Limited Set

The trouble with being a Sex Pistols cover band is that the band they imitate only recorded about nine songs --- maybe fourteen if you include Sid Vicious' solo numbers which were, uh, covers. That was enough material for a 1977 performance when the real band played might only get five numbers finished before the club burned down or the police showed up. But in 2006, only dorks like me will go see the phony Sex Pistols. Being 38 and complacent, I'm virtually incapable of requiring a priority police response. So after the band has played its namesakes entire catalogue of songs, it's time for an encore. What is the band supposed to do ? They come out and play Bodies, Pretty Vacant and Anarchy in the U.K. . . . . . again.

Ghetto real estate investing with john_clarke

In most trendy gentrified neighborhoods of Dallas, this historic house would command a cool $200,000. Yuppies love Tudor houses with their high-pitched roofs and quaint charm --- all the more if they're constructed out of cut stone and have a fireplace like this house. But because it's located in a fairly unsavory side of town, this house is priced at a bargain basement $60,000. Check out the half-assed boarded up windows on the left side of the house. That's where Dallas S.W.A.T. officers broke the windows to nab the resident who was cooking crack cocaine in the kitchen. How do I know this? I saw it happen last night on A&E's smash hit reality show Dallas S.W.A.T. The show is kind of crappy, full of all sorts of macho posturing by the cops. But it does offer nice tips on what houses in Dallas may be coming up for sale soon, real cheap.

The Consequences of Waste

I was saddened to hear that Ford had to lay off 30,000 workers and shut down plants. Although I'm a supporter of their product, this news was not surprising at all. When the mainstay of your profit margain is centered on gas hog SUVs and pickup trucks, it's just inevitable that people will stop buying that product when gas prices rise. Since when have gas prices ever really dropped in this country? Yet people kept buying Explorers like gas would always be $1.29 a gallon.

So who do you blame --- Ford for making gas sucking vehicles or the people who keep on buying them until gas prices got outrageous? Ford could and did roll out a more economical SUV in 2002, but nobody bought them until now. On the other hand, the gas mileage on their smaller Ranger pickup truck is still terrible --- like an average of 21 mpg.

Who's dumber, the company or its customers? Both probably.

Communicating With Rock Gods

Doesn't it seems like the real version of Napster was just a dream? Wasn't it just five years ago that I was stealing music with impunity, loading down my hard drive with the likes of Too Much Joy's cover of 2 Live Crew's "The F*** Shop" --- a song that once got the band arrested because they merely played it. But my fondest memory of the now illegal service was that it allowed you to communicate with fellow music freaks who downloaded the same stuff that you did. And sometimes, you'd run across people who actually made the music themselves.

I downloaded nearly every song possible by a mid-80's British pop band called The June Brides. The June Brides did this wonderful jangly guitar pop that was backed by a brass section. Their sound really stood out, even during an era when The Smiths were ruling England with their own brand of catchy meloncholy. But the June Brides never got a decent record deal and faded after doing about two albums worth of work. While downloading some of their now impossible to find stuff, I got a message from a guy whose screen name was "PWilson." Indeed, it was Phil Wilson, the former lead singer of the long forgotten June Brides. He thanked me for taking an interest in his band. And he said that he was now married with a kid and worked as a "tax clerk" or something equally non-musical and boring in London. I asked him if his band was ever going to release their stuff again and he said a deal was in the works.

Years later, that record deal finally came through. And the album contains every glorius song they ever recorded, included some stuff they did for the John Peel's legendary radio show.

In honor of Phil, who didn't bitch when I stole his music on Napster and actually thanked me for listening, I will soon purchase "Every Conversation: The History of the June Brides & Phil Wilson." And thanks for making genius music Phil.

Seeing The Light

I watch a lot of movies. But much like my hunger for music, my movie obsession comes packaged with some snobbery baggage. I won't pay money for a crap product. And I also won't pay for something that is not likely going to grab me for one reason or another. So the choice to see a movie in the theater for me is like preparing for surgery --- I do my homework well in advance to avoid a bloody mess.

Sometimes my overthinking movies causes me to miss great ones. That was the case last night when --- finally --- I saw Million Dollar Baby on cable. There are two reasons I haven't seen that movie until now. The first and least significant reason is that the name of the movie is off putting. Even dumb. Didn't the New York Dolls do a song with that title, or was it Alice Cooper? Secondly, I had no interest in watching a movie about a chick boxer. I don't watch WNBA games, so why would some movie about foxy boxing be any good?

Oh, I was so wrong. Million Dollar Baby is exactly the kind of movie I love --- an incredibly written character drama that's depressing as hell. I f'ing hate movies with happy endings because life is rarely about happy endings. I like movies that stay with me after I watch them. Some people like movies as pure escapism. But for me, I can't escape unless I'm so sucked in I have no reason to look at my watch.

