T.P.

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers are on my personal Mount Everest of legendary artists. They've written and recorded some of the greatest songs and albums in rock history, and are still relevant while making music on their own terms. Not many bands have sustained that kind of career. I've seen them so many times over the years that I've lost count, and they've rocked every time. Now they have a new album and new tour, and I was excited to hear about both. Not so much anymore.

First, I bought/downloaded the new album, Mojo. I immediately thought it sounded pretty cool. But then, as the album unfolded, I thought to myself, "where are the songs?" Almost every song is a long, bluesy jam with little or no real substance. Don't get me wrong, the musicianship is outstanding as always. It's just that the songs weren't very good, at least by Petty's standards. And what surprises me are the overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics and fans alike who are hailing Mojo as Petty's album in years. Huh? I read that TP has listened to a lot of blues overr the last couple of years, which has influenced his writing. Fine. I've immersed myself in jazz over the years, but that doesn't mean I'm trying to re-write Steely Dan's Aja. I just don't get it.

Then I got online to check out the set lists from the first few shows of the tour. Along with a handful of new tunes, the set was sprinkled with songs that have now become annoyingly repetitive (I know this because I've been to at least one show on every tour since '89, except for the last one) - "Free Fallin'", "I Won't Back Down", "Runnin' Down A Dream", "Need To Know", "American Girl", "Breakdown", "Mary Jane's Last Dance", "Don't Come Around Here No More", "You Don't Know How It Feels", etc. Unfortunately, most fans in attendance will expect to hear these classics and cheer like a pack of school girls at a Justin Bieber concert. I, for one, won't be because I'm sitting out this tour. Oh sure, they spit out a "Too Much Ain't Enough" every once in awhile, but these are the same songs that have been played at every show for 20+ years, and I've had enough.

I'm not saying they have to go all obscure on us, but they can at least dig into their massive catalog of hits and mix it up a little. So, Tom, here's a list of songs I propose for this or any future tour, in no particular order:

"Jammin' Me"
"Here Comes My Girl"
"Don't Do Me Like That"
"You Got Lucky"
"Rebels"
"Woman In Love"
"Yer So Bad"
"The Apartment Song"
"Letting You Go"
"Change Of Heart"
"Honey Bee"
"Wake Up Time"
"Into The Great Wide Open"
"Southern Accents"
"Shadow Of A Doubt"
"Swingin'"
"Walls"

I'd give a nut for that show.

Dear Blackberry Users...

I'm sorry, but your product sucks. After losing my iPhone to a hot tub a few weeks ago, I've been using a Blackberry temporarily until the new iPhone 4 comes out in 168 hours. For years, I've heard "Crackberry" users sing the praises of what they claim is a superior device to all others, especially the iPhone. Having now used both, I must say that the comparing the two is like comparing Pong to a Wii - there is no comparison.

I will go ahead and disclose that I am indeed an Apple snob. Say what you want to about the company's editorial policies or how it limits users to its own native hardware/software, but the bottom line is functionality and ease of use, and the damn Blackberry doesn't come close. It's slow, the apps suck, the scroll ball is annoying, the interface makes no sense, and I can't seem to be able to use a normal browser. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to throw this object against a wall. If anyone can offer me an intelligent argument about why the Blackberry is better, I'll be happy to listen. And then have you committed.

"Barbecue" Is A Noun

One of the many annoyances I have with northerners is their licentious use of the word "barbecue". When you cook something on the grill, you are not barbecuing it...you are grilling it. Barbecue is what you get after you cook pork for many hours over low heat. In other words, "barbecue" is a noun, NOT a verb. If you disagree with that, take your tofu-eating ass back to Michigan.

Great Moments In Jackassery: The Gym

The word "jackassery" may have been coined at some point in our history, but Id' like to think of myself as the genius who came up with it, or at least responsible for its revision. There are many, many elements of jackassery in everyday life, and I'd like to use this forum to point out some of these examples.

