As a big baseball fan, opening day is one of the best days of the year...or at least it used to be. The stench of steroids and human growth hormone (HGH) has dimmed my love of the game. I still love baseball....but its sort of the way you love a psycho bitch who is great in the sack. You love it when its good and you're watching your shoulder the rest of the time. It'll either give you a rise and put a shank in your back and you never know when either is coming. I might have dismissed baseball completely if it weren't for the Cleveland Indians. I've been a Tribe fan all my life and with them in contention to win their first World Series since 1948, its hard to walk away from them now.
In defense of my Tribe, only one current Indian, Paul Byrd, has been linked to the Mitchell Report. Byrd admits to using HGH but funny how the admission only came after the media broke the story before game 7 of last year's ALCS. Byrd did have a prescription for HGH...from a dentist! The Mitchell Report gave me a whole host of new reasons to loathe the Yankees. Damn near the whole team was in the report.
A few predictions for the MLB season....The Red Sox will not repeat, the Yankees will not make the playoffs (bad pitching), and the Cubs will complete their 100th year of not winning a World Series....In the AL I like the Angels, Indians and Red Sox to win their divisions with the Mariners taking the Wild Card....I'm taking the Angels to beat my Indians in the ALCS....In the NL, there are no dominant teams.....I'm taking the Phillies, Cubs and Diamondbacks to win their divisions with the Braves as the Wild Card. I'm picking an Angels and Phillies World Series with the Angels winning in five games.
Predictions having been made...I must confess....I think its bad luck to pick the team you follow to win the World Series. Cubs are a popular pick to reverse their curse this year but I'm convinced God hates the Cubs so I'm not gonna go against the wishes of the Almighty.
Kudos to the O.M.O.M. for pinch hitting and delivering a grand slam of a post to wrap up last week and the S'March of Metal (I know today is the last day of March but I'm too lazy to look up videos on YouTube that won't end up posting to the blog anyway). Make sure to check out the O.M.O.M.'s photography at his website www.fromoutofnowhere.com.
This story broke Friday but in case you missed it Poison Drummer Rikki Rockett (real name...wait for it...Richard "Dick" Reams) has been arrested and charged with rape. This case seems to have BS written all over it tho. The woman claims the crime took place in September. Its now nearly April and he's just now getting charged with this? Plus Rikki was released WITHOUT bail....cuz the Mississippi prosecutor's office (where the crime allegedly took place) aren't sure if they are gonna even bother extraditing him. Now I find Rikki's plight to be humorous in that it opens the doors for so many reality shows....As you know, Poison singer Bret Michaels has his Rock of Love..now Rikki Rockett can have his own too...Rape of Love? Or if the drummer gets convicted, maybe he can choose the inmate that will make him his bitch? Maybe Poison can do a reality show to find a new drummer...who will also fall in love with Bret...call it Beat of Love....
Watched a ton of movies over the weekend....Didn't think much of American Gangster...too long, factually inaccurate, and disappointing....Much to my surprise I enjoyed Atonement. Michael Clayton was also a good way to spend two hours of my Saturday. The best flick I saw tho was Gone Baby Gone. Who knew that Ben Affleck was capable of directing such a fine movie? Gone Baby Gone is one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. Great story and fine acting. Its based on the book by Dennis Lehane, the same guy who wrote Mystic River. Trust me, you'll like it.
I watched about 10 minutes of Celebrity Fitclub this weekend...they call these people celebrities? Tina Yothers? Willie Aames? Skreech? AJ Benza? The dude who used to host American Idol...Dunkleman? Erin Moran, Joannie from Happy Days? Two black women I've never heard of? These are celebrities? These are stars? No, these are pathetic low lifes....cockroaches scurrying about for a few more moments in the spotlight....Here's an idea....Celebrity Brigade....we take our washed up, has been "celebrities" and we turn them into fighting machines and set them loose in the streets of Iraq. C'mon who doesn't want to see Jimmie "J.J." Walker (DYNO-MITE!) become a munitions expert? Lets see if Mr. T can still pull of his A Team character....Scott Baio is 46 single, pregnant and missing in action. I think it would be a hit and we would be bringing the real troops home.
