’s all kinds of faces, but damn if I remember the name or how they are related. They all know me-no doubt from my devastating good looks. And I can’t place any of ‘em to save my life.
And why are these things always held on fucking football weekends? Really, the father’s gotta step up here and say, “Honey, let’s do this after the season is over. None of my guy friends want to waste a playoff day seeing demonseed here get baptized.” But, no, they never do, and if they do they obviously get shot down. (I do admit that I will find any reason to bitch using this excuse. “Aw, honey, I don’t want to go to the Christening today because you know the Samoan Regional Horse Shoe Qualifiers are on!” Yea, you know who wears the pants in my relationship.) I know who wears the pants in that relationship, too. Fortunately, I was able to break away, and catch some of the games at the bar. I was sitting next to a dad with his young girl, like 2-3. She looked at me, then promptly sneezed right in my drink.
Awright, it’s 10:35. Bed is calling, and who am I not to answer? I feel a bit better now. I hope this post wasn’t a waste of your time. If it was, you can feel free to invite me to your kid’s next birthday party.
The Glow of Orange
Originally written 1/9/8
“Hi, thanks for calling Orange Glow. My name is Kevin. How can I help you today?’
Seriously, that was the fucking job I interviewed for today. Wave 4,337 of random resumes to random jobs yielded me this lead. And who am I to turn down anyone when me and the dog are eating the same thing these days? Sure enough, there in my email was a request for an interview. So I called the girl, and she told me a bit more about the job. It was pretty much what my research told me it was. (I can hear Denny Green yelling “They are who we thought they were!” for you NFL fans) It was a dead end call center. She told me I would be fielding calls for Orange Glow cleaner. You know how there’s an 800 number on almost every product nowadays? That would be to me. The ironic part here that I actually use that stuff to dust. O, how the world goes round. The money wasn’t enough to keep the lights on, and how many happy call center employees do you know? Right. But I need to keep my interviewing skills sharp, and this was a slumpbuster. Here was a job I knew I probably didn’t want, but I just wanted to get another ‘practice’ interview in for when a real one comes along. Plus, the aspiring writer inside me was dying to know what the fuck kind of calls Orange Glow gets. Geez, the things I do for you guys, and nary a Kudo.
But before that, I would have to submit my resume. Even though the HR I talked to obviously saw it in the web. Now I would have to resubmit it through the company’s website. And anyone who has done this knows it’s a fucking tedious task to do this-especially for a job you don’t want. After that, you now have to take an online skills test-for a job you don’t want. OK, no biggie, I will probably have to do this more, so why not? I gotta tell you, I never had hoops like this to jump through for WEA or Borders. So I take this test. For 70 fucking minutes, and yes I fucking counted. All for a job I don’t want. In addition, HR sends me an email with even more superfun tests-all for a job…o, you get the point. There is value in doing all this. It’s hammered home that this is a deadend job. All I will do is sit on the phone, and try to resolve problems, upsell shit that callers don’t need and look at dozens of data bases.
I plod on through, because I know I need more interview time. And also, I am way fucking curious to find out just who the bloody hell calls Orange Glow and for what. So the interview goes about as well as expected. For the record, she’s late, and I am early. I don’t like stuffing myself into my monkey suit for tardiness. She asks me a few questions that I am prepared for. Then I get to ask her questions, which is something you should do on every interview. Benefits, what it’s like working for the co., etc. Most of all I get to ask just what kind of questions does Orange Glow get.
She is very good. She tells me they get questions about what kind of wood it works on, how to use it, where it’s available, other products. It all sounds very good. But I call bullshit. Seriously, if you’re working one of these things, you’re getting calls from drunk college kids, dullards and Britney era rednecks who can’t figure out how to steal their neighbors’ wireless to get on that that internets.
I envision each call to be either stupid or pissed off, maybe both at the same time. First of all, if you want to find out anything about a product, doesn’t every SOB just go to the website? You only call the 800 number if you’re pissed. Or you don’t have a computer. What bonehead can’t read directions and figure out how to use furniture polish? I imagine getting calls like “does this shit stain the couch, because I just got some on it?” “Will my kittie get sick if she just drank some of this?” “Is this a suitable substitute for orange juice?” “Is this flammable?” “Can I clean my autographed David Allen Coe geetar with this here fluid?”
Who calls the 800 number to find out where Orange Glow is available? How did it get in the fucking house in the first place, dipshit? They have these things now called supermarkets, and Targets that sell this shit. Who calls to say, “Wow, this Orange Glow is quite the shit? Do you per chance sell any other cleaning products? Perhaps one to get the blood out of my…uh…a van?” The calls you get would be from someone who is pissed that they didn’t read the directions and fucked something up. It’s not gonna be my job to unfuck it. If it’s wood cleaner, don’t use it on the windows or car. I mean really, is this rocket science?
You know all these guys get crank calls and calls from drunken college guys. Or calls from extremely lonely people. Hell, if I was working an 800 number, I would tell all my friends to call me for free. Actually, from taking all those BS tests, I now know they can keep track of everything. The number of calls, how long the calls are, any previous history, etc. If I could do it for 1 day just to experience it, I would.
Ultimately, the HR is a pro, and wants to see if this is going anywhere. After it’s clear to her that I, in no way, want this shitty job, she politely asks me “Then what are you here for?” It was every bone in my body to just say “Practice.” But I had my answer prepared-something along the lines of I wanted to see what the Co was like, benefits, etc. “OK, we’ll keep your resume on file if something else pops up (HR speak for I’m shredding your resume, now get out of my office and quit fucking wasting my time), I’ll give you a call. Total time about 15-20 minutes, which is just about right for the first interview. I came in generally prepared, and I was able to take the conversation in places where I would like it to go. She probably felt some sort of glee in knowing I had to take an hour plus of BS tests for a 20 minute interview.
OK, I’m done for today. I have some cleaning to do. O shit. We’re out of Orange Glow. Well, lemme just call this handy-dandy 800 number on the back and see where I can pick up some more.
“Hi, thanks for calling Orange Glow. My name is Kevin. How can I help you today?’
Seriously, that was the fucking job I interviewed for today. Wave 4,337 of random resumes to random jobs yielded me this lead. And who am I to turn down anyone when me and the dog are eating the same thing these days? Sure enough, there in my email was a request for an interview. So I called the girl, and she told me a bit more about the job. It was pretty much what my research told me it was. (I can hear Denny Green yelling “They are who we thought they were!” for you NFL fans) It was a dead end call center. She told me I would be fielding calls for Orange Glow cleaner. You know how there’s an 800 number on almost every product nowadays? That would be to me. The ironic part here that I actually use that stuff to dust. O, how the world goes round. The money wasn’t enough to keep the lights on, and how many happy call center employees do you know? Right. But I need to keep my interviewing skills sharp, and this was a slumpbuster. Here was a job I knew I probably didn’t want, but I just wanted to get another ‘practice’ interview in for when a real one comes along. Plus, the aspiring writer inside me was dying to know what the fuck kind of calls Orange Glow gets. Geez, the things I do for you guys, and nary a Kudo.
But before that, I would have to submit my resume. Even though the HR I talked to obviously saw it in the web. Now I would have to resubmit it through the company’s website. And anyone who has done this knows it’s a fucking tedious task to do this-especially for a job you don’t want. After that, you now have to take an online skills test-for a job you don’t want. OK, no biggie, I will probably have to do this more, so why not? I gotta tell you, I never had hoops like this to jump through for WEA or Borders. So I take this test. For 70 fucking minutes, and yes I fucking counted. All for a job I don’t want. In addition, HR sends me an email with even more superfun tests-all for a job…o, you get the point. There is value in doing all this. It’s hammered home that this is a deadend job. All I will do is sit on the phone, and try to resolve problems, upsell shit that callers don’t need and look at dozens of data bases.
I plod on through, because I know I need more interview time. And also, I am way fucking curious to find out just who the bloody hell calls Orange Glow and for what. So the interview goes about as well as expected. For the record, she’s late, and I am early. I don’t like stuffing myself into my monkey suit for tardiness. She asks me a few questions that I am prepared for. Then I get to ask her questions, which is something you should do on every interview. Benefits, what it’s like working for the co., etc. Most of all I get to ask just what kind of questions does Orange Glow get.
She is very good. She tells me they get questions about what kind of wood it works on, how to use it, where it’s available, other products. It all sounds very good. But I call bullshit. Seriously, if you’re working one of these things, you’re getting calls from drunk college kids, dullards and Britney era rednecks who can’t figure out how to steal their neighbors’ wireless to get on that that internets.
I envision each call to be either stupid or pissed off, maybe both at the same time. First of all, if you want to find out anything about a product, doesn’t every SOB just go to the website? You only call the 800 number if you’re pissed. Or you don’t have a computer. What bonehead can’t read directions and figure out how to use furniture polish? I imagine getting calls like “does this shit stain the couch, because I just got some on it?” “Will my kittie get sick if she just drank some of this?” “Is this a suitable substitute for orange juice?” “Is this flammable?” “Can I clean my autographed David Allen Coe geetar with this here fluid?”
Who calls the 800 number to find out where Orange Glow is available? How did it get in the fucking house in the first place, dipshit? They have these things now called supermarkets, and Targets that sell this shit. Who calls to say, “Wow, this Orange Glow is quite the shit? Do you per chance sell any other cleaning products? Perhaps one to get the blood out of my…uh…a van?” The calls you get would be from someone who is pissed that they didn’t read the directions and fucked something up. It’s not gonna be my job to unfuck it. If it’s wood cleaner, don’t use it on the windows or car. I mean really, is this rocket science?
You know all these guys get crank calls and calls from drunken college guys. Or calls from extremely lonely people. Hell, if I was working an 800 number, I would tell all my friends to call me for free. Actually, from taking all those BS tests, I now know they can keep track of everything. The number of calls, how long the calls are, any previous history, etc. If I could do it for 1 day just to experience it, I would.
Ultimately, the HR is a pro, and wants to see if this is going anywhere. After it’s clear to her that I, in no way, want this shitty job, she politely asks me “Then what are you here for?” It was every bone in my body to just say “Practice.” But I had my answer prepared-something along the lines of I wanted to see what the Co was like, benefits, etc. “OK, we’ll keep your resume on file if something else pops up (HR speak for I’m shredding your resume, now get out of my office and quit fucking wasting my time), I’ll give you a call. Total time about 15-20 minutes, which is just about right for the first interview. I came in generally prepared, and I was able to take the conversation in places where I would like it to go. She probably felt some sort of glee in knowing I had to take an hour plus of BS tests for a 20 minute interview.
OK, I’m done for today. I have some cleaning to do. O shit. We’re out of Orange Glow. Well, lemme just call this handy-dandy 800 number on the back and see where I can pick up some more.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sleeping Tips
Originally written 1/3/8
So you can’t sleep either, huh? Neither can I. I have trouble falling asleep. I have trouble staying asleep. I have trouble getting up from sleep. I tried to start a sleep-sufferers support group. No one ever showed up. I held the meetings at 3 AM, so it shouldn’t have been a problem for anyone.
For almost as far back as I can remember, I have had trouble falling asleep. It’s never been easy for me. I’d just lie there in bed, wondering where the Sandman was. At least with Santa, you knew to leave out milk and cookies. What do you leave out for the Sandman? Warm milk and cookies?
Now that I am well into adulthood, this problem hasn’t eased. It also doesn’t help that my wife is a total narcoleptic. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. No, really, I’ve timed it. As soon as her head hits the pillow, I drop a hat, and before it hits the ground, she is asleep. Damn, this fires me up. She can literally fall asleep anywhere. I’ve found her passed out dozens of times with a book in her hand. I’ve found her sleeping on the couch, remote on the floor and being chewed by the dog. I’ve found her sitting up. I’ve found her sitting down. (If I was Dr. Seuss, I would tell you she does it all over town.) I’ve often said she could fall asleep on a bed of nails that were on fire.
So that doesn’t help my case. I’m struggling to fall asleep, and there she is right next to me. Gently snoring. I don’t know how she got this problem beat. I will ponder it the rest of the long, dark night.
You’ve no doubt done some research on the topic. You know to only sleep in your bed, and not do anything else. Well, almost anything else. You know to make it dark and cool. You’ve read to not take caffeine before hitting the sack. Don’t watch TV in bed (yea, right). Make sure your bed is comfortable. So who am I to tell you what works? I am no doctor, just one of millions of net-sperts on the topic. I will tell you of what works for me, and you can fell free to try them out.
Reading before bed sometimes work for me. It doesn’t seem to matter the topic, as long as it’s something I enjoy. However, it’s probably a bad idea to read about nightmare interpretation. I’m not the best reader in the world, so for the sake of easy bookmarking, you might want to get a book with smaller chapters. There’s nothing worse then getting halfway in a chapter, putting the book down, and upon resuming, realizing you forgot what just happened.
I also watch TV to fall asleep. I know this is frowned upon by some, but it generally works for me. Here you have more options. I like to watch something boring as all get out. Man, if there’s a late night baseball game on, forget about it, I’m out like a light. What could be more boring than watching a bunch of drugged out millionaires trying to hit a ball with a stick and run around in circles? I can watch baseball in the middle of the day, and it has the same effect. You really want to find boring programming. Infomercials are a wonderful aid in getting you some shut eye. Over the years, I’ve had every iteration of the Ginsu put me down. There’s nothing like some c-level celebrity telling me how I have to check out this time share. If it’s good enough for Ponch, then it must be good enough for me.
Other favorite infomercials are anything to do with health and beauty. You see every kind of suspect gadget and snake oil. There’s Tony Little on some sort of contraption. There’s Jaclyn Smith going on about some sort of skin cream. Seriously, if you’re up buying that stuff at 4 in the morning, sleep deprivation is just one of your many problems.
Music works for me, but it has to be specific. It has to be mellow. And the volume has to be low, to the point where you can gently hear the music. I found this one group, The Blue Nile, who did this CD called Hats that I have listened to just as many times awake as asleep. So I recommend putting in your favorite mellow CD (or mix on the iPod) and letting the music be Calgon and take you away. Also, personal experimentation has shown no known link that playing REM will, in fact, lead to REM sleep.
You can always try the warm milk route. I don’t know about you, but my bladder doesn’t need any more encouragement to wake me up 3-4 times a night to go whiz. And then the whole cycle starts over again. But, on the odd occasion, I have found an exorbitant amount of alcohol has hastened my fall to sleep. I just don’t think we can actually count that as ‘sleep’ though. Especially when I wake up feeling like I need a nap. Kinda defeats the purpose.
A few Xmas’s ago, my wife got me one of those alarm clocks that plays nature sound effects and shoots the time up on the ceiling. I have found this to be relaxing, and I use it more than the underwear and socks I got that year. I have the time projecting on the ceiling right above me. This puts a nice blue glow in the room. The bad thing is that when I have trouble falling asleep, there’s the time, staring down at me. Mocking me in all its eerie blue glory. We recently started using a humidifier on my wife’s side of the room. The humidifier glows green. It’s almost laser Floyd. Without the music. Or the weed.
Some of the sound effects help me, but not all. It is pretty cool to hear the ocean in land locked Pennsylvania. The summer evening effect is cool to hear to drown out the humidifier. Rainforest is cool to listen to as I hear the snow and ice bounce off our windows. However, waterfall is nothing but white noise, and thunderstorm sounds like someone breathing. Yea, I don’t think that is gonna help me.
If none of this works, I have one trick left for you. If I don’t feel tired yet, I’ll go to the next room and read my work email, memos, announcements, etc. I mean, if this stuff puts me to sleep at 2 PM, it will do the same thing at 2 AM. There have been times I’ve woken up in my office, heels up on the desk, leaning back in my chair, drool running down my chin. If you feel so inspired, you can also send out an email or two. This creates the illusion you work late into the night.
I’ve never gone the medication route; not even the over-the-counter stuff. I’d be too worried I’d overdose. I could see it in the Twilight Zone already; poor sucker who tried everything to sleep finally finds sleep via drugs. Then overdoses to the big sleep. Not the way I’d wanna go out.
Still, I know there will always be the occasional night where none of this stuff works. It’s just me versus the night. My mind will race out of control. I will find myself worrying; worrying about the job, worrying about money, worrying about the future, etc. Sometimes, the darkness just wins.
So those are my tips. I hope they help. I can also say I hope this is the only time I hope something I wrote put someone to sleep.
So you can’t sleep either, huh? Neither can I. I have trouble falling asleep. I have trouble staying asleep. I have trouble getting up from sleep. I tried to start a sleep-sufferers support group. No one ever showed up. I held the meetings at 3 AM, so it shouldn’t have been a problem for anyone.
For almost as far back as I can remember, I have had trouble falling asleep. It’s never been easy for me. I’d just lie there in bed, wondering where the Sandman was. At least with Santa, you knew to leave out milk and cookies. What do you leave out for the Sandman? Warm milk and cookies?
Now that I am well into adulthood, this problem hasn’t eased. It also doesn’t help that my wife is a total narcoleptic. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. No, really, I’ve timed it. As soon as her head hits the pillow, I drop a hat, and before it hits the ground, she is asleep. Damn, this fires me up. She can literally fall asleep anywhere. I’ve found her passed out dozens of times with a book in her hand. I’ve found her sleeping on the couch, remote on the floor and being chewed by the dog. I’ve found her sitting up. I’ve found her sitting down. (If I was Dr. Seuss, I would tell you she does it all over town.) I’ve often said she could fall asleep on a bed of nails that were on fire.
So that doesn’t help my case. I’m struggling to fall asleep, and there she is right next to me. Gently snoring. I don’t know how she got this problem beat. I will ponder it the rest of the long, dark night.
You’ve no doubt done some research on the topic. You know to only sleep in your bed, and not do anything else. Well, almost anything else. You know to make it dark and cool. You’ve read to not take caffeine before hitting the sack. Don’t watch TV in bed (yea, right). Make sure your bed is comfortable. So who am I to tell you what works? I am no doctor, just one of millions of net-sperts on the topic. I will tell you of what works for me, and you can fell free to try them out.
Reading before bed sometimes work for me. It doesn’t seem to matter the topic, as long as it’s something I enjoy. However, it’s probably a bad idea to read about nightmare interpretation. I’m not the best reader in the world, so for the sake of easy bookmarking, you might want to get a book with smaller chapters. There’s nothing worse then getting halfway in a chapter, putting the book down, and upon resuming, realizing you forgot what just happened.
I also watch TV to fall asleep. I know this is frowned upon by some, but it generally works for me. Here you have more options. I like to watch something boring as all get out. Man, if there’s a late night baseball game on, forget about it, I’m out like a light. What could be more boring than watching a bunch of drugged out millionaires trying to hit a ball with a stick and run around in circles? I can watch baseball in the middle of the day, and it has the same effect. You really want to find boring programming. Infomercials are a wonderful aid in getting you some shut eye. Over the years, I’ve had every iteration of the Ginsu put me down. There’s nothing like some c-level celebrity telling me how I have to check out this time share. If it’s good enough for Ponch, then it must be good enough for me.
