Month: January 2010 (Page 1 of 2)

“Darkness.” That was my immediate response to a friend’s inquiry years ago regarding what Bruce record to start with. It was a no brainer really since I was living there in self-imposed exile. Bruce was a pretty pissed off dude after fighting with his label for nearly 3 years after “Born to Run” and that anger spewed out from the opening of “Badlands,” and the theme of “paying the price” for what you want in this life lives in every black groove of that vinyl right through to the title track. Two or three of these songs would make a career for a successful musician, but this guy exorcised quite a bit in 3 years and came up with ten.

Side one
1. “Badlands”
2. “Adam Raised a Cain”
3. “Something in the Night”
4. “Candy’s Room”
5. “Racing in the Street”

Side two
1. “The Promised Land”
2. “Factory”
3. “Streets of Fire”
4. “Prove It All Night”
5. “Darkness on the Edge of Town”

It took me a little longer than 3 years, and ironically during it, some musicians fought with my label (One was always Angry), but I managed to leave that behind, pay the price (we had debts…) and slowly crawl out of the darkness. Well, it wasn’t always dark, but friend Jeff did literally help me move back from the edge of town. Since then, a new dawn slowly emerged with a little help from my friends, culminating under a blazing desert sun and the bright heart of a dear friend.

I still embrace the dark, but everybody needs some light and I’m finding there’s still quite a bit of growing to do in it…

[Facebookers see blog for video…]

Driving to Tucson, Arizona was an annual August trek for Dillard and I back in the late 70’s. We had a medium-sized cassette tape case with a couple dozen rock assortments. One that got heavy, heavy airplay, especially on those long, hot, desolate and damn straight stretches was AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell.” The album was released in the States by Atlantic Records, but it should have come out on Epic, because that’s what it is.

On Amazon.com, rock critic David Cantwell writes, “What Highway to Hell has that Back in Black doesn’t is Bon Scott…” That’s it. Bon Scott. Bon had a voice like an arc welder and it cut through the heavy metal coming out of the guitars brothers Angus and Malcolm were grinding. The record is amazing, and it kicked off several years of rock enjoyment, including a stint as “Air Bon” with the Gonnella boys air guitaring the roof off the old Dooley’s club in Tucson.

Now I wrote about that night, but did not provide any photographic evidence of the performance. Well, tonight… I’m not going to either. I know some snapshots of that first show exist (I think “Angus” may have them), but what I do have are a couple publicity photos from our second show with body art care of Kraker’s sister Nancy. Since I’m very guilty of using “stuff” I’ve found on Facebook in Powerpoint presentations and other public medium, it is risky to “out” these photos, but let’s face it, there’s a certain “attention whore” aspect to blogging, so obviously I just don’t care, but I hope Dillard will comment and explain the “Rocky Horror” makeup that I clearly passed on…

We had a freakin’ blast rocking out and had no, none, nada, zippo inhibitions being up on stage looking like idiots “air” rocking. We were totally into it and the crowd reactions told us it worked. The music drove us… along with the attention thing. Primal music like this…

I believe the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, and the dinner menu I prepared was a perfectly designed express lane with equal parts of my guests 3 key C’s: Cosmos, Carbs and Chocolate. I opened impressively with a Caprese salad appetizer, with mozzarella balls speared on toothpicks with cherry tomatoes, basil, and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Good start, right? A small loaf of fresh French bread soaked up the glistening liquids remaining after the disappearing act on red and white orbs. A Chicken Mushroom Risotto was reducing its way toward completion, and “French Cosmopolitans” with fresh squeezed lime, Grey Goose, Grand Marnier and fresh Acai juice provided ample anti-oxidants and wider smiles. The rice concoction was good, not great, but risotto dishes are always experimental for me, so next time I’ll employ the lessons learned. Unfortunately a few more painful lessons still lay ahead…

After going three for three, a pretty good “night at the plate,” if you know what I’m saying, the dark chocolate fondue was going to be a home run… Touch ‘em all, pal! Well, um, as my guest noted, making desserts is very much about chemistry and when I missed one little detail, our chemistry cooled like liquid nitrogen. Oh, not really. She did scoff a few pieces of fresh fruit dipped in the clumpy, oily mess, but it was just gross. My mojo damaged by the limp dip, I panicked and made another round of cosmo’s before we got comfortable and searched for a movie. Since I couldn’t find “Crazy Heart” or “The Wrestler,” our search became less focused and I calculated that my Cosmo plied friend would quickly lose interest in “Spinal Tap,” leaving me as her only option…