I'm off to go pitch that idea to VH1....enjoy the last day of March.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
S'March of Metal: Anthrax-Anti-Social
Was never a huge fan of Anthrax but I think Scott Ian is a cool dude. Good player. Great beard these days. Smart enough to realize he was going bald and shaved his noggin'. Which means he's smarter than Bret Michaels, Gene Simmons and Don Dokken...but then, who isn't?
And Now A Few Moments with the O.M.O.M.
A first today in the history of the BlastFurniss, to celebrate the S'March of Metal, the O.M.O.M. has been gracious enough to supply a few words. Enjoy!
The gatekeeper of all things BlastFurniss, E.S. Furniss, invited me to spew forth an essay for the S’March of Metal festivities at his always-entertaining blog. First off, I’d like to thank E.S.; his blog is a ray of stimulating ideas and thoughts in my otherwise cloudy workday of close-minded simplicity.
Some of you may have seen my asinine comments at this very blog. Others may know my photo/video/beer swilling arse and wonder just why I’m showing up here. I wonder that also and I’ll do my best not to drop the quality of BlastFurniss to unacceptable levels. The Metal genre is primarily a male inhabited domain and I realize that women tend to nod off, or flat out run the other way, when the topic of Heavy Metal is broached. I encourage the ladies of BlastFurniss to stick around today and maybe I can give you some insight to how the male mind works. It’s just my way of helping you understand the whole Men Are From Mars, Women Are From That Field Where They Filmed The Massengill Commercial phenomenon.
Metal is a very divisive genre; one man’s Slayer is another’s Def Leppard. Instead of discussing history, sub-genres or the dividing line between Hard Rock and Metal, I’m going to talk about the single biggest threat to Heavy Metal and those behind it. That’s right brothers and sisters; we’re going to take a peek at The Pussification Of America, or POA.
In the 1980’s metalheads cried that the PMRC (go google it, youngsters) were evil incarnate and would eventually wipe Metal from the record shops of America. Well the PMRC is an old ladies knitting club compared to POA. The PMRC focused primarily on music and movies that they deemed offensive or detrimental to 80’s youth. POA encompasses a much wider scope, going as far as even ignoring Metal. POA has adults worrying about rain and snow (Storm Team Alert!!) in way our parents never even thought about. POA has parents outfitting their bicycle-riding children like WWII soldiers hitting the beaches of Normandy. POA has our workplaces so politically correct that pretty much anything out of your mouth can send you walking the green mile to visit HR.
Thanks to POA, men aren’t allowed to be pissed off or angry anymore lest ye be deemed “emotionally unstable.” Try doing a home or auto repair project while a woman is nearby. Invariably, something will go wrong, a vital part will break, a wrench will slip or things will just not go at all how you expected. At this point, men of previous generations would throw a wrench, cuss for five minutes, have a beer and then reassess the situation. If the POA era DIY-er tries that, within the next 12-24 hours a woman will bring up the topic, “I think you have an anger management problem and should see a doctor…”
I’m sure you are wondering exactly what the hell my above ramblings have to do with Heavy Metal. Metal is the refuge of the pissed, Metal embraces you when you are angry, Metal cheers you up when you are depressed, Metal makes you raise your fist, shout and celebrate. Metal makes you feel alive. Metal takes aggressive emotions and distills them into music we can relate to.
Pissed, angry, depressed: terms that are considered undesirable or abhorrent in today’s world. Thanks to our fine pharmaceutical companies, our Oprah and Dr. Phil obsessed culture and doctors needing to pay for their BMW’s, you need never worry about displaying an emotion again.
Don’t mistake this for some kooky Tom Cruise-ian rant, I just think that our lives are over prescribed and over analyzed. I’m sure some pills might have kept good old Jeff Dahmer from drilling holes in his boy toys skulls. Mental health is a serious issue; I just don’t see where getting stressed, pissed or bummed out from time to time is a problem.
