Chinese Democracy is finally here. It's legally available for you and I to listen to without fear of Axl on a sleigh pulled by federal agents crashing through the wall. Liner notes, artwork, the whole shebang. It exists in a finalized form.
People who wouldn't care about a Guns n Roses album in 2008 scoff at it as an exercise in self indulgence, and those of us who have waited forever to actually witness this thing have spent a decade-plus building up unmeetable expectations. But I think once you can admit to yourself that this isn't a Guns n Roses album but a cd with Axl singing some "new" material you can actually listen somewhat objectively. It took me about three listens to get there. It actually feels more like a Faith No More album with 5 guitarists hired to make Jim Martin feel like shit.
I'm glad it's here. It's not Guns n Roses. It could never deliver on its "Second coming," "going to save the record industry," "be the greatest event in Rock n Roll history." And I'm still listening to it.
Of course, according to Axl's good buddy Sebastian Bach there is enough material for 3 or 4 cds. Perhaps we will have Chinese Democracy sequels over the next few months or years and Axl can exorcise this fourteen year demon-monkey from his back. As long as we don't have to wait decades for it, I'll be in line to give it a listen. Who am I kidding? If the next album comes out 2038 I'll still get it, unless, of course, I've died from a burger related heart attack by then. I like burgers.
As for the songs, here are my thoughts on a select few:
-"Shackler's Revenge," aside from the chorus, sounds entirely like a Buckethead song. It could have been on Monsters and Robots and not sounded out of place. But after I have amputated my connection to this "needing" to sound like classic GnR, it isn't a bad song especially in the sub chorus with those upbeat hi-hat hits.
-"Better" and "Street of Dreams" are currently what I feel are the best songs on the cd. The latter particularly because it comes the closest to having the ability to pass for what I once knew as Guns n Roses, albeit the post-dangerous-gritty-barroom Guns n Roses. When the bass comes in, I can see Duff standing there for a second. Even after that amputation I haven't been able to fully not want a real GnR album in my cd player.
-If the song "If the World" had Mike Patton singing it, it could have been on Album of the Year, an album which came out around the same time this album began it's journey in the 90s.
-"Catcher in the Rye," is good for the some of the same reasons as "Street of Dreams." The "nana-nas" actually make me smile but I'm pretty sure it's for the wrong reasons. That is some enthusiastic "nana na"-ing. And maybe I read too deeply into things but when Axl sings, "makes me wish I had a gun," I assume he knows where that leads my brain. A reunion isn't what he means but after this long you know he's thought and rethought his choices of words and decided to use such an iconic word in this scenario. It helps me believe there is more to this whole Chinese Democracy thing then just an album that took forever. I'll leave it to the conspiracy theorists to deconstruct the potential meanings of everything in his words.
-And how about that Kenny Loggins-from-Caddyshack intro to "Scraped?" I haven't decided if I love it for the right reasons yet.
-About 36 seconds into "Sorry" I crack up at how Axl says, "but I don't want to do it." Go listen to it. I love it. Otherwise it's a pretty good song that feels a little Alice in Chains-y.
-I'm honestly surprised that Axl didn't get Pavarotti to duet on "This I Love." It would have worked and not made it anymore pompous than it already sounds. But I've found that song to be a guilty pleasure that I might not yet admit that I like. Don't tell anyone.
Another potential positive of Chinese Democracy is that it features both Buckethead and Brain which puts Axl and Les Claypool a red, corn-rowed hair away from collaborating.
People are going to shit on it for not being GnR, but even GnR themselves could never replicate the sound from Appetite. Steven Adler is often overlooked but he deserves as much credit for that original sound as the rest.
I'll end here, knowing I will have countless new thoughts and feelings on the album as time goes by. Since I have finally been able to hear this album, I can go back to waiting to hear what Slash puts out next. Velvet Revolver, Snake Pit, a solo album, whatever it is, it will sound like Slash. And Slash sounds more like Guns n Roses than Guns n Roses does.
I am very glad that it has finally arrived and am ready to hear what comes next from Axl's name brand band. I'm also ready to hear what comes next from the guys who helped make GnR what it was. I like Chinese food, Chinese action movies and, of course, Chinese Democracy.
