Some of my new favorite mu-suck-ial groups - part one

Every one should follow their muse and do the things that make them happy (within reason - zoosadism and pedophilia don't count). I have yet to find my overriding passion, but these folks seem to have found their's, although perhaps in ways that make the rest of us scratch our heads and go "Huh?" or "Do what?"

This first is Leslie and the Lys, the brainchild of Leslie Hall, a gold lame beehive-hairdoed lady from Iowa who envisions herself as a rap / hip-hop genius (who's to say she isn't?). Here she presents what is probably the only (that I'm aware of) musical pop tribute to the Ron Howard movie Willow:

Watching this makes me repeatedly wonder: why didn't we do stuff like this in the TA office?

A blast from my past and my only degree of separation from Timothy Leary

When I was in high school, several of my left of center friends always sported cool and trendy haircuts that made me jealous. I so wanted to be like them, at least folliclely. That is when John Cate, a fellow drummer in the marching band and a source of cool music, mentioned that he got his hair cut by Dillard Clark, a father of two members of the high school band who were always so hip, fashionable, and cool looking. Nervously, I decided to go to Dillard for a haircut to see what might happened. As it turned out, he was a dyed in the wool hipster who loved all things exotic and interesting and was more than happy to help with my quest to reach hairdo perfection, although his end results were frequently the cause of much debate and anguish between my mother and myself. But I digress...

After leaving Kingsport for college, I lost touch with Dillard. I heard that he had opened a shop to sell new agey items on the city limits, appropriately named the Dilly Lama. In a recent fit of boredom and backwards lookingness, I chanced upon his Myspace page and was amused to find that he had embraced his inner visions to finally become who he had always been - a devout Hindu, the Dilly Lama himself. As you can see, Dillard reached out to touch and meet other inner travelers of the Third Eye Express such as Dr. Timothy Leary (though I doubt that picture was taken in Kingsport). So, while I don't know that I'll ever require his services again, or even know if Dillard still cuts hair, I nevertheless embrace him as an influential visionary in my life who found the beauty of living in a town that smelled of dogshit 9 months out of the year. He knew joy and it was contagious. Take care and thanks for the perms!

The passing of a new but dear, dear friend of mine

Last night, after one last gasp, my phone finally gave up the ghost. No on, no off; the poor thing could not rise up with me this morning and greet the day. As I cradled him in my arms one last time, a single tear made its course down my cheek, and I was reminded of the brief but intense relationship we shared over the past few months. Although initally hostile to the idea of a phone, he won over my heart with his impish sense of humor, his roguish good looks, and his ability to remind me of upcoming events that I had long forgotten. He was with me during some important milestones in my life. He witnessed my first haircut in 17 years. He supported me and celebrated with me my successful passing of my Spanish language exam for my PhD. And, like a candle in the wind, he was snuffed out in the prime of life during a plumping operation turned deadly.

As I set him on his funeral pyre and reverently hold the torch that will momentarily send him to his glory in Vahalla, I am struck by the fact that Luddism can so quickly be overcome with technology, especially technology that connects you with other people. On a lighter note, the Razr will be long remembered in my heart, as I plan on getting a Hello Kitty version to ease my pain at the loss of such a short but intense friendship...

Does anyone else miss the Cold War? DA!

This stuff makes me realize how lucky I am to live in a CIA-protected country! Why were all our agents back then sharksuited, thin tied, groom and clean kinda guys, even in foreign countries?

The summer of Mike progresses!

I recently went on a shopping spree of unprecedented intensity! 2 pairs of Levi jeans, a brand I haven't been comfortable wearing for nearly 15 years! 2 short sleeve shirts of a moderate blue-green color! The insanity is almost too much to bear! I was so shocked by my actions that I became far oiler on my T-zone than I usually am, thus requiring an avocado-oatmeal mask and a green tea (see enclosed future blackmail photo).

Could our young hero be swayed towards the ever looming precepice that is metrosexuality? Remember, his barely adequate psychic defenses have little reserve power left! However, take heart, true believers - the peril of moisturizer and kelp skin products is far from being an actual realization for our hero. True, I cut my Samson-esque locks. But that was out of love for balding little girls (not that I have a thing for balding little girls...I just wanted to help them!). Hopefully, with the additional purchase of some engineer boots, I will look more like a fifties street tough than one of the fashionista sect that I fear and abhor with a large degree of my being (at least when I'm not leveled by my anomie). I also don't really like Nazis either...

Best Concert I EVER SEEN!