My last visit to the doctor, I sat in a waiting room full of C.H.U.D.’s for 30 minutes then was placed in a tiny exam room to sit for another 45 minutes in my skivvies. When the doctor arrived, I proceeded to rip his ass for wasting an hour plus of my time away from work, where I’m trying to earn money to pay his bill. He then had a 10-minute chat with me about how my getting aggravated isn’t healthy (or “normal”) and he could prescribe me with some wonderful pills that would keep me from getting upset over things. I just laughed at his suggestions, got in my car and cranked up Pantera’s Vulgar Display Of Power. In five minutes, I was bobbing my head and in a great mood. I guess I’m just an a-hole for expecting him to keep deadlines just like my employer expects me to. In POA, people aren’t supposed to be upset when kept waiting for long periods of time.
Walk around your local Wal-Mart and look at the lack of thought behind the eyes of the sheep, hell, drive around your local burg and count how long it takes people to respond to a green light. Thanks to POA and the happy pills that further the cause, we’ve become a nation of emotionless zombies who experience neither lows nor highs. Today’s youth are so jacked up on Ritalin and other mood altering drugs that Metal music is just noise to them. Who needs angry music when you are no longer angry?
Damn straight I’m angry, hell I’m angrier now than when I was a teenager. In my late teens-early 20’s I had no one to worry about but myself; it took little to get me by. If I didn’t like my job, I could quit at a moment’s notice. Now, I have a family to worry about; if I don’t like my job, tough cookies bub, you have others to provide for. Time to suck up to the teat of corporate America and take your beating. Metal keeps me going now more than ever. On your morning commute to a crap job? Crank up “Manowar” by Manowar and the day starts a little smoother. A rough week of dealing with teenagers, spouse, bills? Crank up some Slayer, it will make you coo like a baby and mellow you out more than a fistful of Prozac ever could.
Show me an adult male that lists Jack Johnson and John Mayer among his favorite artists and I’ll show you a medicated (castrated) man that has fallen prey to Pussification Of America. I see a Jack Johnson video and I dream of a 1970’s Robert Plant and Jimmy Page materializing to violate him with a mudshark (once again kids, google it). I hear a John Mayer song and I pray for Tony Iommi to drop a stack of Marshalls on John’s pouty face. I wouldn’t have these wonderful thoughts if I were doped up on happy juice, I’d probably get nervous and sick to my stomach if a Black Sabbath tune came out of the speakers.
Embrace your Metal, don’t pass it off as a teenage “phase.” Metal is fun, loud and immature. Metal will keep you from becoming your parents. Metal will make the crappy things seem less crappy. Metal will keep those POA bastards at bay for another day. So crank up some Judas Priest, let your kid take a lap without the bicycle helmet and live a little.
Hail And Kill,
O.M.O.M.
The gatekeeper of all things BlastFurniss, E.S. Furniss, invited me to spew forth an essay for the S’March of Metal festivities at his always-entertaining blog. First off, I’d like to thank E.S.; his blog is a ray of stimulating ideas and thoughts in my otherwise cloudy workday of close-minded simplicity.
Some of you may have seen my asinine comments at this very blog. Others may know my photo/video/beer swilling arse and wonder just why I’m showing up here. I wonder that also and I’ll do my best not to drop the quality of BlastFurniss to unacceptable levels. The Metal genre is primarily a male inhabited domain and I realize that women tend to nod off, or flat out run the other way, when the topic of Heavy Metal is broached. I encourage the ladies of BlastFurniss to stick around today and maybe I can give you some insight to how the male mind works. It’s just my way of helping you understand the whole Men Are From Mars, Women Are From That Field Where They Filmed The Massengill Commercial phenomenon.
