Rev.Speats'Blog Cabin

There's a place where I can go / And tell my secrets to...
-Brian Wilson
 
The stereo mix of Pet Sounds is perhaps pop music's greatest contribution to my hard day's night.

After yet another day of meaningless record-label-day-job-monkey-work (where questioning my purpose in life is not an uncommon occurance) I retreated to my home where after the usual in- take of satellite TV and dinner, I put on my stereo vinyl lp of Pet Sounds and everything for a moment seemed possible again.

The cynicism and fatigue of the day fell away as Brian Wilson's pocket symphonies filled the room. I thought of ways to reclaim my sense of self and laid some groundwork to put me back in my world, if that makes any sense.

Wouldn't it be nice?

Here's a plug for a Tuesday:

Superbadassssssssssss wedding pix can be found at hannahtalks.blogspot.com

So Bill Clinton's speech last night at the Democratic National Convention was almost as badass as the mono copy of The Hollies' Bus Stop  I found in a box of discarded records recently...

Almost.

Now that I know I can sail the high seas with Styx, Journey, & REO Speedwagon I have renewed purpose.

Midnight buffets with Kevin Cronin? Lido Deck strolls with Tommy Shaw? Shuffleboard with Neal Schon and Jonathon Cain??? No longer dreams my friends...it is sweet sweet reality.

Don't think you can come sail away with these legends??

Click on the link and climb aboard:

http://www.rrholidayescape.com/

The Spector Honeymoon Fund Drive Begins Now.

My wife knows all too well that work-day mornings and I get along like two Bushes and a Saddam so I take inspirato where I can find it to get up and start the day...

Today's came from Neil Diamond's glass-half-empty-but-gettin'-full Nashville classic "Talking Optimist Blues" (from 1996's Tennessee Moon).

Allow me to share in the genius of these lyrics:

I got worries by the ton; gettin' cancer's only one.
Overtaxed and alimonied, tired of eatin' fried baloney.
I got burdens on my shoulders, dying young or growin' older.
There's some brain cells I'm missin',but despite it all, I'd like to say--
 
I'm gonna have a good day today.
Gonna have a good time anyway.
Put it all behind me, lay it all away.
Gonna be a good day today.
 
Bills and pills and former wives, past mistakes and former lives.
Bank account is overdrawn,out of Prozac, hairline's gone.
Hearing voices in my head; say I should've stayed in bed.
Dog just died, but what the heck;nothing worse can happen anyway.
 
So, I'm gonna have a good day today
.Me, I'm gonna have a good time anyway.
Put it all behind me, lay it all away.
Gonna be a good day today.

If the Jewish Elvis can have a good day despite the death of his dog and a diet of fried baloney I should be just fine...

The following appeared in the March/April issue of the Utne Reader and provides yet another reason why I am no longer a subscriber:
 
Cathouse for Dogs—By Herman Thrust, HerbivoreMarch / April 2004 Issue

Karl-Friedrich Lentze's dream has died. Lentze is a German artist who decided to start a business, specifically, a brothel. Even more specifically, a brothel for dogs. This could have been the start of a new era for animal sexual liberation, but the Berlin city council has denied Lentze's application for a business permit. The council has decreed that dog sex is for the purpose of reproduction only, and encouraging recreational sex would just make the animals harder to manage.

Herman "Big Herm" Thrust roots out the weirder and more pressing animal-rights-related new on his Web site www.veganporn.com. Reprinted from the punk-flavored vegetarian magazine Herbivore (Fall 2003). Subscriptions: $15/yr. (4 issues) from 5254 NE 32nd Place, Portland, OR 97211; www.herbivoreclothing.com
 
Obviously "Big Herm" will not be petsitting for my turtle anytime soon.

Last night while reading the new MOJO's Chili Peppers  career overview I about fell off the  sofa when the article namechecked someone I actually know!! I am Geekus Maximus!!  Rock Snob legitimacy validated once again.
  
Who you may ask? A gangly journeyman L.A. guitarist named Josh Klinghoffer: friend of John Frusciante and a former employee of mine from back when I used to assistant-manage the Tempo Records in scenic Northridge, CA. We were the coolest store in the Northwest San Fernando Valley and home of the Non-New Release 39 Cent Video Rental thank you very much. 

Klinghoffer was one of my favorite people at the old store, he loved all the right bands and laughed uncontrollably at my Charles Bronson impressions (so much so he would imitate me imitating Bronson). He also would piss the store manager off on a regular basis. (The manager in question - a mulletheaded former Frito Lay truck driver named Whitney (Yes, Whitney.) who's biggest claims to fame were once introducing Poison at Gazzari's in 1984 and saving enough Camel Cash to get the denim jacket was, and is, an easy target. Digressing even further, Whitney once chided me for playing Radiohead in the store because "Northridge customers are yuppies Jeff and they prefer to hear Billy Joel and Ambrosia while they shop..." Like anyone remembers who the hell Ambrosia is besides you, Mr.Whitney Camel Cash).

Anyway, I'll never forget the day Whitney (who had enough of the young lad's antics) fired Josh for insubordination, told him never to come around again (lest he call the Federales), and that he would never amount to anything.

Reading that article last night and seeing Josh's name in print made me smile. The kids are indeed, alright.

 

 

  

 

For those who want the skinny on the wedding, check out Hannah's blog, she's really captured the day far more eloquently than I could.

What I can tell you is that David Cross's new stand-up comedy album "It's Not Funny" is darker than the deepest shade of Lewis Black and smarter than the Daily Show. If you like your sarcasm black like your coffee this is your ticket.

Also the funniest line in Anchorman (to me anyway) is "You smell like Bigfoot's dick!"

Damn funny.

You stay classy Los Angeles.

Married!!

What a rush! What a fantastic week off! Back in the grind now but coming in with memories that will stay with me forever.

Coming soon: reviews of Anchorman, why the Nixon Library rules, and why time off is as necessary as oxygen itself.

Whoohoo!

With sinuses clogged, Into marriage I go...

Saturday my life changes for the better, forever.

Happy Fourth!