So Lawrence of Arabia is sitting on my living room table. My reasons for not watching this movie is its famously long and it's about some English dude in the desert. Here's to being wrong again.

Disturbing Revelation

Television advertising for pharmaceutical products really catches my attention. You know how every product that requires a prescription also come with a very hastily read list of legal warnings about the product that is usually read in a cheery voice? Well listen closely, and you'll hear some fascinating stuff. Last night I saw a commercial for a product designed to keep the eyeballs moist for people who have trouble producing tears. The legal part ran through a bunch of warnings --- consult your doctor if . . . . Then it said "do not use if you have herpes of the eye." You mean people get herpes in their eyes! I thought you just got herpes on the mouth or on the privates. How would one go about getting herpes of the eye? Oh gross --- I just thought of some ways.

More Transvestite Tales

I used to date this girl who lived in an old apartment in the predominately gay district of Dallas. She lived there because the rent was cheap and it was a relatively safe place for a single girl to live. Before dating her, I was completely unfamiliar with Dallas' gay area and its goings on for obvious reasons.

One night, I left her place about 1 a.m. to head back to my place in East Dallas. I got in my car and walking right past me were two transvestite hookers. I didn't even know there was a market for that sort of thing in Dallas. So I'm staring at them for an uncomfortably long time because of the pure spectacle of it all. Then one of them turns around. He/she flips her hair on her cheap wig at me as some sort of come on. But she did it so hard that the wig fell off he/she's head.

I called girl when I got home, all excited. "Hey. Did you know there are actual transvestite hookers walking the street outside your place? They wear dresses and wigs and everything!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm quite aware. It's actually quite annoying," she says. "Welcome to Oak Lawn white boy."

Lady Chablis

One of Tara's posts reminds me a beloved character on Gaston Avenue.

Almost every weekend, we used to see this black guy walking in a very deliberate manner --- I mean with purpose --- up and down Gaston in a dress. We're not talking some crazy homeless person who just happened to find a dress in a dumpter and put it on, this guy had on a blonde wig (somewhat askew, which did sort of look crazy) a purse and high heels. This person was not a prostitute as he did not attempt to flag down cars or make eye contact. And let me tell you, this was not an attractive black guy in a dress. Not even Danny Bonaduce would not stop to pick this person up for cheap sex. My gay next door neighbors named him Lady Chablis after the character in "Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil". I have no idea what Lady Chablis' destination was. Maybe he justed wanted an audience for his line of fashion.

I haven't seen Lady Chablis since last summer. Maybe he goes south for the winter and is currently crossing the Texas/Mexico border in a flowing sun dress.

A Question For You Ipod Dorks

Always three years behind technology because of my flagrent cheapness, I finally used a couple of gift cards and bought a MP3 player with a hefty memory. Yeah, I know, where have I been.

So, do most of you usually tote this thing around in your pocket every day? I've brought it to work every day to plug in and tune out my co-workers with about 300 CD's I loaded on it. And I'm not even close to filling up the memory. Oh, sweet sweet technology. But I fear leaving this expensive item on my desk absentmindedly as I hit the exits at 5 p.m. That's just asking for a theft to happen in my shady office building.

Funny, I've got it on random right now and it's playing some music that was loaded on it in the factory. And you know, Chopin's "Waltz in A Flat" is pretty kick ass.

Get Your Goth On Suckers

I just about jumped outa my pants after learning that The Sister of Mercy will be playing my tired town. Again, my musical karma must be good because I'm getting a rare chance to see a band that I never thought was possible to see in the United States --- much like Gang of Four a few months ago.

This show will be a ridiculous scene because The Sisters of Mercy hold an iconic status among any kid who wore black in high school and smeared makeup on their face to get that "sympathetic look." Sisters singer and leader and currently only original member Andrew Eldritch got tagged as the godfather of goth round about 1980. And he still wears that crown. Ask any goth person, and they'll tell ya --- Eldritch is bigger than Robert Smith or Peter Murphy. What I love about the goth hero is that now days, he says the only black he wears are socks. He's constantly bemused that an entire legion of people have built their lives around his band's "week-long clothes bender."

What?

I fully understand that there are problems with the United States criminal justice system. We're chastized internationally for our continued use of the death penalty and harsh treatment of the underclass in criminal proceedings. But one thing our system would never allow is to let the guy who shot the Pope four times, robbed a bank and murdered a journalist, to go free after 20 years!

Eddie Murphy once said: "What's your rationale for shooting the Pope? Maybe the guy figured, 'I want to go to Hell, but I don't want to wait in line. I want to take the Hell express.' "

History Dork

If there's any doubt that john_clarke is a complete history geek, it'll all be confirmed on January 28. On that day, I'll attend a half-day symposium on the History of Dallas crime. It seems as though a bunch of historians are presenting a series of papers on different aspects of Dallas crime. And I can't f'ing wait. The first lecture is named something like this: "Harlots & Hopheads, the history of vice and drugs in Dallas from 1880 to 1950." It starts at 8:15 a.m. On a Saturday. And I will be on the front row at the downtown police department to hear this.

