Friday, December 02, 2005

"You look just like a little kid. Are you gonna pee?" Child-like euphoria, 40 years of memories & Macca in concert

Paul McCartney in Concert, Staples Center, Los Angeles, Nov. 29, 2005.

This summer, while returning from a Devo concert, I proudly wore my energy dome. (It cost $30 bucks.I tell you, there’s big money in retro-punk.) A curious cabdriver pulled up beside us. Perplexed by the red plastic contraption on my head, he blurted out to my boyfriend, who was driving, "Is that a pot on her head?” This question has taken on legendary proportions in our household. My BF even has a pic of me wearing an energy dome on his cell phone with the caption “Is that a pot on her head?”

While not as funny as the Devo “pothead” remark, my boyfriend did note that I looked so happy and awestruck as Paul McCartney took the stage at Staples Center last Tuesday that he commented “You look like a little kid. Are you gonna pee?” This carries much more historical significance than the Devo comment, which is merely humorous. My boyfriend is somewhat experienced in all Beatles related endeavors, having seen Paulie in concert before and having met Paul, Ringo and George in person. His Mom took him to see John Lennon in concert in Madison Square Garden when he was a kid. As for me, seeing Paul in concert for the first time after forty years of Beatles and Macca fandom is not merely a musical experience. It is the equivalent (in a good way) of “seeing my life pass before my eyes.” Of course I'm going to get emotional finally seeing and hearing him play the songs that saved my childhood. I’m going to remember the first time I saw the “video” for Penny Lane on American Bandstand , tear up when I hear The Long And Winding Road, which was a hit around the time my parents separated, or remember how I used to use the bed as a trampoline every time I heard Helter Skelter.

The first clue that this wasn’t my usual hip concert was the fact that folks my age or older filed into the loge, carrying tons of concessions with them.. They don’t sell that many burritos at the Lakers games! "What was the crowd like?” my smart-ass cousin April asked, “I envision a lot of people with canes smoking pot.”
“Are you sure you weren’t there?” I replied.
Wait a few years and the people with canes will be replaced by people in oxygen tents. Not sure they’ll still be smoking pot then.

The overhead screen projected some of Paul’s colorful abstract artwork prior to the show. Which started a little late with a masked DJ spinning covers of Beatles songs. There was some speculation among binocular wielding loge fans that this was Paul in disguise but was not. The show began with non-descript set by DJ Freelance Hellraiser. This was followed by 10 minute film of Paulie and Beatles, which featured some rare photo collages. Once the curtain comes up, there’s Paulie and the band, who start the show with Magical Mystery Tour. From where I was sitting, I couldn’t see him close-up but I knew it was him. And there was the screen above the stage to define things a bit and give me a close-up of Paul’s puppy dog eyes. Yeah, he didn’t opt for a facelift and, at the wrong angle, he looks his age. But he still retains that boyish Liverpudlian charm. Thank God for those screens. Back in my day, (cue Dana Carvey’s grumpy old man), "They didn’t have screens and we had to squint through binoculars from the balcony and we liked it!"

It really doesn’t matter what songs he played. There are too many to choose from and they’re all perfect. The set list at the Staples included Drive My Car, Til There Was You, Long And Winding Road, Band On The Run, Live And Let Die, Hey Jude, Let It Be, Fixing A Hole, Good Day Sunshine and about 30 other songs. The acoustic set included the Quarrymen song In spite Of All The Danger, which was bought back from former bandmate John "Duff" Lowe, after 25 years. "We all shared the cost of recording. I had it (the record) for a week, John then had it for a week, then George had it for a week, then Colin had it for a week, then Duff had it for 25 years," Paul explains.

