So Vivid The Memories

Ugly Bobby, while one of my favorite bloggers, is no writer. He's a complete hack, whacking and flaying away at the keyboard like a teenager learning electric guitar. Except Bob Lefsetz is no teenager. He knows a lot of stuff by now.

Scary part is he remembers everything and wants to tell us all about it. In doing so he stumbles kinda badly, yet serviceably, on the poetic here, reminiscing about record stores, The Kinks and how music changes the entire direction of one's life - for the purist, rendering us, the hardcore believers (OK, the "purists" if you will, although I hate that simplistic word, just as I hate the "elixir" word, and "dollop" and I diverge...) unable to be anything other than what we are... folks forever outside the norm and condemned to hang, always, out there on the long tail of society. I know what you're telling us here, Bobby Dear. Been there. Done that. Still at it.

Bobby talks The Kinks and real love here:

You're driving down the boulevard. Maybe with the sunroof open. Maybe stuck in traffic.

And you hear a song that reminds you of her. Or him.

All the memories come flowing back. It's almost as if they're riding shotgun. But they're long gone. So why are the memories so VIVID?

"I took her back to my bachelor flat
While the stereo played for two
She unwrapped her gift
And played me a riff
And said, 'this old record was just made for you'"

You had to find a girlfriend who got it. Who understood the music.

If you didn't, you were lost.

She didn't need to know it when you got involved, it helped if she was an expert, but she had to agree to get infected, to become diseased. She had to like sitting on the couch in the waning light of the day as the sound poured out of the JBL L100's or Advents or KLH's along the living room wall.

"Then we danced to songs of passion and The singer's velvet tones On the gramophone While the record played She rocks me to the bone Knocks me to the bone"

The music was an elixir. Upon consumption it loosened not only lips but personalities. It lubricated interaction.

"In my back room there's an old 45
That we played all summer long
Shakin' the beams so loud it covered up the screams When lover's harmony went oh so wrong"

But that was yesterday.
And now she's gone.
But the music, and the memories. They still exist.

"And now I'm just a prisoner
In that stereo hi-fi jail
The needle pierced just like a nail
As she rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone"

I used to think the music was enough.

But you need the woman in this song. You eventually have to cross over, to connect with a romantic partner.

Some people got married, sold their vinyl, play soft jazz while suburban neighbors come over to eat the latest Jamie Oliver concoction.

I never went that far.

I can't go that far.

Maybe Mick Jagger can dine with princes and captains of industry, but I don't think Ray Davies does.

Because Ray doesn't fit in.

He played to the back row for a minute there, but it didn't take, it didn't stick.

It takes a special kind of person to proclaim himself the leader of the greatest rock and roll band in the whole world.

I guess I never wanted the greatest. I just wanted the most meaningful. The one who touched my soul.

When I listen to these great Kinks tracks, I think they were made just for me. By someone who also doesn't fit in.

I guess that's how the world divides up. Into those who wear leisure suits and those too uncomfortable to follow fashion.

I'm not stuck in the past. It's just that I don't make a move on impulse, I don't need to be a member of the group. Music means too much to me to say something is good just because it sells, because it's popular. Because I remember when the music was more than popular, when it made the difference, when it was all that mattered.

(The miracle of YouTube allows one to hear "To The Bone". I advise listening, but not watching. "To The Bone" is the kind of song you should listen to alone, in the dark, as your life flashes through your mind's eye. Never forget that video not only killed careers, it helped kill rock and roll, by stripping it of its magic.)

The blog is here. I wish more people, hacks or otherwise, with these kinda vivid music memories would blog 'em.

Caroline's Playing!

Caroline Monroe will be playing Smith's Olde Bar Tuesday night, the 14th. Oh, are you in for a treat! Plain and simple, Caroline wants to be a star. She's got what it takes to do it too, that rare combination of savvy, charisma, determination, guts, a hint of ruthlessness you sense about her, some would call it excellent focus, and oh yeah... The Voice. She's got The Voice. Click on Right Here In My Heart on her MySpace profile and tell me I'm not right after you play that. (Bring your hankie for that one.) Caroline's also a guest singer on a TrueGritz webisode or two. Plus, her daddy sure writes a mean-ass lefty blog, a novel I hear's been wrapped-up after fourteen years in the making, and a seriously twangy song or two, too. What more do you need for a bullet to the top of the charts?!