About ten minutes into the classic rock mocumentary, I sensed my plan was working as she turned toward me and purred, “If you wanted to pick a movie I’d lose interest in, you succeeded.” “YES! That’s right, I’m the man!” I thought… Wanting to play it cool, I continued chuckling at the ridiculous lines of the film, and laughed out loud at Nigel Tufnel’s classic rock god line, “We’ve got Armadillos in our trousers. It’s really quite frightening.” It was at that point I was the one horrified as I discovered there actually was another option for my dinner date besides me, and that was a very sound sleep! Yep, she was resting quite beautifully and I didn’t have the heart to wake her, although there was a strong argument made by another participant in my self-conversation. Yeah, it was a classic angel/devil on each shoulder confrontation. While those two argued, I tried to focus on the movie, but it just wasn’t as funny anymore.

So, as a public service, I offer you guys out there the following tips for a successful romantic dinner. Actually, “go to a nice restaurant” may be the only tip you need, but if you’re going to try the culinary bad arts thing:

• Reading recipes before consuming cosmos is a good idea.
• When making a chocolate fondue, “remove from heat once the heavy cream reaches a boil…”
• Cosmopolitans kick ass, so if you do screw up the fondue, don’t panic and make more drinks. Serve ice water instead.
• Trying to “play it cool” will often result in you playing by yourself. When she turns on toward you, it’s time to turn Nigel off.

I caught that little gem as another episode of PBS’s “This Emotional Life” was winding down last night. It’s so true for many of us, but not always easy to engage depending on the cosmic plane we happen to exist at any given moment…

My cosmic plane at the moment resembles this groovy baby and any regular contributor or lurker of this space knows how I landed it… Arizona… Mayor of Anthem… People…

Speaking of emotion, I nearly experienced the splashy version last night after speaking with my Dad. It was the strangest and best phone call we’ve ever had and he made it. My usually stoic father was engaging, joking and happy. I asked if he had new meds… “No.” “Smoking pot?” “Well, I smoked some last week…” (followed by laughter) “You got a new blue-haired girlfriend?” (Dad laughing) “You son of a bitch…” It was so cool. The call lacked the usual update on sugar levels, water pills and cataracts, and instead focused on his experiences with friends… “Dickie Greene was raving about how I hit ‘em today!”

The old man was on a roll and peppered me with inquiries about my brothers, mother, Maddy, Megan, Kyle and Joyce… WTF? Who is this guy? Just for a day anyway, it seems this guy Dad is a happy human. Experiencing that moved my cosmic emotional plane into even more rarified airspace.

This really isn’t what President Obama had in mind to celebrate one year in office today, but if he’s searching for answers why Scott Brown won last night, he can find it in front of him when he’s shaving this morning.

“Are you bummed out and writing an angry political blog?” I didn’t read this text message until I awoke to a replay of Scott Brow’s victory speech around 4:30AM. No, my dear, I’m not angry.

In my heart, I knew this thing was over last week when that Suffolk poll came out, and I wrote about my own discontent with the timid stance of my President toward the banks who own us. I believe that’s the main issue here. According to an election day Rasmussen poll, approximately 20% of Democrats voted for Brown. They provided the margin of victory and their votes were not a referendum on health care, they were an expression of frustration that their President and his Democratic majority in Congress have not fought for them.

Most importantly though, Senator-Elect Brown won a majority of middle class voters. In my own very middle-class Fitchburg-Leominster area, the numbers were a crushing 59%/40% and 63%/36% respectively in favor of the winner. Those disaffected voters, in my opinion, would benefit from health care reform, but always seem to get screwed no matter what party is in power. They’ve had enough.

The Obama White House and national Democratic squawks are blaming the Coakley campaign and their candidate. She was weak and ran like she was entitled to the seat, but is there any doubt who would be the winner this morning if the “other” Joe Kennedy had run?
Firing back at their national critics, Coakley pollster Celinda Lake contends their campaign was “hampered by the failure of the White House and Congress to confront Wall Street.” I agree.

Ms Lake continued, “If Scott Brown wins tonight he’ll win because he became the change-oriented candidate. Voters are still voting for the change they voted for in 2008, but they want to see it. And right now they think they’ve got economic policies for Washington that are delivering more for banks than Main Street.”

I hope my president stops the bleeding of this little nick by leading and actually delivering the change he promised. If he doesn’t, the blue blood will really run in November.

I meant to post about the Joe Pernice show last week, but you know, life happens and I don’t have infinite hours to write this nonsense. I found myself having dinner with two of my favorite women in the world, one just released from Typhoid quarantine and the other a refugee flood victim. The pair seemed to be having a good time when suddenly both of them attempted to dump me simultaneously. After some guilt-inducing banter, Barb decided to stay for the show. (See us in the back corner?) I don’t think she was sorry.