It all started when I woke up at the crack of mid afternoon one day in late May. There was a text message on my phone from Alicia saying something along the lines of, "I just got fourth row seats to Tom Waits. Want to go to Ohio?" I'm very glad I said yes. It was one of, if not the, best shows I've ever been to. But in addition to the concert itself, the occasion called for a random adventure to Ohio and a meandering journey home with extra time for diversions like Grandpa's Cheese Barn.
For those of you who know me, you'll note that I generally sleep somewhere between the hours of 6 AM and 1 PM. So when the time of departure was set at 4 in the morning on the Saturday of the show I had grand plans of getting out of work Friday night and cramming a few hours of sleep into my night before we left. But alas, I failed at sleep. I was too pumped about the show and the trip so I made some more CDs for the road.
We hit the road and soon enough it was time for breakfast. In my world, if you are at McDonalds during breakfast hours then you are probably up too late. No matter what you select off of a McDonalds breakfast menu after a night of not sleeping, it is going to kill you. Trying to prevent future horrible illness I passed on the McGriddles and went with the gold standard McMuffin, the lesser of the two diuretic evils. Follow that up in a few hours with car-warmed cookies and you have a potential recipe for disaster. But luckily I'm fueled by stupidity and I'm utterly hardcore so I made it to Ohio A-OK! I thrive on Bad Idea Fuel.
Speaking of "udderly hardcore" (which we weren't) we saw a crap ton of cows, which informed part of the road trip rules. Alicia needed to "moo" at every cow sighting or suffer some sort of undefined, self-imposed penalty. I'm not really sure why she had to moo or what the consequence would be if she didn't, but I'm glad we didn't need to find out. A missed moo could have ended in decapitation for all we know. She was right on top of those moos, though. We were also able to find out what kind of noise Pennsylvania farmers make while they drive their tractors. They say, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH."
On the way to and from Ohio, every cow was "mooed" at, every horse was "nayed" at, every farmer in a tractor was "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHed" at, and every EZ pass toll was met with a two-person round of cheers and a The Face into the nearest surveillance camera. As the journey continued and we passed across the PA line we saw one of the greatest signs ever constructed by mankind:
This picture isn't of the first actual sign we saw for this Heaven on Earth for those inclined to destroy something, but you get the point. I believe the first sign we saw was all the same font and merely said without any punctuation, "FIREWORKS KARATE SUPPLY." We made a mental footnote to return to this explosively dangerous place on our homeward journey. Right now we were on our way to see Tom Waits. And we didn't want to keep . . . Tom . . . Wait . . ing . . . (I'm so sorry).
I have to admit by the time we arrived in Ohio, I was dead. And I wasn't even driving so I can only imagine how Alicia was feeling. We checked into the motel which was located next to a really seedy looking Mexican restaurant and across the road from Arby's. I think both places served the same horse meat. We needed to eat and opted for the Arby's since I was suspicious of the not-quite-midget taking his cigarette break outside of the Mexican place. He was up to no good if you ask me.
I was still feeling rough from the cocktail of no sleep, McMuffins, and cookies so I figured what could Arby's possibly do to alter the equation at this point? Barely an Arby's meal later, I was asleep in the motel room for an hour or two to recharge my batteries next to a night stand littered with uneaten seasoned curlies and ketchup packets. That little bit of sleep was all I needed. I was completely ready for the show and to fend off any attacks from the murderous elderly couple residing in the room next door. I think they may have been in cahoots with the not-so-midgety-guy from the Mexican eatery.
Onward to Columbus!
What a classy marquee to greet the many concert goers who were already lined up for a block when we arrived. We nabbed our spot in line amidst the multi-generational crowd of mostly hipster folks. Everybody seemed pretty excited and they should have been. I didn't know it at the time, but the show had sold out in about three minutes. We were all lucky to have tickets.