Today, I'd like to focus on jackassery at the gym. You've seen, or rather, heard, these guys - the weightlifter who feels the need to grunt rather loudly with every rep./exhale There's nothing more distracting than hearing an "UNGGHH!!" and/or a heavy inhale of air every 5 seconds while you're concentrating on your own workout. I keep looking up, expecting to see either porn or a women's tennis match on the corner TV. I know what you're thinking - "why don't you listen to your iPod to drown out the grunting?" Well, why should I have to do that? These jackasses should take their fellow man into consideration before trying out their best Peter North impression. And to make matters worse, these are the same jackasses who like to lift an inordinate amount of weight while checking themselves out in the mirror.

So chew on that for awhile til next time. Peace out bitches.

Have (Hair) Product, Will Travel

Last week I attended my umpteenth dental trade show, this time in Atlanta. I don't normally go to these things and I don't particularly enjoy them, but the people watching factor is always at a premium. What has always fascinated me is how everyone seems to knows each other and has their collective finger on the pulse of every tidbit regarding the latest personnel gossip in the industry. It's like a giant traveling circus that migrates from city to city on a regular basis, with everyone in each others business.

Every morning, sales reps from every booth meander up and down the aisles and chronicle the previous night's debauchery out on the town to anyone who will listen. There's also no shortage of strong perfume worn by the ladies as well as hair product placed upon the lids of almost every male that descends upon these shows, presumably in order to cover up the stench and hangover hair of the aforementioned nightly exploits.

Like an amateur 17 year-old drinker, "Dude, I so wasted last night" is a common theme that is overheard from every cheese ball within earshot. And each time, I just stand there and take it all in, gaining wisdom and enlightenment with each listen. Here's to you, tools of the trade shows. May you never wear thin or wear down.

The Latest In WTF - Men's Double Luge

Last night as I was rocking the house at a local sports bar, I glanced at a TV just in time to catch a Winter Olympic event that I hadn't recalled witnessing before - Men's Double Luge. Regular luge is inscrutable enough as it is - a man in tights, lying flat on a sled while hurling himself down an icy slide. I'm sure there is a considerable amount of skill involved that the layman is not able to see. But I'm sorry, to most of us it's just a dude on a sled trying not to crash.

The doubles thing takes it to a whole new level. As far as women go, I'm like any other male in that I'm all for doubles in anything and everything. But there's something disturbing about watching two men lying that flat on top of each other on a sled (or anything else for that matter). It's like watching Ace & Gary, The Ambiguously Gay Duo, riding along in their penis mobile. You almost expect for these dudes to stand up at the end of their run and ask, "What's everyone looking at?!?", while everyone stares at them in speechless awe.

I Don't Care What Your Child's Name Is or What Sport He/She Plays

Just sayin'.

The Karaoke Life

I don't go to karaoke bars very often, and when I do it's usually just to make fun of people (ah, judging strangers - my favorite pastime). Being the musician snob that I am, I sure as hell wouldn't partake in this activity myself. It would take a blood-alcohol level of at least .024. But I still go because the entertainment value is priceless.

Recently I attended a local karaoke venue called Starz (because an 's' would be just too damn customary). And I noticed right off the bat that it wasn't just a bar - it was a community. The whole crowd sang/slurred along with EVERY song that was being "performed" by the patrons, all while high-fiving and clinking beer bottles with each other. I felt somewhat out of place, like I'd just accidentally crashed a wedding by strolling into a banquet hall with "Goldstein Wedding" written on a large sign outside.

It occurred to me that this was their own little world. While the rest of us brazenly make fun of them, these folks take take their own universe seriously. Karaokers remind me of people with mullets - sadly (or funnily, depending on how you look at it), they seem to have no idea that the rest of society mocks them relentlessly. Bless their hearts.

Enough

Once again it's that time of year when jewelers and florists raise the bar to a level of impossibility for men - V-Day. Retailers such as Jared, Kay and Flowers.com annually spew forth a bevvy of commercials that have about as much realism as a singing frog.