Other favorite infomercials are anything to do with health and beauty. You see every kind of suspect gadget and snake oil. There’s Tony Little on some sort of contraption. There’s Jaclyn Smith going on about some sort of skin cream. Seriously, if you’re up buying that stuff at 4 in the morning, sleep deprivation is just one of your many problems.
Music works for me, but it has to be specific. It has to be mellow. And the volume has to be low, to the point where you can gently hear the music. I found this one group, The Blue Nile, who did this CD called Hats that I have listened to just as many times awake as asleep. So I recommend putting in your favorite mellow CD (or mix on the iPod) and letting the music be Calgon and take you away. Also, personal experimentation has shown no known link that playing REM will, in fact, lead to REM sleep.
You can always try the warm milk route. I don’t know about you, but my bladder doesn’t need any more encouragement to wake me up 3-4 times a night to go whiz. And then the whole cycle starts over again. But, on the odd occasion, I have found an exorbitant amount of alcohol has hastened my fall to sleep. I just don’t think we can actually count that as ‘sleep’ though. Especially when I wake up feeling like I need a nap. Kinda defeats the purpose.
A few Xmas’s ago, my wife got me one of those alarm clocks that plays nature sound effects and shoots the time up on the ceiling. I have found this to be relaxing, and I use it more than the underwear and socks I got that year. I have the time projecting on the ceiling right above me. This puts a nice blue glow in the room. The bad thing is that when I have trouble falling asleep, there’s the time, staring down at me. Mocking me in all its eerie blue glory. We recently started using a humidifier on my wife’s side of the room. The humidifier glows green. It’s almost laser Floyd. Without the music. Or the weed.
Some of the sound effects help me, but not all. It is pretty cool to hear the ocean in land locked Pennsylvania. The summer evening effect is cool to hear to drown out the humidifier. Rainforest is cool to listen to as I hear the snow and ice bounce off our windows. However, waterfall is nothing but white noise, and thunderstorm sounds like someone breathing. Yea, I don’t think that is gonna help me.
If none of this works, I have one trick left for you. If I don’t feel tired yet, I’ll go to the next room and read my work email, memos, announcements, etc. I mean, if this stuff puts me to sleep at 2 PM, it will do the same thing at 2 AM. There have been times I’ve woken up in my office, heels up on the desk, leaning back in my chair, drool running down my chin. If you feel so inspired, you can also send out an email or two. This creates the illusion you work late into the night.
I’ve never gone the medication route; not even the over-the-counter stuff. I’d be too worried I’d overdose. I could see it in the Twilight Zone already; poor sucker who tried everything to sleep finally finds sleep via drugs. Then overdoses to the big sleep. Not the way I’d wanna go out.
Still, I know there will always be the occasional night where none of this stuff works. It’s just me versus the night. My mind will race out of control. I will find myself worrying; worrying about the job, worrying about money, worrying about the future, etc. Sometimes, the darkness just wins.
So those are my tips. I hope they help. I can also say I hope this is the only time I hope something I wrote put someone to sleep.
What Not to Buy for Your Girl For Xmas
Originally written 1/2/8
Many people don’t know this, but when the video game Pitfall came out, it was originally based on a guy buying presents for his girl. Instead of navigating over crocodile pits and underground tunnels with snakes, it was based in a mall. Pitfall Harry had to navigate through pushy crowds, deranged Santas, prying BFFS and stores rife with traps. But that idea was shelved for being “too real”. And besides, who would want to buy a video game about shopping anyway? (And if they did, it would in fact count as that ‘lousy gift’.)
First, let’s set a few ground rules. No matter how long you have been dating Ms. Wonderful, realize her list is a trap. Sure, she will give you items that she wants. She can be very specific, and even assign you gifts that only you can get her. But the most important thing is the item that’s not written. Think of it as a test, because it is, bucko. The unwritten item on her list says one of two things. One; “I’ve been dropping hints about this for months now, and even though I didn’t write it down on this list, if you’ve been paying attention, you know I want it. Now prove to me you pay attention to me, and have it under the tree.” Or two; “Listen up, since you know me better than anyone else on this planet, there is one obvious item not on this list that you know I want. Now go prove your love, and go get it for me.” Either way, you’re pretty screwed, so good luck with that. My experience will give you a hint and tell you this item is not at any Pep Boys.
Secondly, it’s understood that you are not buying gifts for your girlfriend if you are married. If you find yourself in this situation, at least use cash. And don’t mess up sizes. Dead man walking. Let it also be understood that we are avoiding all the stereotypical blunders are being avoided for the sake of this article. No gym memberships/exercise stuff unless you plan to be sweating it out right next to her, Schwarzenegger. No lingerie. Just because it’s Xmas for you doesn’t mean she will dig the ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ or ‘Naughty Schoolgirl’ outfit you dig. Exception; if she does dig this stuff, then it is your manly duty to encourage her in this endeavor. Any cleaning items are expressly to be avoided. If you don’t buy a Swiffer for your sty, don’t buy one for her. Tools. Exception; she already said she will redo your bathroom. Anything you really want for yourself. It’s a bit too obvious when she opens up Madden 08 or cage fighting DVDs. Sex toys. That stuff is better for birthdays, anyway.
So remember, this is a test, and we’re looking to score points here. With that in mind, for my fellow brothers, I offer a list of things obvious and not so obvious to give your sweetie.
DVDS of her favorite shows/movies. While you may think you are scoring points buying her the latest season of Grey’s Anatomy or Desperate Housewives, remember she might actually want to watch these shows. With you. Maybe even twice; once just the show, then again with the commentary. Are you really prepared to spend the night with Brad Pitt or some guy named McDreamy? You better be prepared if you decide to go this route. And if this does happen to you, you have every right to make her watch cage fighting DVDs with you. You give to get.
Anything that is sold at the nearest convenience store. No, not even to “be funny”.
Anything she can easily buy for herself (especially if it’s a bad habit). So every time you go over to her apartment, there’s Diet Coke in the fridge, so you buy her a case or two. Wrong! You make think this makes you look observant, but to her this makes you look cheap. She’s addicted to coffee, so you buy her a pound. If she smokes, don’t encourage her by buying her a carton of her Slims. No no no no. Booze is a bit of a tough call. Just enough to enjoy or set the mood, but certainly not enough to have her vomit after an hour.
Anything that is alive. Geezoman, this is a big no no. Giving her anything bigger than a RoboPup shows her that a commitment must be coming soon. Giving her something exotic –say a lizard with a note saying ‘from your Lizard King’-’ is highly unadvised. The poor guy will be sewering before you know it. Unless a ring is in fact coming-think by Valentine’s Day-don’t do it. Even if she coos at every puppy she sees, don’t do it. Exception; Sea Monkeys. Sea Monkeys generally don’t last long, and landlords don’t bitch about them. You never hear couples breaking up bitching over who gets custody of the Sea Monkeys.
Anything with Jenna Jameson’s face on it. Yea, this is pretty obvious, but I just wanted to cover the bases here. Just because Jenna uses a trimmer doesn’t mean your girl will feel compelled to.
Perfume, etc. yea, I know this is quite popular, but also personal. You might think she smells good when she smells like vanilla, but she might think otherwise. Don’t fall for all the female celebrity scents out there. She may be a fan of Jennifer Lopez or Mariah Carey, it doesn’t mean she wants to smell like them. If your girl wants to smell like Britney, dump a few beers on her and you’re good to go.
Don’t give her a gift that if she doesn’t like she “can totally give it to her younger sister.”
Artwork/posters. I may not know your squeeze, but I do know she wouldn’t want the John Belushi ‘college’ poster to adorn her wall. Don’t pretend you get her tastes here. Yea, we both think a Rocky poster is iconic, but she probably doesn’t want it in her kitchen. No sculpture, no paintings (especially on black velvet) and unless you’re good, nothing from your artistic hand. However, be aware that if she does give you something handmade, you have to proclaim it the “best one of these things I have ever seen”.
Toys. No, not those toys. I mean actual Toys R Us toys. You may think it’s cute. She will think it’s creepy. You may have put much thought into your selections, but she will see you as either 1) a perv 2) immature 3) stealing stuff from your younger brother 4) cheap and unoriginal 5) a perv. Try to show some restraint here. But do feel free to buy all the cool toys you want for yourself. It’s not like she’s gonna buy them for you.
This is just a brief list of stuff not to buy. If you want the list of stuff you can buy for her, and then just ask her. Don’t stray too far from it. Yes, it’s boring and safe, but that’s the point. Remember, she’s probably going through the same thing to buy your stuff. Except, of course, you’re much easier to buy for.
Many people don’t know this, but when the video game Pitfall came out, it was originally based on a guy buying presents for his girl. Instead of navigating over crocodile pits and underground tunnels with snakes, it was based in a mall. Pitfall Harry had to navigate through pushy crowds, deranged Santas, prying BFFS and stores rife with traps. But that idea was shelved for being “too real”. And besides, who would want to buy a video game about shopping anyway? (And if they did, it would in fact count as that ‘lousy gift’.)
First, let’s set a few ground rules. No matter how long you have been dating Ms. Wonderful, realize her list is a trap. Sure, she will give you items that she wants. She can be very specific, and even assign you gifts that only you can get her. But the most important thing is the item that’s not written. Think of it as a test, because it is, bucko. The unwritten item on her list says one of two things. One; “I’ve been dropping hints about this for months now, and even though I didn’t write it down on this list, if you’ve been paying attention, you know I want it. Now prove to me you pay attention to me, and have it under the tree.” Or two; “Listen up, since you know me better than anyone else on this planet, there is one obvious item not on this list that you know I want. Now go prove your love, and go get it for me.” Either way, you’re pretty screwed, so good luck with that. My experience will give you a hint and tell you this item is not at any Pep Boys.
Secondly, it’s understood that you are not buying gifts for your girlfriend if you are married. If you find yourself in this situation, at least use cash. And don’t mess up sizes. Dead man walking. Let it also be understood that we are avoiding all the stereotypical blunders are being avoided for the sake of this article. No gym memberships/exercise stuff unless you plan to be sweating it out right next to her, Schwarzenegger. No lingerie. Just because it’s Xmas for you doesn’t mean she will dig the ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ or ‘Naughty Schoolgirl’ outfit you dig. Exception; if she does dig this stuff, then it is your manly duty to encourage her in this endeavor. Any cleaning items are expressly to be avoided. If you don’t buy a Swiffer for your sty, don’t buy one for her. Tools. Exception; she already said she will redo your bathroom. Anything you really want for yourself. It’s a bit too obvious when she opens up Madden 08 or cage fighting DVDs. Sex toys. That stuff is better for birthdays, anyway.
So remember, this is a test, and we’re looking to score points here. With that in mind, for my fellow brothers, I offer a list of things obvious and not so obvious to give your sweetie.
DVDS of her favorite shows/movies. While you may think you are scoring points buying her the latest season of Grey’s Anatomy or Desperate Housewives, remember she might actually want to watch these shows. With you. Maybe even twice; once just the show, then again with the commentary. Are you really prepared to spend the night with Brad Pitt or some guy named McDreamy? You better be prepared if you decide to go this route. And if this does happen to you, you have every right to make her watch cage fighting DVDs with you. You give to get.
Anything that is sold at the nearest convenience store. No, not even to “be funny”.
Anything she can easily buy for herself (especially if it’s a bad habit). So every time you go over to her apartment, there’s Diet Coke in the fridge, so you buy her a case or two. Wrong! You make think this makes you look observant, but to her this makes you look cheap. She’s addicted to coffee, so you buy her a pound. If she smokes, don’t encourage her by buying her a carton of her Slims. No no no no. Booze is a bit of a tough call. Just enough to enjoy or set the mood, but certainly not enough to have her vomit after an hour.
Anything that is alive. Geezoman, this is a big no no. Giving her anything bigger than a RoboPup shows her that a commitment must be coming soon. Giving her something exotic –say a lizard with a note saying ‘from your Lizard King’-’ is highly unadvised. The poor guy will be sewering before you know it. Unless a ring is in fact coming-think by Valentine’s Day-don’t do it. Even if she coos at every puppy she sees, don’t do it. Exception; Sea Monkeys. Sea Monkeys generally don’t last long, and landlords don’t bitch about them. You never hear couples breaking up bitching over who gets custody of the Sea Monkeys.
Anything with Jenna Jameson’s face on it. Yea, this is pretty obvious, but I just wanted to cover the bases here. Just because Jenna uses a trimmer doesn’t mean your girl will feel compelled to.
Perfume, etc. yea, I know this is quite popular, but also personal. You might think she smells good when she smells like vanilla, but she might think otherwise. Don’t fall for all the female celebrity scents out there. She may be a fan of Jennifer Lopez or Mariah Carey, it doesn’t mean she wants to smell like them. If your girl wants to smell like Britney, dump a few beers on her and you’re good to go.
Don’t give her a gift that if she doesn’t like she “can totally give it to her younger sister.”
Artwork/posters. I may not know your squeeze, but I do know she wouldn’t want the John Belushi ‘college’ poster to adorn her wall. Don’t pretend you get her tastes here. Yea, we both think a Rocky poster is iconic, but she probably doesn’t want it in her kitchen. No sculpture, no paintings (especially on black velvet) and unless you’re good, nothing from your artistic hand. However, be aware that if she does give you something handmade, you have to proclaim it the “best one of these things I have ever seen”.
Toys. No, not those toys. I mean actual Toys R Us toys. You may think it’s cute. She will think it’s creepy. You may have put much thought into your selections, but she will see you as either 1) a perv 2) immature 3) stealing stuff from your younger brother 4) cheap and unoriginal 5) a perv. Try to show some restraint here. But do feel free to buy all the cool toys you want for yourself. It’s not like she’s gonna buy them for you.
This is just a brief list of stuff not to buy. If you want the list of stuff you can buy for her, and then just ask her. Don’t stray too far from it. Yes, it’s boring and safe, but that’s the point. Remember, she’s probably going through the same thing to buy your stuff. Except, of course, you’re much easier to buy for.
Old People & Directions
Originally written 12/28/7
I guess as we grow older, we never continue or quest for more knowledge. About any subject. The older we get, the more we acquire, it turns into wisdom. And wisdom is what you leave behind to the next generation. Ah yes, older folks love to ask questions. And it hasn’t hit me until recently, that they crave directions. Got a story that involves multiple locations? Senior citizens will want turn by turn directions. I just don’t get it.
This point was driven home to me recently. Tara and I went to her parents house for a visit. When we got there, Jerry was there. Now Jerry really is a nice guy. Big laugh to match his big belly. He was in the Navy, was a cop, and still has the buzzcut to prove it. I do have to say he’s contributed more to society than my lazy ass has.
So it’s Jerry, my parents-in-law and us in the kitchen. Jerry likes to talk. He talks loud, and he has a lot of stories from the “good ol’ days”. One story revolved around him dropping off crabs to some friends’ houses. And that is when this point hit me. He vividly described how he went to the first house. “Aw, Jimmy’s house was up there on Torresdale. Ya had to make the left from so and so, go down a few miles and make the right by the…whatcha callit? It used to be the Tap bar, but now it’s some (hands in the air, middle finger rubbing his thumb like he’s pulling the answer from the air, flick, flick,flick)…clothes shop or tailor or something? Anyway, you made the left there, go down 2 blocks, and he was on the left. Schmiddty used to live right past him there.
“So then I had to go to Donny Mac’s. And, Christ, back then, he lived with that woman-what was her name (finger and thumb rubbing again)Helen? Helaine? Lorraine? Aw, Christ, you know the one, she had red hair and talked with an accent? Had the funny eye? Anyway, now I had to go clear across town. So Donny Mac (there is always someone in this story named “Mac”) was livin’ in Mayfair, so now I gotta go all the way over there. So, you know, I’m taking so-&so-street. Now back then, that road was only 2 lane, now it’s of course it’s 4 with all kinds of traffic. Donny lived all the way back off the main road. So ya hadda make the right by the…Christ, it used to be the barber shop. You know which one I’m talking about? The one Phil used to get his haircut at? So, yea, ya make the right there, and you’re on Bustelton for like 2 miles. Ya made another right, and he lived all the way back there. Christ (old guys sure do use profanity a lot), that’s Mayfair, right?
“Well, geez, that neighborhood sure has changed. Aw, Donny Mac is rollin’ over in his grave is he saw who’s living in his house now. Yeeaahhh, you kidding me? So from Donny Mac’s, I gotta drop the rest of these damn crabs off ta Danny’s. (Jerry is one of those guys that adds a –y to every name. Donny, Jimmy, Danny, etc) And he wants ‘em before 9. Well, Christ, it’s already 8:30, there’s no way in hell I’m geddin’ there before 9. So I take the shortcut out ta so-and-so drive, hightail it over Main, and get there 5 after. And he’s givin’ me shit!”
OK, so that’s not verbatim, but I think you get the point. And the whole time my in laws have this truly inquisitive looks on their faces like Jerry is telling them words from God’s mouth. And this isn’t even relevant to the story! Good lord.
Once is a fluke, but twice is a pattern, and sure enough, I see this again. In a later story, Jerry gives a lengthy monologue about how to get to his daughter’s house. Turn. By. Turn. And sure enough, there’s my in-laws, paying rapt attention, like these were the directions to the Fountain of Youth. “Aw, yea, Christ (again with the profanity), Will, ya take 309 all the way down. You know they’re doing construction all along there, right? Jesus, it’s all fucked up now, you kiddin’ me? So ya take that all the way past Quakertown…” My father in law interrupts. I don’t know if he does it to break up the monologue, or he is genuinely entranced by this story. “Past Montgomeryville?” “Aw, Jesus, yea,” Jerry bellows ,”you go through Montgomeryville, right through it. You’re on there a good 20 minutes. So you get to such and such farm. I mean, cripes, it’s all fucking farms up there. Well, you pass those farms, you get to another place that used to be a farm (again, we’re getting directions based on where stuff used to be. I don’t think Google maps gives directions like “make a left by where the German pig farm used to be”). You remember that place, Will? It was like a German pig farm?” My FIL takes a breath as if to say something, but Jerry barges right on. “I think it was a pig farm run by the Germans. Hanselschmidts? Kleinhaffners? Anyway, they’re not there anymore. All gone, fer Chrissakes. They used to all be farms back there. A lot of acres. Well, anyway, they (there is always a very anonymous and somewhat evil sounding vague ‘they’ in these stories) ripped all that down to shit. Put up real nice townhomes. You kidding me? (No, no one was, because they can’t get a damn word in edgewise) Real nice development up there now. Anyway, she’s in one of them now, real nice place.”
