Heavy Metal Noise

Way back in 1984, I read a ridiculous commentary about Heavy Metal music in Michael Moore's alternative newspaper, the "Michigan Voice." The author, one Bill Brown, theorized a silliness about a need in young men to control women, worship the devil, and express angst about work and the world in general. Pompous me, I couldn't help myself but write a letter to the editor. Stating my defense of the musical genre, I even made claim that some metal could be regarded as "melodic."

OK, I was young and impassioned.

Moore took that one line to heart, it seems, because then after, he sarcastically referred to heavy metal as "melodic," mentioning it a couple times on his radio show, "Radio Free Flint."

Oh well, that is one instance where he and I definitely disagree. So then, today, I dug up both the article that raised my ire, and the letter I wrote. Yes, the good old days when writing a letter to a newspaper seemed to mean something!

(If you'd like to read these, it might be best to Right Click in the images, and then click on
"Save as..."  Then, open the files on your computer to see them in a bigger size.)

Filmy Residue

I got to see an "old" movie from 1987, the other night, called "Broadcast News."  I remembered it as a goodie -- a classic starring fave actors William Hurt and Holly Hunter.  It was the 80s, you know.  Sure, it had all the cheesy-ness of the 80s, a bit of gloss, a bit of dumbed-down interactivity inherent in commercial films, but there was indeed something more, here.  The dialog was sometimes clever. What wasn't said was just as important as what was. And the movie played slow, really slow, compared to today's big box office busters. No violence, not much sex (with just a glimpse of William Hurt's backside).  Why would anyone want to watch this thing?

I watched it because there was a story.  Yes, unrequited love (nothing new in Hollywood), a thin expose on phony newscasters, but nothing quite like the sledge-hammer, in-your-face "story"-telling of the recent Avengers film.  "Broadcast News" is a far cry from being the best move ever made, don't get me wrong. But I couldn't help notice that movies told a story, they were more like books, instead of headlines. Substance mattered, even if it was only a cute romantic comedy drama fairy tale.  Viewers had time to think, too, when scenes didn't race by, from one ridiculous flashy, jittery scene to the next. I think we were treated with respect, as if we had an attention span, like we could be interested, provided the right circumstances.

I saw the new Batman film today. I was looking forward to it, but I just couldn't bring myself to rush to the theater on Friday, after what happened in Colorado. So, I saw an early Sunday matinee.  Even with all the action and explosions, the flashy scenes, the cool costumes, people couldn't focus on the big screen in front of them. No, all over the theater, was the glow of smaller-screened cell phones. Throughout the entire film. Thank god there was a good story, or I might have been driven mad with their distraction.

Proper Dosage

Ed Roland and Will Turpin at the HOB.

Collective Soul, 

House of Blues

Houston

June 1, 2012

Having been to more than a few concerts in my life, I've gotten to a point where the experience is more important than the who or what.  I've seen Collective Soul half a dozen times now, so standing in the heat for hours, waiting for a chance for a decent photo, fighting with people in line, well, it ain't all that fun, when you don't have to.

To avoid most of that, the VIP Experience is worth all the money, and then some.  So, I got us tickets for the June 1 show at the House of Blues.  We were treated right, from the get-go. We, and about 25 others, were given laminated VIP passes, our tickets, and let into the air-conditioned venue way ahead of everyone else.  Why, well, because we also got to meet the band and get autographs, and our place at the stage. They gave us a signed lithograph, as well, which is very nice, indeed.

Lisa in the House.

Speaking of posters, the HOB restaurant had a custom poster advertising the concert in their restroom.  All I know is that somehow that very same poster ended up signed by the whole band and will be soon proudly displayed in my home.  Said bassist Will Turpin, "That'll look real nice, framed." Indeed, it will, Will.

The show was special because they played the entire "Dosage" album, in order, and then a set of their hits.  A very cool experience, and I hope they do it again.  Frontman Ed Roland saw my shirt for their "Youth" album, and expressed his delight that I was wearing it. When I explained that the album is my personal favorite, he remarked, "Maybe we should do that one next."  Please do, Ed. Please, do.

Hey, look, it's us!

Will's pick.

Part of Ed's setlist.

    

The music was fantastic. All those songs, how could it not be?  And the sound was perfect, from our vantage point, front and center.  That's how it should be. An easy, fun night, with great music by a favorite band, that you just happen to know a little bit better.

We're with the band.

Permanent Waves

Music is so powerful in my life that I can barely remember a moment without it. As children, my mom would pile my brothers and sister and me in the back of the family car, and we'd go for a ride to the outskirts of town. It was valuable, because that's when I learned to reflect, to think, to absorb the sights around me, but almost always turning thoughts into wonder about why the world is the way it is. And always, just as valuable, was the ever-present sound of radio, pouring out of the speakers, right into my ears, and casting an image in my brain. I learned much about melody and harmony and wondered even more about lyrics that for years to come would still not quite make sense to me.
One of the songs etching itself into my psyche was Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia." My God, those harmonies, that incessant rhythm, so different, so catchy, so uplifting, so indelible. The joy of music, so embedded in me, from the trips we took, when I was young, and lucky enough to have speakers that spoke to me. All I had to do was listen and feel.