When we got into the theater, which had the most polite ushers I have ever encountered in my life, we were brought to our seats. "Fourth row" as a concept hadn't fully sunk into my brain until I was sitting there. We were so unbelievably close to the stage. We were the first ones in our section so it was really fun to see each new audience member get to his or her seat and go through the same series of reactions:
1) holy bananas, these seats are great 2) wow, what a great theater 3) I'm even a little more excited now than I was a few minutes ago 4) congratulatory nods and handshakes all around
The theater (or "theatre") seemed like the perfect place to stage this show. The stage setup consisted of a wall of old rusty looking megaphone and phonograph speakers with a littered display of instruments strewn about the stage. In the middle was a raised platform where Tom Waits would soon be. It looked like something from a 1920s traveling side show or a carnival's junkyard. But the theater itself seemed like it should host vaudeville acts that very rarely get ribald enough to offend anybody's delicate sensibilities. So the combination of those two elements, the classy and the trashy, made for a great environment and a perfect fit for something called "Glitter and Doom."
There was no opening act, so when the lights lowered everyone got excited. People applauded at the dark shapes walking onto the stage. When the music started and the lights came on I was immediately struck by Tom Waits' incredible stage presence. I don't think it was just me, either. He exuded something intangible as he hunched over his microphone. He seemed larger than life as he stomped his Frankenstein-ish boots into his little stage, kicking up clouds of dust in the yellow lights. It all felt surreal, both by design and by his naturally unsettling demeanor. I didn't even recognize the first song (Lucinda) at the time but I already knew the whole show was going to be special. That's one of the elements that made the show so good. They did different arrangements of most of the songs. You are experiencing something unfamiliar no matter how many times you have listened to the albums.
For two and a half hours Tom Waits shouted and yelled and crowed with all his energy. He played the part of preacher, comedian, carnival barker, and general weird old man. In the past few years he has really turned into the weird old guy he's been wanting to be for decades. He sang the hell out of each and every song. The band was really good too. They were all multi-instrumentalists, as far as I could tell, with the most versatile being the brass/wind player.
It's hard to pick out highlights. The whole show was pretty great. And that's not a cop out or excuse to not write more (since I obviously enjoy a good ramble). It was a really, really good show. I wouldn't have minded hearing some more stuff from Rain Dogs but that is only a minor qualm. It's like wishing there were more leftovers after an awesome Thanksgiving dinner. You enjoyed it thoroughly but still wish there was even more. A little greedy, I guess.
It's interesting how much a performer's personality adds to a stage show. There weren't many props, just the stage setting and his wild gesticulating and contorting while he belted out the songs. He would occasionally use a megaphone to shout into the microphone which contributed both audibly and visually to the whole scenario. During "Eyeball kid" he used a sequined bowler hat to great effect, turning his head into a disco ball, reflecting beams of light into the crowd. It's hard to describe. Just take my word for it that it was awesome.
The best review I can give is that he could have kept playing indefinitely and I still would have sat there, contentedly. But I think the timer on which they based the duration of the show was Tom Waits' sweat stain trajectory. If the tour dates were dictated by the constellation Hydra, then obviously the show length was dictated by his jacket's saturation point. Epic pit stains eventually connected to epic back stains until, by the end of the second encore, his entire coat was a new, darker shade. He put a lot into the show.
I'm leaving out a ton of details, I'm sure, but eff you, man. You should've been there.
The way home was cool because we had disposable time. We could indulge in excursions off the non-existent itinerary. We could have followed PEHDTSCKJMBA if we had chosen. We briefly considered heading to Knoxville and finding tickets for the next show but instead went north towards Cleveland and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We got distracted by the previously mentioned Cheese Barn and a hundred signs for Niagara Falls. Since neither of us had seen the American side of the falls, that was the new destination. It was pretty awesome. The actual views of the falls are more scenic than the Canadian side, but the town didn't seem to hold a candle to its genius Canadian counterpart. Then again we didn't explore too much of the town. But I sure didn't see a giant Frankenstein on top of a Burger King like I did in Canada. That whole street might very well be the best place on the planet.
Happiest Place On Earth?