The whole time, there are my in-laws, taking down mental notes. You know, in case they ever have to suddenly visit Jerry’s daughter, and Jerry is not around to give them directions. I mean it was nuts how intense they looked. Maybe it was some sort of hidden conversation under the guise of directions that us young folk just don’t understand.
Otherwise, it baffles me how into directions to places they will never go seniors are into. I see it now in my own parents. If you need to fatten up a story, add a pointless 20 minutes with directions, and you have them entranced. I mean, c’mon, it’s not like most seniors are apt to hop right into the car and drive to a faraway destination. Most seniors I know barely leave the house, so it mystifies my how into directions they are. To places they will never go to.
I guess as we grow older, we never continue or quest for more knowledge. About any subject. The older we get, the more we acquire, it turns into wisdom. And wisdom is what you leave behind to the next generation. Ah yes, older folks love to ask questions. And it hasn’t hit me until recently, that they crave directions. Got a story that involves multiple locations? Senior citizens will want turn by turn directions. I just don’t get it.
This point was driven home to me recently. Tara and I went to her parents house for a visit. When we got there, Jerry was there. Now Jerry really is a nice guy. Big laugh to match his big belly. He was in the Navy, was a cop, and still has the buzzcut to prove it. I do have to say he’s contributed more to society than my lazy ass has.
So it’s Jerry, my parents-in-law and us in the kitchen. Jerry likes to talk. He talks loud, and he has a lot of stories from the “good ol’ days”. One story revolved around him dropping off crabs to some friends’ houses. And that is when this point hit me. He vividly described how he went to the first house. “Aw, Jimmy’s house was up there on Torresdale. Ya had to make the left from so and so, go down a few miles and make the right by the…whatcha callit? It used to be the Tap bar, but now it’s some (hands in the air, middle finger rubbing his thumb like he’s pulling the answer from the air, flick, flick,flick)…clothes shop or tailor or something? Anyway, you made the left there, go down 2 blocks, and he was on the left. Schmiddty used to live right past him there.
“So then I had to go to Donny Mac’s. And, Christ, back then, he lived with that woman-what was her name (finger and thumb rubbing again)Helen? Helaine? Lorraine? Aw, Christ, you know the one, she had red hair and talked with an accent? Had the funny eye? Anyway, now I had to go clear across town. So Donny Mac (there is always someone in this story named “Mac”) was livin’ in Mayfair, so now I gotta go all the way over there. So, you know, I’m taking so-&so-street. Now back then, that road was only 2 lane, now it’s of course it’s 4 with all kinds of traffic. Donny lived all the way back off the main road. So ya hadda make the right by the…Christ, it used to be the barber shop. You know which one I’m talking about? The one Phil used to get his haircut at? So, yea, ya make the right there, and you’re on Bustelton for like 2 miles. Ya made another right, and he lived all the way back there. Christ (old guys sure do use profanity a lot), that’s Mayfair, right?
“Well, geez, that neighborhood sure has changed. Aw, Donny Mac is rollin’ over in his grave is he saw who’s living in his house now. Yeeaahhh, you kidding me? So from Donny Mac’s, I gotta drop the rest of these damn crabs off ta Danny’s. (Jerry is one of those guys that adds a –y to every name. Donny, Jimmy, Danny, etc) And he wants ‘em before 9. Well, Christ, it’s already 8:30, there’s no way in hell I’m geddin’ there before 9. So I take the shortcut out ta so-and-so drive, hightail it over Main, and get there 5 after. And he’s givin’ me shit!”
OK, so that’s not verbatim, but I think you get the point. And the whole time my in laws have this truly inquisitive looks on their faces like Jerry is telling them words from God’s mouth. And this isn’t even relevant to the story! Good lord.
Once is a fluke, but twice is a pattern, and sure enough, I see this again. In a later story, Jerry gives a lengthy monologue about how to get to his daughter’s house. Turn. By. Turn. And sure enough, there’s my in-laws, paying rapt attention, like these were the directions to the Fountain of Youth. “Aw, yea, Christ (again with the profanity), Will, ya take 309 all the way down. You know they’re doing construction all along there, right? Jesus, it’s all fucked up now, you kiddin’ me? So ya take that all the way past Quakertown…” My father in law interrupts. I don’t know if he does it to break up the monologue, or he is genuinely entranced by this story. “Past Montgomeryville?” “Aw, Jesus, yea,” Jerry bellows ,”you go through Montgomeryville, right through it. You’re on there a good 20 minutes. So you get to such and such farm. I mean, cripes, it’s all fucking farms up there. Well, you pass those farms, you get to another place that used to be a farm (again, we’re getting directions based on where stuff used to be. I don’t think Google maps gives directions like “make a left by where the German pig farm used to be”). You remember that place, Will? It was like a German pig farm?” My FIL takes a breath as if to say something, but Jerry barges right on. “I think it was a pig farm run by the Germans. Hanselschmidts? Kleinhaffners? Anyway, they’re not there anymore. All gone, fer Chrissakes. They used to all be farms back there. A lot of acres. Well, anyway, they (there is always a very anonymous and somewhat evil sounding vague ‘they’ in these stories) ripped all that down to shit. Put up real nice townhomes. You kidding me? (No, no one was, because they can’t get a damn word in edgewise) Real nice development up there now. Anyway, she’s in one of them now, real nice place.”
The whole time, there are my in-laws, taking down mental notes. You know, in case they ever have to suddenly visit Jerry’s daughter, and Jerry is not around to give them directions. I mean it was nuts how intense they looked. Maybe it was some sort of hidden conversation under the guise of directions that us young folk just don’t understand.
Otherwise, it baffles me how into directions to places they will never go seniors are into. I see it now in my own parents. If you need to fatten up a story, add a pointless 20 minutes with directions, and you have them entranced. I mean, c’mon, it’s not like most seniors are apt to hop right into the car and drive to a faraway destination. Most seniors I know barely leave the house, so it mystifies my how into directions they are. To places they will never go to.
New Years Resolutions
Originally written 12/26/7
Yes, while the more astute (look it up) among you might be thinking “geez, Kevolution Theory sure is writing a lot about holidays. It’s almost like he’s having writers’ block, and for inspiration, he looks to the calendar for inspiration. Man, sure can’t wait for his Arbor Day post.” this is not that kind of post. Instead, think of it more along the lines of expose (the article, not the girl band from the late 80s early 90s) or even friendly advice. Yes, I like to look out for my readership, in one day of hopes of breaking the elusive 15 friends barrier. This is the time of year most look to better themselves. They look to make these things called ‘resolutions’, whereby if they follow these self imposed new rules or practices, they will thereby achieve personal nirvana. Common resolution run along the lines of losing weight, reading more, spending more time with family, being more patient, getting less drunk, being nicer, etc. I think you get the point.
Here’s the truth about New Years’ resolutions; more times than not they are a crock, and you set yourself up for failure. Let’s break it down a bit.
Scientific studies (and by that I mean based on my own general opinion) show that you are more likely to break a NYR than a resolution you make at any other time. Think about it. Is there any real difference between making a resolution on Jan 1 or Feb 23? May 16? Aug 24? No. Many suckers fall for the ‘new year, new me’ routine. This is flawed, as I will later discuss. Sure, it’s slightly harder to calculate your progress on a resolution if you start at a date such as April 6 than Jan 1. But chances are you will be much more clear headed on April 6 than Jan 1. In fact, I can make the argument that resolutions that are made Jan 1 are easier to break because you don’t give yourself a clear enough shot to start them.
First of all, by deciding you will do a few NYR, you set yourself up for failure the rest of this year. You will develop the mentality of “you know I’ll just eat a few more cannoli’s and a few more bottles of Jack because next year I will work this all off.” You give yourself a week to splurge on your weaknesses, because you think you will suddenly be the ideal person come Jan 1. I think I know my readership well enough to paint the picture of our typical experience when we wake up on Jan 1. We are on someone’s floor. The floor seems to be spinning and hitting potholes. The dog-good god, I hope that’s the dog-is licking off leftover wing sauce from my face. The blanket I thought I crawled under is really the throw rug. What I thought was the pillow is really shaving cream and silly string. What I thought was the toilet last night was actually the answering machine. What I thought was vomit on my shirt is, well, it actually is vomit. Hmm, where’s the dog now? Is this any shape to start your New Years’ Resolution?
Clearly, no, it is not. Unless your NYR is to be a bump on the log and watch TV till 7 AM the next day. Certainly, this is no way to start the road to a better you. But all is not lost. What would Kevolution Theory be if I didn’t offer you at least a few solutions to helping you achieve your goals?
Wanna lose some weight? Hang out with fatter friends. Or at least fatten up your current ones. Wanna drink less? Hang out with people who drink more. Hell, they might even get drunk and buy you drinks. Wanna read more? Than stop by this here page. Wanna get a new job? Well, I can’t help ya out there, sport.
So in conclusion, do not make any NYR till at least Jan 3, if you must. Other than that, remember you are better off, and it’s easier, to just start something new on Jan 3. Or do what I do. Don’t make any at all. It’s easy to keep, and you feel better when you do.
Yes, while the more astute (look it up) among you might be thinking “geez, Kevolution Theory sure is writing a lot about holidays. It’s almost like he’s having writers’ block, and for inspiration, he looks to the calendar for inspiration. Man, sure can’t wait for his Arbor Day post.” this is not that kind of post. Instead, think of it more along the lines of expose (the article, not the girl band from the late 80s early 90s) or even friendly advice. Yes, I like to look out for my readership, in one day of hopes of breaking the elusive 15 friends barrier. This is the time of year most look to better themselves. They look to make these things called ‘resolutions’, whereby if they follow these self imposed new rules or practices, they will thereby achieve personal nirvana. Common resolution run along the lines of losing weight, reading more, spending more time with family, being more patient, getting less drunk, being nicer, etc. I think you get the point.
Here’s the truth about New Years’ resolutions; more times than not they are a crock, and you set yourself up for failure. Let’s break it down a bit.
Scientific studies (and by that I mean based on my own general opinion) show that you are more likely to break a NYR than a resolution you make at any other time. Think about it. Is there any real difference between making a resolution on Jan 1 or Feb 23? May 16? Aug 24? No. Many suckers fall for the ‘new year, new me’ routine. This is flawed, as I will later discuss. Sure, it’s slightly harder to calculate your progress on a resolution if you start at a date such as April 6 than Jan 1. But chances are you will be much more clear headed on April 6 than Jan 1. In fact, I can make the argument that resolutions that are made Jan 1 are easier to break because you don’t give yourself a clear enough shot to start them.
First of all, by deciding you will do a few NYR, you set yourself up for failure the rest of this year. You will develop the mentality of “you know I’ll just eat a few more cannoli’s and a few more bottles of Jack because next year I will work this all off.” You give yourself a week to splurge on your weaknesses, because you think you will suddenly be the ideal person come Jan 1. I think I know my readership well enough to paint the picture of our typical experience when we wake up on Jan 1. We are on someone’s floor. The floor seems to be spinning and hitting potholes. The dog-good god, I hope that’s the dog-is licking off leftover wing sauce from my face. The blanket I thought I crawled under is really the throw rug. What I thought was the pillow is really shaving cream and silly string. What I thought was the toilet last night was actually the answering machine. What I thought was vomit on my shirt is, well, it actually is vomit. Hmm, where’s the dog now? Is this any shape to start your New Years’ Resolution?
Clearly, no, it is not. Unless your NYR is to be a bump on the log and watch TV till 7 AM the next day. Certainly, this is no way to start the road to a better you. But all is not lost. What would Kevolution Theory be if I didn’t offer you at least a few solutions to helping you achieve your goals?
Wanna lose some weight? Hang out with fatter friends. Or at least fatten up your current ones. Wanna drink less? Hang out with people who drink more. Hell, they might even get drunk and buy you drinks. Wanna read more? Than stop by this here page. Wanna get a new job? Well, I can’t help ya out there, sport.
So in conclusion, do not make any NYR till at least Jan 3, if you must. Other than that, remember you are better off, and it’s easier, to just start something new on Jan 3. Or do what I do. Don’t make any at all. It’s easy to keep, and you feel better when you do.
Lucky
Originally written 12/20/7
It’s funny how you need the lows to appreciate the highs. Hell, even to appreciate the plateaus. Right now is not the highest time for me. Take away that it’s Xmas and all. Just in general. I feel lower than a snake’s belly. Lower than anyone who got a Milli Vanilli tattoo. Lower than the brain dead turds I see working in Target these days. The ego’s been taking a bit of a blow these last few months. It’s easy to get down on yourself. I know the unemployment life seems glamorous. I mean, what do I have to worry about? It could be worse, I could actually be working. Well, fact of the matter, I am very, very tired of this unemployment grind. It’s the same damn thing every day. Sit down in front of a PC, and spend hours here, wondering just what it really is I am accomplishing. Hmm..that kinda sounds like when I was working at WEA (zing! Sorry had to do it.)
I totally get how easy it is to say “what the fuck” and not even bother. It’s depressing, it’s a bummer, it’s a reality check, and it gets even more depressing. I get why one of the stereotypes of unemployment is being a boozer. It makes sense now. Drinkin’ is escapin’. It releases endorphins or something like that- and that may well be the only euphoria you get after trolling want ads all day. It’s a jungle out there, and I totally get how that can play with a weak mind. Couple that with the jolliness of Xmas, and it’s no wonder suicide rates go up during the holidays. But I slap a happy face on-even though there are times I want to slap somebody else’s happy face off. My cynicism knows no boundaries this time of the year. The dark side is in overdrive.
Through it all, I am starting to realize something that I have been taking for granted a bit too long.
I am pretty damn lucky.
One of the things I learned working for WEA was how to be cheap. And to use every last thing you got. While my unemployment benefits are just about kaput, I did hold onto a lot of my package money, so the financial blow isn’t that dire right now. And I did realize that working in the music biz wouldn’t last forever, so I learned how to live within my means and save whatever I could.
I’m lucky that my wife is there for me. She knows how to not be overbearing, whole still being able to offer ideas and inspiration. Sadly, she still doesn’t see my logic in her picking up a part time job. Whatever. But she does steal me all the glue I can sniff from her job. I am lucky in that my friends have been far more understanding that I ever gave ‘em credit for (yes, even the ones that don’t read this, too) I am lucky that my friends have stood by me, been extremely gracious to my situation, and don’t call me “unemployed, drunken lout” Well, at least not to my face anyway. Or maybe I was too drunk to remember.
We’re basically not doing Xmas this year. While that really is a blessing, Grinch that I still am, it is a bit of a downer. I still say shopping is a fucking bitch. I have one friend who is so organized when it came to his Xmas list. Not only would he get it out early, he made sure he gave a different list to everyone so he didn’t have to worry about getting duplicate gifts. That’s the way to go. Even still, and I don’t know about you dear readers, but even when I get a list from someone, I always felt as though there was one last unwritten item. You didn’t see it on the list, but you felt that it was there. And it basically said “Listen up, fuckwad, since you know me so good, there is one obvious item on this list that you know I want. Now go prove your friendship, and go get it for me.”
So we’re just doing small stuff. I know I’m getting a book and a DVD. I know about the DVD because I saw it, bought it, and told her it was her gift to me. That’s pretty damn nice, right? So from the above paragraph, I am now struggling with getting her such stuff. I’ve gotten her a coupla good things so far, but need more. We each think the other one is extremely difficult to buy for, while secretly thinking to ourselves about how easy we are to buy for.
And I guess it kinda got me to the point that, fuck it, I really do have everything I need. As you get older, there is a tendency to put more stuff you ‘need’ than stuff you’d ‘want’ on your list. I always fought that. I put 1 or 2 necessary things, then the rest was fun stuff I wanted. Box sets, DVDs, games, etc. Stuff I might not buy for myself, but definitely ‘wanted’. I look around my office now, and see box sets I ‘wanted’ that are still shrink wrapped. Yea, 100 million Bon Jovi fans may not be wrong, but here’s one that hasn’t even listened to the whole damn box set yet. I know of seemingly a dozen DVD sets downstairs that I have never watched. Sure, it’s all stuff I ‘want’ and fully intend to one day go through, (before DVDs become obsolete) but isn’t that a message when that stuff just sits unused every year? If I ‘wanted’ it that bad, I would have cracked into it by now. In some ways, Xmas have really kinda gotten to be “buy me stuff I might or might not want, that I might or might not use any time soon. But I do still want it, and will stare at it daily.”
This year I’ll get more socks and underwear, and really appreciate it because it will extend the amount of days I have to do my wash. I will get a DVD and book that I want. Anything else on top of that is icing on the cake. That may go uneaten for years.
It could be worse. I could have been in that family that had nothing better to do than to wander off in the forest to cut down their own Xmas tree and got lost for 2 days. Seriously, what the fuck? Could you imagine a worse way to die? And how could the rest of your family ever celebrate Xmas again? Every time they saw a tree, they would be reminded of how their motarded kin died while looking to cut down their own Xmas tree. How could they ever put up a Xmas tree? Don’t they have street corners out there, where they sell trees already cut? Was I the only one rooting for Darwin here? It turns out the family made it. I believe it was a dad and his young daughters. You know right know there’s a big red hand mark on the wife’s head, from repeated slapping and saying “why the hell did I let him do that with the kids?” Cripes, and I was bitching about going to the VFW to get ours.
I really do have everything I could want. The chick, the house, the dog. OK, so I still need The Job. But I have family and friends that I will spend the holidays with, who will make me laugh and forget about the jobless thing for a while. (And if they don’t the booze sure will.) I have a house to invite friends over to during the holidays. It’s not the biggest house. But there’s still plenty of room for years and years of presents that I ‘want’.
If I don’t post until then, Merry Xmas and a continued Happy Hallowmas.
It’s funny how you need the lows to appreciate the highs. Hell, even to appreciate the plateaus. Right now is not the highest time for me. Take away that it’s Xmas and all. Just in general. I feel lower than a snake’s belly. Lower than anyone who got a Milli Vanilli tattoo. Lower than the brain dead turds I see working in Target these days. The ego’s been taking a bit of a blow these last few months. It’s easy to get down on yourself. I know the unemployment life seems glamorous. I mean, what do I have to worry about? It could be worse, I could actually be working. Well, fact of the matter, I am very, very tired of this unemployment grind. It’s the same damn thing every day. Sit down in front of a PC, and spend hours here, wondering just what it really is I am accomplishing. Hmm..that kinda sounds like when I was working at WEA (zing! Sorry had to do it.)
