OK, so, he was no Tom Waits, but still, credit where credit is due. The man made some music, as my piano teachers felt compelled to remind me whenever I groused that I wanted to play some modern rock ’n’ roll, not some dead old German dude.
The New York Times has a sampler here.
Yes, it’s still Zappadan, in case you were wondering.
A happy 71st birthday to Tom Waits. This particular autumn is taking a whole lot of leaves; I hope it won’t take him.
* For anyone who isn’t a Tom Waits fan — could such a person exist? — the headline riffs on the title to his song “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis,” from the album “Blue Valentine.”
Yes, it’s that time of year again, and things have become so dire that it became necessary to make documentaries about Frank Zappa and Shane MacGowan to show us how to do it right.
Look here, brother — we’re not jivin’ you with that cosmik debris. Now is that a real poncho or a Sears poncho?
Continuing with our food theme, we consider the tale of three hungry fellas who got busted for boiling a pair of chickens in one of the geothermal features at Yellowstone National Park.
What, there wasn’t a Chik-fil-A in that neck of the peckerwoods? The National Park Service must be too busy kowtowing to the e-bike lobby to take care of important business. When Bubba has to boil his own birds at a campout, goddamnit all to hell anyway, the terrorists win.
Anyway, it proved a pricey meal. According to The Guardian, the three were banned from the park and received fines ranging from $540 to $1,250, plus probation.
And two did a short stretch in the stony lonesome, where the dining is anything but al fresco and the menu less inventive.
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