The rest of the trip home was spent avoiding murder hotels like "The Red Carpet Inn" (I wonder why the carpets are so red? Murder?), trying to find Castleton from Time Chasers (which turned out to be in Vermont) so that we could get that sweet shirt, and mooing at cows.
It was an excellent adventure. And I like excellent adventures, so it all worked out.
When I was just a pint-sized towhead, my mother would bring me and my brothers to a great, dusty little video store near our building. In retrospect, it was really a cool little place. This was a time before Blockbuster and Hollywood Video monopolized the video rental business. Ages before netflix. Ages before people even had computers at home. Dinosaurs roamed the earth. I know. I feel old too.
From what I remember, this place was about the size of my current bedroom. It was filled wall to wall with VHS tapes of all genres. It was run by a couple of old creeps who also ran a fix-it shop for electronics in the back of their store. My mom claims they were usually watching porno on their TV back there. I also heard they sold drugs back there, so you shouldn't feel too bad for them and how they fared during the death of the old fashioned video store. They seemed to have plenty to fall back on, between fixing your stereo speakers or selling you a bag of weed. I was oblivious to all of this though, on account of being a little kid. I was too busy looking at all the horror movie boxes when my mom wasn't paying attention. Actually, toward the tail end of our patronage of that fine establishment, before Hub Video became the new video store for our family, I remember being mesmerized and staring at the Jason Takes Manhattan poster they had. It was awesome. In fact, here it is!
That poster is so much cooler than the movie. But that is another story for another time . . .
Even though the store was pretty small, they crammed a lot of options in there. Judging by the two guys who ran the place it wasn't surprising that the children's section was about eight videos on a bottom shelf by the counter. And of course directly across from them were the "adult" videos. It actually made sense in such a genius way. I never noticed there were pornos there because I was facing the kid videos. And since they were right by the counter, the weird video guy could just reach over and grab a tape with boobies on it for his VCR. It was so simple and it apparently worked. The rest of the store was populated by everything else a dingy eighties video store had to offer. If I had a time machine I would enjoy that place a lot more now. Then again, if I had a time machine I would hopefully be stopping John Wilkes Booth or something instead of visiting a 1980s video store, but whatever. I don't have a time machine and neither do you so get off my back.
So what does this have to do with live music? Well I'm glad you asked. The video selection for kids was pretty limited. Of the few videos for my age group half of them were girly, so that really left me with minimal options. Rather than delve into videos about ponies or rainbows I stuck with my gut instinct: socks with eyes. There were two tapes that were repeatedly rented by my mother at my behest. It alternated between an episode of Fraggle Rock (in which Boober and Wembley played hide and seek) and an episode of the Muppet Show with Alice Cooper. As a kid I was fascinated by anything Halloween-y (not much has changed) and this Muppet Show tape was the cat's pajamas. Check out this clip:
Tell me you don't get at least a little excited when his freaky muppet band materializes out of nowhere as the music kicks into gear. This tape was my only exposure to Alice Cooper for most of my childhood. I didn't really start buying his albums and listening to him until my late teens. People sometimes let his theatrics overshadow the songs and just lump him in as some gimmicky performer, but the songs and the musicians deserve more credit than they get. The music was always changing like a chameleon with the times, so it is one of those cases where each album is almost like a pop culture time capsule.
Albums like Brutal Planet and Dragontown came out in the early 2000s. They are not bad, I like them and listen to them, but they just didn't seem as fun. There are obvious exceptions, like "Disgraceland," but the atmosphere of these albums felt a little more pessimistic. One of the songs is actually called "Pessi-Mystic." There are probably reasons for these thematic changes. It gets harder to shock the public after years of exposure and desensitization. And with guys like Marilyn Manson infiltrating the mainstream, Alice probably felt the need to harden his style. But it really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. He was just putting out what the pop culture was already saturated with: angry sounding industrial-ish songs.
In 2003, maybe because of the rise of garage style rock bands, or maybe just because he felt like it, Alice Cooper got some guys together and recorded a pretty straightforward rock n roll garage album, The Eyes of Alice Cooper. It's pretty good but not as good as its 2005 follow up, Dirty Diamonds. The band is great and so are the songs. It was while he was touring promoting this album that I finally got a chance to see him play live.