I totally get how easy it is to say “what the fuck” and not even bother. It’s depressing, it’s a bummer, it’s a reality check, and it gets even more depressing. I get why one of the stereotypes of unemployment is being a boozer. It makes sense now. Drinkin’ is escapin’. It releases endorphins or something like that- and that may well be the only euphoria you get after trolling want ads all day. It’s a jungle out there, and I totally get how that can play with a weak mind. Couple that with the jolliness of Xmas, and it’s no wonder suicide rates go up during the holidays. But I slap a happy face on-even though there are times I want to slap somebody else’s happy face off. My cynicism knows no boundaries this time of the year. The dark side is in overdrive.
Through it all, I am starting to realize something that I have been taking for granted a bit too long.
I am pretty damn lucky.
One of the things I learned working for WEA was how to be cheap. And to use every last thing you got. While my unemployment benefits are just about kaput, I did hold onto a lot of my package money, so the financial blow isn’t that dire right now. And I did realize that working in the music biz wouldn’t last forever, so I learned how to live within my means and save whatever I could.
I’m lucky that my wife is there for me. She knows how to not be overbearing, whole still being able to offer ideas and inspiration. Sadly, she still doesn’t see my logic in her picking up a part time job. Whatever. But she does steal me all the glue I can sniff from her job. I am lucky in that my friends have been far more understanding that I ever gave ‘em credit for (yes, even the ones that don’t read this, too) I am lucky that my friends have stood by me, been extremely gracious to my situation, and don’t call me “unemployed, drunken lout” Well, at least not to my face anyway. Or maybe I was too drunk to remember.
We’re basically not doing Xmas this year. While that really is a blessing, Grinch that I still am, it is a bit of a downer. I still say shopping is a fucking bitch. I have one friend who is so organized when it came to his Xmas list. Not only would he get it out early, he made sure he gave a different list to everyone so he didn’t have to worry about getting duplicate gifts. That’s the way to go. Even still, and I don’t know about you dear readers, but even when I get a list from someone, I always felt as though there was one last unwritten item. You didn’t see it on the list, but you felt that it was there. And it basically said “Listen up, fuckwad, since you know me so good, there is one obvious item on this list that you know I want. Now go prove your friendship, and go get it for me.”
So we’re just doing small stuff. I know I’m getting a book and a DVD. I know about the DVD because I saw it, bought it, and told her it was her gift to me. That’s pretty damn nice, right? So from the above paragraph, I am now struggling with getting her such stuff. I’ve gotten her a coupla good things so far, but need more. We each think the other one is extremely difficult to buy for, while secretly thinking to ourselves about how easy we are to buy for.
And I guess it kinda got me to the point that, fuck it, I really do have everything I need. As you get older, there is a tendency to put more stuff you ‘need’ than stuff you’d ‘want’ on your list. I always fought that. I put 1 or 2 necessary things, then the rest was fun stuff I wanted. Box sets, DVDs, games, etc. Stuff I might not buy for myself, but definitely ‘wanted’. I look around my office now, and see box sets I ‘wanted’ that are still shrink wrapped. Yea, 100 million Bon Jovi fans may not be wrong, but here’s one that hasn’t even listened to the whole damn box set yet. I know of seemingly a dozen DVD sets downstairs that I have never watched. Sure, it’s all stuff I ‘want’ and fully intend to one day go through, (before DVDs become obsolete) but isn’t that a message when that stuff just sits unused every year? If I ‘wanted’ it that bad, I would have cracked into it by now. In some ways, Xmas have really kinda gotten to be “buy me stuff I might or might not want, that I might or might not use any time soon. But I do still want it, and will stare at it daily.”
This year I’ll get more socks and underwear, and really appreciate it because it will extend the amount of days I have to do my wash. I will get a DVD and book that I want. Anything else on top of that is icing on the cake. That may go uneaten for years.
It could be worse. I could have been in that family that had nothing better to do than to wander off in the forest to cut down their own Xmas tree and got lost for 2 days. Seriously, what the fuck? Could you imagine a worse way to die? And how could the rest of your family ever celebrate Xmas again? Every time they saw a tree, they would be reminded of how their motarded kin died while looking to cut down their own Xmas tree. How could they ever put up a Xmas tree? Don’t they have street corners out there, where they sell trees already cut? Was I the only one rooting for Darwin here? It turns out the family made it. I believe it was a dad and his young daughters. You know right know there’s a big red hand mark on the wife’s head, from repeated slapping and saying “why the hell did I let him do that with the kids?” Cripes, and I was bitching about going to the VFW to get ours.
I really do have everything I could want. The chick, the house, the dog. OK, so I still need The Job. But I have family and friends that I will spend the holidays with, who will make me laugh and forget about the jobless thing for a while. (And if they don’t the booze sure will.) I have a house to invite friends over to during the holidays. It’s not the biggest house. But there’s still plenty of room for years and years of presents that I ‘want’.
If I don’t post until then, Merry Xmas and a continued Happy Hallowmas.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Dark
Originally written 12/12/7
It’s funny when and where you get one of those sudden, massive realizations about yourself. When all of a sudden, a gihugic light goes on (or off in my case), you realize something, and it’s like all these disparate issues and episodes you’ve had line up and make coherent sense. I mean this is the shit suckers pay thousands of dollars to shrinks to discover about themselves. And I had one. For free, which is big these days. While, of all things, I was actually Xmas shopping.
I am a dark soul. Really, really dark.
I revel in other people’s misery. Certainly not friends or family, but in general. I get off on negative energy. I am happy when others are miserable. I don’t know that I can tell you why, but I do have many cases as proof.
Exhibit A. I hate Xmas. So what better place to have this epiphany than while Xmas shopping? I was miserable all ready. I was one of those losers who got to the mall like 15 minutes after it opened. I just wanted to get this out of the way. For once, trolling for a job would be the second most depressing thing I do. I looked around at all the lights, shiny decorations, Santa’s village, generic Xmas music in the climate controlled air. Now contrast that generally happy and bright scene with dozens of shoppers, scurrying about. No one looked happy. No one looked thrilled. Kids in strollers were screaming. Moms were stressed. Guys wandering around, bumping off walls, lost in thought about what dafuck to get their girl. Employees looked empty and drained as they restocked their shelves with yet more crap destined for some fool. It should be the happiest time of the year, but I didn’t see that in the faces I saw.
OK, so most rational people hate shopping. And there are other issues with the holidays as well. Still, generally, people look forward to it. They do get happy. And that just pisses me off. How the hell can I be happy when I see all these happy idiots? Fools, they don’t even know they should be miserable. I think they’re kidding themselves. They’re not wise like me. Nah ah. So I guess it turns out that I hate Xmas because all these motards seem to love it. So I can’t be happy during Xmas.
Look at a lot of my fave Xmas songs. A lot of them are on the slow/mellow side
Exhibit B. I hate Philly sports teams. For years and years, I have chided every Philly sports fan I know. I think they’re all ignorant. I think they’re all stupid. I think they’re all posers and homers. I think they don’t realize there actually are other hockey or football teams in other cities that might be better than the hometown team. Ah, yes, this whole darkness thing is starting to make more sense now. Can you think of any other city whose sports fans have to be miserable as Philly’s? They haven’t won a major championship since 83. Most ‘sports fans’ seem to not realize that most of Philly’s b-level teams have piled up the Championships. My beloved Wings have 6 Championships in 22 seasons. The Phantoms have won titles. The Barrage has won a championship. The Kix won a championship. Hell, I think some of the women’s teams here have won their league. But, no, most ignorant stick and ballers are too close minded to notice anything outside the big 4. Let’s look at the Eagles for a minute. Do you realize how many hearts they have broken? 4 NFC Championships, 1 Super Bowl appearance, but no wins. They’ve been tantalizingly close a few times, only to lose in the big one.
I personally have taken great joy watching them blow it again this year. God, how the fans here-of course who are all experts, and could run any team better-want Donovan’s head, they want Reid’s head, etc. Man, o man, did I torture my father in law during that Patriots game. I get a perverse joy listening to the sports talk station here on a Monday after the Iggles lose. O, to hear the callers rage. To hear the hosts fumble. Everyone is so pissed, and just can’t grasp that the Beagles regularly get beaten by better teams.
To wit the Eagles story, the year they lost the Super Bowl, we were at a friend’s house, watching the game. The Birds lose-any surprise?-and there’s a bit of a commotion outside, as a few Eagles fans are loudly commiserating their demise. At this point in my night, I had a few, and won a good deal of money. I was full of myself-any surprise, again?-and went outside and yelled how the Eagles suck ass. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. It’s the neighbor, who is an Eagles’ fan. And has a gun. Absolutely true story. My friends moved out of that neighborhood shortly thereafter.
How can you even be a Phillies fan? They haven’t been in the Series since 93? This year, they finally got back in the playoffs. The city was awash in red. They had tens of thousands of bandwagon jumpers attend a rally at City Hall. After breaking their fans’ hearts the last few years with late season collapses, the guys in red finally made it. Then guess what happened? They won just as many playoff games as I did this year. Yup, zero. The city rose and crashed in less than a week. Suddenly, all those “hard to find” playoff and “team to beat” shirts were 3 for a dollar at Modell’s. But, man, o, man, did I enjoy watching the collapse. Why? Because I am a smarter sports fan? Well, maybe. But mostly, I loved watching these idiots be crushed. I felt alive.
Do you know how thrilled and obnoxious I was when my Avalanche beat the Flyers last week?
Exhibit C. Other reps. When I was working, I openly slagged them in the Missile newsletter. I put the mouth on them in the stores. They were the butt of many, many jokes. Why? Well, because I honestly thought most of them didn’t work as hard as me. And also because they were the competition. I wanted to piss them off. I wanted to make them miserable. I wanted them to be miffed when they walked into a store and saw none of their displays were up; it was all WEA. If they were miserable, then I knew I did my job.
Exhibit D. Opposites attract. Tara is one of the purest hearts and brightest lights I have ever known.
Exhibit E. My TV habits. Lots of violence. Cops is a great show to watch, and it makes me feel better about myself since I see drunken trash at their lowest, and thereby funniest. I can’t get enough of cops beating down some coke addict. I get all fuzzy inside. Intervention, which is better to watch with a few drinks in ya. Prison shows. UFC. 24. I can watch Funniest Home Videos, and laugh at loud at people falling. Falling off a bike, falling out of a tree, falling off of a trampoline, falling of a chair, etc. I am on the floor.
Exhibit F. My love of Halloween. Specifically all the gross and macabre stuff. I can’t get enough of AMC’s annual MonsterFest, and other classic B&W movies on late at night and weekends. Add the fact that I actually like to scare the kids. Remember those 4 poor girls that I made cry? Yea, that’s a good example right there. My love of Halloween and hatred of Xmas led me to create my own bastard holiday to piss all over Xmas revelers with my Halloween obsession.
Exhibit G. (And yes I know I could have organized this for a bit better flow, but this is all stream of consciousness.) My idea for an awesome movie. Yes, it’s Xmas related. It’s called either Santa Killer or Santa Assassin. Both titles have their charm, no? I haven’t actually bothered to write the whole thing out yet, but here’s the basic summary. There’s a guy, who looks nothing like the guy from Nickleback, who is sick of Xmas. He doesn’t like the consumerism. He doesn’t like the music, the hassle, the fakeness of it all. He decides to do everyone a favor, and get rid of Xmas. What is the best way to do it? By getting rid of the fat guy in the suit. So our hero goes to various malls to discreetly kill all the Santas. Here’s the one scene I have fleshed out.
We see little Timmy hop up on Santa’s lap. The Nutcracker Suite is softly in the background. The camera closes in so we just see Timmy’s face, and the bottom part of Santa’s long white beard. The camera never moves from here. Timmy starts telling Santa what he wants. At about the 3rd or 4th toy, we hear a soft pop from above stage right. There are muffled gasps from the unseen crowd. Timmy keeps rattling things off, looking straight into the camera. We hear unseen cell phones being opened and used. Slowly, trails of red stain Santa’s white beard. Still wide eyed and oblivious, Timmy slowly looks up to see why Santa isn’t responding. The blood continues to run down. Timmy looks up, then slowly looks back to the camera and says “…um…Mommy, does this mean I don’t get the Big Wheel?”
So as the movie goes on, our hero has a harder and harder time killing Santas. At the same time, he also becomes a cult hero. It turns out more and more people sympathize with our hero. I don’t have the ending figured out yet, but rest assured, there would be sequels. Yea, that’s dark.
Exhibit H. When I check out books from the library, I read them till the end, then write the ending on the third page to piss off the next guy.
Exhibit I. Last night, we took Bauer to PetSmart to buy some food. While there, we ran into a friend and her dog. So we let the dogs play together for a bit in the store. And while playing, the other dog peed and pooped in the store. And it wasn’t just a regular poop. It was like there was hot Tootsie Roll just continually plopping on the floor. And I just laughed, and laughed and laughed. It was so bad, I got on the phone to call her sister and tell her the dog took a wicked shit in the store. Now, that’s just mean. Funny, but mean. But laughing at friends’ poopy misfortune? That’s kinda dark.
So I feel better now. I am comforted in the knowledge that most great writers have a tremendous dark side, so it can be a great source of inspiration and material. I’m off to egg the orphanage.
Keep it dark.
It’s funny when and where you get one of those sudden, massive realizations about yourself. When all of a sudden, a gihugic light goes on (or off in my case), you realize something, and it’s like all these disparate issues and episodes you’ve had line up and make coherent sense. I mean this is the shit suckers pay thousands of dollars to shrinks to discover about themselves. And I had one. For free, which is big these days. While, of all things, I was actually Xmas shopping.
I am a dark soul. Really, really dark.
I revel in other people’s misery. Certainly not friends or family, but in general. I get off on negative energy. I am happy when others are miserable. I don’t know that I can tell you why, but I do have many cases as proof.
Exhibit A. I hate Xmas. So what better place to have this epiphany than while Xmas shopping? I was miserable all ready. I was one of those losers who got to the mall like 15 minutes after it opened. I just wanted to get this out of the way. For once, trolling for a job would be the second most depressing thing I do. I looked around at all the lights, shiny decorations, Santa’s village, generic Xmas music in the climate controlled air. Now contrast that generally happy and bright scene with dozens of shoppers, scurrying about. No one looked happy. No one looked thrilled. Kids in strollers were screaming. Moms were stressed. Guys wandering around, bumping off walls, lost in thought about what dafuck to get their girl. Employees looked empty and drained as they restocked their shelves with yet more crap destined for some fool. It should be the happiest time of the year, but I didn’t see that in the faces I saw.
OK, so most rational people hate shopping. And there are other issues with the holidays as well. Still, generally, people look forward to it. They do get happy. And that just pisses me off. How the hell can I be happy when I see all these happy idiots? Fools, they don’t even know they should be miserable. I think they’re kidding themselves. They’re not wise like me. Nah ah. So I guess it turns out that I hate Xmas because all these motards seem to love it. So I can’t be happy during Xmas.
Look at a lot of my fave Xmas songs. A lot of them are on the slow/mellow side
Exhibit B. I hate Philly sports teams. For years and years, I have chided every Philly sports fan I know. I think they’re all ignorant. I think they’re all stupid. I think they’re all posers and homers. I think they don’t realize there actually are other hockey or football teams in other cities that might be better than the hometown team. Ah, yes, this whole darkness thing is starting to make more sense now. Can you think of any other city whose sports fans have to be miserable as Philly’s? They haven’t won a major championship since 83. Most ‘sports fans’ seem to not realize that most of Philly’s b-level teams have piled up the Championships. My beloved Wings have 6 Championships in 22 seasons. The Phantoms have won titles. The Barrage has won a championship. The Kix won a championship. Hell, I think some of the women’s teams here have won their league. But, no, most ignorant stick and ballers are too close minded to notice anything outside the big 4. Let’s look at the Eagles for a minute. Do you realize how many hearts they have broken? 4 NFC Championships, 1 Super Bowl appearance, but no wins. They’ve been tantalizingly close a few times, only to lose in the big one.
I personally have taken great joy watching them blow it again this year. God, how the fans here-of course who are all experts, and could run any team better-want Donovan’s head, they want Reid’s head, etc. Man, o man, did I torture my father in law during that Patriots game. I get a perverse joy listening to the sports talk station here on a Monday after the Iggles lose. O, to hear the callers rage. To hear the hosts fumble. Everyone is so pissed, and just can’t grasp that the Beagles regularly get beaten by better teams.
To wit the Eagles story, the year they lost the Super Bowl, we were at a friend’s house, watching the game. The Birds lose-any surprise?-and there’s a bit of a commotion outside, as a few Eagles fans are loudly commiserating their demise. At this point in my night, I had a few, and won a good deal of money. I was full of myself-any surprise, again?-and went outside and yelled how the Eagles suck ass. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. It’s the neighbor, who is an Eagles’ fan. And has a gun. Absolutely true story. My friends moved out of that neighborhood shortly thereafter.
How can you even be a Phillies fan? They haven’t been in the Series since 93? This year, they finally got back in the playoffs. The city was awash in red. They had tens of thousands of bandwagon jumpers attend a rally at City Hall. After breaking their fans’ hearts the last few years with late season collapses, the guys in red finally made it. Then guess what happened? They won just as many playoff games as I did this year. Yup, zero. The city rose and crashed in less than a week. Suddenly, all those “hard to find” playoff and “team to beat” shirts were 3 for a dollar at Modell’s. But, man, o, man, did I enjoy watching the collapse. Why? Because I am a smarter sports fan? Well, maybe. But mostly, I loved watching these idiots be crushed. I felt alive.
Do you know how thrilled and obnoxious I was when my Avalanche beat the Flyers last week?
Exhibit C. Other reps. When I was working, I openly slagged them in the Missile newsletter. I put the mouth on them in the stores. They were the butt of many, many jokes. Why? Well, because I honestly thought most of them didn’t work as hard as me. And also because they were the competition. I wanted to piss them off. I wanted to make them miserable. I wanted them to be miffed when they walked into a store and saw none of their displays were up; it was all WEA. If they were miserable, then I knew I did my job.
Exhibit D. Opposites attract. Tara is one of the purest hearts and brightest lights I have ever known.
Exhibit E. My TV habits. Lots of violence. Cops is a great show to watch, and it makes me feel better about myself since I see drunken trash at their lowest, and thereby funniest. I can’t get enough of cops beating down some coke addict. I get all fuzzy inside. Intervention, which is better to watch with a few drinks in ya. Prison shows. UFC. 24. I can watch Funniest Home Videos, and laugh at loud at people falling. Falling off a bike, falling out of a tree, falling off of a trampoline, falling of a chair, etc. I am on the floor.
Exhibit F. My love of Halloween. Specifically all the gross and macabre stuff. I can’t get enough of AMC’s annual MonsterFest, and other classic B&W movies on late at night and weekends. Add the fact that I actually like to scare the kids. Remember those 4 poor girls that I made cry? Yea, that’s a good example right there. My love of Halloween and hatred of Xmas led me to create my own bastard holiday to piss all over Xmas revelers with my Halloween obsession.