"Annie, why do you have a pants bulge?"

"Oh Susie, it's the diamond necklace that Nick gave me for Valentine's Day to tell me how much he loves me - I like to keep it coiled up next to my vagina. He went to Jared!"

I have to keep a stack of barf bags next to my TV in preparation for this annual sham of fanciful dribble regurgitating from the airwaves. Ladies, we may have the best of intentions and actually sometimes succeed when it comes to romance, but please don't ever expect what happens in these commercials to actually occur in real life.

New Q

There's a (fairly) new BBQ joint in town that many, including myself, have been drooling over. It's called Saw's BBQ and it's located in the Edgewood area of Homewood, for all you local yokels. As many of you know, I'm a longtime 'Q' connoisseur who knows good shit when he tastes it. With all due respect to Big Bob Gibson's in Decatur, Saw's is the new #1 on my list of favorite Q joints. I've yet to try the ribs but the pork, chicken, sauces and sides are quite simply the best I've ever tasted. This guy, Wilson (SAW = "Sorry Ass Wilson"), knows what the hell he's doing. The meat is cooked to melt-in-your-mouth perfection and is brimming with just the right flavor. It just gets better every time, too. Apparently I'm not alone - the place is packed with more and more people on each subsequent visit. Go and enjoy.

Teeth

Even before I got into the dental industry, I always made a practice of consistently attending to good oral hygiene. And as much as I hated the 18 months that I endured braces as a gawky 13 year-old, I'm very thankful to now have straight teeth. They may not be supermodel white, but by God, they're properly aligned and even.

Which makes me all the more curious about folks who don't have straight teeth and many others whose teeth are just butt ugly. I realize not everyone can afford certain restorative dental solutions, but everyone should at least be able to have their teeth cleaned twice a year or at least maintain proper oral hygiene on a daily basis with brushing and flossing.

I don't mean to sound preachy, but many people don't realize how much of a turn-off it is to have a mouth like Austin Powers (I know some of you are shocked to hear me say that I've been somewhat picky about anything when it comes to dating). Recently, a girl approached myself and my bandmates at a gig touting herself as a talent scout - a local version of Simon Cowell if you will - and offered to take us on as a client. As she was spouting off her spiel, all I really heard was the "Wah wah wah" sound you hear from adults in a Peanuts cartoon. Why? Because, even though she was fairly attractive, she had the lower half of her #8 incisor (upper right front tooth for you novices) chipped off, and it was all I could do to not stare at this monstrosity.

So come on, people. I implore you to take care of your teeth - you (and me) will be glad you did.

Those Ear Things

First of all, sorry for being AWOL for the past few months, but the dog ate my blog. Recently, I've noticed more and more young people (I can't believe I just typed "young people" - I'm so friggin' old) sporting those stretched ear lobe studs. Besides the obvious pain one must go through during the process of implanting one of these things, I can't help but wonder if these folks realize just how moronic they appear when viewed in public. I know the above image was done as a joke, but is it really that far off from reality in terms of ridiculousness? I'm all for individualism and the right of self-expression, but I feel sorry for those who unknowingly blur the fine line between being cool and being a tool.

Realizing A Dream

When I was in 1st grade, I was obsessed with Kiss. Yep, 1st grade. In fact, the first record I ever bought with my own money was Destroyer by Kiss, which I purchased that same year. Eventually, I collected all their albums, studying them carefully as I listened to them over and over. And I was especially fixated on Gene Simmons. I read his letter on the inner sleeve of Alive! intently until I had it memorized, and drove my mom batshit crazy by sticking out my tongue at everyone I passed by. Needless to say, my dream was to be Gene Simmons when I grew up.

That dream will be coming true this Halloween Night when I perform as Gene Simmons at my friend's Kiss-themed Halloween party (KISSHOUSE). This thing is going to be huge, as it has already made the front page of the Tennessean. I have obsessively pored over my costume details for weeks now, trying to get it perfect. Right now, it resembles a disturbing S&M ensemble. I'm hoping that that by the time the wig and make-up are in place, it won't be quite so unnerving. I'll have pictures to post in the next few days. Happy Halloween, bitches!

