Category Archives: Entertainment

July 12, 2017 · 1:09 pm

Summer School

So I’m driving toward Longport on Tilton Road for my family’s annual pilgrimage to my childhood beach community down the shore, and we pass the Shore Mall movie theater. I was instantly transported back to my adolescence, and in particular, one jaunt to that theater occupied my thoughts on this passing. After all, it had been pretty much 30 years to the day when two of my favorite guilty pleasure movies were released. Because I was 14 and did not have my license yet, getting a ride off the island to one of the two Cineplexes (Cineplexi?) in the vicinity happened pretty infrequently (i.e., when my friends’ or my parents wanted quiet, or when any of them were headed to the movies themselves due to rain). We were otherwise confined to the limited selection at the Margate and Ventnor Twin theaters, but more often than not, had seen all four of the movies offered in pretty short order.

Summer_school_poster

Summer School and The Lost Boys came out the very same weekend during the summer of 1987. At the time, I wasn’t entirely over my childhood fear of horror movies (I went to see Poltergeist with an older cousin when I was 9 years old and had nightmares for a full year). So despite the fact that pretty much everyone I knew was talking about TLB…especially the girls…and I was at an age where I definitely preferred to go places where girls might be present…I made the difficult choice to see Summer School, a movie I knew little about and which proffered a B-list cast (other than one of the stars of my then-favorite television show Cheers). As an aside, I had no idea who Mark Harmon was at the time, and would see the movie Stealing Home later that summer for the first time. Melrose Place wouldn’t put Courtney Thorne Smith onto the map for a few more years.

To this day, I am not disappointed in my decision. Summer School was great. Mr. Shoop, roller skates, Wondermutt and all, saved the day, against all odds. Ana Maria was great (and would go on to play Alotta Fagina in Austin Powers). And the dude who spent the entire summer in the bathroom was, put plainly, my favorite character in the movie. Summer School did highlight a great deal about why America’s education system is so horrific…from the emphasis on standardized testing, the tenure system, the lack of resources in the public school system and of course the complete neglect of those students, whom for whatever reason (and this particular film highlighted a multitude), failed to grasp the basic skills to move forward in their education, as determined by a Scantron test. But nevertheless, it was a fun summer movie chock full of classic quotable lines and characters, and is a movie I will seldom turn off if I happen upon it flipping through the channels.

It wasn’t until The Lost Boys made it to the premium cable channels the following year that I finally found the courage to watch it. And watch it again and again and again. This movie featured a cast of mostly male youngish actors who were heartthrobs. This was not the reason it resonated with me. I did not subscribe to Seventeen, Tiger Beat nor Teen Magazine. I did not find any male member of the cast dreamy, not the Coreys nor Jason Patrick nor Jack Bauer nor William “Bill” S. Preston, Esquire, for that matter (I did have a thing for Jamie Gertz for a hot minute, but it wasn’t a love that was pursued after the credits rolled). The movie won me over because its script was well written, its plot was intriguing and suspenseful and its soundtrack…all I can type is wow. In the opinion of IDROS, whatever that is worth, TLB has a Mount Rushmore level soundtrack for movies not about music or musicians (this idea alone is worthy of another post sometime in the near future, so stay tuned).

TLB is one of those movies that is sneaky good in so many ways. Among the many reasons it is nearly impossible to turn off whenever I happen upon it are the fact that its themes are timeless (brotherhood, being the new kids in a strange town, family dynamics, the dangers of love and how clueless we can be when falling under its spell, etc.) The movie also offers plenty of comic relief throughout, be it from the Frog brothers or Grandpa, to cut the horrifying tension and counteract the overarching evil that lurks beneath the seemingly innocuous teen romp the movie often appears to be. And finally, at the base of it all, TLB is a Vampire movie. Before True Blood, the Vampire Diaries, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Blade, and a generation before the Twilight saga, one could argue that TLB was one of the first (no, IDROS did not forget Anne Rice) to successfully expand upon Bram Stoker’s themes and package them for teens and young adults thirsting for a blood-sucking Brady Bunch story…or at least a more modern twist on Vampiric lore.

Anyway, during a recent viewing of TLB, which spawned the idea for this post, IDROS began to see Max’s family of undead in a new way. My epiphany occurred during the most unpleasant scene in the entire movie, IMHO, which is when David and his Lost Boy brothers take Michael out to “hunt” for the first time, and they horrifically feed on a group of partying young adults around a bonfire. As I watched the awful scene unfold for the umpteenth time, I realized that Vampires, particularly those in this movie, are a terrorist organization not unlike ISIS, or Al Qaeda. Think about it…they kill innocent people in gruesome ways; they recruit others by promising eternal youth (a trip to heaven surrounded by virgins); they blend into society, even having jobs such as the friendly town video store proprietor; they use caves as a hideout/lair/home; they are vengeful; and the greatest connection of all – Kiefer Sutherland who plays David, arguably the most fearsome terrorist, I mean vampire, in TLB, would basically reinvent himself more than a decade later playing the foil to terrorists worldwide as Counter Terrorist Unit (CTU) superman, Jack Bauer.

If you want to know how this post came to be…the truth is it was on a dare. Someone who reads IDROS gave your author four themes, and threw down the gauntlet. “You seem to be posting less and less frequently. Here’s some motivation. Combine the themes ‘Summer,’ ‘Education,’ ‘Terrorism,’ and ‘Tina Turner’ in your next post and I will bestow upon you my own version of a Pulitzer” (when pressed for details on said prize, IDROS was told that it involved a ticket to an upcoming concert).

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

Oh, and as for Ike’s ex-wife: The shirtless, long-haired saxophone dude who plays on the amusement pier in TLB (“I Still Believe”) is none other than Ms. Turner’s chief of brass on tour. Check him out here basically pleasuring the venerable pop star with his horn in an amazing version of Private Dancer.

Happy Summer all.

IDROS

Trivia:

Did you know that TLB was originally written to be an updated take on Peter Pan, in which Peter (which was David’s original character name) was a vampire? It’s true. There are a multitude of Easter eggs from that storyline that remain in the movie, including the title itself, that point to that original theme. IDROS is glad Joel Schumacher, who directed, insisted on removing the overt Peter Pan references.

There is one actor/actress who appeared in both movies referenced above. Can you name him or her?

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February 26, 2017 · 3:07 pm

Kilroy

mr-roboto

The problem’s plain to see

Too much technology

Machines to save our lives

Machines de-humanize

I apologize to the loyal readers of IDROS for my long radio silence.

I do not want to get political, and have tried to refrain from joining, and invariably contributing to, the awful vitriol that has engulfed our nation and all media and social media outlets over the past year.

IDROS has basically sat stupefied, mouth agape, head in hands, alternating between muttering and outright screaming streams of four letter words since the election cycle got into full swing last year…the histrionics picked up after the primaries, and the past month has been a giant shitstorm of head-scratching, visceral pain, recurring nightmares and abject horror.

The dystopia that has enveloped what I once believed to be the greatest nation on the planet is NOT the fault of the Orange Twitter Troll. He is merely a symptom (think diarrhea, or migraines, or vomiting, etc.) of an amalgam of problems that all came to a head over the past decade…but how anyone in this once proud nation of ours with a true second grade education or higher can look me in the eye and honestly tell me they are 100% confident in having a male Kardashian, a narcissistic man-child with thinner skin than refrigerated pudding, a lying, misogynistic, shallow, science-denying troglodyte at the helm, influencing global and national policy on a daily basis…is beyond my comprehension.

But still, trying to avoid politicizing this post, it is not the doofus played by Alec Baldwin’s fault that we are in this position. DT did not create the rampant pay-to-play, corporate controlled political system mired in a “no-win,” corrupt, two-party system that ensures whomever escapes the gauntlet with the presidential crown will be beholden to many rich and powerful people and companies and other nations, but never to the actual people who vote en masse. And DT is not responsible for the racism that flows effortlessly from sea to polluted sea (even if he has become its champion), nor the firmly entrenched institutional racism that continues to divide our nation long after the Emancipation Proclamation, Abraham Lincoln and the fall of John Crow.

