Ode to Randy Travis:

I'm sure by now we've all heard the story about country music star Randy Travis
and his drunken adventure.  The following parody song, to the tune of Travis' hit
single "I'm Gonna Love You Forever"  is not so much to make fun of him, but to
state the facts of the story to one of his own ditties.

You may think that I'm drunk and foolish. 
Passed OUT naked in my Trans Am. 
But officer please, when the media sees, they won't understand that's just the way that I am. 
I'm just a hillbilly singer.  I don't know when I've had enough. 
If you look you will find, that I drink 'til I'm blind.
and then I write a song that the hillbillies love. (and baby)
I'll be a redneck forever.  Forever and ever, amen. 
I'll get hammered at the bar and when the cops find my car,
I'll threaten to shoot them if they try to run me in. 
You may wonder why I'm such a dumbass. 
I'll be happy to tell you again. 
I'm just a redneck.  A hillbilly redneck. 
Forever and ever....AY-HAY-EE-AY----MEN!

Class of 2012:   SI-LUTE!!!

Over the weekend, I attended the High School graduation of my son Casey. A milestone for him, and for me…another reminder of my rapidly advancing age.  As friends and family packed themselves into the gymnasium for this event, we settled into our seats and anxiously awaited the festivities to come.  I knew that over the next hour or so, my mind would run the gamut of emotions; pride, sadness, elation, etc… I just didn’t think that “pissed off” would be one of them.

I will say that I am overly sensitive to crowds that don’t know how to conduct themselves, but generally those that I occasionally deal with are in places where alcohol plays a prominent role in the behavior of those in attendance.  I don’t like it, but I guess I understand. 

The first to speak was the school’s principal.  It’s early in the game and I’m already set to blow a gasket as the attendees are carrying on their high volume conversations.  Having all too often been on the receiving end of this type of greeting, I find that my patience is already at zero.  “Hey!  There’s a person up there talking!  What the hell is it going to take to get some fucking focus?  What the hell do you have to blab about that’s more important than what’s being said on that platform?  We are here for a graduation, right? Shut your hole and respect the fact that a human being is on that stage because your child/friend/relative/whatever is graduating High School!”

Ok, it quiets down just in time for a very important announcement: “Please hold your applause until all the graduates have been announced, and please refrain from using any loud horn like devices (sad that this even needs to be said) so that each graduate can be given their due respect and that their name can be heard.”

And we’re off.  The names are being called alphabetically and people are relatively quiet.  We’re still in the A’s.  Little by little, the attention challenged contingent starts to break the rules a bit and by the time we’ve reached the D’s, it seems that more than half of the names mentioned are greeted with assorted hoots, hollers and the ever classy imitations of a dog barking.  We get mid alphabet and it’s as if there were no rules at all.  The air horns are now being blown after select mentions.  One in particular so deafening that it actually evoked response from the crowd, yes LAUGHTER!  Huge laughs for this “comical” stunt.

“Aint that hilarious?  Jim Bob done blew a horn when they gradumated the fruit of his loins” YEE-HAH!!!!!!!!!!  Let’s have a hoe down!  I’m might tempted to do a do si do with my sister right here in the gym-nay-zeem!  Get out the white lightnin’ Charlotte, we gonna have a di-ploma in our house!

Where the hell am I, a monster truck rally?  Why is this now acceptable behavior?  How far have we come as a society that a moment of academic fulfillment is rewarded by howling, barking, and fucking air horns?  Not only is it inappropriate, backwoods and embarrassing, IT WAS SPECIFICALLY STATED AT THE OUTSET THAT IT WAS NOT PERMITTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe if Boss Hog had grabbed his bullhorn and let the townfolk know that blowing them there noisemakers would be more welcome than a pig in shit, I’d have no reason to complain, but God Damn it, they asked you to keep it quiet.  How about the family of the kid whose name didn’t get heard because Uncle Vester thought it best to launch his rafter rattling air raid warning loud enough for six counties to hear?  How about them?  Does that kid matter?  I think he does.  I think celebrating is just fine, but my thought would be to wait until you get back to the cabin and then shoot the bottle rocket out of your penis, Buford.   I think they sell dictionaries at the dollar store.  I’d be happy to spring for one.  Then you can look up the words “respect” and “reverence”  

Then again, maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe I need to embrace the direction our society is heading.  Maybe next year, we get Larry The Cable Guy as a keynote speaker.  Maybe the valedictorian can light a fart to signify the start of the battle of the air horns.  This all sounds like fun.  But before we can commence with the commencement, our young uns gots to

GIT ‘R DONE!!!