Tenses - Where Did We Go Wrong?

In my ever-frustrating world of Grammar Nazi-ism, I've come to notice way too many people who have no concept of tenses in sentence structure. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, just listen to Finebaum or go to Wal-Mart. For example:

"Yesterday, he come out of the house and run down the street." Incorrect

""Yesterday, he came out of the house and ran down the street." Correct

And people wonder what is wrong with our education system. Where did we go wrong as a society? I understand that kids pick up a lot of bad grammar habits from their friends and/or parents. I can't speak for everyone else, but we covered tenses at my elementary school. And don't these children read? Why is it so effing hard to speak correctly?

Random Fleeting Thoughts

I know it's been awhile. Let's catch up.

The Tide
I don’t want to jinx this year’s team, but damn they’re good. I realize we still haven’t gotten to the meat of the schedule, but McElroy is looking like our most efficient QB since Gary Hollingsworth. Julio is God. And I would rather get sacked by Charles Jefferson than have to fuck with the two headed monsters of Ingram/Richardson or McClain/Hightower. Damn they’re good.

The Fuck?
MacKenzie Phillips, what the hell are you doing? Whether it’s true or not, no one wants the image of you and your father doin’ the grown-up in their head. Personally, I think it’s BS – either way, she comes off looking reeeeally bad. This is nothing more than a whore tactic to sell books.

Banned
Recently, my old band from college, Three Hour Tour played a gig at the “new” Booth in Tuscaloosa. The following week, we were asked to never play there again due to “vulgarities” that were communicated over the mic that evening. Other than telling some chick that her mouth would make a lovely urinal (an oldie but goodie), I don’t recall anything all that offensive coming out of our mouths. It’s a college town for gawd’s sake – let the people speak freely!

A Dream Come True
When I was in first grade, I wanted to be Gene Simmons. Besides Evel Knievel, I thought he was the coolest mofo in the world. After being turned down by my dad to go see them live as a kid, I finally got to see Kiss on their reunion tour in ’96, and once more a few years ago. Now I have the opportunity of a lifetime. Next month, a bandmate buddy will be throwing a huge Kiss-themed Halloween party. Headlining the event will be a Kiss tribute band with none other than yours truly as freaking Gene Simmons. I received my Gene wig in the mail the other day and I’ve got platform boots arriving next week. Game on, bitches!

Drinking, Charles Barkley, Elephants and More Drinking

The dreaded 40th birthday has arrived and I must say that I am proud of myself for accomplishing my goal of getting s**tfaced this past weekend. It started with a bang Friday night when me and my PharmHand bandmates arrived at Greybar to find out that Charles Barkley was in town and might be stopping by at some point. Apparently, he and the owner are big buddies. I filed that tidbit away and went about my business of rocking the house and drinking many brewskis.

Finally, around 1AM, in walks Charles Barkley himself. It just so happened that we were between songs, so I took it upon myself to call out Sir Charles over the microphone. "IT'S ABOUT F**KING TIME YOU GOT HERE!," I hollered as he walked in the door. He stopped briefly and turned toward the stage with a "Did I really just hear what I think I heard?" look on his face. "Oh shit," I thought to myself, and turned toward the rest of the band. "Um, okay - one, two, three..." Fortunately, nothing came of it. At 2AM, we were in the parking lot, ready to go home. I asked my faithful bandmate, Patrico Suave, if he was going to Buffalo Wild Wings to hang with our buddies there for a late night drink. Three beers, two Jaeger Bombs and two hours later, my head finally hit the pillow. I felt like ass on Saturday as a result. But I had to recover for...