The Donald, toupee wearing ass clown that he is, and his band of unqualified, upper-crust, out-of-touch, swamp-dwelling-extraordinaire, racist losers that comprise his cabinet, has become a scapegoat and the ultimate target for the leftists in our nation. They will spend the next year, or two or four, or god forbid, even eight years fighting these f-wits’ every move…and with good reason. But what really needs fighting…and their full attention…are the reasons he “won.” The underlying cancer(s) that have thrust our nation into this mess, that made it possible that a self-conscious 12-year-old in a 70-year-old’s body could ascend from the celebrity C-list circus to the highest office on earth.

Or so I thought…

We have a bigger problem than Trump, his mostly unqualified and undeserving cabinet, and the reasons most research and media outlets point to as why Trump won…a much bigger problem, one that threatens all of humanity, frankly.

Maybe you are wondering why I titled this post “Kilroy,” and led with a song lyric that seemingly has nothing to do with anything I have written to this point.

Maybe IDROS simply really loves Styx, and fondly remembers roller skating at Young’s Regency to songs like Mr. Roboto. Maybe IDROS was hearkening back to a simpler time, in the early 80s, when IDROS was 10 and hadn’t a true care in the world…when the man-sized Oompa Loompa was still married to his first wife and had not yet opened any casinos in Atlantic City.

Or perhaps IDROS speaks Japanese, spent some time living in Japan and appreciates the references to the Land of the Rising Sun, and the Japanese language in the lyrics.

Or…the band’s name really seemed apt today. The mythical river, after all, was as divisive as our current Halloween Marshmallow Peep-led administration, and I suppose many would be pretty satisfied with the analogy of POTUS Chump to Hades. Even Cerberus, the mythical 3-headed beast guarding Hades, is well-represented by Bannon-Spicer-Pence. Hades himself is described throughout the mythical canon as being cold, stern and wrathful, with a childish stubbornness, rage and poor self-image (which derived from him basically drawing the short stick, which banished him to lord over the underworld, while his two brothers inherited the air and sea).

While A, B and C are all solid guesses, and pretty spot on in their own right, the truth is IDROS recently read the scariest article ever and realized humanity, especially for those in the 99%, is in greater peril than imagined. Even by great thinkers like Carl Sagan, who in 1990, warned: “We live in a society absolutely dependent on science and technology and yet have cleverly arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. That’s a clear prescription for disaster.”

The article in question: Click here

Please find a quiet spot, take a deep breath, click on the hyperlink and try to make it through this piece without flying off the handle.

I am sorry for sharing that with you. But here’s the thing. I reiterate…it’s still not Trump’s fault. He harnessed [read: purchased] the power and used it for his own brand of evil, sure. But this technology is up for grabs. If it wasn’t him, it would have been someone else…and it will be seized upon by people and entities far worse than the giant Cheeto. And used in ways far more sinister. Think about it. And by the way, this is only the beginning. This technology will improve, and become even more accurate. The data it uses will only become more accurate and more pervasive. And I hate to say it, but just as Sagan (and Orwell, and a litany of others) warned, the majority of the world population will become more and more ignorant to the increasingly advanced technologies that drive this Orwellian nightmare.

After a rough stretch, I sat down and pondered the situation. I believe we can make a concerted effort to combat those who might seek to exploit us through technology. My thoughts are below. As always, IDROS welcomes and encourages all of you to comment and add to this list:

  1. We really have become way too dependent on technology in general. Whatever you can do to ween yourself off the teat of Silicon Valley, even just a little bit, will be helpful. I realize this is a platitude, so find a way to unplug every now and then…put down the smart phone, read an actual book or magazine, write an actual letter…learn or embrace a non-tech-related hobby…exercise more…go acoustic…find your beach;
  2. Make yourself difficult or even impossible to map by these BIG BROTHER wannabees. This is where it gets interesting, and even fun. Don’t be so predictable when using technology. Visit sites that have content opposite or vastly different from your own beliefs. When shopping, hit up online stores that go against all of your fashion sensibilities, your musical taste, and your general preferences. Go to dating sites where you never in a million years would think to go. Same with porn. Same with news, sports, blogs and anything else. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, don’t buy shit online if you can help it…(I realize that organic baby food your baby loves isn’t sold in stores, and you need your anonymity to buy those Civil War and Third Reich relics…and I know the convenience is pulling you like gravity, but think of it as saving the retail real estate industry. I know. That is going to be tough. But if you want your freedom, think of IDROS as Morpheus, and this advice is the red pill (and the removal of the tracking device);
    • ***On a related topic, we are already way past the point of no return with how we buy things…because of credit cards, debit cards and all sorts of electronic payment options, tracking our spending habits gets easier every day. I am not sure how we reverse this, or ensure complete privacy, but how we consume is and will continue to be a leading driver in how tech companies and those that control them can map us, our personalities and ultimately anticipate how we behave and thus influence our vote (if we even have a vote anymore);
  3. Turn your devices off whenever you can, and be sure to disable any cameras unless you are using them – who knows who might be watching, or hacking;
  4. Know that whatever you post, email or blog will be permanently inscribed for eternity, and will be searchable and likely used against you either directly or indirectly. Be careful, and teach your children to use caution as well;
  5. Stop taking those ridiculous tests (IQ, Which Facts of Life Character Are You? How well do you know the movie Sixteen Candles? What Color Is Your Personality? ETC…) This goes double for those social network games, by the way…you know who you are, and to what I am referring…just stop;
  6. We need to find out which tech leaders are with us [read: good people], and empower them to assist us in preventing a 1984/Matrix/Terminator tech-driven dystopia. People were very quick to #deleteUBER, and screamed bloody murder when Elon Musk joined Trump’s advisory team…but if any of these tech leaders (Gates, Zuckerberg, Ellison, Brin, et al) truly have humanity’s best interests at heart…we need to figure that out, and we need those men and women to join ranks with the likes of Trump and Theresa May, and to ensure that harmful technology does not end up in the wrong hands; and,
  7. If I am missing anything, and I am sure I am, because this is complicated and mostly above my paygrade, please add to these ideas in the comment section below.

IDROS is frightened by recent events. There is a lot going on, and much of it, unfortunately, is awful. While the media is in many ways as bad as it is good (and in, fact, is largely responsible for an ego like POTUS rising from Reality Star to his current perch), what is happening vis-à-vis Cap’n Hell-Toupee and multiple media outlets is unacceptable.

F-it. I tried to avoid getting political, but I can’t do it.

IDROS promises not to ramble on too much more, but here is my general take, if you couldn’t crack my code already:

Trump is bad….and embarrassing. But none of this is his fault. The system was clearly broken before his ascent from the bowels of the underworld. With a great deal of assistance from technology, which is pretty much terrifying, and a little more from Russia, which is scary too, especially since they seem to employ technological warfare quite well, here we are, on the precipice with all that is sacred, watching as the foundation supporting us is eaten away and compromised more quickly than a sand castle in a rising tide…during a hurricane.

IDROS is generally optimistic, however. All of what was broken before Brexit and Trump still threatens us… more so even than Trump and his Fourth Reich. Had anyone else won the 2016 US election, nothing would have changed. None of our systemic failures would have been fixed. And we would continue to plod along in a broken world, becoming more and more marginalized. IDROS believes that our current assclown-in-chief is so loathed, and so bad for humanity in general that he will serve to actually unite enough people to not only remove him and his cronies from office, but also to fix much of what created the perfect storm that led to his election in the first place.

Anyway…keepin’ it light pre-Oscars. Enjoy the show tonight. RIP Bill Paxton. And if I am wrong/misguided regarding my optimism above, in one of his great character’s immortal words (using a bit of poetic license), “we’re stewed buttwads.”