Exhibit G. (And yes I know I could have organized this for a bit better flow, but this is all stream of consciousness.) My idea for an awesome movie. Yes, it’s Xmas related. It’s called either Santa Killer or Santa Assassin. Both titles have their charm, no? I haven’t actually bothered to write the whole thing out yet, but here’s the basic summary. There’s a guy, who looks nothing like the guy from Nickleback, who is sick of Xmas. He doesn’t like the consumerism. He doesn’t like the music, the hassle, the fakeness of it all. He decides to do everyone a favor, and get rid of Xmas. What is the best way to do it? By getting rid of the fat guy in the suit. So our hero goes to various malls to discreetly kill all the Santas. Here’s the one scene I have fleshed out.
We see little Timmy hop up on Santa’s lap. The Nutcracker Suite is softly in the background. The camera closes in so we just see Timmy’s face, and the bottom part of Santa’s long white beard. The camera never moves from here. Timmy starts telling Santa what he wants. At about the 3rd or 4th toy, we hear a soft pop from above stage right. There are muffled gasps from the unseen crowd. Timmy keeps rattling things off, looking straight into the camera. We hear unseen cell phones being opened and used. Slowly, trails of red stain Santa’s white beard. Still wide eyed and oblivious, Timmy slowly looks up to see why Santa isn’t responding. The blood continues to run down. Timmy looks up, then slowly looks back to the camera and says “…um…Mommy, does this mean I don’t get the Big Wheel?”
So as the movie goes on, our hero has a harder and harder time killing Santas. At the same time, he also becomes a cult hero. It turns out more and more people sympathize with our hero. I don’t have the ending figured out yet, but rest assured, there would be sequels. Yea, that’s dark.
Exhibit H. When I check out books from the library, I read them till the end, then write the ending on the third page to piss off the next guy.
Exhibit I. Last night, we took Bauer to PetSmart to buy some food. While there, we ran into a friend and her dog. So we let the dogs play together for a bit in the store. And while playing, the other dog peed and pooped in the store. And it wasn’t just a regular poop. It was like there was hot Tootsie Roll just continually plopping on the floor. And I just laughed, and laughed and laughed. It was so bad, I got on the phone to call her sister and tell her the dog took a wicked shit in the store. Now, that’s just mean. Funny, but mean. But laughing at friends’ poopy misfortune? That’s kinda dark.
So I feel better now. I am comforted in the knowledge that most great writers have a tremendous dark side, so it can be a great source of inspiration and material. I’m off to egg the orphanage.
Keep it dark.
Xmas Music
Originally written 12/10/7
Billy Squier once sang “Xmas is the time to say I love you” once. So why have I heard this song 14,000 fucking times? I am sure even he’s sick of it now. I hate this time of year. I hate Xmas music. Well most of it. I was able to find a few of my favorites, and load them on my player this month. So it’s not all terribly horrid. But most of it is, and I don’t fucking need to hear it every year.
John Lennon asks us ‘so this is Xmas and what have you done?’ Well, John, I got laid off in May and have been out of work for the last 7 months, thanks for the guilt trip, douchebag. What are you doing these days, decomposing?
My hatred of Xmas music comes from many different directions. The most obvious one is that I just hate this time of the year. So the last thing I need to hear is some nitwit singing how it’s “the most wonderful time of the year”. Why? Why is this the most wonderful time of the year? All I see are a bunch of people bitching about how busy they are (well, the ones that are actually working that is), all the hustle and bustle and the overall hassle. I am willing to say if you took any tool that is walking around the mall these days and asked them point blank “Do you hate Xmas?” they would say “FUCK YES, retard.”
As a (recovering, former) music junkie, I felt my artistic expectations were being insulted most of the time. I mean seriously, how many fucking times do you need to hear Jingle Bells done over and over. Longtime readers know I generally hate cover songs. And what are most Xmas songs? Cover songs. I have said before, there is really no difference between the cover band down the street playing a cover song, or say, Bruce Springsteen. Of course, since Bruce is popular, his cover will gain instant acceptance and notoriety that said bar band will not. Speaking of his Bossness, his cover of SC is Coming to Town is just God-awful. What’s up with that spiel in the beginning we have to hear every time? “So you guys been good out here or what? Ah, that’s not many, that’s not many. You guys are in trouble out here. Duh huh.” I wish Clarence would take that fucking saxamaphone and clock Bruce over the head. That would be a song I could listen to over and over.
Think about it. What is the real difference to hearing another version of Silent Night? Is there much difference between Sinatra, Diamond, Groban, Twisted Sister, McLachlan doing it? Well, OK, maybe that’s a bad example, but I think you see my point. It’s like these songs fucking chase you from the car to the mall and back.
Are the melodies of any of these songs really memorable? I think just because they’re about “the holidays’ they get a pass. Who’s to say if you took the melody from Deck the Halls, but switched the words around to be all about say global warming, or drug addiction that it would stand up? In fact if I was a band, I would do an UnXmas album. I would take all the melodies, but write new bullshit lyrics to them. I’m Dreaming of a White Hallowmas. Hey, Can You Get Me a New Beer. Crusty My Underwear. I think you see where I’m going. (Right now there’s a bunch of people singing Xmas melodies trying to figure out where those titles fit.)
Have you ever even paid attention to some of the lyrics? What kind of crack do you have to be on to write the 12 Days of Xmas? With all the leaping lords, maids a milking, French hens and such and so forth. Has anyone ever eaten ‘figgy pudding’? Has anyone outside of a hockey player ever just wanted front teeth for Xmas? I’ll be home for Xmas, if only in my dreams? WTF good does that do me? I’d be doing Christina Applegate, if only in my dreams. What’s your point? Can any of you Italians explain the lure of Dominic the Donkey? Isn’t it about time for some folks to come up with some new, current Xmas songs? Songs that have to deal with Cyber shopping, iPods, seasonal affection disorder, laptops, etc.
When you live with Mrs. Claus, you have to give in a bit. Originally, I put my foot down and said no Xmas music while I am around and can hear it. Yea, OK, that didn’t last too long. So I came up with a list of Missile-approved Xmas CDs. Sinatra, Brian Setzer Orchestra, Star Wars Xmas, Hawaiian Xmas, Twisted Sister, Ray Charles, Jeff the Drunk, Chris Isaak. I think that’s a pretty fair and diverse list. I managed to find some of this stuff and put it on my player. While I was surprised to find such gems as “What Do You Get a Wookie For Xmas (When He Already Has a Comb) and some Setzer & Sinatra stuff, I do have some other favorite Xmas songs.
I think my all time favorite Xmas song (yea, that’s kind of an oxymoron) is Have Yourself a Merry Little Xmas by the Pretenders. It’s just such a mellow, slow song, it is one of the few takes of a song that to me evokes a mood. The slide guitar (I’m always a sucker for that) is something you just don’t hear in a lot of Xmas songs. If it wasn’t a Xmas song, their cover would be an absolute killer, drink yourself silly kind of song. I don’t even usually like that song, by Chrissie and company did a really, really nice job with it. (When I saw the Pretenders over the summer, I yield for them to play it. Chrissie looked at me and said ‘motard’.) I couldn’t find it to put on the player, but you are probably familiar with it.
I really like the Brian Setzer Orchestra Xmas CDs. I like the orchestra sound with Setzer’s guitar playing. It’s a bit of the old, with some shredding in it. He also plays some obscure tunes, which is a bonus. Ever heard Cactus Xmas? Neither did I, until I heard BSO do it, and it’s a favorite song of mine. He also does 2 killer instrumental covers that really stand out.
Sinatra is kind of tricky. I like a lot of his mellower stuff with strings. But he also does some horrid (what, is horrid the word of the day today?) stuff as well. He does 12 Days with his kids and on the 1st Day, poor ol’ Blue Eyes gets “a most lovely Lavender tie”. Dude, fuck that shit, I’m the Chairman of the Goddamn Board, and you kids are getting me another fricking tie? He has a couple different Xmas albums, all mostly worth checking out.
Juliana Hatfield does a song called Make It Home that is one of the saddest fucking songs I have heard. I think it was first on the My So Called Life sdtk. The song doesn’t specifically mention Xmas, but there are cold weather allusions that are good enough. It’s a bit hard to find, and I couldn’t find it for the player. MIH is my favorite recently written Xmas tune. It’s a great song for a cold night, put a candle in the window, break out some of the hard stuff and sip a few. Def worth searching out.
I also couldn’t find the Southern Culture on the Skids Xmas song, but that’s a good one, too. I like the Eagles’ Please Come Home For Xmas. It still has that classic Eagles sound, and wouldn’t sound out of place if played in the summer. Well, except for that pesky Xmas in the title. I’m a big fan of the McKenzie’s 12 Days. It’s still funny after all these years. You can’t go wrong with some Spinal Tap for Xmas as well. Add some South Park, and you will have priceless Xmas memories.
Check out the Isaak CD. It’s a unique take of Xmas songs. It has a heavy summer vibe to it. Light instrumentation, you could really see yourself on the beach around a bonfire listening to this. Of course, to fuel the bonfire, you’d be throwing in Trans-Siberian Orchestra CDs. Yea, I know, a WEA cash cow the last few years, you would think I like TSO, but I don’t. Yes, even with the Savatage roots, I tried ‘em out. But they’re just too cheesy for me. (And, yes I know I like the Twisted Sister Xmas.) I’ve heard rave reviews of their shows from people I respect. But, I just don’t get it. Anymore, it’s just become music for Xmas geeks to coordinate the house light to. Every year, I see a bunch of viral videos of motards who make their 7,000 lights flash and blink to TSO. Could you imagine living next to such a house? All the traffic? I would seriously be the Grinch and go over there and snip the wires. Maybe rearrange the lights to say “I killed Santa” or ‘Fucking leave me and my lights alone” If you ever wanna see me go apeshit on the news, tell my neighbors to put up a ton of lights and coordinate them to TSO. I would be a YouTube hero.
All right, that’s all I got. I feel better. I’m off to find jobs where I can just get paid for bitching about stuff. For some reason, they seem to be hard to find….
Billy Squier once sang “Xmas is the time to say I love you” once. So why have I heard this song 14,000 fucking times? I am sure even he’s sick of it now. I hate this time of year. I hate Xmas music. Well most of it. I was able to find a few of my favorites, and load them on my player this month. So it’s not all terribly horrid. But most of it is, and I don’t fucking need to hear it every year.
John Lennon asks us ‘so this is Xmas and what have you done?’ Well, John, I got laid off in May and have been out of work for the last 7 months, thanks for the guilt trip, douchebag. What are you doing these days, decomposing?
My hatred of Xmas music comes from many different directions. The most obvious one is that I just hate this time of the year. So the last thing I need to hear is some nitwit singing how it’s “the most wonderful time of the year”. Why? Why is this the most wonderful time of the year? All I see are a bunch of people bitching about how busy they are (well, the ones that are actually working that is), all the hustle and bustle and the overall hassle. I am willing to say if you took any tool that is walking around the mall these days and asked them point blank “Do you hate Xmas?” they would say “FUCK YES, retard.”
As a (recovering, former) music junkie, I felt my artistic expectations were being insulted most of the time. I mean seriously, how many fucking times do you need to hear Jingle Bells done over and over. Longtime readers know I generally hate cover songs. And what are most Xmas songs? Cover songs. I have said before, there is really no difference between the cover band down the street playing a cover song, or say, Bruce Springsteen. Of course, since Bruce is popular, his cover will gain instant acceptance and notoriety that said bar band will not. Speaking of his Bossness, his cover of SC is Coming to Town is just God-awful. What’s up with that spiel in the beginning we have to hear every time? “So you guys been good out here or what? Ah, that’s not many, that’s not many. You guys are in trouble out here. Duh huh.” I wish Clarence would take that fucking saxamaphone and clock Bruce over the head. That would be a song I could listen to over and over.
Think about it. What is the real difference to hearing another version of Silent Night? Is there much difference between Sinatra, Diamond, Groban, Twisted Sister, McLachlan doing it? Well, OK, maybe that’s a bad example, but I think you see my point. It’s like these songs fucking chase you from the car to the mall and back.
Are the melodies of any of these songs really memorable? I think just because they’re about “the holidays’ they get a pass. Who’s to say if you took the melody from Deck the Halls, but switched the words around to be all about say global warming, or drug addiction that it would stand up? In fact if I was a band, I would do an UnXmas album. I would take all the melodies, but write new bullshit lyrics to them. I’m Dreaming of a White Hallowmas. Hey, Can You Get Me a New Beer. Crusty My Underwear. I think you see where I’m going. (Right now there’s a bunch of people singing Xmas melodies trying to figure out where those titles fit.)
Have you ever even paid attention to some of the lyrics? What kind of crack do you have to be on to write the 12 Days of Xmas? With all the leaping lords, maids a milking, French hens and such and so forth. Has anyone ever eaten ‘figgy pudding’? Has anyone outside of a hockey player ever just wanted front teeth for Xmas? I’ll be home for Xmas, if only in my dreams? WTF good does that do me? I’d be doing Christina Applegate, if only in my dreams. What’s your point? Can any of you Italians explain the lure of Dominic the Donkey? Isn’t it about time for some folks to come up with some new, current Xmas songs? Songs that have to deal with Cyber shopping, iPods, seasonal affection disorder, laptops, etc.
When you live with Mrs. Claus, you have to give in a bit. Originally, I put my foot down and said no Xmas music while I am around and can hear it. Yea, OK, that didn’t last too long. So I came up with a list of Missile-approved Xmas CDs. Sinatra, Brian Setzer Orchestra, Star Wars Xmas, Hawaiian Xmas, Twisted Sister, Ray Charles, Jeff the Drunk, Chris Isaak. I think that’s a pretty fair and diverse list. I managed to find some of this stuff and put it on my player. While I was surprised to find such gems as “What Do You Get a Wookie For Xmas (When He Already Has a Comb) and some Setzer & Sinatra stuff, I do have some other favorite Xmas songs.
I think my all time favorite Xmas song (yea, that’s kind of an oxymoron) is Have Yourself a Merry Little Xmas by the Pretenders. It’s just such a mellow, slow song, it is one of the few takes of a song that to me evokes a mood. The slide guitar (I’m always a sucker for that) is something you just don’t hear in a lot of Xmas songs. If it wasn’t a Xmas song, their cover would be an absolute killer, drink yourself silly kind of song. I don’t even usually like that song, by Chrissie and company did a really, really nice job with it. (When I saw the Pretenders over the summer, I yield for them to play it. Chrissie looked at me and said ‘motard’.) I couldn’t find it to put on the player, but you are probably familiar with it.
I really like the Brian Setzer Orchestra Xmas CDs. I like the orchestra sound with Setzer’s guitar playing. It’s a bit of the old, with some shredding in it. He also plays some obscure tunes, which is a bonus. Ever heard Cactus Xmas? Neither did I, until I heard BSO do it, and it’s a favorite song of mine. He also does 2 killer instrumental covers that really stand out.
Sinatra is kind of tricky. I like a lot of his mellower stuff with strings. But he also does some horrid (what, is horrid the word of the day today?) stuff as well. He does 12 Days with his kids and on the 1st Day, poor ol’ Blue Eyes gets “a most lovely Lavender tie”. Dude, fuck that shit, I’m the Chairman of the Goddamn Board, and you kids are getting me another fricking tie? He has a couple different Xmas albums, all mostly worth checking out.
Juliana Hatfield does a song called Make It Home that is one of the saddest fucking songs I have heard. I think it was first on the My So Called Life sdtk. The song doesn’t specifically mention Xmas, but there are cold weather allusions that are good enough. It’s a bit hard to find, and I couldn’t find it for the player. MIH is my favorite recently written Xmas tune. It’s a great song for a cold night, put a candle in the window, break out some of the hard stuff and sip a few. Def worth searching out.
I also couldn’t find the Southern Culture on the Skids Xmas song, but that’s a good one, too. I like the Eagles’ Please Come Home For Xmas. It still has that classic Eagles sound, and wouldn’t sound out of place if played in the summer. Well, except for that pesky Xmas in the title. I’m a big fan of the McKenzie’s 12 Days. It’s still funny after all these years. You can’t go wrong with some Spinal Tap for Xmas as well. Add some South Park, and you will have priceless Xmas memories.
Check out the Isaak CD. It’s a unique take of Xmas songs. It has a heavy summer vibe to it. Light instrumentation, you could really see yourself on the beach around a bonfire listening to this. Of course, to fuel the bonfire, you’d be throwing in Trans-Siberian Orchestra CDs. Yea, I know, a WEA cash cow the last few years, you would think I like TSO, but I don’t. Yes, even with the Savatage roots, I tried ‘em out. But they’re just too cheesy for me. (And, yes I know I like the Twisted Sister Xmas.) I’ve heard rave reviews of their shows from people I respect. But, I just don’t get it. Anymore, it’s just become music for Xmas geeks to coordinate the house light to. Every year, I see a bunch of viral videos of motards who make their 7,000 lights flash and blink to TSO. Could you imagine living next to such a house? All the traffic? I would seriously be the Grinch and go over there and snip the wires. Maybe rearrange the lights to say “I killed Santa” or ‘Fucking leave me and my lights alone” If you ever wanna see me go apeshit on the news, tell my neighbors to put up a ton of lights and coordinate them to TSO. I would be a YouTube hero.
All right, that’s all I got. I feel better. I’m off to find jobs where I can just get paid for bitching about stuff. For some reason, they seem to be hard to find….
Industry Rant; Various Issues
Originally written 11/29/7
Ok, so it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, and there is much to discuss. Just a head’s up this will probably be a music biz intensive post, might not be a lotta yuks. So if you’re looking for that sort of thing, go check out a previous post. I won’t be offended. Really, I’ll be fine.
Let’s start with some good news from the Ivory Castle. A few weeks ago, they let go one of their big wigs. I believe his title was territorial vice president or some such. This is great news for my few cool friends left in the Castle. I don’t know why I feel the need to protect the guilty, but for the sake of this rant, let’s just call him Godd. Yes, 2 d’s like a certain other name. Anywhoo, it is my opinion that things for WEA really took a dive as Godd assumed more power. I don’t recall just where he came from, but he has a brother in a high ranking position in another label. Me thinks there might be some nepotism there. And I hate people getting by on their last name (yea, Dale Jr, I’m looking at you). When he was installed as the head of something for the east, it ushered in the era of corporate speak at WEA. Sure, WEA is a large, generally faceless corporation. But it’s still the music biz, man, there’s still gotta be some interpretation and going by instincts. He would sit in on bore ass conference calls. Some of Team Philly would be on instant messenger, and play the Godd game. Type in DING every time he uses one of his sickingly corporate buzzwords. Heard a “going forward”? DING. “So at the end of the daaay”? DING. It was truly ridiculous we would be talking about a, I dunno, Chili Peppers CD, and you would hear corp speak. Something about that was so opposite what we should have been really trying to do.