Now onto the actual show!
On October 29, 2006, I got to see the kind of concert I had seen videos and dvds of for years. And it delivered. It had to. It was his Halloween show. It wasn't as sloppy and riotously dangerous as some of the shows from the 70s, but it had all the right elements of musicianship and showmanship. Not seeming restrained by age or sobriety, Alice Cooper put on a great show.
The show was at the Orpheum and our seats were up in the balcony. Great spot for people watching which can be as much fun as the actual show you go to see. Before the opener, Wednesday 13, went on we were all scoping the crowd counting "Alices." I'm not sure if it was because it was almost Halloween or if people do this at all the shows, but there were quite a few Alice impersonators roaming around. My favorite was "Fat Alice Cooper." His costume wasn't necessarily the best but his presentation was just so eye grabbing. He was enormous, had long curly black hair, the eye paint, and a little black top hat. As I surveyed the crowd I spotted a dead ringer for Vigo the Carpathian from Ghostbusters 2. I should probably have a camera with me at all times to document things that nobody but me finds amusing.
The crowd was filling up with mostly middle aged people who probably used to rock at some point. Some of them were still hanging on to it but others had clearly settled down years ago. This didn't bode well for Wednesday. Theoretically Wednesday 13 and Alice Cooper go together like fat guys and buffets but there was no way the majority of this crowd was going to appreciate Wednesday's excessive uses of the F-word and flagrant disregard for morals! The band played great. The sound was a little problematic at times but they had it all sorted out after a few songs. This was about two years ago so my memory is a little blurry. I remember seeing some middle-aged eye rolls but overall the crowd wasn't bad. I think Wednesday won them over for the most part. Those he didn't win over were as shocked as their parents probably were when they saw Alice Cooper on the news thirty years prior.
For a guy who was (I think) 58 at the time, Alice Cooper put on a great show. He put on a great show for a guy any age. Full on stage show with the guillotine and everything people would expect and want when they bought a ticket. I always found it interesting to hear Alice's 80's band play slightly more metal-centric versions of the old songs in live recordings, and now I was able to hear his current garage style band playing songs like "Feed My Frankenstein" (and I think they played "Poison") more stripped down and without synths. They did a great job and played a lot of old stuff. They did the "Steven" story which I did not expect but totally welcomed.
The stage show was exciting, full of costumes and props. You could see the guillotine looming ominously on stage, draped in black, waiting to be unveiled. Alice's daughter Calico was the main dancer throughout the show and she did a good job, particularly during "Sunset Babies" and "Wish I were Born in Beverly Hills," where she played a Paris Hilton character obnoxiously parading around the stage. I think she was also the one who had the honors of beheading Alice on stage. I was psyched to see the guillotine live and in person. Unfortunately it was one of the only disappointments of the night. Even though Alice Cooper has had his head cut off in a guillotine a thousand times, he jumped the gun and dropped pretty early so his "severed" head lowered out of sight well before the blade fell. It didn't look that good. Oh well.
In addition to the on-stage theatrics, there was a show going on in the crowd as well. Our seats had a good view of both. The second show I'm talking about was played by drunk "sexy" dancers who would stand up between you and your view of the stage to slither and gyrate. When I say "'sexy' dancers" I do not mean to imply that they are dancers who happen to be sexy. In this case I mean middle age ladies who are too inebriated to realize that they shouldn't be wearing what they are wearing because they are not actually as visually appealing as their blurred senses of reality might lead them to believe. Classic sights. This one repeat offender in the front row of the balcony went on an epic journey of annoyance and dancing that I could write a small book about. So many elements were involved in her story: a drunk jealous boyfriend who had a ticket for a different section who kept coming over to grind and make out, angry people in their 40s complaining that her dancing was impeding their enjoyment of the rock n roll theatrics, several warnings by a mustached usher, and finally her ejection from the theater after baring a bit too much of her rear end (all of it). Hilarious stuff. I would have been mad if it ruined the show, but honestly it made the whole thing even more fun.