Thanks as always for reading,

IDROS

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July 24, 2015 · 3:01 pm

Fare Thee Well – Seven From The Vault

It has been a full three weeks since I embarked on the emotional rollercoaster weekend of music, friends, community and fun that was Fare Thee Well: Three Shows in Chicago. I finally caught my breath, had time to reflect and find my voice (my external voice, which was spent from exuberance, singing and cheering; and my internal voice, which has been sorting through and processing the full spectrum of emotions and experiences GD50 provided). I have been combing through the attics of my own life since first discovering the band in 1985, reading reviews and articles, re-listening to the shows, juxtaposing those performances with some of my favorites from throughout the ages (thank you Archive.org and Sirius 23), and really trying to wrap my arms around not only last weekend, but my all-encompassing thirty year love affair with the band. (Find a link to my last GD related post here… this post received the honor of Freshly Pressed by Word Press)

I read a while back about the origins of the band name. Jerry sifting through a large tome (Funk & Wagnall’s Standard Dictionary of Mythology, Folklore and Legend) at Phil’s house one night, hanging out with the band in their formative years…presumably playing as the Warlocks. He comes across an entry where the two words jumped off the page at him…numbingly black, bordered by gold…just staring him in the face. Grateful Dead. And beside the words began a short parable, a folk story of a hero who came upon a throng of people who were mistreating a corpse…kicking and spitting at the dead body, speaking ill of the man it used to be and refusing to bury him. The hero inquires as to why the throng would desecrate a man’s honor in such a way, and was told the dead man had not paid his debts to the townspeople. Upon hearing this, the hero gives the townspeople every last cent he has as well as all his worldly possessions to ensure a proper burial for the corpse. The townspeople obliged, and the hero was on his way. Later, he comes across a wanderer in his travels who accompanies him on the next leg of his journey. His new traveling companion helps the hero amass a small fortune in short order, and also saves the hero’s life. Later, he reveals to the hero that he was the corpse that the hero had honored.

Or maybe the psychotropic drugs the band was using at the time helped Jerry embellish his memory, and he just really liked the name. Either way, I never let the facts ruin a good story.

But nonetheless, Fare Thee Well certainly honored the life and memory of one of rock music’s greats. And it also honored the entire band, its revolutionary contributions to the music world, its community of fans…and the incredible 50 year journey we all have helped make so memorable.

The number seven (7) played a key role in Fare Thee Well. The musicians on stage numbered seven…and July, the month of all three performances, is the seventh calendar month. The letter G, which begins both the band’s name and its founder’s surname, is the seventh letter in the alphabet. There are seven letters in Chicago, Soldier, Shapiro, Madison and in Bob Weir. Even our mail orders were sent to GDTSTOO. (It’s been hot for seven weeks now, Too hot to even speak now, Did you hear what I just heard?)

In keeping with the number seven Gematria, here are my seven most pressing takeaways from Fare Thee Well:

1) Jerry – Let’s discuss the elephant in the stadium right up front. I like to think that the real reason Bobby and Phil couldn’t keep this thing going TOGETHER after Jerry’s passing is that it was just too hard. He meant so much to all of us as fans, and certainly to the music, but he meant so much more to his brothers…his band mates for thirty years. Hearing Phil’s words before his donor rap Friday night, you could tell what Jerry meant to him. And if you watched The Other One, Bobby’s recently released documentary, you get a clear picture of exactly what Jerry meant to him. Jerry was the straw that stirred the drink. He was the engine, the driving force and de facto leader of the band, who had a magical voice I have described to my wife as what I believe the fabric velvet would sound like if it were audible. The sadness we all felt when Jerry died must have been exponentially more intense for the core four, and for at least some of them, being together and playing the music and living that life together would just bring his memory back…magnify the fact that he was missing and reopen the wounds. It must hurt…and I get it.

BUT…there were moments each night, when the band was in synch and emotions ran high, when I could feel Jerry’s presence right there on stage. It brought tears to my eyes. And the well thought out two-song encore on Sunday…TOG and Attics…well that was almost unfair in its perfection. We will get by…we will survive. Because even when there are no strings to play, he played to all of us. Jerry is eternal through the beautiful musical legacy he left us.Jerry FTW

We, as fans, never had the chance to say a proper goodbye. Maybe the band didn’t have that chance as well. Fare Thee Well provided everyone with a perfect opportunity to bid Jerry farewell, and to celebrate all that his life and legacy have given to us.

Five themes (Music/Dreams/Children/Love/Gratitude) were constant throughout the weekend, within the lyrics of the songs the band played, within the Grateful Dead songbook as a whole (which provided a backdrop to our collective experience in our hotel rooms, in our cars, and all over Shakedown Street), and as abstract or overt messages in the event itself.

2) Music is the unifying force, and is central to why we made the trek to Chicago in the first place…and that is true for the band and the fans. The band’s lyrics are rich with musical references, allegories and imagery. We are all players in the Heart of Gold Band. Our weekend was, in fact, replete with fireworks, calliopes and clowns.

Coming full circle, and opening with BOR, the very song that would be the last played by the band with Jerry in the same venue, was ethereal. This simple but well thought out gesture signified to the throngs that the band understood, and was on our collective wavelength. It demonstrated the band’s commitment to its fans and the history of the Grateful Dead and to Jerry to, for the next three days, create a bridge back in time twenty years and deliver a proper farewell…one none of us ever truly experienced…and a true celebration of the band, the fans and especially the music.

And the music we heard was great. Frankly, it might have been, overall, the best three day run of music I have seen the band play since the early 1990s. It wasn’t perfect, but when has it ever been? There were moments of transcendence, and others that certainly wouldn’t warrant an ante in a game of Jacks or Better…but that is what makes this band so special. There is a 400+ song musical treasure trove from which they can choose from on any given night, and to only repeat two songs over the course of five shows was amazing. To put that in perspective: U2 just put on two shows in MSG over the weekend and there were 19 songs out of a 23-25 song show that were repeated both nights. And the Fare Thee Well set lists were chock full of fan favorites and rarities, and offered a nice representation of the evolution of the band’s full oeuvre across four decades.

Music is why we came…and the music delivered, on all levels.

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine; And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung; Would you hear my voice come through the music; Would you hold it near as it were your own?

3) Dreams, like good music, take us places only our imagination will allow. There are no limits. Dreams and dreaming are a constant theme in the GD canon. We all dreamed the band would get together again one day…

All the years combine, they melt into a dream.

When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.

4) Children: In the two decades since I last saw the Grateful Dead, a great deal has changed in my life. The greatest and most important change was/is the birth of my children. I know I am not alone. Children are found throughout the GD oeuvre. Playing the songs for my children, watching them dance and tap their feet to the music is priceless. Jerry lives on through his music…and also through his children. We all do.

God bless the child, who rings that bell.

And the kids, they dance and shake their bones.

5) Love: My wife and I shared our first dance together as husband and wife to They Love Each Other. Love is a ubiquitous theme throughout the Grateful Dead songbook. Even the songs the band covers tend to focus on the greatest of all of life’s forces. There was so much love in Chicago. I couldn’t make it to Santa Clara, unfortunately, but I am sure love ran ram shod at Levi as well.

A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through.

You know our love will not fade away.

6) Gratitude: There was so much to be thankful for, the shows may have been better served being played the fourth Thursday in November. The band’s lyrics are littered with gratitude, as is the band name. But Fare Thee Well was really a giant forum for us, as fans, to thank the band we all love one last time, and for that band to thank us for an incredible ride. And for all of us to thank Jerome John Garcia.

Shapiro certainly deserves praise and thanks for his efforts. It was no small task to put that incredible three (five) day run together, and to basically tie-dye the city of Chicago. I frequented his first club, Wetlands, in NYC for years, listening to Dead cover bands and other Jam band offshoots, so I know firsthand where he came from, and booking the Phish cover band Stash to play for 150 people, mostly from the same Long Island town the band hailed from was a far cry from Fare Thee Well. Who knew?

001It wasn’t always pretty, but as Dave Chappelle so eloquently put it from the witness stand during his Michael Jackson trial bit…”He made Thriller…Thriller.”

Trey also earned high praise and gratitude from most in attendance and those in the cheap seats on couch tour. He performed admirably in a role that featured a higher degree of difficulty than the Triple Lindy. In many ways, he was in a no-win situation…and yet, somehow managed to prevail, proving he was the right man for the job and delivering some memorable takes on a number of songs most feared could not be properly interpreted by anyone other than JG.

But you know who else deserves more thanks than he got in Chicago…and in general over the years? Robert friggin’ Hunter, that’s who. That cat can straight up write lyrics…maybe Bob Dylan was better….maybe. But he’s on a very short list at the tippity top of whatever Mount Rushmore of lyricists our world has ever seen. And I can’t tell you how many times his words have brought a smile to my face.