Metal is a very divisive genre; one man’s Slayer is another’s Def Leppard. Instead of discussing history, sub-genres or the dividing line between Hard Rock and Metal, I’m going to talk about the single biggest threat to Heavy Metal and those behind it. That’s right brothers and sisters; we’re going to take a peek at The Pussification Of America, or POA.
In the 1980’s metalheads cried that the PMRC (go google it, youngsters) were evil incarnate and would eventually wipe Metal from the record shops of America. Well the PMRC is an old ladies knitting club compared to POA. The PMRC focused primarily on music and movies that they deemed offensive or detrimental to 80’s youth. POA encompasses a much wider scope, going as far as even ignoring Metal. POA has adults worrying about rain and snow (Storm Team Alert!!) in way our parents never even thought about. POA has parents outfitting their bicycle-riding children like WWII soldiers hitting the beaches of Normandy. POA has our workplaces so politically correct that pretty much anything out of your mouth can send you walking the green mile to visit HR.
Thanks to POA, men aren’t allowed to be pissed off or angry anymore lest ye be deemed “emotionally unstable.” Try doing a home or auto repair project while a woman is nearby. Invariably, something will go wrong, a vital part will break, a wrench will slip or things will just not go at all how you expected. At this point, men of previous generations would throw a wrench, cuss for five minutes, have a beer and then reassess the situation. If the POA era DIY-er tries that, within the next 12-24 hours a woman will bring up the topic, “I think you have an anger management problem and should see a doctor…”
I’m sure you are wondering exactly what the hell my above ramblings have to do with Heavy Metal. Metal is the refuge of the pissed, Metal embraces you when you are angry, Metal cheers you up when you are depressed, Metal makes you raise your fist, shout and celebrate. Metal makes you feel alive. Metal takes aggressive emotions and distills them into music we can relate to.
Pissed, angry, depressed: terms that are considered undesirable or abhorrent in today’s world. Thanks to our fine pharmaceutical companies, our Oprah and Dr. Phil obsessed culture and doctors needing to pay for their BMW’s, you need never worry about displaying an emotion again.
Don’t mistake this for some kooky Tom Cruise-ian rant, I just think that our lives are over prescribed and over analyzed. I’m sure some pills might have kept good old Jeff Dahmer from drilling holes in his boy toys skulls. Mental health is a serious issue; I just don’t see where getting stressed, pissed or bummed out from time to time is a problem.
My last visit to the doctor, I sat in a waiting room full of C.H.U.D.’s for 30 minutes then was placed in a tiny exam room to sit for another 45 minutes in my skivvies. When the doctor arrived, I proceeded to rip his ass for wasting an hour plus of my time away from work, where I’m trying to earn money to pay his bill. He then had a 10-minute chat with me about how my getting aggravated isn’t healthy (or “normal”) and he could prescribe me with some wonderful pills that would keep me from getting upset over things. I just laughed at his suggestions, got in my car and cranked up Pantera’s Vulgar Display Of Power. In five minutes, I was bobbing my head and in a great mood. I guess I’m just an a-hole for expecting him to keep deadlines just like my employer expects me to. In POA, people aren’t supposed to be upset when kept waiting for long periods of time.
Walk around your local Wal-Mart and look at the lack of thought behind the eyes of the sheep, hell, drive around your local burg and count how long it takes people to respond to a green light. Thanks to POA and the happy pills that further the cause, we’ve become a nation of emotionless zombies who experience neither lows nor highs. Today’s youth are so jacked up on Ritalin and other mood altering drugs that Metal music is just noise to them. Who needs angry music when you are no longer angry?
Damn straight I’m angry, hell I’m angrier now than when I was a teenager. In my late teens-early 20’s I had no one to worry about but myself; it took little to get me by. If I didn’t like my job, I could quit at a moment’s notice. Now, I have a family to worry about; if I don’t like my job, tough cookies bub, you have others to provide for. Time to suck up to the teat of corporate America and take your beating. Metal keeps me going now more than ever. On your morning commute to a crap job? Crank up “Manowar” by Manowar and the day starts a little smoother. A rough week of dealing with teenagers, spouse, bills? Crank up some Slayer, it will make you coo like a baby and mellow you out more than a fistful of Prozac ever could.