The whole night was a lot of fun. I saw some great bands and some entertaining people. And looking back on it, I'm surprised how many stupid details I remember about the night, but couldn't even give you a set list if I tried or lied. Well, I guess I like stupid details. I better go work on that time machine.
Urge Overkill played the Middle East last week, so I decided to write a review. I'm making this a "volume I" because there are a few other concerts I wanted to write about at some point on here such as the 2006 Alice Cooper show and my upstate New York adventure that resulted in an unexpected visit to Slash's Snakepit.
Urge Overkill's Saturation was the third cd I ever bought, preceded only by Dookie and Pork Soda, and they were one of the first bands that I felt compelled to acquire everything they recorded. Unfortunately they split up one album after I discovered them. But luckily for us they seem to be back on track and playing shows.
The openers were The Rudds and Suffrajett. The Rudds were a pretty straight forward rock band with a few soul songs that didn't really work as well as the upbeat rock tunes. The male singer was trying to channel Chris Robinson at times. But they sounded tight and professional in spite of a shuffled band line up seeing the drummer fill in on bass for the show. And plus it was cool to see Eddie Roeser just sitting around checking out the music and Nash Kato wandering about the place.
Up next were Suffrajett who were more sloppy and chaotic than The Rudds but definitely not in a bad way. They were starting as the Red Sox were finishing up on the bar's TV. By the time the singer finished tuning up her electric violin and was into the first song, Jason Varitek was hitting a walk off single garnering cheers from the patrons, cheers which she acknowledged were not for her. Since the game was over (and with a positive outcome) more folks turned their attention to the stage. The singer was wearing a skirt that was shorter than my attention span, the music was good, and the place was getting a little more crowded. It was starting to feel like more of a rock show (no offense to The Rudds). But I was still a little disappointed by the amount of people who had turned out at this point.
Suffrajett left the stage after what seemed to be a walk out by the bass player, leaving behind a shrugging drummer. They came back out and played one more song. After their set was done, my brother and I headed up towards the bar to survey the area. From there I was happy to see that the place was getting more crowded. It wasn't packed but it was good to see people coming out. We headed back down to get a better view before Urge Overkill came on stage.
They opened with "Positive Bleeding" and we were on our way. Since I had never seen them live before and this was sort of a reunion tour, I was unsure what kind of variety they would play. They played "The Candidate" which I expected but they also played "What's this Generation Coming To?" which I didn't expect. Granted I have no criteria on which to base these expectations. Either way I was glad to hear "Generation." Also a lot of stuff from Saturation and Exit the Dragon and it all sounded fresh. I'm ready for a new Urge Overkill CD. And so was the guy next to me. He was going bananas and kept screaming for them to play "Crackbabies" which unfortunately they didn't.
Speaking of a new CD, Roeser said they will be recording one soon, "God willing." Other than that he didn't say much and it was Nash Kato who did most of the interacting with the fans. Aside from making a "Henhough" reference/tease, he introduced a new song, dedicating it to a fan who yelled for "new songs." He called the guy a "jackass," they played it, and then he playfully told the guy to "step off." Touche. (actually it just turned up on youtube, here)
I was psyched to be hearing the soundtrack of my highschool years being played live and everybody popped for "Sister Havana," but for me the best song of the night was "The Break." No reason in particular, they just played the shit out of that song. "Last Night/Tomorrow," "Take Me," "Erica Kane" and "Stalker" were really good, too. As I said, the setlist was mostly from the last two albums. Very little if any at all from Americruiser/Jesus Urge Superstar. They ended the show with "Heaven 90210." At least I hope that was the end. Because the lights came on and I had a train to catch so I split.
The band sounded really good. There is a new drummer and a bass player. I always wondered how they played live before, if they had a touring bass player or what. Blackie isn't currently in the band. I'm sure there are reasons for absences that conspicuous and I'm not going to speculate as to what they might be.
Anyway, I had alot of fun at the show and I'm looking forward to a new Urge Overkill cd at some point. And on a complete side note, on my train ride home I saw a homeless guy at Park Street dressed like the FedEx Pope. I like seeing bands and I like seeing the Fedex Pope. Good times!