7) Chicago/Soldier Field – Chicago was, in typical fashion, the Second City yet again. But this paid off, as the band found their footing and began to really gel by the time they made it from Santa Clara to Chicago.

Soldier Field was not ideal in any way. Stadia in general don’t offer the best acoustics when it comes to music. And this particular stadium had the most god-awful ingress-egress issues that it made an all-cash toll booth during rush hour seem like an Easy Pass lane on a rural freeway. It seemed like some evil genius was watching through one-sided glass as he funneled the crowds slowly toward a torture chamber.

But…we all made it in to the shows…and back out into the Chicago nights with giant smiles on our faces.

Soldier Field, like Fare Thee Well, was built to honor and remember heroes. And on this Fourth of July weekend, it served both causes equally. Furthermore, Soldier Field in its present form mirrored the band, as it combined historic architecture, its original look and feel, with modern additions and amenities featuring walls of glass levels and luxury boxes. Soldier Field

As the twentieth set of Days Between approach, and still glowing from the exuberance of Fare Thee Well, we can now move forward with the closure we weren’t afforded back in 1995. Constant reminders of the popularity of this event continue to resonate, both within the Grateful Dead community as well as in the strangest of places if you look at it right…take this article as exhibit A.

I thank Peter Shapiro, Madison House and the band and crew for a real good time. Here’s hoping for another celebration of equal or greater quality sometime soon…and please let it be somewhere on the east coast.

All the best,

IDROS

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August 30, 2014 · 4:39 pm

Things

1) Pretty sure I saw the big DJ from Maloney’s circular bar a few weeks ago when I was at the shore…I did a double take and may have even stared a second or two too long…but that guy played Bon Jovi and Bruce and kept the party going until hours I only see when my baby cries in the middle of the night (because my two year old woke her up crying and I am useless).

2) Where in the world did Tia Carerre (her real name is Althea Rae Janairo, BTW) go? First off…her real name is Althea. I love the name Althea. But she was one the hottest actresses on the planet for a hot cup of coffee in the early to mid-90s…almost ubiquitous. Then she took a wrong turn with Pauly Shore and a second misstep with Eric Roberts and then found herself mired in B-Movie hell with a veritable who’s who in the netherworld of straight-to-video C-Listers from Stevie Baldwin to the pro’s pro, Steven Seagal…

3) A day on Venus is longer than a year on Venus. That’s right…look it up (or just click this link). Not only that, Venus is the only planet in our Solar System that spins counter-clockwise…so the sun rises in the West and sets in the East. Talk about an Axis that’s Bold as Love

4) These two guys:
Things 1 and 2

5) I just finished watching The Wire, which was tops on my list for shows to be snarfed down like a box of Bugles or Thin Mints or anything else that it is extremely difficult to stop eating/drinking/doing once you start…binge watching at its finest. As promised, the show now rests firmly in my own pantheon of top five dramas of all time (where, exactly, I am still not sure)…but I can say this unequivocally: Whereas The Sopranos and Lost had endings that irked and disturbed me because they were executed somewhere between questionably and poorly (for Lost, that might be kind)…David Simon’s opus (vastly different than Mr. Holland’s) disturbed me at its end because the subject matter is just incredibly frustrating and vexing and well, disturbing…from beginning to end and everywhere in between.

6) I recently learned that Quentin Tarantino has the exact same IQ as none other than Steven Hawking…yeah, I wasn’t sure what to do with that either, but on some level it just makes sense. You will all get a kick out of this link

7) And lastly, there is a time when you and your partner/spouse/significant other are pregnant, but you are mired in the delicate period of “loose lips sink ships,” unable to tell anyone but the closest of relatives for fear of jinxing everything. It’s a weird couple of months, and as the safe zone approaches, I find it more and more difficult to keep the secret. Recently, in our eleventh week, I ran into a couple while out with friends (wifey wasn’t with me)…the woman was probably eight months preggo…it was so obvious I felt comfortable breaking rule number one for men when speaking to women…assuming (or asking) if she is, in fact, knocked up. I was excited as a father-to-be and so I found myself blurting it out to these two complete strangers just because of the bond of pregnancy.

Anyway…that’s my show for today. Enjoy the day and fruits of your labors.

Love and peace,

IDROS

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July 3, 2014 · 4:14 pm

And With Freedom Comes Responsibility

flag-day-fireworks

There are a great many options when it comes to spending (I prefer investing) our free time in today’s world.

We can take ridiculous “tests” that determine which Kardashian we would be, or which character in Silver Spoons we would be, or which nursery rhyme villain, Disney World ride, Lady Gaga outfit, extinct animal, Spielberg film, Shel Silverstein poem, Chinese Food menu item, etc…

We can crush Netflix original programs four episodes at a clip;

We can pore over, troll and contribute to various social media platforms;

We can have sex (alone or with others), pamper ourselves, shop, exercise, eat, travel, play sports or games, read, nap, Prancercise, meditate, go to the movies, do a crossword, enjoy time with friends or family, volunteer…

We have choices…lots of them. And for that, we are fortunate. God bless America.

I urge all of you to take an hour or so and read The Case for Reparations by Ta-Nehisi Coates, an intriguing and very well written piece recently featured in The Atlantic.

I have no idea how you will feel while and after reading the article. I read it a few weeks ago and still haven’t fully determined how I feel, what I think, and what, if anything, I should do now that I read it, given that it definitely affected me in profound ways.

A few of my personal takeaways:

Reading this piece made me feel ashamed and embarrassed to call myself an American in much the same way most of the W Bush presidency did (especially in the aftermath of Katrina – “Heck of a job, Brownie,” the invasion of Iraq and failure to find WMDs and his continual buffoonery that made him a global laughing stock) – and a great deal of the current Obama presidency is doing (Obamacare, the IRS scandal, his hypocrisy in solving the financial crisis – thank god we bailed out GM so they could continue to be so poorly run that their shoddily built cars have killed hundreds – and aren’t we all equally proud that our tax-dollar bailouts were used to bestow giant bonuses on Wall Street’s wolves just days after they fleeced us and the Federal Government out of billions. And don’t get me started on Obama’s consistently shameful treatment of Israel, arguably America’s most loyal and important ally, but alas that is for another article and another time.

My own black history education is shameful…and I know I am at least partly to blame for this. Worse still, I believe I received a top 1% education in our country, and still feel this is true, so I can’t imagine what is taught (and more importantly, what isn’t) in classrooms and curricula that unfortunately fall in the lower tiers of the American education system. I expect the world, and most importantly all Americans, to be educated on the Holocaust as I believe this will at least help to preclude something that awful from ever happing again…and I know there is a complete systemic failure right now in our country in making Holocaust education mandatory and in ensuring it is carried out professionally and effectively (watch this video if you don’t believe me). I similarly believe black history and race relations need to be taught at every level of education in our country. Ignorance nurtures racism…education combats ignorance.

Random thought: show me an important article on race that doesn’t feature an embarrassing nugget about a Philadelphia mayor…

Unfortunate thought: I am once again sickened by Donald Sterling, and he wasn’t even mentioned once in this article. (And Dan Snyder is no prize either).

History is littered with examples of man’s mind-bogglingly evil inhumanity towards his fellow man. Vonnegut built an incredible career upon that fact. Kubrick’s 2001 showcases man’s inhumanity as a core theme. Women (i.e., 50% of the world population) have been mistreated since the dawn of time, and unfortunately continue to suffer in many parts of the world. Same for homosexuals, mentally and physically challenged, vertically challenged, Native Americans and countless others. Bottom line, I am not sure reparations can ever fully repay everyone…or anyone, frankly, who has been egregiously wronged throughout history.

As a Jew and a grandchild of Holocaust survivors, I kept waiting for the author to relate his argument to a situation in which reparations have been paid in the recent past. I know Germany paid reparations to Israel and to survivors of the Holocaust. I was glad to see the parallel drawn, but was also upset that important lessons, themes and facts regarding Germany’s reparations were omitted. While Germany and some other groups did pay approximately $7 billion in today’s dollars to Israel and direct survivors of the Shoah, Jewish and otherwise, the payments were quite small (a few hundred dollars a month)…let’s say 500,000 people were paid, that total would amount to $14,000 per person. Furthermore, families of those who died received little or nothing. And payments typically only endured for the lifespan of the survivor, so once my grandfather passed away, his payments ceased…same with my grandmother. But what of their children? What of their parents, brothers, sisters and children that perished? The reparations contemplated by Coates are quite different to those paid by Germany in that money would only be paid to descendants of victims (obviously there is no choice at this point). And Coates fails to explain who actually footed the bill Germany paid, how it was funded, how news of it was received in Germany, who received payments, who didn’t, and who was responsible for determining all of this. At least for me, some if not all of that information would have been interesting if not essential for a true thought-provoking comparison to be made.