***this obviously was not intended to offend anyone but the guilty.  You know who you are.

So Long, Carlos.

So Carlos Zambrano is gone.  Traded to the Miami Marlins.  And Cubs fans feel…how???

I’m picking up on a whole lot of “Good Riddance” style comments.  Really?  Maybe we are talking about two different guys, but the Carlos Zambrano I watched for parts of eleven seasons in a Cubs uniform was easily one of my all time favorites.  I was there when Carlos made his big league debut against the Milwaukee Brewers in 2001.  I could see then that he was different, and that he had a true love for the game.  He was young and fired up.  He was impressive.

Carlos Zambrano is a talented pitcher.  Outside of Hall of Famer Fergie Jenkins, and Cooperstown bound Greg Maddux, you’d be hard pressed to find a more effective Cubs pitcher in our lifetime.  His passion for his team, the Chicago Cubs, was unparalleled.  He wanted what we wanted, and he wanted it as badly as we did.  He wanted the Cubs to win.  He was driven and he was honest; honest to a fault.  He didn’t always think before he responded.  He didn’t always take the best approach.  He didn’t always make the right choices and yes, he had a ridiculously bad temper.  But what was it that ignited his fury?  One thing: Cubs losses!  I feel his pain. 
I’ll say this.  At least he cared!  His methods were out of line, no question.  But was he wrong about that which infuriated him?  In an era where baseball players, who are making more money in a month than most of us can imagine in a lifetime can just show up and run through the motions, Carlos Zambrano wanted to earn his keep.  When he didn’t play up to his own standards, he was enraged.  He was mad at himself!  I’m not going

to list his career numbers, but if you doubt for one minute that he was anything less than one of baseball’s best over the last decade, you can look it up.

http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/z/zambrca01.shtml

I do understand that the new regime is moving in a different direction, and I am confident in their abilities.  I guess I’m just having a difficult time understanding  how trading a quality pitcher, who is only 30 years old, and still more than serviceable, for Chris Volstad.  I realize that his salary is hefty, and if this were simply a salary dump, I would find this easier to digest, but to pay virtually all of the money to have him pitch in Miami does not make sense to me in any form.  For the Marlins, it’s a WIN WIN WIN!!!  Zambrano is in the final year of his

contract.  If Miami finds themselves out of the race, Carlos can then become a very attractive trading chip that yields legitimate prospects in return.   Something the non-contending Cubs could use come July.  Why not keep the guy you are paying, and then trade him when he might actually be able to command something significant in return? 

On a personal note, I found Zambrano to be very cordial and accommodating.  Any occasion when I was given the opportunity to speak with him; be it before a game or at the Cubs convention, he was happy to give me a minute or two of his time, when many on the field found my antics to be ridiculous (and for the record, they pretty much are) ran the other way, Carlos not only participated, but understood what we were trying to accomplish,

demonstrated a sense of humor and genuine warmth. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4_h3VKWVW0 

I wish him well.  He will always be on my roster of all time favorite Cubs.  I refuse to celebrate this in any way shape or form.

I’ll celebrate when the Cubs win. 

The Song Assassin! The Christmas Shoes.

                          The Christmas Shoes

With the holiday season upon us, I thought the assassination of a holiday song would be appropriate.  “The Christmas Shoes” is a contrived, tear jerking ballad about a young boy who, on Christmas Eve, wishes to buy his mother one last pair of shoes.  The song was recorded by the Christian group NewSong in 2000, and in 2002, a made for TV movie adaptation was produced.  It’s entirely fictional.  THIS IS NOT A TRUE STORY!!!

