Tonight’s the wedding (congratulations to Michael and Abbey!) and I just wanted to relax and didn’t want to be running around bugging people taking photos. But I wanted something to blog about so I wandered around my folks house to find something to take pictures of and lo and behold, what do I find but the remnants of my once might record collection in the bottom of my parents closet. Check it out. My collection was about 5,000 albums and a couple thousand CD's before I moved to New York. Along with my pension plan, I got some money to move to New York by selling everything I owned. I sold my car, my furniture, my clothes, my stereo, my TV and most of my albums and all of my CD’s. Here’s what’s left of my albums, some of them I didn’t want to sell and some of them nobody else wanted so I stored them here at my parents house. Let’s just take a random look at some of them.
Here's the Beatles "White Album." But it's not exactly white. I used to smoke pot in my bedroom and then draw all over my records.
See? This is the back of the "White Album." I had a full canvas to work with here.
Here's the Beatles, "Yesterday and Today" album. This was the record that was originally the controversial, Beatles "Butcher Album." Since this is a Beatles record on the Capital label, it's probably worth something, except I drew all over it rendering it worthless to anyone but me.
The first Cheap Trick album! I remember being thrilled about this because they were from Rockford, Illinois and I had seen them in bars and clubs before they got signed. Hometown boys made good! This is a great album.
Legendary bluesman, Luthor Allison's live album. This album was recorded at a club in Peoria, in the '80's, I believe and produced by my friend, musician Craig Moore. Luthor's wife Fannie lived next door to me in an apartment complex and I went to a Christmas party with the entire Allson family and friends. I'll have to write about that sometime.
And finally, The Rutles. Do I have to spell it out? C-H-E-E-S-E-O-N-I-O-N-S-O-H-N-O. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.
Okay, usually I do the midnight movie thing on Fridays, but I’m busy with my parents in town and don’t have time to do it tonight, so I thought I’d just take pictures on my walk to their hotel today in midtown. One of the things I love about New York is just walking around and looking at all the sights, signs and people. So here we go.
And here we go, straight up 6th Avenue to midtown.
This guy's a regular in the neighborhood. He dresses up in newspaper and asks for money. I gave him two bucks and took this picture.
I like the back of this woman's head. I've been following her for three blocks now.
Okay, I'm officially in love with the back of her head. The back of her head is the Jodie Foster to my inner Travis Bickle. All of a sudden I feel like shooting a pimp and getting a mohawk. You talkin' to me?
Sadly she just turned the corner and now I'm stuck looking at this truck. Sob!
Neon Lights/My Favorite Concert @11:09 pm Chelsea I thought tonight I’d take pictures of neon lights on the way home and then write about my favorite concert in my life. I wrote about this once in a MySpace blog (anybody remember MySpace?) so I apologize if you’ve read it before. But I’m going to write it fresh tonight. I like re-writing stories, you always remember something different than the first time you wrote it. Anyway let’s look for neon, Leon.
We'll take a stroll down 7th Avenue towards my home base and fortress of solitude.
I've noticed a lot of deli's have three line neon signs. Kind of like deli haiku. Except they don't worry about the whole five, seven, five thingy.
More deli haiku.Sandwiches, bagels, coffee. Simple and to the point.
Nice! They've taken deli haiku to a higher level and done it in a sweeping circular motion. Impressive!
Oh, geez. I hate to be critical, but Chinese Food, do you have to insert your phone number in your version of deli haiku? It's so...commercial. If you just want to advertise, please stay away from the deli haiku style.
When you're ready to leave, this place will literally give you the boot! I'm killing myself over here, I smell ya!
This place is right next door and I don't know, they're kind of trying a little too hard. "While U Wait" and "Same Day Service," just spell neon redundancy to me.
Food groups are always represented in the world of neon. Pizza!
Love the steam coming off of the chicken!
Hello Burger!
And a bottle of Negra Modelo to wash it all down with.
Hey Papaya King? You seeing this over here? Live and learn, my friend!
And Sleepy's lives up to her name. The neon here is shut down for the night, they close early...hey, do you think she's sleeping with the Papaya King? Careful Papaya King, Sleepy's husband is 1-800-MATTRESS. He claims they leave off the final "S" for savings, but I think it's a code for shotgun. Watch out, King, you don't want to get your hot dog blown off!
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The Papaya Dialogues!