Among the issues not discussed are the feelings of resentment many Germans felt when these payments were announced – particularly Germans who believed they were innocent and whose families did not participate in the horror show. Also not discussed is the rampant Anti-Semitism raging through Germany and the rest of Europe today…so perhaps the cathartic act of reparations helped quash some racism in the immediate sense (though I doubt that), but the deep-seeded fear, hatred and ignorance always lingered just below the surface and were just waiting for time to pass, memories to fade and hard times to fall in order to resurface. Sure, Germany is not the most blatantly anti-Semitic country in Europe right now…so whoop-dee-doo…I guess the nation deserves a prize for that…but as a Jew, would I dare to live there right now? Would I be comfortable walking alone anywhere in Germany wearing a yarmulke, or a visible Star of David?

That said, I believe it was a good thing that Germany did anything at all even though you could never put a price-tag on the horror of the experience endured nor on the lives and livelihoods lost. But I am not sure I can ever forgive Germany despite the act of contrition. The problem is, it could never be enough, and the powerful and unimaginable anti-Semitism that it took to allow the Holocaust to be perpetrated had been ingrained into the fabric of German and Eastern European life over hundreds of years. Paying money most Germans never authorized or actually supported in reparations did not extinguish that ignorance and hatred.

And then there is this…I am honestly not sure how I feel about the premise of paying reparations given my ancestors were not in America during the time of slavery. My suspicion is there are many people who would feel similarly. Furthermore, my grandparents were treated just as horrifically in Germany and Poland and Russia, if not more so, were left with nothing, and faced awful racism themselves, even in America.

But when the time came to start over, even with nothing, in America…let’s just say that I concede it was fortunate my grandparents were white. Being white is a blessing in many ways for most Jews. If Jews were blue, or green or any color other than white, I am not entirely sure there would be any Jews left on our planet. Hell, we flirted with extinction more than a few times even with our light skin. But being white allowed many Jews to blend in with non-Semitic whites in many parts of the Western world and rise to some modicum of wealth and status. And for American Jews, it can be argued that many direct and indirect benefits we experienced as a result of being lucky enough to have light skin came, at least in some part, from the same exploitation of black people Coates argues quite convincingly benefitted (and continue to benefit) all white people in America. So we reaped and continue to reap the benefits, even if we aren’t culpable for the gruesome and unconscionable acts that enabled the benefits to exist.

Given the above sentiment, I am reminded of the seminal moment in Soul Man, when Darth Vader asks Pony Boy what he learned from his experience as a “black” man, and CTH replied, “if I didn’t like it, I could always get out…” I heard JEJ saying, “you’ve learned a great deal more than I thought” quite a few times as I read the piece.

Other pop-culture references I recalled during and after reading the article:

Dazed and Confused teacher, Ms. Ginny Stroud, to her class after the bell rings: “Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you’re being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth Of July brouhaha, don’t forget what you’re celebrating, and that’s the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn’t want to pay their taxes.”

The Wire, when Prez quoted the first few lines of The Rolling Stones’ Brown Sugar, and nobody had any idea what he was saying…the opening lyrics of that song are haunting.

Coates’ piece accomplished exactly what the author set out to do, in my opinion. He frustrated me. He made me feel guilt. But most importantly, he made me think. This is an important topic, and if nothing else, my hope is that the education requirements and curriculum for black history and race relations education are expanded as a result of this article.

Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful and safe holiday weekend. I am interested in hearing/reading your thoughts on Coates’ piece. Feel free to comment below.

Best regards,

 

IDROS

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December 25, 2013 · 12:12 pm

Christmas Caroling

carol brady

Two can play that game, Claus. I, too, have made a list (for a change). Oh, and I checked it twice. Why should you get to corner the market on list-making this time of year, anyway? You hear me, Mr. Saint Nick? (If that is even your real name). So you’re the world’s greatest mensch. Whoop-dee-doo. I’ve got my own list to unveil for you. So without further ado – I will quit rhyming.

Here are the top ten greatest Carols of all time…at least in my humble opinion (feel free to weigh in below, and add any I missed):

10) Carol Leifer – Seinfeld writer and inspiration for Elaine Marie Benes

9) Carol Alt – One of the first supermodels

8) Pete Carroll – Football coach vying to join the “elite” club comprised of Jimmy Johnson and Barry Switzer as the only head coaches to ever win both a collegiate national championship and a Super Bowl

7) Carol Channing – Actress from another generation, known for classics like Hello Dolly. I know her from her guest appearances on The Love Boat where she played Julie McCoy’s Aunt Sylvia

6) Diahann Carroll – Stage and television actress and singer

5) Carol Kane – Latke’s wife on Taxi; LIAR! She’s not a witch, she’s Miracle Max’s wife

4) Carroll O’Connor – Good ol’ Awchie Bunker, America’s favorite racist curmudgeon sweetheart

3) Carole King (or should I say, Carol Klein) – Tapestry is a masterpiece

2) Carol Burnett – Queen of the variety show

1) Lewis Carroll (which is actually a pseudonym for Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) – Creator of Alice, Wonderland, the looking glass, the Mad Hatter and the Jabberwocky, his deranged and brilliant creativity has inspired Disney classics as well as LSD-fueled paranoia…and that type of range must be applauded.

And in keeping with the Christmas music theme I invoked but haven’t really delivered upon, do you remember this classic? Please watch it. You will not be sorry. I just can’t believe it’s been nearly 30 years…

So on that note, I wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy and healthy new year.

Much love,

IDROS

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September 29, 2013 · 7:49 pm

It’s Howdy Doody Time

I apologize for my recent hiatus. You all count on me for overly-long, trivial and generally self-serving posts on a regular basis, and for the past several months, I have let you, my faithful readers, friends and family down (most of you probably didn’t even notice…so there’s that).

But the good news is, I’m back. Back with what will certainly be my crappiest post yet.

You’ve all heard the term “back in a flash,” but after an absence that can only be categorized as literary constipation, I suppose you could say I am back in a “flush.”

The theme of this welcome back post, as you may have already guessed, is a topic I happen to know a thing or two about. And to celebrate the finale of one of my favorite television shows of all time (said show’s end-game inspired this disgusting entry, so thanks Vince Gilligan and Dean Norris and the great Walt Whitman), I am going to list some of the more memorable number twos in pop-culture history.

That’s right, you read correctly. In the immortal words of Taro Gomi in her children’s book read the world over, Everyone Poops. And for the purposes of this “made for the toilet” super-list, the more significant the poop, the higher (actually lower) on this list it will appear. As always, IDROS is not omniscient…there are bound to be omissions. Please, readers, add any that are glaring, or any that you feel are appropriately inappropriate.

20)   The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover – if this entry means nothing to you, ignore it. Trust me. There are a few people out there that know why this movie made the list, they know who they are, and all I can say is we should have gone to see I Love You to Death…or even Ernest Goes to Jail (both released the same weekend).

19) Summer School – Did the kid who went to the bathroom for the entire movie and still scored highest on the aptitude test play a significant role in Mr. Shoop’s classroom farce? No. Did he really spend an entire summer on the can? Probably not. In fact, he may not have gone to bathroom at all after absconding with the hall pass. But the sentiment was there.

18)   Me, Myself & Irene – In all fairness, Charlie repeatedly asked his neighbor not to let his dogs defecate on his lawn before resorting to this.

17)      Sixteen Candles – Did Grandpa Fred’s deuce have anything to do with the plot? No. Was the scene funny? Of course.

16)   Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery – Tom Arnold’s scene in the bathroom stall beside Austin (“Who does Number Two work for?”) was classic, but like the scene above, really had no effect on the plot;

15)   Jurassic Park – Not a bad idea to find a toilet in the middle of a prehistoric park when having the crap literally scared out of you, but when T-Rex comes a knockin’…well there are better ways to go.