Here’s the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJcPVB-we7g

It was almost Christmas time so we are somewhere in late Dec.  Ok.
There I stood in another line.  This, to imply that this is not the first line he’s been in today.  This guy is like me.  He waits too long to do his shopping.  He probably, like me, doesn’t go for all that “Black Friday” bullshit.  Getting up at 4am to wrestle with soccer moms over the last IPAD, Smart phone or Call of Duty giftcard.  “I’ll shop on my terms” thought the guy in the song.  Good for him!
Trying to buy that last gift or two look at this guy.  He doesn’t even know how many gifts he’s supposed to get.
Not really in the Christmas mood.  Can’t blame him here either.  You can’t just turn it on like a switch.  Just because “Dolly Parton’s Mountains Christmas” is on ABC Family, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m feeling it.
Standing right in front of me
Was a little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing around like little boys do Maybe he wants to ask the cashier where the bathroom is.
And in his hands he held
A pair of shoes

And his clothes were worn and old
He was dirty from head to toe if this were me, I’d just assume that the young fella was currently appearing in the local community’s rendition of “A Christmas Carol” perhaps they’re giving the shoppers at the mall a sampling of what they’re in for if they attend this holiday favorite.  No kid is really that dirty and disheveled.  This must be “Tiny Tim”
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn't believe what I heard him say

Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?  Isn’t that something?  Little guy’s on break and instead of heading over to the food court for some Sbarro, this kid’s getting some shoes for his mom.  Wow!  Maybe I am starting to feel it a bit.  I think really it’s probably a combination of Dolly’s Mountains and this young thespian.  Neither one of these alone can get it done, but the combination of the two is starting to move me.
Daddy says there's not much time.  Oh, I see, his dad, the stage father sent him over to pick up the Reeboks.  “Ok Tyler, why don’t you head over to Penney’s and get them shoes.  You don’t have to do your scene again until 6.  Daddy’s gonna head over to Won Ton Express for some free Chicken Teriyaki on a stick.  I’ll do that thing where I pretend that I just might buy some if I try it, but there’s no way in hell I’m really going to. 
You see, she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
and I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus, tonight.  If she meets Jesus tonight?  Tell you what, son.  If your mom has been sick for awhile, and it sounds kind of like she’s still sick, then maybe she doesn’t need to see her Hispanic boyfriend tonight.  Maybe she’ll feel better and she can make it up to Jesus (Hay-soos) on New Year’s Eve.

He counted pennies for what seem like years
and cashier says son there's not enough here aren’t you taking this Tiny Tim thing a little too far, kid?  Yeah, maybe a pair of shoes cost three cents in 1843, but times change Timmy.  Times change.
He searched his pockets franticly for what?  The other three pennies he must have lost?  Maybe he was robbed by another anachronistic character.  Maybe it was a 19^th century pickpocket with a cockney accent who grabbed everything he had on his left side, but couldn’t get the three pennies on the right.
And he turned and he looked at me ok, here it comes…
He said Momma made Christmas good at our house
though most years she just did without.  Tell me Sir
what am I gonna do?  I don’t know kid but you can start by not talking to strangers.  Didn’t your barefoot mom teach you anything?
Some how I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes

They are Christmas shoes?  So do you go out panhandling every holiday for shoes?  Boy, you should see the pumps I got some stranger to buy Mommy last Armistice Day! 

So I laid the money down SUCKER!!!
I just had to help him out
and I'll never forget
the look on his face The look of disbelief when he realized that you had actually bought his story? When he said Momma's gonna look so great.

Repeat God awful chorus

I knew I caught a glimpse of heavens love as he thanked me and ran out. That’s one way to look at it. 
I know that God had sent that little boy to remind me
What Christmas is all about that or you just got ripped off by an eight year old con artist.

Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time
You see she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight

If you really need a pair of shoes that badly, why don’t you just roll dice like everybody else does? (Momma needs a new pair of shoes!)

I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight

So the moral here is:  Jesus won’t look too kindly on you if you show up without shoes.  That makes two reasons why David Carridine is probably not in heaven.

Greg Smith: Behind The Scenes

                  Greg Smith:  Behind The Scenes

With Halloween almost here, I find myself excited about the prospect of portraying one of my favorite characters. 