The second thing Godd did, and this was almost fatal was increase the amount of pointless and repetitive email. Kids, it was unfucking real how often my Inbox was stuffed with his reports and notions. Godd was a big believer in reports. Word docs. Excel spreadsheets. Ordering systems. Puke. I often said that if someone actually sat down and analyzed all his reports we were supposed to go through, we’d already be at 40 hours. Just doing that, not going to stores, not calling accounts, just sitting on our asses reading largely irrelevant reports. That was just so against what I felt we should be doing. That’s not real life. You can have all the info in the world to back you up, but if it doesn’t float in the real world, it’s pointless. Some further explanation.
Godd was big on sending out reports. On just about everything. Sales numbers. Radio info. Tour dates. Shoe & shirt sizes of our artists. They were big Excel files that clogged our Inboxes. I mean, at that time, I had enough porn taking up room, I didn’t need no stinking reports. The reports were unfiltered. So my poor boss would waste his day just extracting the relevant info to our markets and resend. Now I have 2 copies of the same thing. (Any wonder why the biz is crumbling?) Sometimes, we would get essentially the same report in two different emails. For example, we might get one Soundscan email that was the Billboard charts for the week. It would be concise, informative, highlight any major fluctuations, etc. Then, say an hour later we’d get an Excel of the same basic info. This would happen for many different topics.
Another one of Godd’s babies was the order tracking system. We heard he worked mad hours, late at night in his home lab, tinkering to get this right. At its core, there was a lot of useful, pertinent info on there. It was a fairly large system, and I wish he spend more time on the nav system to make it easier. The order system had all kinds of info in it. I checked it once a week, to make sure all my orders were in, and there were no problems shipping. And it did save my ass a few times. It was great to track down missing/problem shipments. Problem was that there was a lot more irrelevant/excessive info on there as well that Godd wanted us to constantly go through.
For example, there was an application you could run that showed how many copies of a title an account was expected to bring in, and how many you actually sold them. I barely ever checked this. First of all, what is the mystery formula used to calculate these numbers? Was there a monkey with a dartboard somewhere? Actually, sadly, there probably was. Here’s my point why this is unrealistic. No one from WEA goes into my stores but me, so how can I get told how many copies to sell them? The system didn’t take into account any changes that can take place; store personnel changes, Best Buy moves next door, key radio station flips format, square footage decrease, etc. I didn’t pay attention to those numbers, if I missed them I did. After all, the account would always know best.
There was a lot of cool apps you could run. Sales figures by territory. How many and of what your accounts return. But, at the end of the day, I have limited time to explore. My time was better spent, and the company better served, if I attended to other real world matters. Whenever there was a meeting or conference, or Godd might come to town (which he never did), our boss got on us to “know the ordering system inside and out”. Sure, it’s my boss looking out for us, but it felt to us almost like it was going to be a test or something. We always traveled with a #2 pencil. (Yes, that’s a joke, trying to work some humor in here to keep you awake, yo)Too much info can be a killer. I might only have limited time with an account, and they might not need to know every fucking spin in every fucking daypart. I can come in loaded with all kind of info for Band X. They can be getting monster spins, performing on Letterman and Oprah, giving handjobs in the parking lot and playing the venue right next door. If my store tells me “We got nothing happening on it.” What else can I do? There may be every reason in the world why this band should be selling, but there’s just no reaction. The info I have just doesn’t pan out in the real world. By the same token, I can have a band with absolutely nothing going on, and they can fucking explode out of nowhere. Remember Danity Kane?
Don’t worry too much about Godd. I am sure he got a killer package. I am sure he can fail upwards to some other label. But it is encouraging to see some higher ups who are part of the problem get the ax. The Ivory Castle is getting mighty thin these days. In fact, WEA just had their investor’s conference call today. The last one was where they laid off 400 people, so let’s see how better off they are. Stock price is the lowest it’s ever been. Release sched for the fall was the lamest it’s been in years. Probably coulda used some marketing people for sure. After all, it’s not like Josh Groban can play Oprah ever day
.
Last night, WEA announced a deal with the Sinatra family. I’m too lazy to explain it, so here’s some copy:
LOS ANGELES, CA--(MARKET WIRE)--Nov 28, 2007 -- Warner Music Group Corp. (NYSE:WMG - News) and the family of Frank Sinatra announced today that they have established a worldwide partnership to integrate content, rights management and the preservation of the legendary entertainer's inspirational personality and prodigious body of work under a single entity.The partnership will operate under the name Frank Sinatra Enterprises (FSE) and will manage all aspects of Sinatra's artistic contribution to music, film and stage. FSE will also administer all licenses for the use of Sinatra's name and likeness.
I admit to being a Sinatra fan. I think this is good for the family and his fans. It will be interesting to see what WEA does with this. Just note the timing of this. This takes place the night before the conference call. Sinatra is a huge name for sure, but is it big enough to offset the disappointing results of the call? Maybe you didn’t hear about the call? Some more lazy text lifting:
NEW YORK (Reuters) - Warner Music Group, the world's third-largest music company, on Thursday posted a fall in quarterly profit, hurt by an industry-wide slump in sales as more fans choose to buy songs online rather than physical albums.Warner's net profit fell to $5 million, or 3 cents a share in its fiscal fourth quarter, from $12 million, or 8 cents a share, a year ago. Though Warner's revenue rose 2 percent to $869 million from $854 million a year ago, it declined 2 percent when factoring in the impact of the weaker dollar.Sales of digital music at Warner were up 25 percent at $130 million during the quarter but this could not make up for the short-fall in CD sales. U.S. album sales are down 14 percent year on year, according to data from Nielsen SoundScan, as more fans choose to buy music as individual songs through online stores such as Apple Inc's iTunes, or resort to using free file-sharing services to get music.Warner Music stock is down nearly 70 percent since the start of the year as evidence of a faster-than-expected deterioration in music sales has become more clear to investors.Like other major music companies, Warner is trying to realign its business to have a more comprehensive relationship with its artists beyond recording and publishing to include new digital services as well as a share of image rights, advertising, touring and management revenue.On Wednesday, Warner said it has formed a joint partnership with the estate of Frank Sinatra to manage all music, film and stage rights of the late iconic singer as well as administer all licenses for the Sinatra name and likeness.Last month, Madonna, one of the world's top-selling artists, said she would leave Warner Music to sign with concert promoter Live Nation Inc. But Warner retains the rights to all of Madonna's recordings to date and her publishing rights.
OK, so the Sinatra release was timed to come out before the call to blunt the poor performance. I don’t like how it’s used as a counter to Madonna leaving. The most important thing is that WEA keeps Madonna’s catalog. Madge’s days as a vital, selling artist are over after her initial singe from her next album. But it does lead to another interesting topic that seems to be all the rage with the majors these days.
Before we get to that, we need to understand how bands primarily made money. Ask any band, large or small, and they will tell you the same thing. “Who are you and how did you get past security?” (JK, more humor.) “We make all our money from touring.” For years, bands have paid the bills by getting in the bus and playing shows. They make money from ticket sales, from concession sales, from t-shirts etc sales, any tour sponsorships. They also make money from publishing. Publishing can be a huge source of money for a band. If a song gets used for a TV show, movie, commercial, videogame, etc, it can generate a ton of money for the songwriters (which most times are band members). So let’s just say the Rembrandts will never have to work again for giving us the fucking Friends song. (The sad part is they are a great pop band with strong songs. It’s sad to think that that is the song they will be remembered for, but hey, it bought them their houses.) Unless they were the biggest bands in the world, most bands only get OK income from CD sales.
The Madonna deal above is what is termed a 360 degree deal. 360 deals now mean that when a band sings to a label, the label not only makes money from CD sales, but also ticket sales, concession sales, merch sales and publishing. It’s far too early in this experiment to call it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Surely, it won’t hurt a superstar like Madonna, but let’s take a look at it from both label and artist.
Label side. People are coming to your show because they heard your song on the radio. They bought a shirt because they saw it in the video. That song got in the movie because of us, so we get a piece.
Artist side. We played Little Rock last night. We have no airplay. 40 people showed up and we sold 4 shirts. We spent more on gas than we made for the show. You want money from us?
Let’s look at it piece by piece. Radio. Most terrestrial radio are owned by giant corporations like Clear Channel, Emmis, etc. They can own many stations in a given market. Most of those station’s playlists are extremely tough to get a song on. The corps don’t care about fostering new bands, they care about selling ad time. To labels’ credit, most have thinned the ranks of people who go to radio stations to get songs played. But radio is less and less of a factor these days. Most radio stations suck, and play the same shit over and over, regardless of format. Kids today can get hip, new music from YouTube, MySpace, internet radio, satellite, digital radio, friends’ iPod. I just don’t think radio is the impact it once was.
Venues. Most venues are owned/booked by similar giant faceless corporations. Names like Live Nation (cough Clear Channel, cough) or TicketMaster or Comcast Tix. So if you want to play the TLA in Philly, you have to abide by Live Nations rules, and how much money they charge per ticket, service charge, etc.
So you’re kinda stuck for radio & tour. Most bands management’s take care of booking. What can a label bring to the process? Doesn’t it kinda sound like the label is taking money for no real new services? Doesn’t it sound like certain execs are trying to hold onto their courtside seats? Unless a label wants to kick in money for the costs of a tour, I don’t see the win here. That leaves us with money from playing live. Should a label get a cut from every hat, hoodie, lighter sold? Are they willing to kick in some money to cover production? It’s a touchy issue for sure. And without knowing all the facts, I wouldn’t want to be a band these days. Especially when WEA will only sign a band to a 360 deal now.
Will 360 turn the biz around? Will WEA get their stock price out of the basement? Would WEA have made more money if they held onto a few marketing peeps? I was in one of my fave FYEs a few weeks ago, talking to MVPete. He said how no reps ever come in. It was sad. What was even sadder was the shrinking stock of CDs. Instead, there’s more DVD, games and trend. So maybe WEA was right? Maybe they did see some writing on the wall? Maybe those Walmart titles by Garth Brooks and the Eagles are opening artists’ eyes.
Things are tough all over, I get that. I know WEA will ride the Golden Goose of Groban for the rest of the year, while cooler bands like Eisley and Airboune rot on the vine. It’s really a golden era for music. Never before have such amounts of music been readily available, and it still feels fucked up.
Ok, so it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, and there is much to discuss. Just a head’s up this will probably be a music biz intensive post, might not be a lotta yuks. So if you’re looking for that sort of thing, go check out a previous post. I won’t be offended. Really, I’ll be fine.
Let’s start with some good news from the Ivory Castle. A few weeks ago, they let go one of their big wigs. I believe his title was territorial vice president or some such. This is great news for my few cool friends left in the Castle. I don’t know why I feel the need to protect the guilty, but for the sake of this rant, let’s just call him Godd. Yes, 2 d’s like a certain other name. Anywhoo, it is my opinion that things for WEA really took a dive as Godd assumed more power. I don’t recall just where he came from, but he has a brother in a high ranking position in another label. Me thinks there might be some nepotism there. And I hate people getting by on their last name (yea, Dale Jr, I’m looking at you). When he was installed as the head of something for the east, it ushered in the era of corporate speak at WEA. Sure, WEA is a large, generally faceless corporation. But it’s still the music biz, man, there’s still gotta be some interpretation and going by instincts. He would sit in on bore ass conference calls. Some of Team Philly would be on instant messenger, and play the Godd game. Type in DING every time he uses one of his sickingly corporate buzzwords. Heard a “going forward”? DING. “So at the end of the daaay”? DING. It was truly ridiculous we would be talking about a, I dunno, Chili Peppers CD, and you would hear corp speak. Something about that was so opposite what we should have been really trying to do.
The second thing Godd did, and this was almost fatal was increase the amount of pointless and repetitive email. Kids, it was unfucking real how often my Inbox was stuffed with his reports and notions. Godd was a big believer in reports. Word docs. Excel spreadsheets. Ordering systems. Puke. I often said that if someone actually sat down and analyzed all his reports we were supposed to go through, we’d already be at 40 hours. Just doing that, not going to stores, not calling accounts, just sitting on our asses reading largely irrelevant reports. That was just so against what I felt we should be doing. That’s not real life. You can have all the info in the world to back you up, but if it doesn’t float in the real world, it’s pointless. Some further explanation.
Godd was big on sending out reports. On just about everything. Sales numbers. Radio info. Tour dates. Shoe & shirt sizes of our artists. They were big Excel files that clogged our Inboxes. I mean, at that time, I had enough porn taking up room, I didn’t need no stinking reports. The reports were unfiltered. So my poor boss would waste his day just extracting the relevant info to our markets and resend. Now I have 2 copies of the same thing. (Any wonder why the biz is crumbling?) Sometimes, we would get essentially the same report in two different emails. For example, we might get one Soundscan email that was the Billboard charts for the week. It would be concise, informative, highlight any major fluctuations, etc. Then, say an hour later we’d get an Excel of the same basic info. This would happen for many different topics.
Another one of Godd’s babies was the order tracking system. We heard he worked mad hours, late at night in his home lab, tinkering to get this right. At its core, there was a lot of useful, pertinent info on there. It was a fairly large system, and I wish he spend more time on the nav system to make it easier. The order system had all kinds of info in it. I checked it once a week, to make sure all my orders were in, and there were no problems shipping. And it did save my ass a few times. It was great to track down missing/problem shipments. Problem was that there was a lot more irrelevant/excessive info on there as well that Godd wanted us to constantly go through.
For example, there was an application you could run that showed how many copies of a title an account was expected to bring in, and how many you actually sold them. I barely ever checked this. First of all, what is the mystery formula used to calculate these numbers? Was there a monkey with a dartboard somewhere? Actually, sadly, there probably was. Here’s my point why this is unrealistic. No one from WEA goes into my stores but me, so how can I get told how many copies to sell them? The system didn’t take into account any changes that can take place; store personnel changes, Best Buy moves next door, key radio station flips format, square footage decrease, etc. I didn’t pay attention to those numbers, if I missed them I did. After all, the account would always know best.
There was a lot of cool apps you could run. Sales figures by territory. How many and of what your accounts return. But, at the end of the day, I have limited time to explore. My time was better spent, and the company better served, if I attended to other real world matters. Whenever there was a meeting or conference, or Godd might come to town (which he never did), our boss got on us to “know the ordering system inside and out”. Sure, it’s my boss looking out for us, but it felt to us almost like it was going to be a test or something. We always traveled with a #2 pencil. (Yes, that’s a joke, trying to work some humor in here to keep you awake, yo)Too much info can be a killer. I might only have limited time with an account, and they might not need to know every fucking spin in every fucking daypart. I can come in loaded with all kind of info for Band X. They can be getting monster spins, performing on Letterman and Oprah, giving handjobs in the parking lot and playing the venue right next door. If my store tells me “We got nothing happening on it.” What else can I do? There may be every reason in the world why this band should be selling, but there’s just no reaction. The info I have just doesn’t pan out in the real world. By the same token, I can have a band with absolutely nothing going on, and they can fucking explode out of nowhere. Remember Danity Kane?
Don’t worry too much about Godd. I am sure he got a killer package. I am sure he can fail upwards to some other label. But it is encouraging to see some higher ups who are part of the problem get the ax. The Ivory Castle is getting mighty thin these days. In fact, WEA just had their investor’s conference call today. The last one was where they laid off 400 people, so let’s see how better off they are. Stock price is the lowest it’s ever been. Release sched for the fall was the lamest it’s been in years. Probably coulda used some marketing people for sure. After all, it’s not like Josh Groban can play Oprah ever day
.
Last night, WEA announced a deal with the Sinatra family. I’m too lazy to explain it, so here’s some copy:
LOS ANGELES, CA--(MARKET WIRE)--Nov 28, 2007 -- Warner Music Group Corp. (NYSE:WMG - News) and the family of Frank Sinatra announced today that they have established a worldwide partnership to integrate content, rights management and the preservation of the legendary entertainer's inspirational personality and prodigious body of work under a single entity.The partnership will operate under the name Frank Sinatra Enterprises (FSE) and will manage all aspects of Sinatra's artistic contribution to music, film and stage. FSE will also administer all licenses for the use of Sinatra's name and likeness.
I admit to being a Sinatra fan. I think this is good for the family and his fans. It will be interesting to see what WEA does with this. Just note the timing of this. This takes place the night before the conference call. Sinatra is a huge name for sure, but is it big enough to offset the disappointing results of the call? Maybe you didn’t hear about the call? Some more lazy text lifting:
NEW YORK (Reuters) - Warner Music Group, the world's third-largest music company, on Thursday posted a fall in quarterly profit, hurt by an industry-wide slump in sales as more fans choose to buy songs online rather than physical albums.Warner's net profit fell to $5 million, or 3 cents a share in its fiscal fourth quarter, from $12 million, or 8 cents a share, a year ago. Though Warner's revenue rose 2 percent to $869 million from $854 million a year ago, it declined 2 percent when factoring in the impact of the weaker dollar.Sales of digital music at Warner were up 25 percent at $130 million during the quarter but this could not make up for the short-fall in CD sales. U.S. album sales are down 14 percent year on year, according to data from Nielsen SoundScan, as more fans choose to buy music as individual songs through online stores such as Apple Inc's iTunes, or resort to using free file-sharing services to get music.Warner Music stock is down nearly 70 percent since the start of the year as evidence of a faster-than-expected deterioration in music sales has become more clear to investors.Like other major music companies, Warner is trying to realign its business to have a more comprehensive relationship with its artists beyond recording and publishing to include new digital services as well as a share of image rights, advertising, touring and management revenue.On Wednesday, Warner said it has formed a joint partnership with the estate of Frank Sinatra to manage all music, film and stage rights of the late iconic singer as well as administer all licenses for the Sinatra name and likeness.Last month, Madonna, one of the world's top-selling artists, said she would leave Warner Music to sign with concert promoter Live Nation Inc. But Warner retains the rights to all of Madonna's recordings to date and her publishing rights.
OK, so the Sinatra release was timed to come out before the call to blunt the poor performance. I don’t like how it’s used as a counter to Madonna leaving. The most important thing is that WEA keeps Madonna’s catalog. Madge’s days as a vital, selling artist are over after her initial singe from her next album. But it does lead to another interesting topic that seems to be all the rage with the majors these days.
