This blog is officially "retired," but my other blog,
"The Lair of the Silver Fox," is still open for business!

Friday, August 29, 2008

"Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News... "

Wow. I feel like crap!

Remember my last post, where I told you that my back was bothering me for no apparent reason? Pshaw! (I always wanted to use "Pshaw!") That's kid stuff. Since then, I have been severely hampered by some damned summer cold or summer flu or summer bubonic-freakin'-plague. I've only left the house for the most important duties (errands for my Mom, cat food for Orson, "human" food for me, haircut, post office, hookers... ), and have resorted to all of the following to hopefully keep me from hospitalization:
  1. Honey/Lemon Mentholated Cough Drops
  2. NyQuil (generic)
  3. Pepto-Bismol (generic)
  4. Tylenol 3 (Yes, that means codeine. Yayyyyy, opiates!)
  5. Lidocaine Patch (for my back pain)
  6. Mixture of Green Tea, Ginger Brandy (which I wouldn't drink otherwise), and Honey
  7. Soup
  8. Watered-Down Juices ("Watered-Down" so they won't throw my blood sugar levels off too far)
  9. Cepacol Sore Throat Spray
  10. Vicks VapoRub
This is, of course, in addition to the medications I take daily to control my blood pressure (2), my cholesterol levels, and my blood sugar levels.

In other words, boys'n'girls, I'm a medical mess.

On the plus side, any loopiness caused by this massive pharmaceutical intake may make this blog more interesting. Not exactly The Doors of Perception, true, but whattya want for nothin'?

On a seemingly unrelated note -- but don't worry, I'll tie them together for ya before I sign off -- I was driving home the other day, listening to one of the many oldies stations I play on my car radio. The song playing was "California Girls" by the Beach Boys.

Being my curmudgeonly, overly-analytical self, my mind started wandering to an article I'd read once, an article which had stated that Brian Wilson had written this song to praise the girls of California.

That sounds fairly cut and dried, right?

Well, I don't agree. It's not about California girls, it's praising all the girls in the USA. Northern, southern, mid-west, east coast, west coast... He wishes that all of them could live in California. Why? Because he lives in California. It's like, if Brian Wilson won't go to the mountain...

He states that he's been all around the world, and seen all kinds of girls, but he can't wait to get back to the USA, which has the cutest girls in the world. The USA. Not just California.

(And, by the way... If you think that Lionel Richie's song "Hello" is about a blind girl, you're wrong. The video is about a blind girl. Not the song. But I digress.)

Then I thought about another couple of songs that people seem to miss the point of. How about all those idiots in the audience who scream and cheer whenever Billy Joel sings the line "Captain Jack will get you high tonight" during the live version of "Captain Jack" on "Songs in the Attic?" Had any of these people actually paid attention to the song they were cheering? It's a vicious, anti-drug song, but the members of the audience only heard what they wanted to hear: Ooh, Captain Jack will get you high! Ooh, cool!

(And yes, Virginia, I fully realize that my anti-drug sentiments may be a bit emasculated by my earlier comment of "Yayyyyy, opiates!" but, hey... )

The "Captain Jack" example reminded me of another song on another live album, Bruce Springsteen's "Live/1975–85," which includes his cover version of Edwin Starr's "War."

Mr. Springsteen makes a little speech and ends up warning his young audience that if indeed there is another war, the government would be looking at "you," "you" naturally meaning that the youth of America would be fighting this war, not the politicians who'd made the decision to start one. The crowd cheers when he says "And the next time, they're gonna be looking at you," but I wonder if they're cheering because they've been paying attention, and they really got his message, or if they're not taking it any further than "Yeah! Us! We're the ones who're gonna save the day and win the wars!"

Anyway, I hope their cheers and applause are because of the former reason, and not the latter reason. But I have my doubts.

Anyway, most of the above stream-of-conscious thinking -- from "California Girls" to "Captain Jack" to "War" -- zipped through my brain in a lot less time than it takes to tell it. Actual thoughts are like that, don'tcha know! So I'd thought about all of that before the Beach Boys song on the radio had even ended. Then the next song began.

It was Edwin Starr's "War."

Good God, y'all!

Yet another one of those weird little coincidences that make me wonder if I do indeed have some teeny-tiny amount of psychic ability, or even some weird way of manipulating events. Ooooh, cosmic, dudes!

However -- and here's where I magically tie it all together, so pay attention -- if I am truly, so psychically gifted, i.e., if I am so damned powerful -- moohoohahahahahaaaaaa! -- why can I get knocked down by a freakin' summer cold?