Southern Denial

I have a confession to make... I miss my rural roots and the South Carolina countryside I grew-up in. Having lived in Atlanta's urban clusterfest for so long now I foolishly believed I'd evolved (de-volved) beyond all-things-agrarian. Talk about being in denial. But reading the evocative, achingly southern Memory's Keep, by UGA professor and novelist James Everett Kibler, is just about to break my heart.

I want to go home. At least for the holidays.

Keep It Local

I'm up to my eyeballs in local (mostly traffic) issues this week, so this is WARNING an inherently boring post unless you're in the hell of Atlanta traffic. Of course, that could be more than a few of you readers here. I'll just copy and paste a press release that I sent to media, the Mayor, etc. about some things coming up this week that concern traffic and development in Atlanta.

* Tonight at 7pm at the DeFoor Center on Defoor Ave., NW is the monthly Underwood Hills Neighborhood Association meeting. (Felicia Moore’s district, #9.) Reps from Carter USA will be at this meeting.

Carter USA is the developer of the property at Howell Mill and I-75, directly across from the new intown Wal-Mart. CarterUSA comes to the table with no plans or assistance to ease the horrendous traffic conditions along Howell Mill Road that now have us virtually trapped in our neighborhoods at certain times. Yet they are moving forward with plans to build a medical complex and an accompanying parking garage for 980 spaces. Unless Mayor Franklin can put a moratorium on large building projects along Howell Mill Road, as she’s done along the Beltway:
http://www.ajc.com/search/content/metro/atlanta/stories/2006/11/06/1107metbeltline.html

* Also, “Harold Linnenkohl, Commissioner of the powerful and influential Georgia Department of Transportation will make a rare public, neighborhood appearance at the next meeting of the Northwest Community Alliance (NCA), this coming Wednesday, 7pm, November 15, 2006.

Mr. Linnenkohl will take your questions, following his opening remarks. The meeting will be held at the Holiday Inn, Howell Mill and I-75 across the street from "The District" on Howell Mill, a Selig Enterprises Development.” (This info per Mike Koblentz, Chair of the Northwest Community Alliance.)

Why is it “rare” for a Commissioner of a public/state entity to meet with “the public?” If that truly is the case, then there is something inherently twisted about that.

* According to the Atlanta Regional Commission, the Howell Mill Road corridor, some of it, has been placed on their "Projects of Concern" list:
http://www.atlantaregional.com/cps/rde/xbcr/SID-3F57FEE7-1AE2CCD3/arc/ProjectsofConcernSept06.pdf

Don't Have To Kiss Your (Editor's) Ass Anymore

The experts agree: blogging is addictive. It's addictive with an audience of 100 uniques a day. Imagine the beast you've got to feed when you're at 100K, as is writer Andrew Sullivan.

Sullivan has some wonderful insights into the liberating sensation blogging fuels the writer with, thus making blogging such a powerful and intriguing medium compared to tired old media ways:

It is addictive. I also found it just amazing, as a writer who had been in the mainstream media and actually edited a regular weekly magazine and dealt with publishers, other editors, owners, and other stuff. To actually just have yourself and your readers -- to get rid of all the people you have to basically suck up to. Not to have to suck up to anyone anymore was so liberating, especially after my five years at The New Republic, which were not marked by my obvious skills at people management.

Full piece here.

But set the content-providing thrills aside (and yes, bloggers do provide content -- valuable, marketable content) and think of the wonderful garden paths blogs send the reader traipsing down.

A quick check to a blogger pal's, Chris Boese's, blog finds that Chris used to play high school basketball against the woman who just got elected Governor of Alaska, the most oil-rich state in the nation, as Chris reminds the reader. Talk about an interesting perspective you weren't really going to find in a paper.