Before we get to that, we need to understand how bands primarily made money. Ask any band, large or small, and they will tell you the same thing. “Who are you and how did you get past security?” (JK, more humor.) “We make all our money from touring.” For years, bands have paid the bills by getting in the bus and playing shows. They make money from ticket sales, from concession sales, from t-shirts etc sales, any tour sponsorships. They also make money from publishing. Publishing can be a huge source of money for a band. If a song gets used for a TV show, movie, commercial, videogame, etc, it can generate a ton of money for the songwriters (which most times are band members). So let’s just say the Rembrandts will never have to work again for giving us the fucking Friends song. (The sad part is they are a great pop band with strong songs. It’s sad to think that that is the song they will be remembered for, but hey, it bought them their houses.) Unless they were the biggest bands in the world, most bands only get OK income from CD sales.
The Madonna deal above is what is termed a 360 degree deal. 360 deals now mean that when a band sings to a label, the label not only makes money from CD sales, but also ticket sales, concession sales, merch sales and publishing. It’s far too early in this experiment to call it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Surely, it won’t hurt a superstar like Madonna, but let’s take a look at it from both label and artist.
Label side. People are coming to your show because they heard your song on the radio. They bought a shirt because they saw it in the video. That song got in the movie because of us, so we get a piece.
Artist side. We played Little Rock last night. We have no airplay. 40 people showed up and we sold 4 shirts. We spent more on gas than we made for the show. You want money from us?
Let’s look at it piece by piece. Radio. Most terrestrial radio are owned by giant corporations like Clear Channel, Emmis, etc. They can own many stations in a given market. Most of those station’s playlists are extremely tough to get a song on. The corps don’t care about fostering new bands, they care about selling ad time. To labels’ credit, most have thinned the ranks of people who go to radio stations to get songs played. But radio is less and less of a factor these days. Most radio stations suck, and play the same shit over and over, regardless of format. Kids today can get hip, new music from YouTube, MySpace, internet radio, satellite, digital radio, friends’ iPod. I just don’t think radio is the impact it once was.
Venues. Most venues are owned/booked by similar giant faceless corporations. Names like Live Nation (cough Clear Channel, cough) or TicketMaster or Comcast Tix. So if you want to play the TLA in Philly, you have to abide by Live Nations rules, and how much money they charge per ticket, service charge, etc.
So you’re kinda stuck for radio & tour. Most bands management’s take care of booking. What can a label bring to the process? Doesn’t it kinda sound like the label is taking money for no real new services? Doesn’t it sound like certain execs are trying to hold onto their courtside seats? Unless a label wants to kick in money for the costs of a tour, I don’t see the win here. That leaves us with money from playing live. Should a label get a cut from every hat, hoodie, lighter sold? Are they willing to kick in some money to cover production? It’s a touchy issue for sure. And without knowing all the facts, I wouldn’t want to be a band these days. Especially when WEA will only sign a band to a 360 deal now.
Will 360 turn the biz around? Will WEA get their stock price out of the basement? Would WEA have made more money if they held onto a few marketing peeps? I was in one of my fave FYEs a few weeks ago, talking to MVPete. He said how no reps ever come in. It was sad. What was even sadder was the shrinking stock of CDs. Instead, there’s more DVD, games and trend. So maybe WEA was right? Maybe they did see some writing on the wall? Maybe those Walmart titles by Garth Brooks and the Eagles are opening artists’ eyes.
Things are tough all over, I get that. I know WEA will ride the Golden Goose of Groban for the rest of the year, while cooler bands like Eisley and Airboune rot on the vine. It’s really a golden era for music. Never before have such amounts of music been readily available, and it still feels fucked up.
The Legend of Hallowmas
Originally written 11/28/7
Years for now, nay, generations from now, when Hallowmas is an accepted and recognized holiday, history will demand a clear accounting of just where Hallowmas came from. So, for the sake of history, here is the Legend of Hallowmas.
First a little background. Tara loves freaking Xmas. I love freaking Halloween. She can deal with Halloween. I fucking hate Xmas. With the red hot passion of a thousand suns. You can see where there will be friction. To her credit, she has warmed up to Halloween, while my stance on hating Xmas has not changed. Around the house, Halloween was my day. It was all up to me to put up the decorations and take them down. It would seem as soon as I was taking down the Halloween graveyard, that it was being replaced by a winter freaking wonderland. The change was just too sudden for me. I always tried to persuade her to not go too overboard. Soon enough, I had to throw out a lifesaver to reel her in. Garland. Santas everywhere. Reindeers. Elves. Lights. That spray snow stuff on the window. It was like being trapped in a snowglobe with a demented Mrs. Clause.
Come the winter of 2004. We just got Bauer in September, he was barely 5 months old at this time. Tara’s all going on about getting a tree. Finally, I had some logic this year. I said no, because I was afraid he would see a tree inside, then go pee and shit on it (at least that’s who I would blame it on). I was afraid he would get to some of the ornaments, or knock the tree over. I calmly explained to her all this sound reasoning for not getting a tree.
So she’s putting up the tree. I’m not helping, because it’s not my “holiday”. I’m there to watch and criticize 2 things I am very good at. Tara called my sister Kathy over to help. Kathy brings over her kid Michael. Me and Mike just criticize everything they do. The wrong side of the tree is facing out. The lights don’t look good. It smells like dead bird. I look outside our big picture window. And there it was. We had a pumpkin out there since Halloween. It was still in good shape. So we said we’d take the pumpkin, decorate it, and it would be better than their measly little tree. It was game on.
We brought the pumpkin in and got to work. The first thing we realized it that it is far easier to decorate a tree than it is a pumpkin. We try tacking a strand of lights to the pumpkin, but they won’t hold the lights in. Duct tape! We duct taped the lights to the pumpkin, then used the tacks on the duct tape to secure it. This was a slow and timely process that ultimately ended up with more tacks in the damn thing than lights. Next was the garland. More tacks and duct tape.
We’d steal the leftover ornaments and hang them on the pumpkin. Soon enough, the first Hallowmas Pumpkin was born. Immensely proud of our achievement, we placed in the front window. If you walked by our house, you could only see a little of the tree in the corner. But right smack dab in the middle was a garish glowing pumpkin. It truly was beautiful.
Some girls who were Tara’s students just happened to be walking down the street. They asked what the deal was with the pumpkin, and I told them it was Hallowmas. A few weeks later in class, the girls gave Tara a Happy Hallowmas card. It dawned on me that I was on to something. Clearly, there was a need for Hallowmas.
Sure, Hallowmas was born out of my love of Halloween and hatred of Xmas. It was a cheap way to be lazy and keep up all of my Halloween decorations as late as possible. What better way than to declare it a ‘season’ as opposed to just one actual holiday? That way, I could keep stuff up from Halloween to Freaking past New Year’s. It was a bridge from Halloween to Xmas. The next year, it was a tradition to have the girls do the tree and the boys do the pumpkin. I think it was right around this time that I wrote about it in the Missile. Who hates fucking Xmas season more than retail workers?
There were many benefits to Hallowmas I explained. First of all, I invented it, so it must be good. And there should be a way to generate some money from the deal as well. Secondly, since it was so new, no one could feel excluded. No, Hallowmas does not discriminate. It doesn’t matter what your gender is, what your race is, what your religion is, how old you are, whatever. Even though I hate fucking Xmas, it does peeve me off to see people being so goddamn PC and call it the holidays. I don’t buy the argument that since “Christ” is in the title, some people should feel like they are being excluded, or some imaginary civil rights are being violated by the clerk at Pepperidge Farms. Here’s the deal; the origin of Christmas has been so diluted, that it doesn’t even matter anymore. No one cares that it is about the birth of some undocumented being. Just look at crosses these days. They don’t even have the connotations they had 2000 years ago. So don’t get so fucking uptight. If I’m in a store, and the clerk wishes me a Happy Hanukah, I say thanks, and move on. My panties aren’t all in a bunch since I am not Jewish. I’m not bitching out the manager. Someone just wished me to have a happy day, that’s it. Fucking deal with it.
And while I’m off on a tangent, did you hear the story about malls who forbid their Santas from saying “Ho ho ho” because it might be offensive to women? Seriously. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me here, right? What’s next, we can’t call it the ‘Ho’lidays? We can’t wish to have a White Xmas, or shop on Black Friday? That’s one thing about Hallowmas, we can still be unPC. You can walk into the party and say “ho ho ho” all you fucking want. Even if it is full of 5 dollars ho’s. Dressed in Xmas lingerie….with..fishnets on…..and stilettos…..
So we did the Hallowmas pumpkin again a second year. Again, I wrote about it at length in the Missile and webpage. Another benefit is that the Hween stuff is all dirt cheap after Hween, so it’s easy to get stuff for a party.
We come to year three. Tara had arranged for her soccer team to go pumpkin picking on a Sunday. A bunch of us meet, and I tell them it’s my goal to get the biggest pumpkin I can find to make it the Hallowmas pumpkin. “What is Hallowmas?” they all ask. Here’s a new crowd to tell of my holiday. They seem to dig it, or at least humor me, which most of them know how to do now. So I find this big ass pumpkin. I mean seriously large. It was so big, even the people who worked there seemed shocked to have one this big. I bought a bunch of pumpkins for Hallowmas that year. Tara said she would carve a Santa in one, and I could decorate the other one. Recall is a bit foggy, but if I recall correctly, our friend April already had a ahem holiday party planned, when someone asked if we could make it a Hallowmas party. So let me get this straight. It’s my holiday, and we can throw the party at somebody else’s house? O, it’s on like Donkey Kong.
Except now people expected a Hallowmas party. The usual mash-up of Hween & Xmas wouldn’t cut it now. It was almost like there had to be some sort of backstory to the day. I got right to work. I found a place that did custom Santa hats. (you can read more about that in the party wrap up post). We took over the pumpkins, and decked out the mummy in Xmas lights and put him outside.
Now it was a challenge to try to put something together. I actually did some research, and discovered that there really used to be a Hallowmas. It was celebrated on November 1st-AKA All Saints Day. It was a feast in honor of all saints. So it was cool to find there was some precedent to it. But it did bum me out to think that someone thought of this before lil’ ol’ me. It’s still my fucking holiday though, and I’ll git to that later on.
Next up was to create some sort of imagery or background for Hallowmas. Xmas was for families to gather around the fire. So Hallowmas was for friends to gather around the beer pong table. Instead of roasting chestnuts on an open fire, at Hallowmas, it was getting roasted, numbnuts, around an open container. Instead of watching Peanuts, you were instructed to watch Xmas Story, the Silent Night, Deadly Night series, Xmas Vacation, and Night of the Living Dead.
Everyone seemed to have a good time. John even brewed a special beer called Hallowmas Ale just for the event. I am sure it was called Thanksgiving Ale the month before, and I think he changed the name to Bad Ass Ale the next month, but just to have Hallowmas Ale for one night was pretty sweet.
I even managed to get some Hween stuff on the tree. Two years ago, our topper was a skull. Last year it was a Grinch head. She gets her tree, I get my Hween decorations. Really, it bonds us.
And that brings us to year 4. Before I put away all my Hween props, I was sure to hold out some stuff for the party. We wised up, and bought plastic pumpkins this year for the HallowPumpkins. I have properly spelled Hallowmas hats this year. I am excited that we’re doing this again. Hallowmas season is all about getting together with your friends to have a good time. And since it is a season, you can choose when and where to celebrate; hell you can even do it twice.
This year, I even have a bigger audience to spread the idea to. I am regularly getting hits well into the hundreds per week on MySpace. I have readers in Florida, PA, NY, Chicago and West Virginia. And I will re-edit this post to put on the writer’s site I joined to hit a totally new audience. Yes, this could be the year we turn the corner. Go throw a Hallowmas party this year. Get red, green, orange and black Solo cups for HallowPong. Break out a few Hween decorations, slap some Xmas stuff on them, go get some brews and booze, invite friends and just have a good ol’ time. Just make sure everyone gets home safe, or at least passes out inside.
Lastly, I would like to state that Hallowmas is my holiday, my idea. Sure, in the past there was a “Hallowmas” celebrated, but there are huge differences between Hallowmas 2007 and Hallowmas 4 AD. Those pesky Christians just don’t know how to rock it like we do. They are 2 diverse events. And the final proof is that if they did a good job, we would have been celebrating Hallowmas all along. But, no, someone dropped the ball, and it disappeared. It laid dormant for 2000 years, so they lose any and all rights to it. Suck it, church.
I’ve also had some people tell me this sounds like festivus from some show called Seinfeld? For the record, I need to state that I’ve maybe watched 4 episodes, and none of them were about festivus. I don’t think the show is funny, and am unaware of the details of their festivus. I’m not even going to waste my time by researching it, either. I am sure it doesn’t have beer pong or drinking to the Grinch as tenants. I am sure mine is cooler. Besides, Seinfeld has enough goddamn money. He can sue me if he wants, but I will warn him that my wife is coming out with a healthy kid’s cookbook, so watch out Jerry. Of course, Seinfeld is more than welcome to partake in any Hallowmas activities. Just don’t expect my crowd to be doing any silly festivus shit.
So there it is. Unlike the first Thanksgiving which was largely undocumented, we have very clear records of the beginning of Hallowmas. I fully expect Hallmark to come crawling to my door, asking permission to make Hallowmas cards. Target and Walmart will send sleazy lawyers to try to buy the idea from me so they can bastardize it. I promise I won’t let that happen. John can market his official Hallowmas Ale, but only if the picture on the label is of him with the Viking Hat on from last year’s party. I will trademark the name so I can put out Santa hats, and t-shirts, and glasses. Urban Outfitters will be all over me. I’ll sit back like the fat cats that invented ‘secretary’s day’ or ‘Arbor day’.
During this busy Hallowmas season, please be sure to get together with a bunch of your friends to celebrate. For one day, Xmas doesn’t even exist. For one day, it’s still Halloween. For just a few hours, life is nothing more than what is happening at the house you celebrate Hallowmas.
And would it kill ya to send me a few gifts as a sign of thanks?
Years for now, nay, generations from now, when Hallowmas is an accepted and recognized holiday, history will demand a clear accounting of just where Hallowmas came from. So, for the sake of history, here is the Legend of Hallowmas.
First a little background. Tara loves freaking Xmas. I love freaking Halloween. She can deal with Halloween. I fucking hate Xmas. With the red hot passion of a thousand suns. You can see where there will be friction. To her credit, she has warmed up to Halloween, while my stance on hating Xmas has not changed. Around the house, Halloween was my day. It was all up to me to put up the decorations and take them down. It would seem as soon as I was taking down the Halloween graveyard, that it was being replaced by a winter freaking wonderland. The change was just too sudden for me. I always tried to persuade her to not go too overboard. Soon enough, I had to throw out a lifesaver to reel her in. Garland. Santas everywhere. Reindeers. Elves. Lights. That spray snow stuff on the window. It was like being trapped in a snowglobe with a demented Mrs. Clause.
Come the winter of 2004. We just got Bauer in September, he was barely 5 months old at this time. Tara’s all going on about getting a tree. Finally, I had some logic this year. I said no, because I was afraid he would see a tree inside, then go pee and shit on it (at least that’s who I would blame it on). I was afraid he would get to some of the ornaments, or knock the tree over. I calmly explained to her all this sound reasoning for not getting a tree.
So she’s putting up the tree. I’m not helping, because it’s not my “holiday”. I’m there to watch and criticize 2 things I am very good at. Tara called my sister Kathy over to help. Kathy brings over her kid Michael. Me and Mike just criticize everything they do. The wrong side of the tree is facing out. The lights don’t look good. It smells like dead bird. I look outside our big picture window. And there it was. We had a pumpkin out there since Halloween. It was still in good shape. So we said we’d take the pumpkin, decorate it, and it would be better than their measly little tree. It was game on.
We brought the pumpkin in and got to work. The first thing we realized it that it is far easier to decorate a tree than it is a pumpkin. We try tacking a strand of lights to the pumpkin, but they won’t hold the lights in. Duct tape! We duct taped the lights to the pumpkin, then used the tacks on the duct tape to secure it. This was a slow and timely process that ultimately ended up with more tacks in the damn thing than lights. Next was the garland. More tacks and duct tape.
We’d steal the leftover ornaments and hang them on the pumpkin. Soon enough, the first Hallowmas Pumpkin was born. Immensely proud of our achievement, we placed in the front window. If you walked by our house, you could only see a little of the tree in the corner. But right smack dab in the middle was a garish glowing pumpkin. It truly was beautiful.
Some girls who were Tara’s students just happened to be walking down the street. They asked what the deal was with the pumpkin, and I told them it was Hallowmas. A few weeks later in class, the girls gave Tara a Happy Hallowmas card. It dawned on me that I was on to something. Clearly, there was a need for Hallowmas.
Sure, Hallowmas was born out of my love of Halloween and hatred of Xmas. It was a cheap way to be lazy and keep up all of my Halloween decorations as late as possible. What better way than to declare it a ‘season’ as opposed to just one actual holiday? That way, I could keep stuff up from Halloween to Freaking past New Year’s. It was a bridge from Halloween to Xmas. The next year, it was a tradition to have the girls do the tree and the boys do the pumpkin. I think it was right around this time that I wrote about it in the Missile. Who hates fucking Xmas season more than retail workers?
There were many benefits to Hallowmas I explained. First of all, I invented it, so it must be good. And there should be a way to generate some money from the deal as well. Secondly, since it was so new, no one could feel excluded. No, Hallowmas does not discriminate. It doesn’t matter what your gender is, what your race is, what your religion is, how old you are, whatever. Even though I hate fucking Xmas, it does peeve me off to see people being so goddamn PC and call it the holidays. I don’t buy the argument that since “Christ” is in the title, some people should feel like they are being excluded, or some imaginary civil rights are being violated by the clerk at Pepperidge Farms. Here’s the deal; the origin of Christmas has been so diluted, that it doesn’t even matter anymore. No one cares that it is about the birth of some undocumented being. Just look at crosses these days. They don’t even have the connotations they had 2000 years ago. So don’t get so fucking uptight. If I’m in a store, and the clerk wishes me a Happy Hanukah, I say thanks, and move on. My panties aren’t all in a bunch since I am not Jewish. I’m not bitching out the manager. Someone just wished me to have a happy day, that’s it. Fucking deal with it.
And while I’m off on a tangent, did you hear the story about malls who forbid their Santas from saying “Ho ho ho” because it might be offensive to women? Seriously. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me here, right? What’s next, we can’t call it the ‘Ho’lidays? We can’t wish to have a White Xmas, or shop on Black Friday? That’s one thing about Hallowmas, we can still be unPC. You can walk into the party and say “ho ho ho” all you fucking want. Even if it is full of 5 dollars ho’s. Dressed in Xmas lingerie….with..fishnets on…..and stilettos…..