Three Hour Tour Saturday night. We were set to play at our home away from home at The Brick in Decatur with a special guest - Steve Boyd of The White Animals, a musical idol from my youth. The shots started at 9:15 and continued through the night: Goldschlager, Jaegermeister, Maker's Mark - it was a plethora of libations. By the time we had made it to the second set, I was plastered and my liver was drowning. The third set doesn't exist for me, since I have no recollection of it whatsoever.




Today was the big day and I pulled into the parking lot at work to find a collection of elephants and footballs, as pictured above, from the company that displays those gay flamingos. Regardless, I received many lovely birthday wishes and gifts from many friends and family members. It's over now, so I can quit my bitching and get on with it. I'm still paying the price for my drunkenness over the weekend, but it was damn worth it. Peace out, bitches!

Old Concerts, Part 2

One of the greatest live bands I have ever seen, The Replacements made frequent appearances in these parts during the late 80's until their breakup in '91. I actually saw them a total of seven times, the most interesting being the opening slot with Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers in the summer of '89. I'll never forget this show, which was in Nashville. The Mats (as they were affectionately refferred to by their fans) had already endured a not so friendly Tom Petty fan base, who were simply not prepared for the contrast of The Mats' sloppiness compared to the professionalism of The Heartbreakers. Not only did the boys walk out onstage wearing dresses, they also proceeded to flip off the crowd while being booed. Classic.




Like The Police, Prince and VH, I was lucky enough to catch U2 at their absolute peak on the Joshua Tree tour. Despite having nosebleed seats at The Omni (so high up that we resorted to renting binoculars), it was still an incredible show.






In the summer of '89, my friend Dave S. and I did something I had never done and haven't done since - camped out for concert tickets. The Stones playing at Legion Field in B-ham was a HUGE deal at the time, but not as big of a deal as the face value of the tickets - $30.00! I know that sounds paltry considering how much concert tickets are these days but believe me, it was a big deal. Naturally, we didn't give a rat's ass. It was the Stones! The concert was truly a religious experience for me. I couldn't believe I was standing there watching The Rolling Freaking Stones. It was an out of body feeling that I've only had one other time at a concert - seeing Paul McCartney in '02.

I saw the Stones at Legion Field again in '94 but it just wasn't the same as seeing them for the first time. The other ticket stub from London was sent to me by my friend, Dave C., who saw them at Wembley Stadium on the Urban Jungle Tour of 1990.

The Worst Birthday

As the impending doom of turning 40 approaches, I'm reminded of another dreadful birthday from years ago - my 13th birthday. My friend, "W", had a patch of woods behind his house and the afternoon before the big day, he led my back there to see something he had hidden under some leaves. That "something" was a Hustler magazine. Now, I had sneaked into my parents' bedroom on several occasions to peak at my father's Playboys and had gazed with giddy excitement at the photos inside (and the articles of course). But nothing had prepared me for the pure bliss of Hustler's graphic shots of nether regions. I mean, I was 13 after all.

I sat on a tree stump and stared in amazement at each page with ecstasy while "W" took a leak behind a tree. Suddenly, there was buzzing all around me. Alas, I had sat/stepped on a yellow jacket's nest and now they were wailing on my horny ass. I threw the magazine down and started running while flailing away at the swarming insects as they stung me all over. By the time I made it home, I had been stung over 20 times, and there were still several live ones stuck in my hair. I ended up in the bath tub the rest of the day with meat tenderizer rubbed all over my body. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

My birthday party was scheduled the next day at Holiday Skating Rink, and the show went on as planned. Unfortunately, I was unable to do anything but stand at the door and wave stiffly as all my friends entered and proceeded to have all kinds of fun rollerskating to the hits of the day. I was miserable and in pain. I didn't tell my mom the real reason we were in the woods until years later. As with all the other incidents I disclosed over time, she just frowned, shook her head and wondered just where in the hell she had gone wrong.