They freakin' ROCKED! For an encore, they played "Elenore" by the Turtles, followed by a blistering version of "Search and Destroy" by Iggy and the Stooges! The best bit was when they killed 1500 guinea pigs with liquid Drano in a giant cocktail glass that said "See Rock City" on the side! I think the new Kiss is upon us! I kept the ticket stub for my future great grandkids, to prove to them that great-grand pappy Taylor was at THAT concert!
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For those of you unfamiliar, I first heard them back in my younger days, on an old cassette tape I found on the floor of the men's room at a rest stop near Greeneville. Since then, they have been an important part of my musical diet. You should make them part of yours ASAP!

Environmentally unfriendly...but gives your hair lift!

I recently was having a conversation with some of the ladies I work with about hair care products. And having been, until recently, a long haired person, I was telling them about waterless or dry shampoo products that could be used in an emergency in the event that you couldn't wash your hair in the normal fashion. I told them, in particular, about the product called Psssssst, which was a dry shampoo spray in a can that could be used to spruce up oily hair, even as it cut a hole the size of a football field into the ozone layer. I discovered that this product is back on the market and have decided that I might buy some of it, for my own nefarious purposes. What this has to do with anything even remotely related to anything that I usually talk about in this blog is hard to fathom, but all will be revealed in good time!

Shorter hair means different music! Gonna Rip It Up!

I have discovered that I am getting more interested in earlier music. While I still love crunchy, Stooges-riffing, Velvet-esque ugly bands, I have found myself recently drawn to the dangerous sounds of old rockabilly and rock and roll. Like this:

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Maybe Johnny Cash....?

Should I enjoy this?

This video seems to be like a lost episode of Sprockets, with a lisping German singer who constantly raises his eyebrows, perhaps in a not too subtle recognition of his underlying Schadenfreude. Enjoy!

Friday the 13th

Paraskavedekatriaphobia or friggatriskaidekaphobia - the fear of Friday the 13th. Some people won't even get up on this day, paralyzed by their dread concern that something will happen. I don't really have this fear (I've got plenty of other ones!), despite the fact that as a boy I face planted, bit into a concrete curb, and suffered a concussion after flipping over the handlebars of my bike on Friday the 13th. Hell, I don't remember 90% of it and I got a Bulletman action figure as a result! What...me worry? Besides, one of my favorite people in the world was born on Friday the 13th...and they turned out alright!

The picture I have posted of myself with the 13 is pre-shower, as my hair is doing that psychotic Lollipop Guild pompadour thing that I have discovered it can do (much to both my chagrin and excitement). I am not going out today - but not for fear of Friday the 13th. I have graduate student thingees to attend to, and so must be a vampire for the weekend with the drapes drawn in my apartment. So, I guess that I won't actually get to test the Friday the 13th thing in public, as I'll be in my casket for this holiday.

By the way (nothing to do with Friday the 13th) but I have decided to make Chi Chi Wu as one of my many secret identities. I like the name and I think I can pull off Bostonian Chinese American female tax lawyer if the need arose.

The new me...shorn of my greasy, golden locks, as well as the source of my superpowers?

Here is a shot of me with my new respectable hairdo! Our mild-mannered graduate student is finally looking dashing and debonair...








However, he may no longer be a match for the forces of psionic malevolence posed against him, eager to ambush him and take him back to the Crypt of the Eel Monkeys of Licktrathallia, where they will apply the Hot Needles of Inquisition to his optic nerves! Here is a shot of our hero transformed into an angry kewpie doll, his only remaining ability, with a voyeuristic purple sentient broccoli hive mind waiting outside his apartment to destroy his now barely adequate psychic defenses! Will he prevail?

Stay tuned!

The deed is done...

Click on this to see 22 inches of history!

The first day of the rest of my non-pony-tailed life!

I could never pick just one favorite band, but the band that would come the closest would probably be The Who. Never mind that their music is used for the overly maudlin CSI franchise - The Who was the greatest rock band to perform on stage, hands down! All the angsty whiners on eMpTV should take note, although it would do no good because The Who would eat them for breakfast. So, in honor of my impending haircut today, I felt it necessary to provide myself and my readers some life-affirming, majestic rock to wash over us with this video!



By the way, I am thinking about getting my haircut in a similar fashion to Russell Crowe in Gladiator. I mean, c'mon, look at him and look at me. I have that rugged intensity and just-under-the-surface rage that he portrayed in his movies. I am very historical and gladiatorial, having to pit my wits and skills 'gainst the onslaught of written assignments, reading loads, and paper cuts. I can scream really loud. And I have, actually, a better beard that Crowe does. So, this is what I am thinking about. Although, if it is too much work, as my girlfriend contends, I may just opt for the bowl cut pageboy Prince Valiant look. Who can tell?

Shape of Things to Come...part 2

In solidarity to the lost IRONING BOARD, I shall give up something of my own that I have held near and dear for over seventeen years:

More on this development later...