Joe Pernice is a poet with a voice and a skill for arrangement that can make a song about napalming a village of little girls and bunny rabbits sound beautiful. (Note: Joe doesn’t have such a song.) I had forgotten about my Ray Neades post a few weeks ago when Joe mentioned Ray and played my highlight of the night, “Grudge Fuck” in his honor. Again, the title sounds pretty horrible, but it’s actually a beautiful song, albeit a “little stalkerish.”

One weird thing was a very loud request for a song off the Pernice Brothers 1998 debut “Overcome By Happiness.” Joe chuckled at the request and then launched into about 30 seconds of just nailing it, before suddenly stopping and saying, “That’s it. That’s all your getting.” I guess maybe the woman with a drink in her hand didn’t die in the garage this time.

Three points from the ‘boyz? Three? That’s pathetic, but I love seeing “America’s Team” spit the cow chip as much as most fans enjoy our “pretty boy” Tom Brady and the rest of Bill Belichick’s “cheaters” lose. Minnesota should really enjoy this win because that loud, dome-field advantage they fed on today will be in New Orleans next week and I expect the Saints will be marching all over Brett Fahv-re’s #4…

In the AFC, the J-E-T-S have been impressive, but doesn’t San Diego always find a way to lose at this time of year… at home… as favorites? Indy lucked out playing a Baltimore team who smashed their emotional piggy bank last week with a complete ass thrashing of the Patriots “value” players. With Peyton Manning and the home field, I fully expect the Colts to pass (a lot) Go on their way to Miami.

Still…

What haunts me is the dream scenario for many Yankee fans and CBS, who can play up the aforementioned Mr. Fahf-RE playing against the team he quit on last year, New Jersey’s JV squad, the Jets. It will be unbearable… Two weeks of Favre-Jets… Ugh.

I’m a liberal and I’m considering voting for Republican Scott Brown in Tuesday’s critical Senatorial election in Massachusetts. A news report today in the Boston Herald cites a new Suffolk University poll indicating, “an astonishing 17 percent of Democrats report they’re jumping ship for Brown.” Suffolk pollster David Paleologos suggests that’s because of “Coakley’s laser-focus on hard-core Dems, potentially at the exclusion of other Democrats whom she needed to win over.”

I disagree. I’m pissed off at the weak-assed performance of my President and his Democratic majority in Congress. They’ve let a minority of tough Republican (and conservative Democrats) oppositionists obliterate their primary legislative agenda: Healthcare. The current, watered down Senate bill sucks and I’m apathetic about its passage. The agent of “Change” I financed and voted for moved so far right after Election Day I haven’t had the chance to enjoy George Bush’s retirement. Yeah, Dubya’s gone, but many of his policies remain and Barack Obama and the Democrats haven’t shown the stomach to fight for the priorities that got them into office:

• The wars? – Still going strong. Not wanting to appear weak on “terror,” they’re funding and “surging” in the Bush-Cheney unwinnable conflicts.
• Healthcare? – Healthcare stocks are up double-digits since the Senate bill passed without a public option.
• Wall Street Greed? – Insiders like Geithner and Summers dominate Obama’s team and Barney Frank’s House Banking Committee “reforms” has gums, not teeth.

I have to give credit to the Republicans. After getting their asses handed to them in November of ’08, they’ve dug in to defend their assets… big corporations. It’s so ironic that they can still successfully sell that bullshit Reagan “Big Gubment” nonsense (the exception of course being when the big government is a fiery fucking war machine), but have no problem with our asses being owned by big defense contractors, banks and insurance companies. The left just isn’t willing to fight as hard for “the people” and “fairness,” especially when campaign contributions from the same corporate masters drains their gumption, leaving them pale and lifeless.

So while the right fights, the left acquiesces. When Bush and a smaller majority than the Democrats currently have wanted his tax cuts for the rich passed in ’01 and ’03, they used a legislative “reconciliation” procedure to get it done with a simple majority, not the 60 votes the milquetoast (see: Harry Reid) Democrats have been ass-kissing and compromising to get. The Republicans don’t give a fuck if you like them. They’re Al Davis’s Raiders before they totally sucked: “Just win, baby.”

And could Massachusetts Democrats have run a less compelling candidate than Martha Coakley? Jesus, she’s like a female Walter Mondale.

It’s such bullshit. I was so fired up going into the presidential election and elated at the “mandate” the blue numbers that November night meant. Since then the Donkey’s been bitch-slapped by a feisty minority Elephant and will pay for that weakness in this year’s elections. In my opinion it’s because they have gutlessly moved right to appease the phony “teabagger” protesters, Dick Cheney and Rush Limbaugh.