Never before has chewing gum been so exciting! When I was a kid I always found this commercial interesting. There is just so much to digest in that 30 second advertisement. It really goes for the gold at trying to appeal to all of your senses. There is the awesome theme song, the visual bombardment of exciting action and smiling friends having "good times," and they even acted out the process of sniffing a stick of the delicious Juicy Fruit. But I always felt as if this commercial wasn't for me. I was clearly not the demographic. The people in this commercial were the bad guys in every movie I saw growing up. A beaming gaggle of douche bags in sweaters on skis. That might as well have been Billy Zabka up there on the screen personally breaking my skis while telling me that I'll never finish the big race, all while smooching the leg-warmered girl of my dreams. What a bully. Lucky for me I didn't have any skis!
There is just something so great about the people in this commercial. A heaping truck load of Blake's, Bryce's, and Muffy's comes screaming up to the mountain for a fine day of skiing, smiling, avoiding black people, and chewing some gum. And at about 5 seconds in we catch a glimpse of a denim-clad meathead who, if this commercial were stretched to a feature length story of gum and excitement, would be the comic buffoon with a cool nickname like "Moose." He would have been my favorite character, what with all his mishaps and shenanigans.
I think their leader, the true heel of the story, the one who beats his girlfriend the hardest, would have to be the Hasselhoff look-alike who takes that vulgar sniff of the Juicy Fruit package as it's raked under his nostrils. I think it would be a safe bet that at some point, before or after this commercial was made, that guy had an amazing mustache and that he most likely committed date rape in a jeep.
Even though the scenario in this commercial involves young, rich white people, there is a common denominator that lets us all enjoy it equally and pine for a good chew session. And that is the epic soundtrack. I don't know if there is a sanctioned body that judges or ranks these things but this has to be one the all time best commercial jingles. The music will stick in your head all day, like a chewy wad of Juicy Fruit stuck to your gray matter. And lyrically it hammers home just how exciting this product is. It preaches a doctrine of savoring your Juicy Fruit, not just chomping it all willy-nilly. "Take a sniff." Indulge in it's decadence. "Pull it out." No. Slowly.
And then they blow your mind. They present the viewer with a maneuver that the normal man has been trying to replicate for decades: the bending gum stick insertion! Man I bet that taste is gonna move her. But it only seems to work on TV. I remember dozens of kids trying this with the concrete gum that came in packs of baseball cards and it only resulted in tears and bloodied tongues.
Once that gum has been sniffed, pulled, and popped into a mouth, those yuppies burst into gravity defying feats of downhill glory. That's the power of gum, or at least the power of Juicy Fruit. I heard a rumor that it's gonna move you. And then the commercial ends with Chester sticking an excellent landing and thowing his arms up in triumph. If he hadn't chewed the big JF his legs would have shattered like glass. More commercials should rock this hard.
And by the way, if this mountain is anywhere near Camp Crystal Lake all of these people are dead. Not even Juicy Fruit can stop Jason. And these folks look like Jason magnets. I'm going to miss "Moose."
I don't even like gum all that much. But I like this commercial.
I'm no Sasquatch expert. I might not even be considered a Sasquatch enthusiast. I don't own any books on Sasquatch. I have never seen Sasquatch in real life. I don't necessarily believe in Sasquatch. But I definitely love this footage:
This classic clip from 1967 is known as the "Patterson film." For centuries people have sought tangible evidence of Sasquatch's existence and back in '67 this video shook the Sasquatch fanatics to their collective core. It is Sasquatch at his absolute best. Actually . . . strike that. THIS is Sasquatch at his absolute best: click here to see Sasquatch at his absolute best.
Anyway, I like the idea of some giant ape-like creature hiding in the depths of the wilderness just so he can have the privacy to walk around like a middle aged guy getting the paper.
There is also an element of the unknown that we are losing as time goes by and this video represents some of the last remaining fibers people are clinging to just to hold onto it. Allow me to take you on a brief jaunt down History Street. At one point in history the earth ended at the horizon. Then somebody took a boat past the horizon and came back. It was proclaimed interesting by all and further research began.