Surely not in the AJC as they can't even recognize a good story in their own backyard. Case in point, yesterday the AJC's most popular/most emailed story was about Shirley Franklin's response to the recent John Eaves campaign ad controversy, the same ad controversy that had become a NATIONAL conversation.

But did the AJC put the story on the front page of the print version? No! They could have scrawled The Passion of Shirley Franklin above the fold and sold a ton of papers yesterday. Instead, they put a smallish image of Newt there and a bland, uninspired story about the Mayor inside on the Metro section cover, a story that told the reader nothing about Shirley's anger and emphatic stance at the Commerce Club speech on Wednesday. You'd have thought the Mayor was just whistling Dixie at the podium from their version of it!

But in reality, she was pissed-off and fired-up, and directing that fury at a room full of aging, white, corporate and civic power-suits. I know because I was there, and blogged it.

The other thing worth noting was that the news of Shirley's fiery response was cranked-out to the public just an hour or so after it occurred, not by the AJC, but by an independent blogger.

So not only can the AJC not tell a story worth a damn, nor put a story on the front page that should be on the front page because it's part of a national conversation, they are headed for a scenario where bloggers will soon start stealing their online readership, too.

The AJC deserves every bit of its declining print readership conundrum. Why these media giants still even bother with print is beyond me. Just put out a boutique-y little thing for the old folks and go at the Internet with guns blazing. If you ask me, which of course no one did.

Rumsfeld Does Origami

Having a bad day? Need a quick funny-break? This video will have you ROFLing in a heartbeat. Who knew Rummy rolled his own? From the Craig Ferguson Show. (Who's he? One hilarious dude that's what.)

The Greatest Love of All

Bill Maher outs another Republican who's long been outed. Still, this replay got censored.

Sick and Tired of Being Pushed Around

Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin does not forget who dug the well she drinks from. And she told a room full of aging white suits, in no uncertain terms, today at the Commerce Club just that.

Peachtree Screed blogs it first, with an excerpt here:

A furious Mayor Shirley Franklin took off the gloves today in defending her reasons for taking part in the controversial ads for Fulton County Commission Chairman-elect John Eaves.

Franklin, Congressman John Lewis and former Mayor Andrew Young all made ads for Eaves.

The ads have gotten national attention, especially from right-wing talk show hosts -- who always ignore the attack ads aired by their fellow right-wing politicians. I didn't like the ad Lewis did because Eaves' opponent, Lee Morris, is a good guy I've known for many years.

Full story here.

And yeah, PeachScree, I get around this here town. So I can blog it all, of course.

It's The Fundies, Stupid

Wow! Bullshit creates a total and impenetrable, moronic stupor if doled out by a moronic hypocrite. Those poor poor people. This expose of Ted Haggard by Richard Hawkins is a must-see. And Dear God, if Hawkins is being arrogant, may I please have some of that too?

Open (Thread) Question

Is Dean the new Rove? Have at it.

Swarming Around The Media Bastille

First the House, then possibly the Senate. Then toss-out a few print editors and a Defense Secretary or two while you're measuring for the new curtains. Some are yelling for the bloggers/Internets to get their fair share of the credit. Still others are furious their message was, thankfully, ignored. Chaos, disorder and confusion. Our work is only beginning here.

The real winners right about now? The rest of the world. Maybe next the people of New Orleans. Lord knows they've suffered long enough for the sins of others.

It's A'Rainin' Men, Allelueia

And they're all over 55. So what's it like to be just about the only chick under 50 (at least in the Redneck-Literati Room) on Election Night at Manuel's, a drinking establishment so packed last night they couldn't squeeze another Democrat in if Howard Dean started screaming?