Show me an adult male that lists Jack Johnson and John Mayer among his favorite artists and I’ll show you a medicated (castrated) man that has fallen prey to Pussification Of America. I see a Jack Johnson video and I dream of a 1970’s Robert Plant and Jimmy Page materializing to violate him with a mudshark (once again kids, google it). I hear a John Mayer song and I pray for Tony Iommi to drop a stack of Marshalls on John’s pouty face. I wouldn’t have these wonderful thoughts if I were doped up on happy juice, I’d probably get nervous and sick to my stomach if a Black Sabbath tune came out of the speakers.
Embrace your Metal, don’t pass it off as a teenage “phase.” Metal is fun, loud and immature. Metal will keep you from becoming your parents. Metal will make the crappy things seem less crappy. Metal will keep those POA bastards at bay for another day. So crank up some Judas Priest, let your kid take a lap without the bicycle helmet and live a little.
Hail And Kill,
O.M.O.M.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Moment of Truth My Ass
Would it be too much to ask to have two nice days in a row? Its no wonder the suicide rates are up. You wake up to gun powder skies and you just want to hang yourself rather than start the day kowtowing to your corporate overlords. Its amazing how my energy level dwindles according to the weather. There's some kinda clinical diagnosis for people who get depressed when the weather is lousy but about the only thing I find myself in agreement with Scientologists on is psychiatry. Ok...maybe I'm not that extreme. But just like we have a pill to "treat" (no one ever cures anything...the money is made in treatment, not cures) medical conditions, now every mood, every blip in our mental health is given a name. Can't we just have good moods and bad moods without being called bipolar? It doesn't take much to perk me up...heck, if someone brings in Krispy Kremes to work today it'll instantly become a good day.
The wife enjoys that new game show on Fox, The Moment of Truth. I'm sure you've at least seen the commercials....they hook you up to a lie detector and ask you 50 questions. If you're telling the truth, you make some serious cash. Lie and go home empty handed. Last night was the first time I've ever made it thru an entire episode and I must say, I'm continually amazed at how people will exploit themselves and destroy those around them in hopes of winning vast amounts of cash. The idiot contestants I could care less about. I think if they lie they should be subjected to a propane enema. They deserve whatever happens to them. Its their family members that I feel sorry for. They find out that their daughter is a tramp, their son a compulsive gambler who wears women's clothes, and that their spouse wishes they'd never married them but instead wishes she'd married the smarmy, abusive former boyfriend. Maybe its because I'm a foolishly decent human being (well, sometimes) but I would never put my spouse or family thru that kind of embarrassment. Its horrifying what people will do for 15 minutes of fame and a few greenbacks. I've decided that in watching this show I'm just as dirty as the idiots who go on the damn thing. This show is even worse than America's Funniest Videos....the humiliating kick in the crotch just isn't funny.
Exploiting people on national tv isn't anything new...Springer and Maury perfected this a long time ago. I guess the difference is that those talk shows really aren't any different than a circus freak show. Maury just substitutes baby daddys for the bearded lady. The Moment of Truth passes itself off as a game show and games are supposed to be entertaining. This show makes the girls on Bret Michaels Rock of Love look like saints by comparison. At least on Rock of Love the girls are only whoring themselves out on national tv. Sure their families might be embarrassed by their daughters antics, but at least they do it off camera. I've been slaughtered, gutted, and heartbroken by lots of women and at least they had the decency to do it privately.
Here's the real moment of truth: Why is it that the American people love to watch these train wrecks air their dirty laundry publicly? Its because we are a sick society that enjoys watching the carnage of the crash. Thanks to Tivo we can now freeze frame the exact moment where someones heart gets ripped out and rewind it over and over so we can relish in their misery. The Moment of Truth is like Prozac, Lexipro, Xanax and all the other mood altering chemicals we're being force fed......it numbs us to our own reality. There are no moments of truth, only an extended period of lies.