Michael & Me, Part 2

Filmmaker and author Micheal Moore made the only Texas stop on his book tour right here in Houston, Friday, November 4. I hadn't talked him to him since he was on Larry King's radio show in 1990. Much has happened in the world since, not to mention that he's now a mega star. So, yeah, I just had to be there.

I got to Brazos Bookstore at 5:15. Passes for autographs were issued beginning at 5, and all the seats were already taken. I purchased a copy of the new "Here Comes Trouble," and slid into standing-room-only, waiting for his 7:30 arrival. I met a few folks, and chatted with them about politics in general, and Mr. Moore, specifically. I was wearing my "Radio Free Flint" shirt that momma got me last Christmas. Some lady across the store saw it, and turned her camera at me. More on her, later.

Most folks were old folks like me, or even older. I did meet a 23 year-old young man, who is part of a socialist organization. Other than that, not much young activism going on, there. Maybe the youngsters were all down at Occupy Houston.

The general manager of the bookstore told me that Moore had contacted him for the appearance, and of course they obliged. It wasn't the store who contacted Moore. I remarked that that was clearly a statement about his store. Indeed it was. The place had about 200 people jam packed into a tiny space. Aside from this one indy bookstore making some money, Moore donates his proceeds to local libraries on all of his book tour stops.

The clock finally struck 7:30, and in marched Micheal, along with his two body guards (needed ever since the Farenheit film), and a small entourage. The gathered crowd stood and cheered, and held up their camera phones like some discount amateur paparazzi.

Turning the tables, Micheal proceeded to interview the general manager, and then of course, make fun of him. Mocking Houston, Michael said, "I got news on my way here that all copies of the book have been sold out! Of course, they didn't order enough copies! 'Uh, yeah, just order a dozen of 'em. It's in Houston, and nobody will be there. And they can't read, anyway!' "

Micheal later Tweeted that, because there were not enough books, he had to sign arms and napkins. I made my way through the line, and talked with a nice lady standing next to me. We decided that we would both take photos of each other with Mr. Moore, once we got up there. That was a good idea, if I may say so, myself.

When I reached the signing table, I muttered, "Hi, Mike. You won't remember, but in the early 80s, I used to work in a certain Pizza Hut on Dort Highway."

"I know the place well!" he said. "By Atherton Road, right?"

"Yes," I answered. "You used to come to the drive-through on Saturdays, and we'd talk about what was going on." He looked straight at me, as if conjuring up those old days. He smiled, seeming to remember, or, at least, I think he remembered, and he shook my hand, and said, "Wow! Where'd you get that shirt?" He pointed it out to his wife, who was sitting off to the side of the store. She'd already seen it, she said. I realized it was her who was taking a picture of me, earlier.

I told him I got it from my mom last Christmas. "Where?", he still wanted to know, but I suggested that it was probably online. (Thanks for the shirt, mom!)

I said, "Thanks for everything you've done over the last 30 years or so."

He shouted back with "Hey, thanks for the pizza!"

Said the nice lady who took the photo of me, as were were walking out: "I'm gonna have to tell this story, you know. I stood in line next to the guy who made pizza for Michael Moore."

Yeah, I kinda like the story, too.

See Michael & Me (Part 1), by clicking here:

Go Go Girls Gone Wild!

With hits like "We Got The Beat," and "Our Lips Are Sealed" from 30 years ago, the Go Go's are back this summer for their reunion tour. The girl group -- Belinda Carlisle, Charlotte Caffey, Gina Schock, Jane Wiedlin and Kathy Valentine -- visted Houston's House of Blues last night, for an awesome trip down memory lane.

Lisa and I got in line in the heat early, just so we could get an up-close view of the legends in the flesh. Kathy and Jane were just inches from us, the whole night, and I have to say, they are the fun-sters in the group. Oh, sure, Belinda ain't bad to look at (even now), but Jane, with her wacky wit, dead-panning quips like "That was the Rolling Stones..." after a classic cover of "Mother's Little Helpers," made me laugh out loud. Duh! (And how could we not note the appropriateness of Belinda singing the words to that song?)




It was also evident standing nearly on the stage, that the gurls are really friends. Many smiles and jokes were shared by the band, who seem to be getting along just nicely, in their grown-up days. Kathy Valentine even brought on her daughter during one of the encores, calling her a "future Go Go."




We had a great time, naturally, with all the hits and then some, and lots of guitar-heavy pop. Belinda's solo hits made the set, too. Yup, we were Head Over Heels.

House We Used To Live In

This is the house we used to live in
This is a place in our green town
This is the house we used to live in
One look before they tear it down

The Smithereens, "House We Used To Live In"

I lived in this old house for 15 years, and the county flood control folks said it was no longer in their best interest to continue rebuilding after floods. I was most certainly in agreement, and took them up on their offer to buy me out. It took about two years to make it all happen, but I am thankfully ensconced in a nice new home. The above photo was taken the day I moved out. Below is what's left of the old home, now.