Typical overheard/solicited/participatory verbage through the night went something like this:

"Hey, you voted for any Republicans?"
"No, but I fucked one once."
"Norton says he fucked Peggy Noonan once."
"But he can't remember."
"I'd go down on Nancy Pelosi."
"Hey, we just met. Let's play a game. Who in this room last paid for sex?"
"Would you lap-dance for me?"
"Depends on what you're paying."
"Tell me 'bout the Internets."
"You can't handle the Internets."
"My huge-roids are acting-up. I gotta stand-up and go flirt."
"Your website is awesome."
"Your website sucks."
"Did you know I'm a writer too?"
"Where's Grift Drift?"
"Beats the fuck outta me. I only met him on a blog."
"I think it's Drift Grift."
"No you dumbass. It's James."
"Take my chair and I'll knife you."
"Bring it on, bitch."
"Doug Teper wears black Italian shoes."
"Doug Teper is a black Italian."
"If you say J-E-W, you're an anti-Semite."
"If I sit next to Ken, does that make me a racist ho?"
"Where do you think Vernon Jones is about right now?"
"Up Sonny's ass."
"Hey, there goes a Millennial. With a fuckin' cell phone!"
"Hell, they're coming in here in droves."
"No Wi-Fi here you idiot poseur."
"Ain't never gonna be either."
"They speak French at the Fulton County Courthouse?"
"Look, there's whites and blacks and people with beards here."
"I got a coupla deaths threats from that story."
"Congratulations!"
"Norton's gonna run this new government."
"McNair can be his driver. He's from Alabama."
(Norton himself:) "I'll be the Liquor Commissioner!!!"
"Man, that's a really big mic you've got."
"Yeah, but it don't work."
"Do you really make money blogging?"
"I lap-dance so I can blog."
"Why are there no Southern politicians with paid bloggers?"
"They cain't turn on a computer yet."
"Who you mean? The bloggers or the politicians?"
"Dick Cheney shoot any lesbians yet?"
"Are we the only Red State in the nation now?"
"No, we're the only Ree-tards in the nation now."
"You really miss Tommy and Manuel on a night like this."
"Yeah"

Just Voted

Just went to the firehouse to vote. Lot of folks there. Talked to several neighbors. One person peered over my shoulder and saw my name on that initial form you fill out (so much for privacy) and introduced himself by saying he reads my blog. I guess that's a cool thing. Hmmm. Chances are, he's also read my emails on the neighborhood discussion board too! Yikes. I was a little nervous at first, 'til I realized he wasn't one of my best (discussion board) flamers.

Precinct dude said he had about 75 people show last election day. He said he had that many within 45 minutes of opening this morning. Very active out there on this rainy Election Day/Night In Atlanta, Georgia.

Governor of SC Turned Away At Polls!

Oh Jeez! CNN is reporting that the freakin' Governor of South Carolina was turned away at his Sullivan's Island (Elementary School) polling place because he couldn't find his voter registration card in his wallet.

Things are off to a great start for that place, eh?

Vote!

Yes, now's the time when we all just shut the fuck up and go vote. And then maybe later meet-up at a Georgia Governor's race election night party, eh? To blog it all of course.

UPDATE: Manuel's tonight at 6:30pm seems to be the bloggers' choice for the jumping-off and drinking point.

GO VOTE!!!!!

Cute and Pink and Damn, It's Good!

I just stumbled across the cutest, and very popular, blog by a gal in Singapore. I typically will back right on out of any space I see that's pink and stuff and rattles on like a beer bottle on the floor of your car about the mundane, and is obviously by a Millennial. But this one can write. She really can! She hooked me with this line about a wretching break-up:

3 AM and I force Doritos down my throat because you can't choke on tears when you're busy choking on Doritos.

Here's Angelique, folks.

Gettin' Holy, Hon

A woman is now head of the Episcopal Church. 'Bout time. Now get to work, Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori. God is smiling on you. She told me She was very happy, excited and "keeping it real" about this latest Anglican development. And no, She didn't tell the Fundies. (They're on Her shit list fer sure.) She told me. So there. And maybe you can do something about the headgear in your 9 years as Chief? Great! Love it. Don't ever change! No, wrong message. DO change! Change everything!

The Link That Will Never Go Away

Finally! An online version is now available for the touching and comprehensive obit for John Peel by Tom Roche, published originally by Atlanta's Stomp and Stammer. Jeez, talk about digi-phobia. Worse than the damn Beatles. Here's a taste, but you music geeks sit a spell and read in full here.