And speaking of the Papaya King, our conversation continues at Twitter. When I came home tonight, there was a Tweet from the Papaya King waiting for me. Here it is:
It's nice that he likes the blog, but on he's got to try a little harder. Here's my reply:
Stay tuned for further Papaya Dialogues with the Papaya King here at MAD. Now onto the weekly Tuesday Night Short Story. Enjoy!
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My Favorite Concert In the summer of 1979 I moved into an apartment in Indianapolis, Indiana from my hometown of Peoria, Illinois. I was 21-years-old and I had taken a job with a Safety Products company and would be selling safety products there. That was my “territory.” A couple weeks after settling in, my brother Jim came to see me for a weekend and I had tickets for the two of us to go see Cheap Trick in concert.
Cheap Trick has always been one of my favorite bands and I was psyched to go. The concert was on a Saturday and my brother showed up on Friday. I can’t remember what we did that Friday night, but I’m sure it involved drinking and if I remember correctly I think we were doing speed as well. And I’m not glamorizing or recommending booze or drugs, but in my defense, I was 21-years-old, it was 1979 and I was a complete mess and an idiot at the time. I’m happy to say I’m not so much of a mess anymore.
Anyway, the fateful night came and we went to a bar before the show and had many drinks. Then we went to a liquor store and Jim got a bottle of Jack Daniels and I got a bottle of Southern Comfort for the show. We piled back into my car and drove to the arena where the concert was being held. The seating was “festival seating” meaning first come, first served. There was a throng of kids piled up at the door and it was turning into an ugly mess. (About six months later, 11 people were trampled to death at a Who concert and that put an end to “festival seating.”)
We stashed our bottles inside of our jackets (nobody searched you back then and nobody really cared what you brought in as long as you weren’t obvious about it walking past, “security”) and wormed our way into the crowd. After about twenty minutes being pushed, jostled and being way closer to this smelly fat guy than I ever wanted to be, the doors were flung open. I remember feeling like I wasn’t even in control of my movements, my legs and body just jerked along with the mass movement of the crowd. We found seats off to the side of the stage that weren’t too bad and sat down. Jim was on the aisle and I was seated to his right. As soon as we sat down two kids came bounding up to the aisle and pointed at the two seats next to us.
“Those seats taken?” One of them asked.
“Nope,” I replied, “knock yourself out, Ringo.”
I don’t know why, but when I called him Ringo, Jim and I both cracked up. We got up, let the two kids in and we all settled in our seats. Soon the entire arena was one big marijuana cloud and people were pulling out bottles and cans of beer. Security guards looked the other way, as long as you weren’t killing anyone. These were rent-a-cops making minimum wage and all they wanted was to get the show over and collect their dough. Unless you hassled them, they pretty much left you alone.
After about a half an hour the house lights went off and people started hooting and hollering and the first band came out. I can’t remember the name of them, but they were a low-level Southern rock band who had a minor hit at the time. They were horrible and nobody was really listening. It was then that we sat down and pulled out our booze. We each had bought a fifth of our particular brand. I know it sounds like a lot, but my brother and I were always of the mindset that it is far better to have way extra, than not enough if you can swing it. There’s nothing worse than running out, especially if you’re all cranked out on some sort of drug like speed or acid. I have many sorrowful memories of being gooned out of my gourd on one thing or another and opening the refrigerator to one of the most horrific sights in the world: One lone beer. And you knew you’d be up climbing the walls for at least four more hours. Sure, there were a few all night convenience stores in Peoria, but sometimes it would be a real chore to navigate there and pull off the purchase without going directly to jail. Anyway, that’s why we always over-bought if our wallets permitted.
As I had a belt out of my bottle of Southern Comfort I glanced to my right and the two kids were staring at Jim and I. One of them kind of looked like a lankier version of Beaver Cleaver and the other had braces and patches of zits all over his face. They both had hair down to their shoulders and couldn’t have been over 16-years-old.
I leaned over to Jim and said, “Watch this.”
Then I leaned into the Beaver Cleaver look-a-like and said, “You want a slug?” I held the bottle out for him to grab.
He smiled and looked at his friend and said, “Sure!”