Coming tomorrow...a special guest blog from the legendary Old Man of Metal...Don't miss it.
The wife enjoys that new game show on Fox, The Moment of Truth. I'm sure you've at least seen the commercials....they hook you up to a lie detector and ask you 50 questions. If you're telling the truth, you make some serious cash. Lie and go home empty handed. Last night was the first time I've ever made it thru an entire episode and I must say, I'm continually amazed at how people will exploit themselves and destroy those around them in hopes of winning vast amounts of cash. The idiot contestants I could care less about. I think if they lie they should be subjected to a propane enema. They deserve whatever happens to them. Its their family members that I feel sorry for. They find out that their daughter is a tramp, their son a compulsive gambler who wears women's clothes, and that their spouse wishes they'd never married them but instead wishes she'd married the smarmy, abusive former boyfriend. Maybe its because I'm a foolishly decent human being (well, sometimes) but I would never put my spouse or family thru that kind of embarrassment. Its horrifying what people will do for 15 minutes of fame and a few greenbacks. I've decided that in watching this show I'm just as dirty as the idiots who go on the damn thing. This show is even worse than America's Funniest Videos....the humiliating kick in the crotch just isn't funny.
Exploiting people on national tv isn't anything new...Springer and Maury perfected this a long time ago. I guess the difference is that those talk shows really aren't any different than a circus freak show. Maury just substitutes baby daddys for the bearded lady. The Moment of Truth passes itself off as a game show and games are supposed to be entertaining. This show makes the girls on Bret Michaels Rock of Love look like saints by comparison. At least on Rock of Love the girls are only whoring themselves out on national tv. Sure their families might be embarrassed by their daughters antics, but at least they do it off camera. I've been slaughtered, gutted, and heartbroken by lots of women and at least they had the decency to do it privately.
Here's the real moment of truth: Why is it that the American people love to watch these train wrecks air their dirty laundry publicly? Its because we are a sick society that enjoys watching the carnage of the crash. Thanks to Tivo we can now freeze frame the exact moment where someones heart gets ripped out and rewind it over and over so we can relish in their misery. The Moment of Truth is like Prozac, Lexipro, Xanax and all the other mood altering chemicals we're being force fed......it numbs us to our own reality. There are no moments of truth, only an extended period of lies.
Coming tomorrow...a special guest blog from the legendary Old Man of Metal...Don't miss it.
S'March of Metal: SINNER- Diary Of Evil
Considering its the country that produced Wagner (the first heavy metal composer), its no surprise Germans love metal. Sure only the Scorpions or Accept have had big success (well, I don't know if Accept was BIG really) but Germans dig the metal. Take Sinner...they've been around and in relative obscurity for 25 years.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I'm Old
There's nothing more I enjoy than a good rock show. I've told many people that for me going to see a Springsteen show gives me the same spiritual uplift that a good churchgoer gets from their Sunday sermon. Monday's show was great..however, I spent yesterday just as tired as all get out. I was in bed by 8 o'clock last night. My back hurt, my legs ached and I was just exhausted. It wasn't that long ago it seems that I could stay up all night and go to work the next day and I'd be fine. Those days are long, long gone. Further proof of my advancing years, I took a look at my hair yesterday and was amazed by the amount of gray I'm sporting. So, due for a haircut anyway, I had my hair cut shorter than normal just so I wouldn't have to see the stuff. Its just a stop gap solution...they'll be back and stronger in numbers. Getting old blows but it beats death...most days anyway.
Springsteen show was killer. Band was tight. Something in the Night, Sherry Darling, Something in the Night and the glorious return of Rosalita were highlights. The setlist continues to heavily feature tunes from the new record Magic and they were mostly well received by the lame ass crowd. I thought I was old. The section me and Rory were in was filled by a bunch of people who didn't want to get off their asses to save their lives. After all the hubbub over the Cinci show on Saturday, it was good to see the band in fine form and rockin' hard. The Boss even barked at the Mighty Max Weinberg twice early on in the set to hammer down on those snares a little harder. According to internet reports the Springsteen boys, both teens, were spotted in the pit area with their arms crossed and a look of misery on their faces. Like most kids, they probably hate it when Dad takes them to the office. I bet they sure enjoy the lifestyle that Daddy's money provides tho.