Since then we've been to the moon but not to the deepest depths of our own ocean. And that's enough of a shred of mystery to allow people to believe that there is still something to be discovered in our own world. Like a balding man to his last remaining hairs, we carefully hold on to and groom these hopes that there are still discoveries left to be made. Discoveries like a furry man-thing taking leisurely constitutionals through the remotest hills of North America in order to avoid the general public.
And why wouldn't he want to avoid people. All we apparently try to do to this guy is capture him/kill him for research (worst case scenario), take his picture and bug him when he's tryin to get his litter to Sasquatch school (best case scenario) or try to collect his droppings for documentation (weird case scenario). If I were Sasquatch, I would hide too. And if I needed some quick cash because Squatchie Jr needed braces I would sell my feces to science. Because who is going to believe anything a scientist says while he's holding poop? I guess people should just get off Sasquatch's back for awhile and he'll come by if he needs to borrow something.
And besides, if it was not for Sasquatch there would be no Harry and the Hendersons. And without Harry and the Hendersons where would we be? Now I don't want to be a wet blanket, but I never really liked this movie. I don't dislike it, I just wish there was no plot. And no Hendersons. If the movie was just Harry it would have probably won an Oscar (Boy is my face red. I just did a little research and this movie DID win an Oscar. Congratulations Rick Baker on winning 1988's best makeup award and for making me look like an ass). But on the other hand, if the movie didn't exist as is, then we wouldn't have this scene:
(I apologize for the quality. Only one person was cool enough to post this scene on youtube)
I suppose we still could have had that scene if the movie was just Harry. Imagine it. A full length movie of Harry, a sasquatch, doing things. And I like things.
By the way, the fact that Harry and the Hendersons won an oscar for best makeup only reinforces my point about the movie only needing to be Harry. Because I doubt they gave Rick Baker an award for getting John Lithgow all dolled up.
I suppose my point after all of this is that Sasquatch is funny. I like Sasquatch. Get off his back.
Is it a bad thing to plug another blog when I haven't really started this one? Well I've always enjoyed living on the edge so I'm going to do it. I'm a real rebel. One time I sat myself at a restaurant before waiting to be seated. I'm dangerous.
The blog I want to spotlight is about one of my many passions: The Face. If I wrote Webster's Dictionary or Webster's Official Rule Book On Awesome Pictures then the following entry would be found within their pages:
At its most pure, The Face is a wide open mouth with a wide open pair of eyes, staring off camera at quarter profile . . . and ruining someone's picture. "The Face" can strike anywhere and at anytime. Variations and personal nuance, such as face direction, can be incorporated to add an element of individuality to one's own "The Face." There are a few rules to consider, however.
Firstly: no stuck-out tongues.
Secondly: minimal anger. Intensity over emotion or pain is key. Besides, it's hard to get those big round eyes while furrowing one's brow.
Thirdly: Let's keep it family friendly. (You would be surprised what comes up when you google "open mouth.")
Fourthly: Have a great time doing your very own "The Face!"
The site is an ongoing collection of "The Face" pictures and it's updated frequently. And everyday, as it grows bigger, it comes closer and closer to being the best thing on the internet. It's definitely the reason for the internet's existence, anyway. I like hyperbole.
I like things. I like movies and music and books and people and most anything else that can be classified under such a broad word as "things." I suppose I could have called this "I LIKE STUFF," but I thought of the other title first. And it's too late to change that now.
I haven't exactly figured out what this is going to be, as far as format and structure are concerned. So if any of you who have decided to read my ramblings would bear with me as I further derail my train of thought, I would appreciate it.
I guess I'm just going to write about movies and music and whatever else seems to be occupying my short attention span. They probably won't be reviews as much as cases of me spewing too many words about a part in a movie that I rewound forty times the other night and nobody else will care about. Like in Die Hard when Theo yells, "The quarterback is toast!" I'll probably tell you about that. Maybe I'll have a section called "Unsung Heroes" in which I'll write about characters like him, the ones who deserve a little more recognition. Or maybe I'll just get bored and make a sandwich. I like things. And sandwiches are certainly things.