Here is one of my most enjoyable and memorable Greg Smith pieces, though it is a lesser seen bit:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNoOKIWlIys 

This one was not as well received as the previous Greg appearance, but to me it was as much fun to shoot and edit as anything I’ve ever done (and not just because I got to share a coffin with April Rose).  So much goes into something like this, and the behind the scenes moments are unforgettable. Sometimes the unexpected happens and in my opinion, the funniest stuff ends up on the cutting room floor. 

We set up the visit first by calling the casket store.  Bill, the gentleman who appears in the video was fine with having us come and shoot our “little sketch” there and even willing to appear in it.  We arrive, I start with my makeup, cameraman Steve Scheuer sets up and my friend Jeff Hoover cases the joint to look for what gags we might be able to pull off.  Bill is very cordial and helpful and answers all of our questions.  “How often do people come in to look at caskets?” we asked him.  “Not often” says Bill, which makes sense as this is a bit of a specialty type outlet.  He told us that at times, he would just sit there for hours and even days before someone would come in.  “They never drive over and stop in?”  “Not since I’ve been here.” Says Bill.  It’s now pretty much just and appointment only type of thing.  This made me feel better.  Imagine the feeling should some grief stricken relative of a recently deceased stop in looking for just the right coffin while I’m decked out like Bela Lugosi on a bender.

WELL GUESS WHAT??? 

I finish with probably the worst makeup job on record; I’ve got the blood on my mouth, a widow’s peak and bow tie, I slip into my cape and walk to the front.  The timing could not have been more perfect as I get to the reception desk just as a CUSTOMER enters the store.  Our eyes meet.  Nothing is said (though I did consider asking “May I help you?”) A momentary pause takes place which seems to last for an eternity.   I do the awkward move where you hold up the index finger as if to say, “just a minute” and I retreat to the back room, “Uh, Bill…you have a customer.”  Steve, Jeff, April and I all stare at each other in shock.  Nobody wants to laugh, but come on!  How nuts is this? I must admit a chuckle did escape as I tried to put a serious face on top of the ridiculous face I’d just assembled on top of my own.  Now it’s one of those moments where you know you shouldn’t laugh but the harder you try not to, the harder it becomes.  How horrible! 

The laughs subsided eventually.  I believe Bill got the sale, and I am happy to report that the customer did have a sense of humor about the whole thing.  Before he left, he asked jokingly, “Hey where did Dracula go?”  Who knows, maybe it gave him a brief moment to smile on one of the worst days of his life… And believing that makes me sleep better at night whether it’s true or not.

Despite the bump in the road, we finished the shoot.  The piece ran once, but like the creature of the night that is Greg Smith, it will live forever!!! (Thanks YouTube).

…and I’m still waiting for my commission.

The Death of a Dick!

                                When a Dick Dies                  

DING-DONG, THE DICK IS DEAD! Moammar Gadhafi has been taken down!  Long time coming, right? Kick ass!!!  I am thrilled not only to learn that he’s dead, but to see that people can put death in perspective and view things case by case.  Death isn’t always a sad thing, and we aren’t obligated to feel anything but what we naturally feel.

When it was reported back in May that Osama Bin Laden was tracked down and killed, it was the first time I’d ever observed elation over a death.  I was thrilled that he was dead, and I was even happier to discover that people were not hiding their joy.  People generally feel obligated to show some sort of reverence when somebody bites it.  Everyone speaks of what a wonderful person he or she was; how this person was always there to lend a hand, always joyful and full of spirit.  It always made me think, “What happens when a dick dies?”  You never see the TV interview where neighbors take turns at the TV microphone, “You know, no one around here particularly cared much for Gary.”  Gary was a prick! I surely hated that Gary!  Gary will not be missed around here.  Gary stole my horseshoes!  Yes, when the history of Gary is written, it will be well documented that Gary was a cock.”

You’ve heard the phrase a million times, “Why do bad things only happen to good people?”  The answer is simple.  Because bad things CAN only happen to good people.  If it happened to a dick, it wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?  “Say did you hear about Hitler’s Jet Ski accident?  They’re not sure if he’ll make it.”  Say, let’s have a luau!

“Well, they executed Gacy last night.”  Seriously?  See if you can find my pointy hat from New Year’s Eve! 

“Boy that was a tough break for Stalin, having that cerebral hemorrhage and all.”  Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.  Throw on some Kool and the Gang!

