The Heart of Rock And Roll In Cincinnati?
Okay boys and girls and people my age - the long wished for, never thought it would happen has happened. The funniest TV show about radio has finally hit the DVD racks. That's right, the 'back when I was a kid we only had three channels and PBS" 70s has met the 2000s with the release of WKRP in Cincinnati on DVD.
If I had listened to the whiners on a certain online retail site [starts with an 'A'], I might not have picked this set up. But I figured for $ 30 at a major discount retailer, I'd could judge for myself. So far I am not disappointed at all. But to deal with the concerns of the concerned, lets answer the two major questions:
First: "Is it true some of the music is changed?" Yes. While apparently certain artists appreciated airplay while the show was on the air, the persons in charge of their catalogs now apparently want the arm and the leg to license their client's work to DVD. Okay, so Johnny Fever, M.D. goes into one of his patters and instead of getting "What do I do when I'm all gassed out and I need a boost?" and getting Bob Seger's Old Time Rock and Roll, ["Take those old records off the shelf, etc, etc."] we get some generic something. Is it slightly disappointing? Yeah, considering some things are there. Should it keep anyone from buying the set? Nope.
Second: "Are these cut up for syndication or are they the originals?" Well, having been some 25 or so years since any one's seen the full originals, it's hard to say, but according to the commentary and from the 8 [of 22] episodes I've watched in the last 24 hours, these appear to be the full length 22 minute shows.
My feeling at this point is this: When you buy something like this [and this is my first foray into TV shows on DVD], you're going to be a little disappointed. I mean there is a nostalgia factor to such a purchase. The DVD will never replace your memories of watching this the first time when you're 12 or 13 and Loni Anderson comes on the tube and suddenly you understand something you didn't understand before. On the other hand, now you get some more of Johnny Fever's references to flying high and stuff.
Now sure WKRP is about a radio station and the music played a little more prominence in the show than some others, but it's still about a bunch of characters working in a radio station and that's the show. Saying that changing the music changes the show is like saying that changing the news Ted Baxter is reading changes the Mary Tyler Moore Show.
This show is about characters and there are no better characters than Les Nesman ["Five Time Winner of the Buckeye Newshawk Award"], Dr. Johnny Fever, Venus Flytrap and Arthur "Big Guy" Carlson. This is true ensemble television along the likes of MTM and Newhart [the second Bob show - the one in Vermont, though the Bob Newhart Show is damn good in its own way].
There's some truly classic TV here - the original pilot, the Thanksgiving turkey miscue, the contest, the drinking experiment with the state trooper where Johnny keeps getting better the more he drinks and the 300 lb. former wrestler Little Ed and his Sunday gospel show that he gang has to play hardball with [by threatening to bring in the I.R.S.].
Don't let yourself be cheated because of a few minor changes. I smiled and laughed out loud at things I've seen a dozen or more times because it's still funny. "God as my witness - I thought turkeys could fly."
FOUR STARS
Friday, April 27, 2007
Watched "Last 24" on Hunter Thompson on Biography tonight. Sad sad story. But in the end he did it his way.
It just reminded me of several of my own Strange and Terrible Fear and Loathing adventure stories begun just mostly for MY amusement, most never over 3-4 handwritten pages because I just never had the discipline to buckle down and WRITE.
Reading Klosterman gives me that... desire again. I'd like to meet some rich chick who will just let me write and not deal with the day to day minutiae... but what would I write about? I admire Ish for putting up what she does, even if I don't agree with half of it. People write about what they're passionate about and I'm not passionate about ANYTHING right now. Oh, I can work up into a Music Snob snit once in a while, but for the last 6 mo.- year I've just been coasting, aside from moving.
My problem is I don't like to... no, scratch that, not that I don't like to, I just DON'T leave my comfort zone. I use my schedule as an excuse to hermit away and not interact and just be a slug. And as much baggage as I have dropped in the last year, I still have not found a motivation. I was just thinking this evening about the gym membership I am paying for and not using. Why don't I go? Because I don't see results. It's a long term process and I don't see results and that send me back into the depressing cycle. And when I am depressed, I eat. I eat bad things like pizza and hamburgers and avoid veggies like the plague...
Is there someplace to go to refill my passion tank?
It just reminded me of several of my own Strange and Terrible Fear and Loathing adventure stories begun just mostly for MY amusement, most never over 3-4 handwritten pages because I just never had the discipline to buckle down and WRITE.