14)   American Pie – Gotta’ love Finch and his issues with going in school bathrooms. We’ve all been there.

13)   South Park – Who doesn’t love Mr. Hankey?

12)   Along Came Polly – Two classically uncomfortable scenes, neither of which really had an impact on the plot. Stiller’s predicament in Aniston’s bathroom after spicy Ethiopian food was high comedy. Capote’s matter-of-fact statement that he just sharted and needed to leave was almost as good as his work in Lebowski.

11)   Speaking of uncomfortable, the unspeakable horrors of Trainspotting somehow got even worse in the scene to which you all know I am referring.

10)   Thank god for John Hughes. While Principal Vernon was duking it out in The Breakfast Club, Bender was telling a joke as he made his way back to the library through the air duct. We are getting closer here. This scene did allow the plot to advance toward its hokey RomCom ending from its teen angst roots.

9)   The Karate Kid – Daniel san’s costume inspired him to “shower” perennial 80’s cretin, William Zabka, aka “Sweep the Leg” Johnny Lawrence, whilst he took a crap at the Halloween dance. There were many scenes in this movie that required suspension of disbelief. A “cool” high school jock taking a crap at a dance in the school john may have taken the cake…but it definitely amped up the rivalry between John and Dan.

8)   The Help – I like to think Octavia Spencer’s secret pie recipe helped secure her Oscar.

7)   Bridesmaids – Nasty but effective scene by McCarthy and gals.

6)   Lethal Weapon 2 – The bad guys rigged a bomb to Murtaugh’s toilet, creating a scenario where Glover really was too old and too scared for this shit…hilarity ensued.

5)   Can’t Buy Me Love – Maybe the crap in the brown bag was dog poop. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, metaphorically, McDreamy took a crap on one-time bestie Kenneth Wurman’s house. But the way Donald, or Ronald, apologized at the end certainly merited an 80’s slow crap…er clap.

4)   Dumb and Dumber – The Farrelly brothers clearly know their way around potty humor. Seeing Will McAvoy pay the price for betraying Lloyd Christmas was both funny and satisfying.

3)   Seinfeld – Costanza, drawers around his ankles, clutching a newspaper, emerges from Jerry’s can screaming “Vandelay Industries” as Kramer botches his whole unemployment scam. Maybe not the best Seinfeld scene, but this clip is definitely in the top five.

2)   (Mild spoiler alert…if you haven’t watched any of the final season of Breaking Bad, do not read this) Look. We all know Hank’s discovery in Walter’s master bath can is the most significant pop-culture crap of all time. (There are memes, gifs and even a website dedicated to this). But in keeping with the theme, the best dump belongs at NUMBER TWO…duh.

1)   Second prize is no set of steak knives here. Vincent Vega’s poorly timed twosie in Pulp Fiction made things a little easier for Butch. Little did he know what awaited him in Zed’s dungeon moments later…but that’s for another list.

Whatchoo got kids?

As always, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy tonight’s grand finale. Hope Vince finishes this thing as well as he has executed this entire final season, and the four before it.

All the best,

IDROS

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February 6, 2013 · 5:22 pm

Bob Marley By The Numbers

Bob MarleyIn honor of Mr. Robert Nesta Marley’s 68th birthday, I thought a little numeric homage was in order. You know, for a man who rolled more numbers than the average Joe, if you catch my drift Mon.

So to the rescue, to the rescue, to the rescue
Awake from your sleep and slumber
Today could be your LUCKY NUMBER
Sun is shining and the weather is sweet – Bob Marley, Sun Is Shining, Soul Revolution, 1971

And the countdown begins…

2-6-45 – Nesta Robert Marley was born (Jamaican Passport official later swapped his first and middle name, telling Bob’s mother that Nesta sounded too much like a girl’s name, thus giving us Robert Nesta Marley)

9-23-80 – Bob’s final live concert at the Stanley Theater, Pittsburgh, PA

5-11-81 – Bob passed away due to cancer in Miami, FL

1,000,000,000 – And a BILLION men a sparking. Rastaman Live Up lyric, Confrontation, 1983

1,000,000 – MILLION miles from reality. So Much Trouble In the World lyric, Survival, 1979 (see also, Stand Alone lyrics)

10,000 – I see TEN THOUSAND chariots, and they coming without horses – Midnight Ravers lyric, Catch A Fire, 1973

2313 – 2313 Tetsnell Street, Wilmington, Delaware. In 1966, the day after marrying Rita (Alpharita), Bob split for the states, alone, where he lived at this Wilmington, DE address with his mother, and worked at a DuPont plant for nearly 7 months earning money to finance his music career

2,000 – TWO THOUSAND years of history could not be wiped away so easily – Zion Train lyric, Uprising, 1980

1994 – Bob was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. His induction speech was delivered by Bono. Jann Wenner had this to say:

Bob Marley was the Third World’s first pop superstar. He was the man who introduced the world to the mystic power of reggae. He was a true rocker at heart, and as a songwriter, he brought the lyrical force of Bob Dylan, the personal charisma of John Lennon, and the essential vocal stylings of Smokey Robinson into one voice.

1962 – Bob releases first single, Judge Not

400 – 400 Years. Song title, Catch A Fire, 1973, written by Peter Tosh

100 – We bubbling on the Top 100, just like a mighty dread…Roots, Rock, Reggae lyric, Rastaman Vibration, 1976

56 – 56 Hope Road, Kingston Jamaica – Former home of Bob Marley, and now the home of the Bob Marley Museum

34 – 34 Ridgemount Gardens, Camdentown, London, England. Bob’s London address in 1972.

17 – Shows Bob Marley and the Wailers were supposed to open for Sly and the Family Stone in a US tour in 1973 (See 4 below)

12 – Age Bob moved to Trenchtown

11 – Number of Bob’s children according to Wikipedia and BobMarley.com (from 7 different women) – some sites list 13 children, and others speculate Bob fathered as many as 20

9 – NINE Miles (St. Ann Parrish) – Area in Jamaica where Bob was born and grew up

7 – And I hear the angel with the SEVEN seals… Rastaman Chant lyric, Burnin’, 1973

5 – FIVE days to go, working for the next day…Work song lyric, Uprising, 1980

4 – Shows Bob actually played before being fired – FOR STEALING SLY’s THUNDER! (Fans were actually chanting MAAARRRRLLLLEEEYYY during Sly’s set, and in some cases, more fans were in their seats for the Wailers’ opener than for the headliner)

3 – THREE little Birds. Song Title, Exodus, 1977

The I-THREES (three back-up vocalist beauties, one of which was Rita Marley, who joined the group after Tosh and Bunny Wailer left the group in 1974)

2 – Three Crows on top TWO is laughin’. Mr. Brown song lyric, song originally written by Glen Adams and released as a single

1 – A few contenders here…

ONE Drop. Song Title, Survival, 1979.

ONE Heart. One Love song lyric, Exodus, 1977

ONE bright morning when my work is over, Man will fly away home.  Rastaman Chant lyric, Burnin’ 1973

ONE good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain. Trenchtown Rock lyric, African Herbsman, 1973

But ONE true Champion:

ONE love, Song Title, Exodus, 1977

…..

And a nugget for the road (pun intended). Bob drove a BMW once he started making some money…and why? He used to tell whoever would listen that the letters stood for Bob Marley and the Wailers. He later got rid of the Beemer though, saying it caused him nothin’ but trouble. He bought a jeep.

Thanks for reading. Watch the documentary, Marley, on Netflix, if you haven’t already. Heart wrenching at times. Particularly his pre-show rendition of I’m Hurting Inside, just before his final show in Pittsburgh.

