You always hear the punchline, but you never hear the entire joke. Here it is.
Little Johnnieâ€™s teacher asks him how his weekend was. â€œHorribly,â€ says Little Johnnie. â€œA car hit my dog in the ass.â€ She corrects him: â€œRectum.â€ â€œWrecked him?â€ Johnnie says. â€œDamn near killed him!â€
Kind of a letdown.
Now. Where to start. First let me state that The Howard Stern Show on Monday is going to be amazing. Rush and Molloy are reporting that Langeâ€™s entourage came under some REAL sniper fire (not that phony Hillary Clinton bullshit sniper fire) in Kandahar after the show. Everyoneâ€™s okay. But Iâ€™ll have my ears glued to the show Monday. The stories are going to be amazing.
I traversed with my Uncle Hat to Mendon New York last weekend to visit DOD to wish him a happy 60th birthday, which means I went up there to eat good food and to drink excellent wine and to spend a few days on a big fat beautiful farm and to eat eggs right out of the chicken. I have a little brother who at 12 is nearly as tall as I and whose voice is now deeper than mine. And I am confounded regarding his strangely discriminating taste in music. For him, if itâ€™s not machine gun guitars, it sucks. He actually said, and Iâ€™m paraphrasing, that the only band in the world capable of blending reggae and hard-core in any meaningful way is called â€œskindred.â€ I laughed my fool head off. Ska-core is one of my core areas of my practice as an amateur musicologist. I lurve ska-core and I have the mosh pit scars to prove it. And, Iâ€™m sorry, but this â€œskindredâ€ sucks big donkey balls. The Mighty Mighty Mighty Mighty Mighty Mighty Bosstones have nothing to worry about, nosirreebob. I for one always grew up with a broad base of musical appreciation, and the kid, he was jamming to the Jumpstarts at age 2. I just think thereâ€™s nothing like being able to sing along to both Iggy Pop and the Carmina Burana is all. Music is enormous. Itâ€™s bigger than the world. Feeding on nothing but Iced Earth and RATM forever is starving oneself, especially in a world in which Duke Ellington once thrived.
Which brings me to Ithaca. I finally got to see it. We went there for lunch on our way to Pennsyltucky to buy post-July 4 fireworks. Itâ€™s all right. Itâ€™s no Athens Georgia, no Chapel Hill, but itâ€™s no Athens Ohio either. It has a surprising amount of Jesus and is weirdly in a valley. I would like to go back when I have more time to walk around that little college town. We stopped in a music store and I bought a local CD, which I think is simply the proper thing to do when one visits a college town with a music scene. Boy With A Fish may crop up on the B.O.N.K. at some point.
I just have to say, I do not understand why you people insist on overcrowding subway cars. Another one will be along in five minutes or less. And it will be a better ride that will not leave you staring into the guyâ€™s armpit.
I am still trying to master programming at the B.O.N.K. It is a difficult balance to achieve. I enjoy creating playlists. I was at one time the master of the Ironic Segue Mix Tape (ISMiT). So I like to make the playlists and to put The Crew Cuts on right after AC/DC. But one canâ€™t spend every waking hour programming oneâ€™s anti-profit Internet radio station. So you also want a prolific abundance of songs to place in a shuffle rotation as a default. But then thereâ€™s no mastery at work and you sound like any other of these wonderful Live365 stations. So I am working out the balance. Please bear with me, all of you, he said into mid-air at nobody and nothing in particular.
My latest musical fascination is with the Celtic Kickass band called Flogging Molly. It took me awhile. But I do like Celtic-tinged music though I steer clear of the weird tendency of the genre to wander into new-age bullshit. But pub rock is good, and I think FM is the best of them.
That is all.