Please visit Morris Kight

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Thursday, October 22, 2009

Lead Paint and No Bicycle Helmet...

and Soupy Sales are some of my favorite childhood memories. Soupy's pie throwing antics, puppets White Fang and Black Tooth... well, this was anti-Captain Kangaroo elitist after-school tv humor. You had to be a bit of an existentialist to get and appreciate Soupy- or a future substance abuser. None of us kids in my house dared to go into mom's wallet and send Soupy the pieces of green paper with pictures of presidents. We knew how scarce those pieces of green paper were to mom. Yet we waited all week to find out how many other kids did send him dollars. And they did. Soupy Punked the nation. Soupy had juice before there was juice. Soupy was anti-reality tv. For years, whenever in a pickle and needing to make a serious decision, I'd ask myself, what would Soupy do? And then I'd remember "be true to your teeth and they won't be false to you," which I see as "at least try." Soupy had pull. Soupy would only do it his way. Soupy had his time in the light. He was the first one I remember who gave me a new way of seeing the world. He was Kierkegaard for kids. Thanks Soupy. Rest wherever the hell it is that you want to rest.

When did Alice Cooper ever do a 52 week tour?

Years and years later, like maybe a hundred years later, and about three thousand miles away, I met Soupy's sons Tony and later Hunt Sales. Great musicians, played with Bowie on tour and in recording. I never had the nerve (or gall) to ask what kind of advise Soupy gave to them.

If you remember Soupy or if you've never heard of Soupy, you'll enjoy this tribute to our old pie throwing clown slash friend.

And bringing it back to me- I really hope this blog blog blog doesn't turn into a series of obits obits obits. Take care of yourselves, wear your helmet, watch out for asbestos and lead, and... and... and... go ahead throw a pie for a chrissakes, you know you want to.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Your name is on the list at the Pearly Gates, Brendan

They should let you right in.

Not just any punk impresario, Brendan Mullen was The LA Punk scene.

Musicians couldn't break a guitar string in this town without Brendan knowing about it. I wasn't, and I still am not, a musician. I had the lovely pleasure to call Brendan a friend. He was LA family. In LA, all the disenfranchised folks find each other and create what we need and many times, we recreated what we were trying to get away from. Brendan, for me, was a sweet mixture of both and I believe he would say the same about me. I've known Brendan for close to thirty years and I am so moved to see the outpouring of love from everyone who knew him. The genuine caring this man put into his life's work- promoting the best of Los Angeles music and bringing us the best the rest of the world had to offer was always peppered with his salty brogue and dry wit. The blue eyes twinkled in the dark smokey clubs and his ears were perked to what was happening on stage. He prevailed the victor in many of his battles with personal demons. He was smart enough to recognize the authentic love in Kateria and he made the decision to deal head on with his Lothario ways. He never owned a home, but he always had a place for a friend to stay. He wasn't a comedian but I always laughed when I was with him.

He also had an excellent reputation as an A-1 DJ. His eclectic musical tastes guaranteed that he had more than just a little something for everyone. When he wasn't spinning disks at a party, he was the life of the party. A renowned raconteur, he was a bit of rascal and could kick some dust between folks just out of boredom.

Brendan was loved by so many. He loved so many. My life is richer for having been one of those people.

We must be the stupidest nation on earth

Or we are just a bunch of Lemmings following every rat the news agency throw at us?

While the media hypnotized the nation with Boy Flies Away crap-

We missed talking about Obama visiting the aching New Orleans for the first time as president. There was a nice big bowl of gumbo waiting for the Commander in Chief. He didn't leave too much behind but a lot nicely put together words and some more of that hope he likes to pass around.

If you don't think that's a big deal- ask Arianna HuffPoington

Arianna got preempted by Balloon Boy on the Ed Shultz Show.

Ed should know better than that.

Regardless of this possibly being a tragic story, or even a hoax, can we please get off the sensationalism for the sake of any car chase or in this instance, the military chasing down a silver balloon! Keep that stuff to yourselves until you've sorted it out, thank you.

Oh, that felt good. Another quiet outrage finally exorcised before dinner.