I'm not sure exactly how I got this way. I've always dug Texas history since I was a little kid. I'd write long drawn out history reports in my 4th Grade hand writing about General Santa Ana, the Mexican general who somehow got his butt kicked in the Texas revolution, even though he better equipped soldiers than the Texans and 4 times as many of them. The story goes that all of the Mexican soldiers were taking a siesta when the Texans attacked them at San Jacinto, insuring the Mexican defeat. At least that's what we were taught in elementary school. I now realize that story is likely a bunch of crap. It probably had more to do with the fact that Mexican soldiers were all likely conscripts who just wanted to get back to their wives in Monterrey instead of shooting at a bunch of whisky breathed gringos all day long. They probaly had little invested in this fight.

When I moved back to Dallas after living in Fort Worth, I had been a crime reporter for several years. So my interest in crime was at an all time high, and my interest in history still persisted. I dug the fact that after some research, I could find out all sorts of morose things about the places where I've lived in Dallas. For example in the early 198o's, Dallas police killed a guy who refused to put down a shotgun right in front the house I rented. The guy was half-crazed and got mad at two guys who used to live in the same house as me --- decades earlier. Crazy guy was firing at will at the two guys before DPD put an end to that . . . and the crazy guy. Sure enough, I looked at the side of the house seventeen years later and there were still shotgun pellet marks near the front bedroom.

Now I've taken to running Dallas street names through an newspaper data base to see what happened on them decades earlier. For example, there's couple of really cool old houses that I've always liked on a street called Powhatten just south of downtown. According to the old newspaper stories, Powhatten was the street in the 1930's where people went to score herion. Cops were always dragging "hopheads" out of several tenenment buildings on that street that have long since been bulldozed. To this day, Powhatten and the area around it still sucks as it's now a playground for skid row residents. You can't wash the history of crime off that street, even though it's just blocks from the shiny brand new Dallas Police Headquarters.

So I'll be there at Police HQ on January 20 to get even more hopped up on the dark history of my hometown.

The Carrie Bradshaw Effect

Even though it's been two years since the stupid show ended, I think countless women have been permanently damaged by "Sex And The City." While I hear fewer women playing the irratating game of comparing themselves to women on the show , I still see many females justifying their actions through the characters on SATC.

For example, my favorite idiotic delight on MTV is True Life, a show that captures young Americans in common predicaments. What makes this show so great is the cluelessness of the humans. My favorite guy ever featured on that show was some New Jersey Tony Soprano wannabe named Tommy who was looking for true love in the techno dance clubs on the Jersey shore one summer. He issued a line that I find myself saying all of the time: "Where's My Cheeseballs?"

Anyway, I justed watched another True Life episode about people who were moving to New York City for the first time. One girl was a recent college grad but long-time spoiled brat who moved to the city for her first job. This idiot was fully aware of the cost of a Manhattan apartment, but because her parents were helping her out on rent, she of course had to get the biggest most expensive one. She ordered all kinds of new furniture that I could have never afforded with my first job, and then her parents paid some guy to put it all together. Brat then watched over the furniture assembly guy like he was some sort of sub-human. I'm not sure if she ever went to work, but she sure did shop --- every day, spending $640 on two shirts during one spree. Then she complains to her parents after a night out on the town full Cosmos drinking that she doesn't have enough money for her $500 electric bill. Daddy paid her bill, as you would expect.

I have no doubt that this woman was living out her own Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. "I'll move to NYC and be just like Carrie --- I'll spend outrageous sums of money and be completely carefree and fabulous. Somebody else will have to pick up the pieces of my financial ruin because I'm fabulous damnit!"

I hate this girl. What I hate even more is that she's living out someone else's dream --- a made up character's at that.

Credit card companies probably lamented the day that SATC announced it was ending. But apparantly, they don't have much to worry about. The Carrie Bradshaw effect is enduring.

Gaston Avenue Warning

This morning, I awoke to this.

I think this is subtle warning by the natives of Gaston Avenue. Either I stop bitching about the window rattling sonic boom bass coming from their iron chariots every night, or I could be next.

I think I will assuge the savages by giving them 40 oz. of fire water. Then we'll smoke the chronic peace pipe together.

The Bearded Lady, Day 5

In my 38 years on the third planet from the sun, I've never grown my facial hair out to its full plummage. I mean, I rarely shave on the weekends. And a couple of times, I've let it go for about 2 weeks, usually while on vacation. Then it starts itching too much or I have to attend a function where looking like the 1988 George Michael is frowned upon and out comes the triple blade and the Barbasol.

So to start off the year of our Lord 2006, I'm going with the Van Dyke, or whatever it is they call the facial hair where the sides of the face get shaved.

I figure if I can make to day 20, it's on.