Old Concerts, Part 1

My first concert was The Doobie Brothers in 1977 when I was in second grade, complete with the great Jeff "Skunk" Baxter jamming away with headphones on while sitting in a chair. The next shows I attended over the next several years included The Bee Gees, The Village People, Christopher Cross, Loverboy and The Police. At some point, I decided to start saving my ticket stubs, some of which you're about to see. I must disclose that I stole the idea for this post from my Spitball Army comrade. Sorry/thanks, Fred.






Last year marked the first R.E.M. tour since the '84 Reckoning tour that I didn't see at least one show. Both the '84 and '85 concerts were at the old Foster Auditorium in front of about 1000 people. The '85 show was special because we hung around afterward and met all of the band except Mike Mills. Peter Buck was wearing blue suede shoes and I decided right then that he was the coolest person in the world. I got each one to sign the back of my ticket stub, as you can see.




I was lucky enough to see Prince at his peak on the Purple Rain tour. The show went so well that a second show was immediately booked for an unusual Sunday afternoon show two weeks later at the same venue. I saw Prince again a few years ago and he was once again amazing - like he hadn't aged at all.





That same year I had the privilege of seeing another giant artist at their peak, the mighty Van Halen on their 1984 tour - their last with David Lee Roth until reuniting almost 25 years later. They absolutely f**king rocked that night. I remember buying a tour t-shirt at the show and wearing it to school the next day without washing it, wondering why it smelled so smoky and putrid. The next time I saw them in '86, they were fronted by Sammy Hagar. It was also the night I almost died thanks to Clark Cooper, who drove his mom's station wagon at 95mph down Red Mtn. Expressway.



Believe it or not, there was a time when Phil Collins wasn't necessarily considered cool, but he was not yet considered uncool.




Speaking of uncool, Bryan Adams became just that the night I saw him play "Summer of '69" and sing the lyric "Back in the summer of '85!" during the last chorus. I don't know who was more dorky at that moment, Adams or the thousands of tools who roared with approval.




This was the first concert that I was able to drive to with friends after getting my drivers license two months earlier. And what a pairing! About the only thing I remember was Night Ranger rising up from under the stage amid thick fog before launching into their opening number, "You Can Still Rock In America". Yes you can.




This was Sting's first solo tour after years of success with The Police, who I was fortunate enough to see on the Synchronicity tour. Great show, weird venue (Boutwell).

That Guy

In light of the unfortunate passing of John Hughes, I'm reminded of some of the great "who's that guy?" character actors that he utilized in most of his films. Here are some of my favorites:


J.T. Walsh

He was the man. J.T. was at his best when playing a low-key prick, as in The Client, Backdraft and Breakdown. But he also stole the show in money roles such as Blue Chips, Outbreak and my favorite, as Lt. Col. Markinson in A Few Good Men. Playboy once called him "everybody's favorite scumbag". A true American actor, Walsh died in 1998.


Paul Gleason

Gleason, like Walsh, was another classic actor best known for playing a series of laughable pricks. Probably best remembered as Richard Vernon in The Breakfast Club, Gleason played a series of similar roles in Johnny Be Good and Die Hard. Unfortunately, he also died a few years ago.


M. Emmet Walsh

Walsh has had a long and versatile career playing a variety of characters. He won several independent film awards for his private dick role in The Coen Brothers' first film, Blood Simple. My personal favorite films of his are as the can-hating sniper in The Jerk, the probing doctor in Fletch, and the bumbling sports fan attorney in Wildcats.


Ted Levine

If there's any doubt who this guy is, all you gotta know is "Buffalo Bill". His Jame Gumb character from Silence Of The Lambs is one of the most memorable yet disturbing movie villains of all time. These days, he's best known for his role as Leland Stottlemeyer on the show Monk. In between, he's been in such films as Heat and Switchback.


Barry Corbin

With his Texas twang and his authoritative presence, Corbin was memorable in many appearances over the years. His breakthrough performance was as Uncle Bob in the classic, Urban Cowboy. He also contributed mightily to Stir Crazy, Wargames and later in the TV hit, Northern Exposure. More recently, he played a key role in the Best Picture Winner, No Country For Old Men.