Reading Klosterman gives me that... desire again. I'd like to meet some rich chick who will just let me write and not deal with the day to day minutiae... but what would I write about? I admire Ish for putting up what she does, even if I don't agree with half of it. People write about what they're passionate about and I'm not passionate about ANYTHING right now. Oh, I can work up into a Music Snob snit once in a while, but for the last 6 mo.- year I've just been coasting, aside from moving.
My problem is I don't like to... no, scratch that, not that I don't like to, I just DON'T leave my comfort zone. I use my schedule as an excuse to hermit away and not interact and just be a slug. And as much baggage as I have dropped in the last year, I still have not found a motivation. I was just thinking this evening about the gym membership I am paying for and not using. Why don't I go? Because I don't see results. It's a long term process and I don't see results and that send me back into the depressing cycle. And when I am depressed, I eat. I eat bad things like pizza and hamburgers and avoid veggies like the plague...
Is there someplace to go to refill my passion tank?
Monday, April 23, 2007
People Watching at the DPS
So it's 12 days after my birthday, which means it is 12 days after I was supposed to renew my driver's license. I'd stopped in the Monday before my birthday about 1130 and found the place full and decided to try another day. And I figured that I'd try and get there early and beat the rush....
So I got the the DPS office in Hurst right about 900. I got in the line until someone told me I needed to see the clerk to get a number. I need to get in a line to get a number to get in line? God bless the bureaucracy! So I took my Chuck Klosterman and stood against the wall [so ladies and older people could have the few chairs - I am still fairly young and have manners, though I rarely use them]. My number was 18 - they were serving 82. Good thing I brought a book. Before it was over, I'd wish I'd stopped for the egg McMuffin before I came in.
Between bouts of giggling to myself about Chuck on how Billy Joel might be the uncoolest rock star and how MTV's The Real World allowed us all to become one-dimensional caricatures of ourselves I did observe a few things.
The place was at least mercifully quiet since there were several signs advising to turn off cell phones. A couple people coming in had them but calls were wrapped up quickly, at least within my earshot. I did see a couple people with Bluetooths [Blueteeth?] on and wondered if they would forget they had them on when the time came to take their picture... can you just see the cop pulling the guy over? "It's a close resemblance sir, but I'm not sure this is you. Can you put on your Bluetooth?"
There's also a lot of signs advising you that they take checks and cash ONLY. You can use your debit card for McDonald's, 7-11, probably Krisy Kreme for your $ 1.99 2 donuts and coffee but not at the DPS. You'd think they'd do the debit / credit card before the check... but this is the state we're talking about, not free enterprise. I guess they don't want to give Visa et al their 4-6% cut for using their service.
A lot of people bring people with them to DPS [that's the Department of Public Safety in Texas, if you're not from around here - they're the driver's license people in Texas]. Some bring in their whole family [assuming Mom and Dad bringing in their kids for their driver's test, of course a few ladies with small children and babies [again, surprisingly well behaved for such a boring place] some older couples. I suppose some people are honest and make their spouse come so they can say "No, I didn't drive here on my expired license." [They didn't ask me.] And it's the real cross section of America in there - Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Whites, short, thin, tall, fat and everything in between.
A big deal was made a few weeks back about how the post office 'quietly' disappeared the clocks in their lobby because they didn't want people to think about how long they were spending waiting in line. The DPS doesn't have any clocks either, but because they provide chairs for people to sit in [not enough, only about 50 or so] and the phones are all off and nobody else I saw had the sense to think 'this is going to take a while, I ought to take a book or crossword or the paper,' all one CAN do is sit and contemplate the time. I suppose one could meditate, but you might miss your number being called.
I read a lot - I waited an I waited for an hour and 15 minutes until my number was called to get into the short line for the trip to the counter - after that, I was done in less than ten minutes. And home. All just for the privilege of driving. It's an hour and a half [and $ 24] of my life I'll never have back again. At least I was able to get something out of it. Next time, though - on line!
So it's 12 days after my birthday, which means it is 12 days after I was supposed to renew my driver's license. I'd stopped in the Monday before my birthday about 1130 and found the place full and decided to try another day. And I figured that I'd try and get there early and beat the rush....