So we did the Hallowmas pumpkin again a second year. Again, I wrote about it at length in the Missile and webpage. Another benefit is that the Hween stuff is all dirt cheap after Hween, so it’s easy to get stuff for a party.
We come to year three. Tara had arranged for her soccer team to go pumpkin picking on a Sunday. A bunch of us meet, and I tell them it’s my goal to get the biggest pumpkin I can find to make it the Hallowmas pumpkin. “What is Hallowmas?” they all ask. Here’s a new crowd to tell of my holiday. They seem to dig it, or at least humor me, which most of them know how to do now. So I find this big ass pumpkin. I mean seriously large. It was so big, even the people who worked there seemed shocked to have one this big. I bought a bunch of pumpkins for Hallowmas that year. Tara said she would carve a Santa in one, and I could decorate the other one. Recall is a bit foggy, but if I recall correctly, our friend April already had a ahem holiday party planned, when someone asked if we could make it a Hallowmas party. So let me get this straight. It’s my holiday, and we can throw the party at somebody else’s house? O, it’s on like Donkey Kong.
Except now people expected a Hallowmas party. The usual mash-up of Hween & Xmas wouldn’t cut it now. It was almost like there had to be some sort of backstory to the day. I got right to work. I found a place that did custom Santa hats. (you can read more about that in the party wrap up post). We took over the pumpkins, and decked out the mummy in Xmas lights and put him outside.
Now it was a challenge to try to put something together. I actually did some research, and discovered that there really used to be a Hallowmas. It was celebrated on November 1st-AKA All Saints Day. It was a feast in honor of all saints. So it was cool to find there was some precedent to it. But it did bum me out to think that someone thought of this before lil’ ol’ me. It’s still my fucking holiday though, and I’ll git to that later on.
Next up was to create some sort of imagery or background for Hallowmas. Xmas was for families to gather around the fire. So Hallowmas was for friends to gather around the beer pong table. Instead of roasting chestnuts on an open fire, at Hallowmas, it was getting roasted, numbnuts, around an open container. Instead of watching Peanuts, you were instructed to watch Xmas Story, the Silent Night, Deadly Night series, Xmas Vacation, and Night of the Living Dead.
Everyone seemed to have a good time. John even brewed a special beer called Hallowmas Ale just for the event. I am sure it was called Thanksgiving Ale the month before, and I think he changed the name to Bad Ass Ale the next month, but just to have Hallowmas Ale for one night was pretty sweet.
I even managed to get some Hween stuff on the tree. Two years ago, our topper was a skull. Last year it was a Grinch head. She gets her tree, I get my Hween decorations. Really, it bonds us.
And that brings us to year 4. Before I put away all my Hween props, I was sure to hold out some stuff for the party. We wised up, and bought plastic pumpkins this year for the HallowPumpkins. I have properly spelled Hallowmas hats this year. I am excited that we’re doing this again. Hallowmas season is all about getting together with your friends to have a good time. And since it is a season, you can choose when and where to celebrate; hell you can even do it twice.
This year, I even have a bigger audience to spread the idea to. I am regularly getting hits well into the hundreds per week on MySpace. I have readers in Florida, PA, NY, Chicago and West Virginia. And I will re-edit this post to put on the writer’s site I joined to hit a totally new audience. Yes, this could be the year we turn the corner. Go throw a Hallowmas party this year. Get red, green, orange and black Solo cups for HallowPong. Break out a few Hween decorations, slap some Xmas stuff on them, go get some brews and booze, invite friends and just have a good ol’ time. Just make sure everyone gets home safe, or at least passes out inside.
Lastly, I would like to state that Hallowmas is my holiday, my idea. Sure, in the past there was a “Hallowmas” celebrated, but there are huge differences between Hallowmas 2007 and Hallowmas 4 AD. Those pesky Christians just don’t know how to rock it like we do. They are 2 diverse events. And the final proof is that if they did a good job, we would have been celebrating Hallowmas all along. But, no, someone dropped the ball, and it disappeared. It laid dormant for 2000 years, so they lose any and all rights to it. Suck it, church.
I’ve also had some people tell me this sounds like festivus from some show called Seinfeld? For the record, I need to state that I’ve maybe watched 4 episodes, and none of them were about festivus. I don’t think the show is funny, and am unaware of the details of their festivus. I’m not even going to waste my time by researching it, either. I am sure it doesn’t have beer pong or drinking to the Grinch as tenants. I am sure mine is cooler. Besides, Seinfeld has enough goddamn money. He can sue me if he wants, but I will warn him that my wife is coming out with a healthy kid’s cookbook, so watch out Jerry. Of course, Seinfeld is more than welcome to partake in any Hallowmas activities. Just don’t expect my crowd to be doing any silly festivus shit.
So there it is. Unlike the first Thanksgiving which was largely undocumented, we have very clear records of the beginning of Hallowmas. I fully expect Hallmark to come crawling to my door, asking permission to make Hallowmas cards. Target and Walmart will send sleazy lawyers to try to buy the idea from me so they can bastardize it. I promise I won’t let that happen. John can market his official Hallowmas Ale, but only if the picture on the label is of him with the Viking Hat on from last year’s party. I will trademark the name so I can put out Santa hats, and t-shirts, and glasses. Urban Outfitters will be all over me. I’ll sit back like the fat cats that invented ‘secretary’s day’ or ‘Arbor day’.
During this busy Hallowmas season, please be sure to get together with a bunch of your friends to celebrate. For one day, Xmas doesn’t even exist. For one day, it’s still Halloween. For just a few hours, life is nothing more than what is happening at the house you celebrate Hallowmas.
And would it kill ya to send me a few gifts as a sign of thanks?
Industry Rant: Hours
Originally written 11/23/7
OK, I know what you’re thinking. “Geez, it’s been a while since he’s done one of these. And it’s Thanksgiving no less, so I am sure it’s full of holiday venom. Or at least rum” But it’s not music specific, as much as it is retail specific. I know a lot of my readers are retail warriors. And as such, I am sure they are nestled in their beds, thoughts of dread running through their heads. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the holiday shopping season. Tomorrow is Black Friday. And it’s getting out of hand.
On the news tonight, there was a story about a Comp USA that was opening up at 9 tonight. You wouldn’t believe how many people were in line all day. One of their big draws was a laptop for $500. The first guy in line got there at 1 today. Either he is the biggest motard going, or really needs another PC to hold all his porn. His wife came by to drop off his Tgiving dinner. Which he ate on the sidewalk. Really, is a fucking PC that important that you have to miss Tgiving with your family? If your family is annoying, then I guess it is. Turns out that even though Comp USA heavily advertised this 500 PC, the store only had 7. Fucking seven. Really, is that fair? Talk about your bait and switch. I am sure that whatever model the PC is, each store usually carries a lot more than fucking 7 of them. Shit like that really fires me up. What fires me up even more is that there are employees who have to sacrifice their holiday to work.
There’s not a lot of places that need to be open on Tgiving. I can only think of a few. Maybe a supermarket, but just for a few hours in the morning. Gas stations. Wawas (Philly area kickass convenience store). 7-11s are rightfully open, since most of their employees don’t celebrate Tgiving, and yes, you know what I mean by that. Adult store, because no one should be alone on Tgiving. Maybe a few bars at night. Outside of that, everything else should be closed so people can enjoy the day with their families.
The CVS at the top of my street was open all day today. Why? So some himbo can pick up a can of Axe? I passed by it a few times today. It looked like there were some shoppers in there in the morning, but the parking lot was empty tonight. Even though I detest fucking CVS, there are still people in there, maybe they had to inconvenience their families to work the night shift and sell a few packs of cigs and Red Bull.
There are stores opening up at 4 fucking AM tomorrow. That’s just not right. How can a retail warrior enjoy dinner, when they know they have to go to bed (probably sober, too) early, to wake up even more early, to go deal with total shitheads for hours on end? If you never worked retail, count yourself lucky, it can be a thankless job. I know, I worked record stores for 9 years. It’s not like these sales magically happen. Most stores will make employees work late Weds night to set up the Black Friday sales. If a store opens up at 4, it’s a safe bet that employees have to be there at least an hour before opening. So factor in getting ready and driving, it is an ordeal. Let’s face it, it takes a “special” kind of person to even do Black Friday, so you can expect a lot of attitude, rudeness and ignorance. If we want to raise the IQ of this country, we should just bomb the parking lots in the morning. We’d be doing ourselves a favor.
People will be bitching since the store has too few items like the Comp USA PC. Idiot shoppers will be tired of standing in line in the cold and dark. And when those doors open up, look out. A human wave of idiocy washes in. I always enjoy watching the news at noon on Black Friday. It never fails. There’s always video of some Target or Walmart opening up in the middle of the night, and the white trash barges in. Yup, that’s a trampling. Never fails. This year I’m guessing we will see such scenes from Texas and Minnesota. Check me if I’m wrong. Of course, we will also see shoppers getting into fights. Who’s going to get the last of the 3 available HDTVs? There’s always yelling and finger pointing. I find it comical. People, is it really worth the hassle? The hassle of getting up early, waiting in the cold dark, and then getting all WWE when the doors open? To me, the answer is clearly no.
I was leafing through the sale papers today. Sure, there’s some good prices, but I still don’t think it’s worth it. You can’t put a pricetag on sleeping late in a nice warm comfy bed. Some prices are tempting, hell, today I saw great prices on crap I didn’t even know I wanted. I don’t know about you guys, but if I was to even fathom to attempt any Black Friday shopping, it sure as hell would be to buy ME shit. You think I wanna put up with all this shit to get a cheap sweater for Aunt Jeanne? Hell no.
So why is this an industry rant? Because the people in the various Ivory Castles who make these ludicrous decisions don’t even work those hours. No, those people are home, or maybe they got to travel for Tgiving. They don’t have to go to bed early on Tgiving. They don’t have to show up to a store at 3 AM. They don’t have to deal with all the headaches that come with it. No, they’re the ones that deep discount an item, then make sure each store only gets like 5 of them. Who does the consumer vent at? Those in the Ivory Castle? Hell, no, it’s the poor schmuck who isn’t getting paid enough to deal with this shit. Most FYE managers are now required to work 6 day, 60 hours weeks now. All while their corporate office flacks are at home, drinking hot cocoa, and probably laughing at the retail warrior. Having a 4 day weekend while Rome burns. I don’t know how working 6 day 60 hour weeks is conducive to family time of just life in general. The managers are salaried, so it’s not even like they’re making OT or anything.
Somewhere along the line, this whole Black Friday thing got way outta control. And now it’s a pissing match. One big store opens at 4, well, now another one has to open at 3. Fuck, Kmart was open all day today. That’s pretty fucking unfair to the workers there, who surely miss out on some family time. There are outlet stores here that are opening at midnight. How can any of those employees enjoy Tgiving, when they know they have to go to work right after? The Comp USA I talked about above was supposed to close at 12, now they might not close till sometime this morning since there are still so many people there.
There’s all kinda of gimmicks now to get you in the store at fucking 5AM. Coupons or sales that are only good till 11. So does that mean you have to be in line by 11? Rung up by 11? You just know there’s gonna be bitching. Some places have discounts first thing in the morning, and as the day goes on, the discounts decrease every hour. So now I have to take a frigging calculator to Kohl’s to figure this shit out? Some places give you x amount of store dollars the more you spend. But you only have a week or so to use the store dollars. That, and you can’t use them when the sun is up, the stars are out, that fucking Bruce Springsteen Xmas song is playing and on days ending in ‘y’, so good luck with that.
Now it’s a necessary evil to do it. It’s all about the Benjamins. I know I’m just screaming at the wall here (which keeps waking my wife up, BTW). Every year, I see tons of people doing the Black Friday thing. Store shelves are wiped clean. Carts and carts of goods are wheeled out to cars. Motards raving about how much money they saved, and all their shopping is done. Fuck off, no one wants to hear that shit. Retail giants trumpet the lavish numbers they did. And I feel so sorry for the retail warriors who have to put up with all the bullshit on a store level. The decision makers work their 9-5 Mon-Fri gig at the corp office, then saunter off to the weekend, while the guys I know are left explaining why they’re sold out of loss leader item X.
So tomorrow, take a few minutes to think of the retail folk. Retail readers, I will be thinking of you through out the weekend.
OK, I know what you’re thinking. “Geez, it’s been a while since he’s done one of these. And it’s Thanksgiving no less, so I am sure it’s full of holiday venom. Or at least rum” But it’s not music specific, as much as it is retail specific. I know a lot of my readers are retail warriors. And as such, I am sure they are nestled in their beds, thoughts of dread running through their heads. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the holiday shopping season. Tomorrow is Black Friday. And it’s getting out of hand.
On the news tonight, there was a story about a Comp USA that was opening up at 9 tonight. You wouldn’t believe how many people were in line all day. One of their big draws was a laptop for $500. The first guy in line got there at 1 today. Either he is the biggest motard going, or really needs another PC to hold all his porn. His wife came by to drop off his Tgiving dinner. Which he ate on the sidewalk. Really, is a fucking PC that important that you have to miss Tgiving with your family? If your family is annoying, then I guess it is. Turns out that even though Comp USA heavily advertised this 500 PC, the store only had 7. Fucking seven. Really, is that fair? Talk about your bait and switch. I am sure that whatever model the PC is, each store usually carries a lot more than fucking 7 of them. Shit like that really fires me up. What fires me up even more is that there are employees who have to sacrifice their holiday to work.
There’s not a lot of places that need to be open on Tgiving. I can only think of a few. Maybe a supermarket, but just for a few hours in the morning. Gas stations. Wawas (Philly area kickass convenience store). 7-11s are rightfully open, since most of their employees don’t celebrate Tgiving, and yes, you know what I mean by that. Adult store, because no one should be alone on Tgiving. Maybe a few bars at night. Outside of that, everything else should be closed so people can enjoy the day with their families.
The CVS at the top of my street was open all day today. Why? So some himbo can pick up a can of Axe? I passed by it a few times today. It looked like there were some shoppers in there in the morning, but the parking lot was empty tonight. Even though I detest fucking CVS, there are still people in there, maybe they had to inconvenience their families to work the night shift and sell a few packs of cigs and Red Bull.
There are stores opening up at 4 fucking AM tomorrow. That’s just not right. How can a retail warrior enjoy dinner, when they know they have to go to bed (probably sober, too) early, to wake up even more early, to go deal with total shitheads for hours on end? If you never worked retail, count yourself lucky, it can be a thankless job. I know, I worked record stores for 9 years. It’s not like these sales magically happen. Most stores will make employees work late Weds night to set up the Black Friday sales. If a store opens up at 4, it’s a safe bet that employees have to be there at least an hour before opening. So factor in getting ready and driving, it is an ordeal. Let’s face it, it takes a “special” kind of person to even do Black Friday, so you can expect a lot of attitude, rudeness and ignorance. If we want to raise the IQ of this country, we should just bomb the parking lots in the morning. We’d be doing ourselves a favor.
People will be bitching since the store has too few items like the Comp USA PC. Idiot shoppers will be tired of standing in line in the cold and dark. And when those doors open up, look out. A human wave of idiocy washes in. I always enjoy watching the news at noon on Black Friday. It never fails. There’s always video of some Target or Walmart opening up in the middle of the night, and the white trash barges in. Yup, that’s a trampling. Never fails. This year I’m guessing we will see such scenes from Texas and Minnesota. Check me if I’m wrong. Of course, we will also see shoppers getting into fights. Who’s going to get the last of the 3 available HDTVs? There’s always yelling and finger pointing. I find it comical. People, is it really worth the hassle? The hassle of getting up early, waiting in the cold dark, and then getting all WWE when the doors open? To me, the answer is clearly no.
I was leafing through the sale papers today. Sure, there’s some good prices, but I still don’t think it’s worth it. You can’t put a pricetag on sleeping late in a nice warm comfy bed. Some prices are tempting, hell, today I saw great prices on crap I didn’t even know I wanted. I don’t know about you guys, but if I was to even fathom to attempt any Black Friday shopping, it sure as hell would be to buy ME shit. You think I wanna put up with all this shit to get a cheap sweater for Aunt Jeanne? Hell no.
So why is this an industry rant? Because the people in the various Ivory Castles who make these ludicrous decisions don’t even work those hours. No, those people are home, or maybe they got to travel for Tgiving. They don’t have to go to bed early on Tgiving. They don’t have to show up to a store at 3 AM. They don’t have to deal with all the headaches that come with it. No, they’re the ones that deep discount an item, then make sure each store only gets like 5 of them. Who does the consumer vent at? Those in the Ivory Castle? Hell, no, it’s the poor schmuck who isn’t getting paid enough to deal with this shit. Most FYE managers are now required to work 6 day, 60 hours weeks now. All while their corporate office flacks are at home, drinking hot cocoa, and probably laughing at the retail warrior. Having a 4 day weekend while Rome burns. I don’t know how working 6 day 60 hour weeks is conducive to family time of just life in general. The managers are salaried, so it’s not even like they’re making OT or anything.
Somewhere along the line, this whole Black Friday thing got way outta control. And now it’s a pissing match. One big store opens at 4, well, now another one has to open at 3. Fuck, Kmart was open all day today. That’s pretty fucking unfair to the workers there, who surely miss out on some family time. There are outlet stores here that are opening at midnight. How can any of those employees enjoy Tgiving, when they know they have to go to work right after? The Comp USA I talked about above was supposed to close at 12, now they might not close till sometime this morning since there are still so many people there.
There’s all kinda of gimmicks now to get you in the store at fucking 5AM. Coupons or sales that are only good till 11. So does that mean you have to be in line by 11? Rung up by 11? You just know there’s gonna be bitching. Some places have discounts first thing in the morning, and as the day goes on, the discounts decrease every hour. So now I have to take a frigging calculator to Kohl’s to figure this shit out? Some places give you x amount of store dollars the more you spend. But you only have a week or so to use the store dollars. That, and you can’t use them when the sun is up, the stars are out, that fucking Bruce Springsteen Xmas song is playing and on days ending in ‘y’, so good luck with that.
Now it’s a necessary evil to do it. It’s all about the Benjamins. I know I’m just screaming at the wall here (which keeps waking my wife up, BTW). Every year, I see tons of people doing the Black Friday thing. Store shelves are wiped clean. Carts and carts of goods are wheeled out to cars. Motards raving about how much money they saved, and all their shopping is done. Fuck off, no one wants to hear that shit. Retail giants trumpet the lavish numbers they did. And I feel so sorry for the retail warriors who have to put up with all the bullshit on a store level. The decision makers work their 9-5 Mon-Fri gig at the corp office, then saunter off to the weekend, while the guys I know are left explaining why they’re sold out of loss leader item X.
So tomorrow, take a few minutes to think of the retail folk. Retail readers, I will be thinking of you through out the weekend.
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