I (the writer, Tom) first wrote to John Peel nearly 20 years ago to just say thanks for the weekly BBC show he did on shortwave (received with barely passable reception in Atlanta.) I mentioned that some band he’d played doing a noisy Paul Simon cover was nothing new to Atlantans, home of the memorable all-Paul-Simon-punk-cover-band The Coolies. I didn’t expect a response, but he wrote back promptly. Apparently he didn’t get much international mail at all for his World Service shows other than “play-more-Hall-and-Oates” requests. So in the rare instance someone wrote to say they “got it,” he took note.

In his reply he said I should “tell (Atlanta record label entrepreneur) Danny Beard I played that Coolies record a lot.” He also asked to ship him any Atlanta and regional records he might enjoy. I sent off the 688 Records Compilation, (and he latched on to Dash Rip Rock briefly) and many other records over time. Once, he replied to a post card I’d sent about a great weird reggae record he had played (”Border Clash” by Ninjaman, look it up) by, surprisingly, sending along a copy of that record he’d bought himself. This correspondence went on for years, and we’d meet for a pint whenever I’d visit London. (His current BBC producer said recently that John still spent upwards of 200 pounds a month of his own money in London record shops purchasing records for his shows.

Rest of the pie here.

Blog Yourself A Better Life

Well, that's pushing it I admit. But a richer, more honest life maybe. Tania, again, blows me away, and makes me think and cry and laugh and leave way-honest comments and reach for more. From The Stone's Colossal Dream:

Finally--and I realize I've merely touched and not delved here--as the world gets smaller though technology, the Internet and television show us a lot of pain. We don't have the luxury of ignorance anymore. It keeps us more honest. It should compel us to at least some small action. (Voting maybe.) That's not a bad thing. But I see joy and youthful exuberance everywhere. I see imaginative people letting their hair down, accessing their inner child, acknowledging the wonder of this beautiful, flawed world.

Mind yourselves. Ask questions. Do what's right. Do what's fun. Take your small comfort from the past but revel in progress. Be a part of it.

Don't be so afraid.

Yeah. Tania's blog here.

We Never Needed No Stinkin' Marketeers

Some of us never like 'em anyway. We just always hung out on the long tail 'cause it was, uh, less crowded. Of course the marketeers and the VCs will try to get all mixed-up in there now. Already are. If they can find it. And if they do, well, don't say no one warned 'em that no one out on the long tail is really terribly interested in shuck and jive, especially crap they've already heard before. It's moreorless, the "Where were you while we were getting high?" scenario. I'm gonna shut-up now 'cause I'm starting to sound like a Dylan interview.

Roll your own product. If it's the best, they'll smoke the shit out of it! From Ugly Bobby today:

If you want success today, create something good. Seed the early adopters. And then cease, or at least slow down, your marketing. Because the more you beat people over the head, the less attention they're going to pay. THEY want to feel in control, THEY don't want to feel tools of the system. THEY want to embrace the project, just like you wanted to embrace and tell everybody about "Harold and Maude".

This frightens the purveyors. Because they can nail marketing, but QUALITY? Look at the flicks, they truly suck. Ask the man on the street, he thinks music sucks TOO! To the point where most people have tuned out, and the only people who can bring them back are their buds, who have a RELATIONSHIP with them. Believe me, the marketers at Fox don't have a relationship with their audience. They THINK they do, but they don't. (SGR: Apply same to Mark Halperin.)

Everybody's living in his own little world. Since I was bombarded with "Borat" hype, I thought everybody was aware of the movie. Because I don't talk to every one of the 300 million Americans, I didn't know I was wrong until the research came in.

Hearing the movie's good, I'm gonna give it a chance. Then again, if Fox keeps trumpeting the story, they're gonna kill MY word of mouth, I don't want to work for the man. And neither does the Net generation. WE make the stars, not you. Give us reasonable choices, WE'LL do the work. It won't happen instantly. First week grosses, first week SoundScan numbers, are no longer important. It's about longevity. It won't take forever, because word of mouth happens so quickly on the Net, and we're all in touch with SO many more people on a regular basis. But it's now our game, not yours, don't ever forget it.

Raspberry's all around. Full rant here.