So I got the the DPS office in Hurst right about 900. I got in the line until someone told me I needed to see the clerk to get a number. I need to get in a line to get a number to get in line? God bless the bureaucracy! So I took my Chuck Klosterman and stood against the wall [so ladies and older people could have the few chairs - I am still fairly young and have manners, though I rarely use them]. My number was 18 - they were serving 82. Good thing I brought a book. Before it was over, I'd wish I'd stopped for the egg McMuffin before I came in.
Between bouts of giggling to myself about Chuck on how Billy Joel might be the uncoolest rock star and how MTV's The Real World allowed us all to become one-dimensional caricatures of ourselves I did observe a few things.
The place was at least mercifully quiet since there were several signs advising to turn off cell phones. A couple people coming in had them but calls were wrapped up quickly, at least within my earshot. I did see a couple people with Bluetooths [Blueteeth?] on and wondered if they would forget they had them on when the time came to take their picture... can you just see the cop pulling the guy over? "It's a close resemblance sir, but I'm not sure this is you. Can you put on your Bluetooth?"
There's also a lot of signs advising you that they take checks and cash ONLY. You can use your debit card for McDonald's, 7-11, probably Krisy Kreme for your $ 1.99 2 donuts and coffee but not at the DPS. You'd think they'd do the debit / credit card before the check... but this is the state we're talking about, not free enterprise. I guess they don't want to give Visa et al their 4-6% cut for using their service.
A lot of people bring people with them to DPS [that's the Department of Public Safety in Texas, if you're not from around here - they're the driver's license people in Texas]. Some bring in their whole family [assuming Mom and Dad bringing in their kids for their driver's test, of course a few ladies with small children and babies [again, surprisingly well behaved for such a boring place] some older couples. I suppose some people are honest and make their spouse come so they can say "No, I didn't drive here on my expired license." [They didn't ask me.] And it's the real cross section of America in there - Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Whites, short, thin, tall, fat and everything in between.
A big deal was made a few weeks back about how the post office 'quietly' disappeared the clocks in their lobby because they didn't want people to think about how long they were spending waiting in line. The DPS doesn't have any clocks either, but because they provide chairs for people to sit in [not enough, only about 50 or so] and the phones are all off and nobody else I saw had the sense to think 'this is going to take a while, I ought to take a book or crossword or the paper,' all one CAN do is sit and contemplate the time. I suppose one could meditate, but you might miss your number being called.
I read a lot - I waited an I waited for an hour and 15 minutes until my number was called to get into the short line for the trip to the counter - after that, I was done in less than ten minutes. And home. All just for the privilege of driving. It's an hour and a half [and $ 24] of my life I'll never have back again. At least I was able to get something out of it. Next time, though - on line!
Thanks Again
To those who provided Borders gift cards for my birthday, I spent about 2 hours shopping today and I picked out a few additions to the CD collection that everyone thinks is filed backwards.
Kings of Leon - Aha Shake Heartbreak
Patty Griffin - Children Running Through
Cocteau Twins - Stars and Topsoil [Collection]
Tragically Hip - World Container [good Canadian rock eh, produced by Bob Rock - good clean sound]
I also picked up Chuck Klosterman's Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs for some light reading. And the new MOJO. So Thanks again.
On the Tube
I Tivo'd the Joe Strummer documentary Let's Rock Again on Sundance Friday. God, it's good, but it's so sad. It's basically a documentary of Joe and the Mescaleros tour of Japan and quickie tour of the US after the release of Global A-Go-Go. Joe showing up at a radio station in Atlantic City and trying to get them to play something from the new album and plug the show. Which is really sad because the album is great. I remember running across it one weekend in Dallas and [names withheld to protect the guilty] listening and believing Joe had made an album just for us to enjoy with a spleef. The concert footage is great and makes me appreciate how good the Mescaleros are/were. I've been blasting the album in my car for two days. It's what Mick Jones' Big Audio Dynamite should have become after The Globe, but didn't.
Strange Calls
I got a call from northern lands this week, someone worried about having exerted undue influence on a naive and impressionable youth and about having not been a particularly good role model.
While I see the direction of the line of thinking, it's not one I spend a lot of time worrying about. Other people bought or allowed me to drink beer and consume their record collections while I searched for old/new things to analyze. And Deb's apartment was certainly more calm than the drunken macho-fests that some nights at Scott's could be. I never had a firecracker or food fight at Deb's [though I did wake to the sound of breaking glass one night] nor did anyone tackle a flagpole or rip their chin open on the bottom of the pool. And the nights were less full of repressed angst than some nights at Jim's could be.