IDROS

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December 11, 2012 · 3:28 pm

This Is 50…And Counting…Happy Golden Anniversary To Mick, Keef And The Rolling Stones

From Rolling Stone Magazine

From Rolling Stone Magazine

Lezbeonest. I don’t care what it is (or who, for that matter). Doing it (or him or her) for 50 years…in a row…is worthy of significant celebration. It is a rare feat, celebrating a 50th anniversary of any kind. And the half century the Rolling Stones have endured and bestowed upon us is no exception. In fact, it borders on incredible…the stuff of myth. I mean, the band had to overcome the incarceration of its two primary songwriters (in 1967, Mick and Keith were jailed for drug possession and shortly thereafter were released on bail), the “firing” and subsequent death (by drowning but due to drug abuse) of a founding member and close friend (Brian Jones), the resignation of another band mate and talented guitarist (Mick Taylor), the ubiquitous shadow of the Beatles the Stones were relegated to live in (the band was basically labeled the “evil” or dark yang to the Beatles light, angelic yin and were viewed as ruffians parents should never let their daughters date, a characterization these well-schooled middle class musicians took a few years to fully embrace), the unfortunate and horrifying experience that was Altamont (where unruly, drunk and drugged up Hell’s Angels provided “security” (read: incited a riot) while a fan was murdered by throngs of out of control concert-goers and the band feared for their own lives), a self exile to the South of France for financial reasons (mostly exorbitant back taxes owed), a massive heroin problem that enveloped some members of the band (notably Keith) as well as many important crew members, and finally, the imprisonment in Canada of Keith for heroin possession (he faced a lifetime sentence, but was released upon a vow to go straight)…and that was all in the first 15 years of the band’s existence. The subsequent 35 years were similarly rife with highs and lows, the worst of it stemming from a tumultuous and deteriorating relationship between Richards and Jagger, the de facto leaders of the band.

And yet here they are, fifty years later…mostly intact, and somehow still churning out the best soundtrack you are likely ever to hear at a Golden Anniversary party (not that there’s anything wrong with a one-man band’s rendition of In The Mood, The Way We Were, Unforgettable, I’ve Got The World On A String or any of Frank Sinatra’s great love ballads). So in anticipation of the American leg of the Stones 50 & Counting mini-tour, which will culminate with a Pay Per View-streamed performance on Saturday, December 15 at the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey, I felt it was high time to give the original bad boys of rock and roll their due. Having already dedicated a post to that other mega-success story of a band from England, the timing couldn’t be better to roll out the red carpet, and fittingly paint it black, for the only other band in history besides the Beatles that arguably deserves its own wing in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Sure, scoff all you want. Insert a joke or two here under your breath regarding said wing that evokes images of a nursing home…the wing should be in Florida; its snack bar should offer an early bird special; hope there’s round the clock medical staff on call. Blah, blah, blah. If you could throw down on stage like the Stones at any age, you would, and you know it.

While I agree that the Stones are old (arguing this fact would be as foolish as arguing that water is not wet), the band’s two stalwarts, both nearly 70 years of age, continue to defy the odds. Mick, who inspired a song regarding his moves, has the energy of a man fifty years his junior, and the waistline of an anorexic supermodel. And Keith…what can I say? What can anyone say really? He is a medical marvel that continues to mystify… with blatant disregard for logic and the laws of science.  (To get a taste, I do recommend his autobiography, Life, if you haven’t yet read it.) So perhaps it isn’t such a conundrum that these relics continue to bring it while on stage.

So in honor of the centuries of combined rock experience that is the Rolling Stones, I felt a list was in order. Lists are great because they demand thought, from both the writer and reader(s). There is always room for debate, particularly in a good, well-reasoned list, but generally the conversation is lively and worthwhile. And that is why we’re here, right?  At least it’s why I’m here. Tapping on the keys like Thelonius Monk in the wee hours of the morning, eyes bloodshot, head pounding, but thoughts racing…ahh. And the Stones are incredibly list-worthy. Exile on Main Street could be its own list. So could Let It Bleed. So in the spirit, of Rob Gordon from High Fidelity, from whom music-themed lists seemed to flow like cheap beer at a frat party, we begin.

My top ten Stones tunes of all time (at least for today):

10) I had a hell of a time choosing among Miss You, Emotional Rescue and Salt Of The Earth, but for the sake of a clean list, I am going with Emotional Rescue. Perhaps my list would be different on any other day. I dig the disco influence. And the tune is catchy as hell. This is not your typical Stones song, but that doesn’t make it a bad song.

9) Sweet Virginia. Raw, gritty and heartfelt. This will not be the lone gem from Exile to crack my top ten, but a great tune in its own right.

8) As Tears Go By. An oldie but goodie. Penned by the Jagger/Richards dynamic duo, this classic was first recorded and released by Marianne Faithful in 1964, and then by the Stones a year later. Just a beautiful song, emotional and powerful despite the restraint that was a trademark of that era. I would put this tune up against almost any from the mid-60s, and it holds up well, even today.

7) Loving Cup. Just give me little drink. Please.

6) Shine A Light. Wow. Just Wow. Maybe this one should be higher on the list (probably), but the bottom line is, it needs to be on the list. Such a powerful message. Marty Scorsese named his 2008 Stones documentary after this tune, and we all know what Marty thinks of the Stones.

5) Gimme Shelter. That creaky floorboard percussion effect is eerie as hell. And speaking of Marty Scorsese, we all must thank him for recognizing the genius in the Stones in this tune, and for marrying its theme to your own particular genius (Scorsese used this song in 3 of his films…thus far). Violence and war is everywhere; not just on the battlefield, but on the mean streets of every city across the world.

4) You Can’t Always Get What You Want. Can’t help but think of The Big Chill opening here, but the message is clear and pure, and the melody is perfection personified. Interestingly, it seems Brett Morgen, the director of the most recent Stones documentary, Crossfire Hurricane, drew inspiration from Lawrence Kasdan as he used this song during his own post-death funeral procession music to honor Brian Jones’ passing.

3) Sympathy For The Devil. Perfection in capturing and breathing life into a theme by overlaying incredible lyrics on transcendent music. Timeless.

2) Waiting On A Friend. Profound emotional ballad capturing man’s need for companionship after his wild oats have been sown.

1) Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’? Here’s the thing…I love music. And even before this tune kicked off the great mini-mix on my iPod shuffle that ushered in the greatest day of my life, it would have topped this list. The meaning behind the song is murky, like the drug-addled paranoia some of the lyrics evoke. But if your ears could smile, this song could have that effect on them, from start to finish. The jam toward the end of that track is so incredible it has moved me to tears on numerous occasions. Everything was clicking there, from Keys’ blistering sax solo to Richards’ guitar. And then Mick Taylor steals the show with a completely improvised virtuoso performance lasting nearly 4 minutes to end the song. There are hints and influences of numerous other great musicians and musical genres intertwined in the rich, mellifluous orgy of musical delights. To quote Richards, “the band’s music was influenced by everyone from Mozart to Marley.” That is clearly evident in this song alone, a virtual microcosm of the Rolling Stones vast and impressive oeuvre. And make no mistake, Charlie gets the last “word,” which is quite fitting for a tune titled “Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’?”

So that’s my list. Hope nobody was offended by my selections. I would love to hear some of yours, so feel free to share below.

As always, thanks for reading.

Happy holidays,

IDROS

Oh, and for another blogger’s take on the same subject matter, feel free to click here.

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October 11, 2012 · 5:20 pm

Everyone’s A Critic: The Advantages of Being A Product of the 80s

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I’ve been meaning to work a Movie Review segment into this blog for some time now, but really haven’t found the right moment (or movie, for that matter) to kick it off.

Well move over bacon…it’s SizzleLean. Um, I mean, welcome to “Everyone’s a Critic,” a forum in which I take my zero years of film review experience, zero combined classroom hours of film study and zero authority on anything related to cinema, directing, acting, producing or editing, and aim them, concurrently, at some unsuspecting cinematic production just like Peter, Ray, Egon (and Winston) targeted all things phantasmagorical with their proton packs. So with apologies to the likes of Gene Siskel (RIP), Roger Ebert, Anthony Lane, David Edelstein and their ilk…

After graduating college, my roommate and I kept Leonard Maltin’s Movie Encyclopedia on our coffee table as a reference while we watched movies and television. We would eagerly thumb through this cumbersome tome whenever we came across any actor or movie that triggered a “have to know and won’t be able to fall asleep tonight if I don’t” moment in either one of us, which occurred at least once a day. This burden was thrust upon us, by the way, because our cohabitation took place in a time just before Al Gore unveiled the Internet (actually, that’s not really accurate, but it was before IMDb, Wikipedia and other Internet sources for all sorts of cinematic arcana were available, if you can wrap your mind around that).