Sometimes there is justice in the world....a bailout of Clear Channel, the evil empire that rules all of radio, appears in doubt due to, you guessed it, credit problems. I love to see Clear Channel suffer. They ruined radio and the concert industry so its nice to see them suffer in financial purgatory. The Justice Department has given the go ahead to the Sirius takeover of XM...now its on to the FCC for final approval. The FCC, one of the worst arms of the federal government, would be foolish to turn this merger down. Sure it would only leave one satellite radio provider but there is still competition out there in the market...namely Ipods. All I ask Sirius in return is not to raise my monthly charge any higher.
Considering how many jobs have been outsourced, I guess its only fitting that opening day of the baseball season was outsourced to Japan.
The more I see of Mrs. Clinton, Barry Hussein Obama, and Grandpa Munster (aka McCain) the more I'm certain that moving to Canada would be a wise move. I was telling people the other day that this nominating process has played out way too long. Under the BlastFurniss plan, a candidate would not be able to declare their candidacy until January 1 of the election year. A nationwide primary would be held the day after Memorial Day. Presidential Election Day's would be a national holiday. Everyone gets the day off. All businesses, including gas stations and grocery stores would be closed. Election Day would also be sponsored so it would have the feel of the Super Bowl (or at least a NASCAR event). People could tailgate outside their polling places and just turn it into one big party.
Someone asked me today "Did you watch American Idol last night?" "No", I replied "I have good taste in music."
Looks like YouTube and Blogger magically posted my delayed vids so I'll try to get some more S'March of Metal stuff up ASAP.
Some random thoughts from the Springsteen show:
I'd love to be 58 years old and move like the Boss. Dude is just amazing. I've never seen anyone with that kinda stage presence.
Nils Lofgren is the greatest 2nd guitarist ever. A truly underrated player.
Clarence Clemons is 66 years old. Has had two knees and a hip replaced. And he's BIG. REAL BIG. But when that man plays that horn magic happens. A lot of Bruce fans think the Boss has potential replacements lined up for the Big Man for when he hangs it up. That's just foolishness. You don't replace the Big Man. Like the Boss says, "you wanna be like him but ya can't."
Steve Van Zandt reminds me a lot of Keith Richards, only without the drugs and cockroach and ashes snorting. Whether he's going by Little Steven, Miami Steve, or Silvio Dante, he's just a cool dude who just lives and loves rock and roll.
Patti Scialfa, Mrs. Springsteen, has been sitting out on this leg of the tour. I didn't miss her.
I know of no other performer, with the catalog Springsteen has, who can get away with playing so many tunes from a new record. The Stones couldn't get away with it...the Who couldnt' do it...the only other artist who might be able to get away so much new material is Neil Young.
Driving home from the show I thought to myself "If I die on the way home, at least I'll die a happy man." Something about hearing Rosalita live for the first time in 20 years did my heart good.
Adam Raised a Cain is quite possibly my favorite Springsteen tune. I'm always amazed when I hear it just how angry of a song it is. It is the greatest song about fathers and sons I've ever heard. When I would play it in my room as a kid I would relate it to my relationship with my father. Now when I hear it I wonder if this is how my kids think of me. If I were to ever have anything inscribed on a tombstone, I think I'd want it to be "You're born into this life paying, for the sins of somebody else's past."
That's all for now.....tomorrow I promise to post non-Springsteen fare....