I guess what I'm saying is that every day, every person you meet, every paper or book you read, every LP/CD you listen to, every TV show you watch and every drink or meal you imbibe colors you in some way. Some things have so little impact you barely give them a second thought and some things leave you scared and scarred for life. I've found myself heavily damaged by people I've hardly known and I've taken damage from my friends, too. I've carried the guilt or fear of damage I've done to others more than anyone else I know. I carried a two ton boulder of what if's for as long as I can remember and I let them weigh me down like the proverbial albatross for a lot of years. But it's done. I can still be sorry and try not to make the same mistakes with other people. But I had to let it go so I can begin inching forward and growing again.
So my response is this: Yes, you colored me in some way. Yes, you had influence and continue to do so. Don't be weighed down by what is done, work on being a good friend and good influence now.
Okay, I'm down off the soapbox.
To those who provided Borders gift cards for my birthday, I spent about 2 hours shopping today and I picked out a few additions to the CD collection that everyone thinks is filed backwards.
Kings of Leon - Aha Shake Heartbreak
Patty Griffin - Children Running Through
Cocteau Twins - Stars and Topsoil [Collection]
Tragically Hip - World Container [good Canadian rock eh, produced by Bob Rock - good clean sound]
I also picked up Chuck Klosterman's Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs for some light reading. And the new MOJO. So Thanks again.
On the Tube
I Tivo'd the Joe Strummer documentary Let's Rock Again on Sundance Friday. God, it's good, but it's so sad. It's basically a documentary of Joe and the Mescaleros tour of Japan and quickie tour of the US after the release of Global A-Go-Go. Joe showing up at a radio station in Atlantic City and trying to get them to play something from the new album and plug the show. Which is really sad because the album is great. I remember running across it one weekend in Dallas and [names withheld to protect the guilty] listening and believing Joe had made an album just for us to enjoy with a spleef. The concert footage is great and makes me appreciate how good the Mescaleros are/were. I've been blasting the album in my car for two days. It's what Mick Jones' Big Audio Dynamite should have become after The Globe, but didn't.
Strange Calls
I got a call from northern lands this week, someone worried about having exerted undue influence on a naive and impressionable youth and about having not been a particularly good role model.
While I see the direction of the line of thinking, it's not one I spend a lot of time worrying about. Other people bought or allowed me to drink beer and consume their record collections while I searched for old/new things to analyze. And Deb's apartment was certainly more calm than the drunken macho-fests that some nights at Scott's could be. I never had a firecracker or food fight at Deb's [though I did wake to the sound of breaking glass one night] nor did anyone tackle a flagpole or rip their chin open on the bottom of the pool. And the nights were less full of repressed angst than some nights at Jim's could be.
I guess what I'm saying is that every day, every person you meet, every paper or book you read, every LP/CD you listen to, every TV show you watch and every drink or meal you imbibe colors you in some way. Some things have so little impact you barely give them a second thought and some things leave you scared and scarred for life. I've found myself heavily damaged by people I've hardly known and I've taken damage from my friends, too. I've carried the guilt or fear of damage I've done to others more than anyone else I know. I carried a two ton boulder of what if's for as long as I can remember and I let them weigh me down like the proverbial albatross for a lot of years. But it's done. I can still be sorry and try not to make the same mistakes with other people. But I had to let it go so I can begin inching forward and growing again.
So my response is this: Yes, you colored me in some way. Yes, you had influence and continue to do so. Don't be weighed down by what is done, work on being a good friend and good influence now.
Okay, I'm down off the soapbox.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Birthday Party Aftermath
Well, it's all over but the trips to the curb with the trash and recycling now - my 40th birthday and bash are over.
It was great to see all the old friends who were able to get over for a little while, most of whom are probably now banned from playing with each other ever again. There's a reason we only do this every couple of years now; it takes that long to recover and clean up. I know my head hurt most of the time I was awake Sunday afternoon - but I slept a lot.
I had a speech, but there was never a opportunity to give a speech and say thanks. That's the problem with parties like this - you don't get to sit and really chat with anyone for a long time. But there's still a few things to say before all the embarrassing photos get sent.
Thanks of course to Mom and Dad - without whom none of this would ever be possible.