Said roommate was (and still is) a huge film buff.  He would likely list Scorsese, Spielberg and John Hughes among his heroes. He did attend film school, logged hours of classroom credits in all things cinema, and secretly wished (perhaps still wishes) something akin to the plot of The Freshman occurred to him while innocently going about his own NYU curriculum.

I hereby dedicate this first installment of “Everyone’s A Critic” to that roommate and lifelong friend, who is currently on his Honeymoon after a literal storybook wedding. Congratulations to him and his beautiful bride.

Friendships we make during our adolescence can be powerful. And now I can’t help but think of Mrs. Smith in Better Off Dead grabbing poor Monique’s face as she says: “Friend. You know, Friend?” (I really wanted to attach this clip here for reference, and was shocked to find that in the entirety of the Interweb, nobody has uploaded this treasure.  I mean, Laura Waterbury is priceless in this film playing Dennis Blunden’s, er, I mean Ricky Smith’s mother…but all I could find were her “Christmas” and “International Language” clips. If any of you can find the “Friend” clip, please let me know or post in the comments section). But, as usual, I digress.

We share our most awkward and fragile times in our lives with our middle and high school friends, and often rely on them as sounding boards, confidantes, comic relief, and vital companions as we fight tooth and nail to find our way in a world that can be cruel, confusing and overwhelming at times. I think Richard Dreyfuss’ adult version of Gordie LaChance said it best in Stand By Me: “I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?”

With that in mind, it brings me joy to announce The Perks of Being a Wallflower as the first movie I will review. After John Hughes passed on (actually, after he inexplicably stopped making movies about teen angst), my generation has been craving a good coming of age cinematic storyteller. Sure, there have been some valiant efforts over the years to fill Hughes shoes: Can’t Hardly Wait, American Pie, Donnie Darko, Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist, Juno, Superbad, etc. But despite some brilliant one-off efforts, there is a gold standard when mining the high school experience for cinematic exuberance, and in the mid 1980s, John Hughes set it…over and over again. (Sidebar: Cameron Crowe, with a distinguished oeuvre that includes Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Say Anything, as well as Almost Famous, which does focus on teen angst and insecurity as a primary theme, certainly has earned a reserved seat at this exclusive table).

Stephen Chbosky adapted his own highly acclaimed novel for the big screen. His tale is ambitious. Perhaps too ambitious in tackling a seemingly large number of issues that plague modern youth, and if I had any complaint at all regarding this film, it would be rooted in that over-zealous ambition.

That said, the story works and the acting is far beyond any expectations one could have for a film comprised of characters primarily in their mid to late teens.  In fact, some of the performances are brilliant. Even the cameos and bit parts played by familiar “adult” actors add welcome, innocuous accompaniment to the stellar cast.

Some will argue this film (and the book it is based upon) offers characters and plot resolutions that are too good or too neat for the powerful and ugly (at times) storylines that are explored. My answer to that is people are jaded. You can’t accept the hokey tabletop birthday cake scene with Jake Ryan and Sam Baker at the end of Sixteen Candles (or Farmer Ted waking up in a Rolls Royce with the prom queen for that matter) without a desire for a neat, Hollywood ending. That’s what audiences want. That is why Claire can kiss John Bender and wrap her giant diamond earring in his hand as the credits roll, and why Ferris successfully eludes Rooney and his parents. It is why we not only accept Lloyd Dobler getting on that plane with Diane Court, we expect it.

Sure, perhaps elements of Charlie’s relationship with his new friends, and with Sam in particular, seem forced and unlikely at times. But we want things to work out favorably for Charlie…and for Sam and Patrick. We enjoy seeing Paul Rudd as a friendly, inspirational role model for our protagonist despite every cliché and tired action his character is seemingly forced into by the script (his performance is strong nonetheless, and his character has perhaps the best non-comedic line of the entire film). Like with Noah Wyle and Drew Barrymore in Donnie Darko, we really don’t care how ridiculous or forced their dialogue may be – we just respect them for finding a worthy script and joining the cast of a special film, even if it is a small role outside their comfort zone.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower has its warts, just as all adolescent students have theirs. However, the script is witty, unique and at times, moving. The characters are likable and generally plausible. And the music, as with any teen angst movie worth watching, is terrific.

Because I was a senior in high school myself when this film takes place, the soundtrack certainly resonates with me (and likely my contemporaries) even more. Music plays a huge part in our formative years, often setting the mood for how we interpret, participate and adapt to the world around us. You can actually witness and feel the impact music has on the characters in this film, at times cringing in disbelief and at times smiling and nodding and tapping your feet as appropriate lyrics and emotionally relevant melodies envelop us along with our on-screen companions.

As previously conceded, my resume fails to empower me as an expert authority, or even an amateur wannabe, on anything film-related. So please bear with me as I briefly discuss the cinematography. I thought it was great. Scenes flowed together effortlessly, and crafty dialog and cut-aways allowed our imagination to create some of the film’s more graphic, unpleasant and violent scenes and images in our heads rather than on screen. The director even used some creative filming and editing techniques to seamlessly fade unrelated images into one another as scenes began and ended, as well as intelligently used music lyrics to help tell his story or to reinforce images and themes.

My favorite element of TPOBAW was its focus on friendship, and how important friends can be to our survival during our adolescence and while navigating the pitfalls of high school. And there are many such pitfalls: from parental pressure to hormonal changes, from our first job to dating woes, from sexual experimentation to maintaining our eligibility for athletics, from college prep to our first car, from fitting in to finding a date for the prom, from cigarettes, alcohol and drugs to problems at home, from peer pressure to acne, for most, high school is fraught with horrifying potential.

At the base of this film’s plot is a story of friendship, and how it profoundly affects the trajectory of the primary characters’ lives. Despite what the overwhelming majority of Hollywood’s teen movie genre may indicate, high school stories center on much more than the jocks and cheerleaders, than the popular kids. Every one of us lived through high school and have become who we are today from the unique experience we had during those crucial years. John Hughes knew this, and gave us a balanced account in most of his films. Judd Apatow and Paul Feig also knew this as they delivered their masterpiece, the television drama Freaks and Geeks, which unfortunately was axed after only one brilliant season, far too early.

Bottom line, Chbosky put forth a worthy effort in exploring teen angst; and considering he had to edit, and in some ways, compromise his own novel to do so makes it even more admirable. J.D. Salinger, the undisputed master of teen angst prose, never breathed cinematic life into his opus. I am in no way drawing a comparison to The Catcher In The Rye here for TPOBAW, though I would not be the first to do so (click this amazing piece and this book review for a sampling). I am saying that Chbosky tells a poignant and powerful tale of teen life in early 1990s Pittsburgh that resonates today with people of all ages, of all geographies, males, females, gay and straight, and that is an accomplishment worthy of praise.

Tying in with the theme of TPOBAW, I attended my aforementioned roommate’s (and lifelong friend’s) wedding this past weekend. Many of our high school friends were there. It was so incredible to celebrate with all of them, to relive our youth and also fill in the gaps of life since high school for those we don’t see or speak to as regularly anymore. Reuniting with my own companions and support system, my friends, who made my high school years manageable, memorable, and fortunately for me, four generally fun and carefree years in my life, was incredible, but also bittersweet.

Why, you might ask? Well I keep hearing Dreyfuss’ voice echoing in my head. No, we never do have friends like we do during our adolescence. A lot of this certainly has to do with nostalgia for our own youth and innocence. Maybe all of it does. Even if we are lucky enough to retain those friends from our youth, life changes. We don’t see these people every day like we used to. We don’t have the free time we used to. We may not even live in the same state or country as these people.

But those friends we make in high school are not diminished by our changing lives. Whether they remain our closest friends or have drifted away, their importance at the crossroads of our personal development dictates that they remain part of us forever, woven into the fabric of our very essence.

And those are the Perks of being part of whatever group of friends you happened to make and fall in with in high school. They are meaningful and profound, and if you are lucky, they are eternal.

I thank you all for reading and for your friendship. It was great to reminisce with those of you I saw in New York.

IDROS

Everyone’s A Critic Grade:   The Perks of Being a Wallflower –  A    94/100  “EAC It” (Yes, I decided I needed a hokey tagline)

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