Springsteen show was killer. Band was tight. Something in the Night, Sherry Darling, Something in the Night and the glorious return of Rosalita were highlights. The setlist continues to heavily feature tunes from the new record Magic and they were mostly well received by the lame ass crowd. I thought I was old. The section me and Rory were in was filled by a bunch of people who didn't want to get off their asses to save their lives. After all the hubbub over the Cinci show on Saturday, it was good to see the band in fine form and rockin' hard. The Boss even barked at the Mighty Max Weinberg twice early on in the set to hammer down on those snares a little harder. According to internet reports the Springsteen boys, both teens, were spotted in the pit area with their arms crossed and a look of misery on their faces. Like most kids, they probably hate it when Dad takes them to the office. I bet they sure enjoy the lifestyle that Daddy's money provides tho.
Sometimes there is justice in the world....a bailout of Clear Channel, the evil empire that rules all of radio, appears in doubt due to, you guessed it, credit problems. I love to see Clear Channel suffer. They ruined radio and the concert industry so its nice to see them suffer in financial purgatory. The Justice Department has given the go ahead to the Sirius takeover of XM...now its on to the FCC for final approval. The FCC, one of the worst arms of the federal government, would be foolish to turn this merger down. Sure it would only leave one satellite radio provider but there is still competition out there in the market...namely Ipods. All I ask Sirius in return is not to raise my monthly charge any higher.
Considering how many jobs have been outsourced, I guess its only fitting that opening day of the baseball season was outsourced to Japan.
The more I see of Mrs. Clinton, Barry Hussein Obama, and Grandpa Munster (aka McCain) the more I'm certain that moving to Canada would be a wise move. I was telling people the other day that this nominating process has played out way too long. Under the BlastFurniss plan, a candidate would not be able to declare their candidacy until January 1 of the election year. A nationwide primary would be held the day after Memorial Day. Presidential Election Day's would be a national holiday. Everyone gets the day off. All businesses, including gas stations and grocery stores would be closed. Election Day would also be sponsored so it would have the feel of the Super Bowl (or at least a NASCAR event). People could tailgate outside their polling places and just turn it into one big party.
Someone asked me today "Did you watch American Idol last night?" "No", I replied "I have good taste in music."
Looks like YouTube and Blogger magically posted my delayed vids so I'll try to get some more S'March of Metal stuff up ASAP.
Some random thoughts from the Springsteen show:
I'd love to be 58 years old and move like the Boss. Dude is just amazing. I've never seen anyone with that kinda stage presence.
Nils Lofgren is the greatest 2nd guitarist ever. A truly underrated player.
Clarence Clemons is 66 years old. Has had two knees and a hip replaced. And he's BIG. REAL BIG. But when that man plays that horn magic happens. A lot of Bruce fans think the Boss has potential replacements lined up for the Big Man for when he hangs it up. That's just foolishness. You don't replace the Big Man. Like the Boss says, "you wanna be like him but ya can't."
Steve Van Zandt reminds me a lot of Keith Richards, only without the drugs and cockroach and ashes snorting. Whether he's going by Little Steven, Miami Steve, or Silvio Dante, he's just a cool dude who just lives and loves rock and roll.
Patti Scialfa, Mrs. Springsteen, has been sitting out on this leg of the tour. I didn't miss her.
I know of no other performer, with the catalog Springsteen has, who can get away with playing so many tunes from a new record. The Stones couldn't get away with it...the Who couldnt' do it...the only other artist who might be able to get away so much new material is Neil Young.
Driving home from the show I thought to myself "If I die on the way home, at least I'll die a happy man." Something about hearing Rosalita live for the first time in 20 years did my heart good.
Adam Raised a Cain is quite possibly my favorite Springsteen tune. I'm always amazed when I hear it just how angry of a song it is. It is the greatest song about fathers and sons I've ever heard. When I would play it in my room as a kid I would relate it to my relationship with my father. Now when I hear it I wonder if this is how my kids think of me. If I were to ever have anything inscribed on a tombstone, I think I'd want it to be "You're born into this life paying, for the sins of somebody else's past."
That's all for now.....tomorrow I promise to post non-Springsteen fare....
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