Thanks to my sister Dana Rae Murray for everything she did for this party, and she did everything except mop the floors and hide my laundry. And for her help with the invitations - I found out she is a whiz on Photoshop now. And just for being herself. We didn't fight much as kids and I think she over worries sometimes now, but she's great fun and she made this day run like clockwork.
Thanks to Cory Murray, my brother in law, for not sucker punching me the times I probably deserved it when we were younger and wilder and for being supportive and encouraging in the years since he married into this family. Cory also manned the grill this weekend and all the burgers, brats and dogs turned out great and we had just the right amount of everything.
Thanks to Richard and Donna Zottola and Michael and Janet Leone for being my second godparents and always being there with love, support and advice when I need a fresh perspective.
Thanks to my beloved grandparents Darrell and Rose Sheets, unfortunately unable to attend but loved and missed. Memories of summers spent at their house make me smile every times I think of them and sometimes it just takes the smell of fresh cut grass on a cool damp evening to take me back there.
Thanks to Deb Maness for being my best friend for the last 20 years. She bought me beer and taught me about the real world while I was still an underaged punk and she's been there with support ever since.
A quick shout out to some people for guidance with my musical tastes: David Herring, wherever he may be, Marty Thompson, Nate Fowler, Scott Downey and Jim Dunnigan. And for all of you who don't like my music filing system - bite me!
A tip of the glass to those not with us any longer but never forgotten - my grandmother Betty Lou Galupi-Webb and Henry and Heather Meyer.
There's tons more people I could put on here, but in order to save space, let me just say thank you over the years for support, encouragement, laughter, bummed smokes never paid back, allowing me to invade your space, eat your food, drink your beer, occasionally rant and rave and be drunk and/or stupid, crash on your floor or couch and not holding it against me the next day. Thanks for letting me share your good times and I hope I have helped you smile as many times as you all have let me smile.
Vive Le Rock! Salud!
Well, it's all over but the trips to the curb with the trash and recycling now - my 40th birthday and bash are over.
It was great to see all the old friends who were able to get over for a little while, most of whom are probably now banned from playing with each other ever again. There's a reason we only do this every couple of years now; it takes that long to recover and clean up. I know my head hurt most of the time I was awake Sunday afternoon - but I slept a lot.
I had a speech, but there was never a opportunity to give a speech and say thanks. That's the problem with parties like this - you don't get to sit and really chat with anyone for a long time. But there's still a few things to say before all the embarrassing photos get sent.
Thanks of course to Mom and Dad - without whom none of this would ever be possible.
Thanks to my sister Dana Rae Murray for everything she did for this party, and she did everything except mop the floors and hide my laundry. And for her help with the invitations - I found out she is a whiz on Photoshop now. And just for being herself. We didn't fight much as kids and I think she over worries sometimes now, but she's great fun and she made this day run like clockwork.
Thanks to Cory Murray, my brother in law, for not sucker punching me the times I probably deserved it when we were younger and wilder and for being supportive and encouraging in the years since he married into this family. Cory also manned the grill this weekend and all the burgers, brats and dogs turned out great and we had just the right amount of everything.
Thanks to Richard and Donna Zottola and Michael and Janet Leone for being my second godparents and always being there with love, support and advice when I need a fresh perspective.
Thanks to my beloved grandparents Darrell and Rose Sheets, unfortunately unable to attend but loved and missed. Memories of summers spent at their house make me smile every times I think of them and sometimes it just takes the smell of fresh cut grass on a cool damp evening to take me back there.
Thanks to Deb Maness for being my best friend for the last 20 years. She bought me beer and taught me about the real world while I was still an underaged punk and she's been there with support ever since.
A quick shout out to some people for guidance with my musical tastes: David Herring, wherever he may be, Marty Thompson, Nate Fowler, Scott Downey and Jim Dunnigan. And for all of you who don't like my music filing system - bite me!
A tip of the glass to those not with us any longer but never forgotten - my grandmother Betty Lou Galupi-Webb and Henry and Heather Meyer.
There's tons more people I could put on here, but in order to save space, let me just say thank you over the years for support, encouragement, laughter, bummed smokes never paid back, allowing me to invade your space, eat your food, drink your beer, occasionally rant and rave and be drunk and/or stupid, crash on your floor or couch and not holding it against me the next day. Thanks for letting me share your good times and I hope I have helped you smile as many times as you all have let me smile.
Vive Le Rock! Salud!