Today is Dec. 4, or as we call it around these parts, “Bummernacht,” the first day of Zappadan. It is called “Bummernacht” because it is the anniversary of Frank Zappa’s death. Zappa died 24 years ago today. It is also known as a day when many bloggers use the phrase “for the uninitiated…”

Laugh now.

I think yinz understand the concept. It’s another good idea we’ve borrowed from our Muslim friends, such as algebra and observing objects in the sky with telescopes to draw rational conclusions about the universe. Ramadan. Zappadan. Both really really long observances. But with Zappadan, no fasting!

In fact, one has unlimited license during this time to heat up yer stovetop, burn a weenie to a crisp, and slap it onto a slice of bread.

But do so with caution.

That kitchen of yours may be dangerous.

This article is about the Zapptist celebration during the opening of Zappadan.

The first (or 17th) day of Zappadan was originally known as Enttäuschung Nacht – German for ‘bummer night’ – but over the years it has been Americanized to the much simpler BummerNacht. This being the anniversary of Mister Zappa’s death, the original meaning is rather obvious, and we shall not delve further into it here.

Far from being a day of mourning, however, it is a day of great joy, for Zapptists know that a mere seventeen days later, on December 21st (Zero Day), Frank Zappa was born.

Traditionally, children are not allowed to participate in the celebration of BummerNacht, although teenagers are winked at if they decide to ‘run down to the library and not return until some ungodly hour of the night’. Celebrants are often seen cavorting to the exotic sound of the Mystery Horn while gorging on burnt weenie sandwiches and guzzling white port and lemon juice.

For me, Zappadan has traditionally provided a creative spark and a fantastic opportunity to mull in the Zappa. I have spent Zappadans in reporting mode, finding tidbits from the Miles biography to share. I have spent them in music appreciation mode, absorbing The Yellow Shark one year, and simply focusing on the Mothers era yet another. Zappadan began as a mere blogswarm. I think for many a fan, myself included, it has become a genuine installation of the holiday season. Thanksgiving. Zappadan. Hanukah. Kwanza. Christmas. Festivus.

Zappadan.

So let me begin this year by saying this: I love Frank Zappa.

I am a second-generation freak. My Dad was introduced to an album called Freak Out by a roommate. My Dad in turn played me the song “Who Are The Brain Police” when I was 3.

It gave me nightmares.

Later, as a teen, I glommed on to Dad’s copy of Only In It for the Money, then later Freak Out in college. Zappa’s rebellion and his contempt for people like my then freshman roommates, really rang a cord with me at the time. Mister America, walk on by…

But it was on a bus trip back home for the holidays that I really came to love Frank Zappa with a little thing called Burnt Weeny Sandwich.

Have you heard this thing? It is glorious.

The Story of Frank Zappa’s ‘Burnt Weeny Sandwich’

So several years ago, I became aware of this thing called “Zappadan.” And it has only grown and swelled until it is a TASTY LITTLE SUCKER. I see actual RADIO STATIONS observing the Zappadan. We see Zappadan generally celebrated outside of the grander blogosphere. Pretty nice for a one-time cute little blogswarm.

But hey. Enough of my yackin’! What’dya say? Let’s boogie!

In Other Zappadan
• The Music of Frank Zappa: Musical Precedents and Influences, by Dr. Joseph Klein (University of North Texas)
• Frank Zappa in the 70s (teamrock.com)
• zappadan.com

Ya’ll didn’t think I forgot, did you?

Let. Zappadan. Commence.

As you may well know, Zappadan is an annual blogswarm running from April 11 through November 1, which represents the first day that Dweezil Zappa made a poo-poo in the toidy through the day the WORLD CHAMPION KANSAS CITY ROYALS CLINCHED THE WORLD SERIES IN FIVE GAMES. We celebrate this fine holiday by pluning at the gnomes and sorting out the binomial nomenclatre of the lemons and the geese.

I hear you’re having trouble with pigs and ponies.

Now. As you know, what I have just typed is not actually the truth about the Zappadan. But I finger that enough people will explain to you the ins and outs of the Gregory Peccary, that it begins on December the Fourth, which is the day in 1993 that composer, musician, and rock god Frank Zappa stopped refusing to die, which is today, concindentally as a zombie woof, to December 21, which is my kid brother’s birthday, and also soul singer Betty Wright’s birthday, and is also composer, musician, and rock god Frank Zappa’s birthday, too, so the holiday goes from Bummernacht, which is today, which is today, which is today, to the birthday of the Frank Zappa, which I was not going to explain to you, but which I just did.

America drinks and goes home.

I usually spend the holiday bloviating at this little blog area I have created and maintained for a pretty long time. Topics this year that may or may not be discussed: Little Richard. Gail Zappa. My Dad. The little house I used to live in. Underpants. Prince. Paul Robeson. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Pauline Butcher. The artificial fart under the arm. My perpetual life status as an outsider. The Republican Party. Star Wars. Lou Reed. AAAFNRAA. Suzie Quatro. My auditory cortex. Stranger danger. The first time Dweezil Zappa made a poo-poo in the toidy. Gerbils. The new Frank Zappa CD. The new Dweezil Zappa CD. Tony Bennett. The new Frank Zappa movie.

And, I think today it is appropriate to write a little something about San Bernardino.

Frank Zappa reviled San Bernardino in song, once referring to “San Berdino squares” and again later in an entire composition based on his own experience in Rancho Cucamonga after a trumped-up porno charge by an overzealous detective. He wrote:

“The ten days I spent in Tank C at the San Bernardino County Jail were very educational. Unless you’ve been to jail, you can’t imagine what it’s actually like….We were supplied with one razor blade per day, and one small shower stall at the end of the cell block for forty-four men. The scum on the shower basin was about four inches thick. I didn’t shave or take a shower the whole time I was there.”

From the Miles biography:

Frank was a different person when he came out. He no longer believed anything the authorities told him. As far as he was concerned the American education system had failed him; it was a lie from start to finish, the reality was America was a corrupt, grubby little fascist state. He was determined never to be duped again. Tank C [His jail area] traumatized him for life and in many ways he spent the rest of his career shoving his pornographic tape down America‘s throat, time and time again. He was determined to show Americans what their country was really like.

So, there’s that.

But tonight, on this Bummernacht, we can take a new bead on the ol’ Inland Empire. In a way, in a somewhat perverse way, it may be good that Frank Zappa can’t see what in the wide wide world of sports it’s all come to.

Sigh.

Anyway, kids, the other thing I’ll be writing about OTHER BLOGGERS. Other bloggers who are blogging Zappadan. Cuz, after all, this is a blogswarm. And that’s what it’s all about. Sharing is caring.

But hey, enough of my yakkin’. What do you say? Let’s boogie!

–30–

I am trying to find a fairly non-intrusive way to keep the @zappadan Twitter somewhat active year-round. This of course is to help gather followers and to keep the account relevant.

How about a bit of Frank history? I’m calling the hashtag #ZappaYore and gleaning historic Zappa points from various sources. The first one dropped today:

December 23, 1984: Frank @Zappa plays the Universal Amphitheater in Universal City, Calif. Chronology

Guest guitarist was @DweezilZappa.

Tracks from the Universal City show are included on You Can’t Do That on Stage Anymore, Vol. 4 and Vol. 3

Setlist is here #ZappaYore