I’m not saying we should wish death on anyone for any old reason.  We really shouldn’t secretly long for the painful demise of the guy who hit on your girlfriend at that wedding reception back in ‘97.  It’s not particularly rational to wish to end the life of the gal at Arby's who wouldn’t honor your expired coupon.  And it’s a bit much to anxiously await the day that you can urinate on the grave of the asshole driver who “wouldn’t let you over”

But we certainly don’t have to feel any false sense of respect for someone who deserves none.  Bad things CAN only happen to good people, and when they do, it sucks!  Far too many decent human beings are taken away long before their time. But dicks die, too!

Maybe I’m a bad guy for even mentioning this.  Maybe I’m going to hell for even bringing it up.  But, as my friend Jim Higgins used to say, “It’s not like I’m not going to know anybody.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIAo-iFbVe4 

Song Assassin! The Last Song.

Edward Bear was a Toronto based Canadian pop-rock group, formed originally in 1966 by Larry Evoy and Craig Hemming.  Their band name is derived from A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh, whose "proper" name is Edward Bear.
The band had its biggest hit in 1972, when "Last Song" charted at #1 in Canada and peaked at #3 in the U.S. Billboard Hot 100.^[1] It was awarded a gold disc in March 1973 for selling over one million copies by the Recording Industry Association of America.

"The Last Song" is a tale of obsession, stalkery, and stupidity.

Here's the video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1ievU49zAs 

The Last Song

Did you know I go to sleep and
Leave the lights on?  Sissy!
Hoping you'd come by and know
that I was home and still awake

Just a couple of lines into the song and we

Can already see that this guy is pathetic.
But two years go by and still my light's on

Really?  Two things:  1. how many years do you

suppose will have to pass for him to realize what

we have in two lines of a song? Did he say at the beginning, "Ok, I'll give this thing two years and then we'll see where we're at." And 2.  Does he jump in and change the light bulb every time it burns out, or is he some kind of  modern day Edison who has developed the everlasting bulb?  What happens if the bulb burns out after he’s fallen asleep with it still on?  What if the person he is so creepily obsessed with happens to pass by during that short window of time where the bulb has burned out and Edward Bear has nodded off.  That person would then feel as though Edward Bear no longer cares.  This would be a tragedy.

This is hard for me to say but it is all that I can take

Had enough, have you?  What was the deal breaker?

It's the last song I'll ever write for you

Is this to imply that you have written others?  What

were those called?  “The first song?”  Perhaps “Here’s

another Song,” maybe “Time to change the light bulb” or who could forget, “Are you listening to any of my fucking songs?”
It's the last time that I'll tell you just how much I really care  Hey listen, Edward…That would be great!
This is the last song I'll ever sing for you

Again, much appreciated.  It’s not that I don’t dig your vocal stylings, it’s just that my kids are a little weirded out.
You'll come looking for the light
And it won't be there Edward, do you really

think she’ll come looking for the light?  Really?

Come on man, I would think that after TWO YEARS

it’s pretty well determined that this electric vigil you keep referring to bears no significance to your prey.

But I love you. Do you really?
Oh yes I do. Really?
Yes I do

All the times that I spent waiting
wondering where you are.  You know, I could

Probably find the number of a decent therapist.

Always knew the time would come
When I would start to wonder why

And you figured this time would come somewhere

around the two year mark?
Now the time is here
I don't know where you are

Thank God for that.
So I'll write you one more song
But it's the last time that I'll try

That’s what you said last time, when you

wrote that ballad about changing the light

bulb.

Repeat chours:

It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last time that I'll tell you
Just how much I really care
This is the last song I'll ever sing for you
You'll come looking for the light
And it won't be there
But I love you
Oh yes I do
Yes I do

It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you

If this song was written as some sort of joke,

as a way to mock some loser, then hat’s off

to Edward Bear!  I mean, after all, naming your

band after Winnie The Pooh, is kind of funny.  Who knows, maybe there’s a lost recording out there of

Sebastion Cabot reading this classic.  If not, there certainly should be.  My initial thought though, is if there had been a movie written about this song back in 1972, it would have ended with Susan Blakely, Linda Purl, or Karen Valentine getting murdered.  Or perhaps with Martin Sheen sticking a gun in his mouth.