To sum up:
  1. I Have The Power!
  2. Having "The Power" ain't worth monkey pus when it comes to the real world.
No wonder so many psychics set up storefronts and go out of business in only a few months!

Thanks for your time.


  1. If it's "generic", it's not NyQuil or Pepto-Bismol. (Generic is Bismuth for PB, don't know what NyQuil's active ingredient is).

    If you really want to do the whole "Doors of Perception" thing to amuse us, you can always smoke some Salvia divinorum and then write a blog post after that's over...

    The Power! ?? Are you referencing another oldie (Snap!, which seems modern but was almost 20 years ago!)

    Best line about the Beach Boys today that somebody told me her kids said to her: "Mom, the Beach Boys are more like the Beach Grandpas!". Yup, we're all getting older...

  2. John,
    There's a lot of truth to that. I went to Disney World to see the Beach Boys. It ended up only being Mike Love...he's a fat old man who barely moved on stage. His backup band, however, sounded just like the 1960s Beach Boys...great harmonies...BUT...they looked young enough to be Mike Love's grandchildren. I guess you can't go back. CAN go back...but things won't be the same...or something.

  3. Have you been playing with sickly rats agian? Have you learned nothing from my history lessons?

    Now I have to teach everyone about the black death. Later they became a little known puck rock band.

  4. Cousin Saul, the irony is the person who told me that is also a famous singer (Jeanette Jurado of Exposé) who has also gotten older.

    Not every act ages badly, and I think it's good to have them sing. We get old along with them.

    I want David to someday tell the blog the story of his experience at the Bowzer Rock & Roll party I gave him tickets to at Mohegan Sun. (Let him tell you about the Comets)...

    IANO--would David getting "The Lou Gehrigs" the same as Santa Claus getting "The AIDS"?

  5. John:

    1. Of course, I know that if it's generic, brand names like NyQuil don't really apply. But I think everyone in the world understands that saying "generic Pepto-Bismnol" is a quicker way of saying "Pink Bismuth, the generic equivalent of Pepto-Bismol." I was just trying to save myself some time. About the same amount of time as... oh, about the same amount of time that I've now used up explaining all that!

    1. "I Have The Power!" is actually referencing some of the wisecracks I made about myself in various Bloggers' comments sections, shortly after having posted that post which I linked to in this post.

    1. Until your comment, I wasn't familiar with salvia divinorum. But if I were ever to try it, I'll bet the blog post would be even more interesting if I wrote it while still f**ked-up on the stuff, rather than after!

    Cousin Saul:

    Maybe Mike Love's back-up band members were his grandchildren.


    I remember that band! Didn't they open for the Porch Monkees?

  6. Yup! Were you at that concert too?

    I was just a kid but it was great.

    Joey Ramone came on stage and sang with them, if I recall.

    With your med you may get false memories, I should be good.

    I do remember you were there with Farrah Fawcett. Yup, that was it. Then the 6 million dollar man cam and ran you off. Until we told him how uncool it was and scared him with all the black clothes.

    Ah good times!

  7. Yup, that was me, when I looked like the second illustration on this page:

    I was still new at the wearing-all-black thing in the late 1970s. In those days, it was pretty much just me, Orson Welles, Johnny Cash, and (mostly) some really freaky people. In those days, people would look at me strangely and say, "Where are you going? To a funeral?" and I'd reply "Yeah. Yours."

    I almost got to meet Joey Ramone at the Continental in NYC, in the 1990s. I was there with my friend Laura, and we were about five feet away from him. Laura and myself were part of a SRO audience, watching whatever band was on stage (they always had several in an evening). Joey was in the audience, too. Laura walked up and asked him for his autograph. I debated doing the same thing, but before I could, she thought of a friend of hers who'd probably want one, so she walked up again and asked for his autograph a second time! I saw him roll his eyes -- he was just trying to enjoy the music -- as he signed it, so I decided not to bother him by asking for yet another signature. Now I'll never get another chance to meet him. Thanks, Laura.

    I did get to meet Dee Dee Ramone (who's also passed on) and Marky Ramone, on different nights.

    Speaking of dead people -- smooth, huh? -- my newest post will be up in a couple of minutes, and features lotsa dead people! Oboy!

  8. Summer flus are the absolute fucking worst! I usually manage one each summer and I hate them desprately. There are many songs people miss the point of. I have even found that there are entire bands, like Tool, for instance, that people miss the point of. It's another peeve of mine.


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