So Mr. President, you want to govern from the center and sustain Dubya’s policies after we on the left put you in office? How ‘bout I vote to send Scott Brown to help you out?

I won’t do it, but I’m sure not too happy to stop “giving a shit” about all of this.

This was a good day that a family experienced during Spring 40 years ago.

I’m guessing I was 11, as the Braves were my team in minor league. I assume there was a game earlier in the day, but I was so obsessed with the sport there may not have been one. I either liked being seen in public as a “baseball player” or the feel of scratchy wool against my skin. I report. You decide.

Corey, the blond would be 5 and Kevin about 7. There’s another picture in this set including my mom and dad, but it’s not handy, so we’ll just go with the Daley boys. Just a couple months’ later, mom and dad stopped sharing Polaroid frames and every other aspect of life except us.

The family fracture affected all of us differently, but I fared OK mostly due to my surrogate parents, Tony and Barbara Gonnella. Yeah, my best friend’s parents took me in and I always felt part of a true nuclear family, an Italian family at that! Tony was the ultimate sports dad and was always at our games. Mrs. G. was always just there and I could always talk to her. And she was beautiful. Still is at… um, well… now. My buddy Mike took a whole lot of ribbing from our buddies in those years about his hot mom, but I never said a word. As a teenager essentially squatting in that house, she was like my 2nd mom and while her beauty was not lost on me, I respected her and my best friend. Still, I think that image of her as a woman in her 30’s burned an ideal in my malleable mind. There was no “Gonnella sister” and it took a couple decades before I met a woman from that mold. I wasn’t consciously looking for her, but when she appeared I was regressed to a babbling teenager.

I didn’t fully realize the mold thing until recently as I’ve been asking myself questions and cleaning out compartments in my mind for answers. Of course, being a person of significant depth (I am laughing too…), I fully appreciate there are more important things than physical attractiveness, and in a future post I’ll hopefully have learned what some of those are… Actually, as I begrudgingly matured, high intelligence became a demand, and I’ve never been truly happy with a woman that lacked it. That’s especially true now that the kid in the wool uniform is 51. When the physical thing is measured with a stopwatch and excess of that can cause joint displacement and other ailments, you’d better be interesting the other 23:58:30 a day.

Anyway, I’m not sure how this post got here, but lunch or dinner with my two moms has to happen soon. I wonder if the long lost Gonnella sister will join us.

“Jane, you ignorant slut.” Sorry, but the post title just brought me back… It also reminds me of the 1978 Stones appearance on SNL when they kinda sucked playing “Some Girls” material and drove commentary like, “I like the old Stones.” Anyway…

Currently “Kiss the Girl,” a big musical number from 1989’s “The Little Mermaid” is featured on the HDTV. The reason I bring this up is that in spite of her impressive shells, Ariel doesn’t really do it for me in the animated female realm. Yeah, Jessica Rabbit seems drawn for men by men, but for me, Pocahontas is still Number 1 with a bullet. I have to say though, this weekend I was impressed with the CGI hotness of Avatar’s Neytiri… Yes, I’m thinking and writing about animated female characters. What can I say, it was a long weekend.

I also received a few compliments on my writing this weekend, which is always nice to hear, or in this case, read. “I love your blog” was one, followed by an odd comment, since it was left today on a 2007 post: “Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!” Personally, I was hoping for some positive reinforcement for my recent line, “Hearing a woman moan or scream “Oh, God” repeatedly in a Meg Ryan sequence isn’t a reason to believe, but it is solid word of mouth advertising.” I thought it was pretty funny.

In my non-virtual world, today featured a visit from daughter Jessica, her fiancé Jack, plus grandchildren Mackenzie, 8, and Cameron, 10 months. It was nice to see them. Jessica seems to be doing a good job with them, and Jack, I learned, just received a 4.0 in school with perfect attendance. He’s a gentle soul, and his resemblance to my father’s late brother blew my freakin’ mind. I have to get some pictures from my dad of my uncle in his early 20’s. Based on my recollection, Jack is a damn avatar of my uncle as a kid. Man…

Finally, I’ve been battling 1’s and 0’s in the form of two database tables this weekend. Here’s a tech tip: Access lacks the ROUNDUP of Excel and that really bummed me out.

Oh, two more things… I don’t know where the hell the Patriots were, but there was a playoff game today in Foxborough and only the Baltimore Ravens showed up. The dismal effort, coupled with a comatose post game Bill Belichick press conference lead me to believe there are serious morale problems on that team and the off-season will bring significant changes, including in the management ranks.

Ah, never mind the second thing.