Pretty soon the four of us were passing the bottles back and forth. Right after Cheap Trick hit the stage to a thundering welcome, my brother lit up a joint, which our new found pals were happy to indulge in. Soon they were pretty well out of their minds. Everybody was on their feet and Cheap Trick was putting on a great show, as they always do. About twenty minutes into the set, Rick Nielson banged out the familiar opening chords to their anthemic song, “Surrender.” Everybody was on their feet clapping and singing. My next memory of this show always plays out in slow motion, because that’s the way it seemed to happen that night. Rick Nielson had just started his solo on his black and white checkered guitar. Beaver Cleaver let out a whoop, jumped up in the air and fell down on me. I grabbed him before he fell into his seat.
“You okay?” I screamed at him.
“Yeah, I’m fucking great!” He slurred back.
I wasn’t so sure, he didn’t look too good. And that’s when it happened. I think to prove to me that he was fine, he stood up straight, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Rock...”
I think the next two words he wanted to shout were, “and roll,” but the next thing you know, his hands flew down to his stomach and instead of words, a steady stream of vile and violent vomit came spewing out of his pie hole. All over the woman if front of us.
She let out a scream and her boyfriend looked at her and froze for a second. He was a big guy, with short hair and the both of them were dressed a little too nicely for your standard 1979 Cheap Trick concert. In fact, my brother was a little nervous the guy was cop or a narc when they first got in their seats. We relaxed when someone passed him a joint and he took a hit off of it. After staring at his girlfriend and assesing the situation, he turned around and stared daggers at Beaver and his buddy. I grabbed Beaver and kind of pushed him out towards the aisle and yelled one word.
“Run!”
He took off with his friend close behind. The cop-looking guy grabbed his girlfriend and they hightailed it out of there. I looked at my brother and we started laughing our fucking asses off. We continued to laugh all through the concert and afterwards we went to a bar and told the story to anyone who would listen to it and even those that wouldn’t: "The tale of the teen that couldn’t puke straight."
I’ve told that story thousands of times and I never get tired of telling it. I always wonder what that kid is doing today. I’d like to buy him a beer for making that Cheap Trick concert my favorite concert of all time.
Some Things I Did Before Work Today Checked my email. I got an email from the band Night Ranger announcing, “Pre-sale tickets for the 2011 Eclipse Tour.” Really, Night Ranger? Pre-saletickets? Shouldn’t you just be worried about selling just plain old tickets? You are Night Ranger after all. Listened to Cheap Trick’s first album. Had a craving for M & M’s. Massaged and rubbed my itchy eyeballs.
Tonight’s the wedding (congratulations to Michael and Abbey!) and I just wanted to relax and didn’t want to be running around bugging people taking photos. But I wanted something to blog about so I wandered around my folks house to find something to take pictures of and lo and behold, what do I find but the remnants of my once might record collection in the bottom of my parents closet. Check it out.
My collection was about 5,000 albums and a couple thousand CD's before I moved to New York. Along with my pension plan, I got some money to move to New York by selling everything I owned. I sold my car, my furniture, my clothes, my stereo, my TV and most of my albums and all of my CD’s. Here’s what’s left of my albums, some of them I didn’t want to sell and some of them nobody else wanted so I stored them here at my parents house. Let’s just take a random look at some of them.
Here's the Beatles "White Album." But it's not exactly white. I used to smoke pot in my bedroom and then draw all over my records.
See? This is the back of the "White Album." I had a full canvas to work with here.
Here's the Beatles, "Yesterday and Today" album. This was the record that was originally the controversial, Beatles "Butcher Album." Since this is a Beatles record on the Capital label, it's probably worth something, except I drew all over it rendering it worthless to anyone but me.
The first Cheap Trick album! I remember being thrilled about this because they were from Rockford, Illinois and I had seen them in bars and clubs before they got signed. Hometown boys made good! This is a great album.
"Everything Stops For Tea" by Long John Baldry. I love this album and Ronnie Wood drew the album cover.
Here's an album by The Tremblers. This was Peter Noone's/Herman's new wave band from the '80's. I think I'm the only one who bought it.
Here's The Beatles turning Japanese.
Legendary bluesman, Luthor Allison's live album. This album was recorded at a club in Peoria, in the '80's, I believe and produced by my friend, musician Craig Moore. Luthor's wife Fannie lived next door to me in an apartment complex and I went to a Christmas party with the entire Allson family and friends. I'll have to write about that sometime.
And finally, The Rutles. Do I have to spell it out? C-H-E-E-S-E-O-N-I-O-N-S-O-H-N-O. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.
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