Paul engaged in a lot of between song banter. He told a story about why he decided to use I Will as part of the set again. When a fan he met at a Mexican restaurant in Pasadena told him that his teen-age daughter was performing the song at a talent show, Paul decided to add the song to the show. When a fan on the main floor held up a sign that read “My mom saw you at Candlestick Park " while Paul played the new song Jenny Wren. When the band finished the song, Paul said,“You know, this is a new song so you’re trying to concentrate on the chords with one part of your mind and then you see a sign and one part of your mind is trying to read the sign. So if there are any mistakes, it’s your fault," he joked to the signholder.

Paul’s charismatic band was prominently featured, including drummer Abe, keyboard/music director Wix, drummer Abe and guitarists Rusty and Brian. A wonderful playful evening and no, I didn’t pee, but I did cry a little at times--in a good way.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

TRS Movie Trivia Contest

Wanna win a copy of my short story collection "Seduced & Abandoned & Other Erotic Tales?" Click the link above to enter. The contest is sponsored by The Romance Studio/TRS Blue.

Guess what I'm listening to right now? "Walkin' My Cat Name Dog" by Norma Tanega. I think I'm on replay #7. I love it when I rediscover a song I haven't heard in 30 years. Ya know, I once held the publishing contract for this song in my hands quite lovingly when I worked for the Bournes. I tell you, they didn't know what gems they had hidden in their library. Of course, like they needed to worry about $$, since they owned titles such as"When You Wish Upon A Star" and "Someday My Prince Will Come." The owner, Beebe Bourne, receives a prestigious award from the Songwriters' Hall Of Fame this year.

Beebe Bourne Receives Abe Obnan Publisher's Award from Songwriters' Hall Of Fame

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Mr. Shapiro's Dating Service, Exploding Plastic Boobs & Other Stuff

Yesterday, I found out that a friend of a friend had one of her plastic boobs explode (Ok, it didn't really explode, it just deflated), and now she has to spend $5,000 on a new one. "They don't come with a guarantee," said the surgeon. Now this woman is not trying to make money off her boobs. It's not like she's in porno or she's Tara Reid or something. No she was trying to get her married lover to divorce his wife so she got the boobs. (She's married w/ two young kids and is also anorexic - and 45 years old). And this soap opera is taking place in a small city in the Midwest. not in CA. But the concept of a boob suddenly deflating is pretty bizarre/funny-unless it's happening to you, of course.

My friend Cathy and I had a conversation yesterday about our past lives as "low maintenance" women. If I dated a guy who was cute, nice & smart, and he treated me well, he didn't have to drive a Rolls Royce or take me out to a $200 a meal restaurant. I mean, I wouldn't balk at the notion, but if I liked a guy, a cheeseburger and fries were fine for the first date.
Ya know, when I first moved to New York I signed up with this dating service advertised in the Voice. They set up girls with rich geezers. You know, even if I got inflatable/deflatable boobs, I don't think I'd be a very good bimbette. I dated a few of these guys and they were BORING as hell and self-absorbed. One of the guys was cross-eyed and had greasy, slicked back hair like the Jerry Lewis of old. He took me to a fancy restaurant, some performance art nonsense at The Kitchen, and finally to the Limelight. He danced like Steve Martin doing his old Happy Feet routine and lived in a swanky doorman building on the Upper West side. He spent most of the date talking about how much he missed his old girlfriend, the rich bitch who masqueraded as an artist and liked to throw things at him when she was mad. Now this guy bored me to tears, and I didn't wanna have sex with him, but it was obvious he'd take me out to nice places as long as I pretended I liked him. I guess a lot of girls would cling to a rich guy for dear life even if they despised him just for the dosh. I couldn't do it. I have to be attracted to the actual person in some way minus the money. Gawd, I'm too real for L.A. Why am I here? The Happy Feet guy and I dated twice, then called it off after a second night at the Limelight. I saw some rocker guy I wanted and he fell for some - you guessed it- anorexic model with silicone boobs.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

What Did I Say About Music As Inspiration?

Here's an artist who drew comics based on songs by prog rock groups like Genesis.

Also, MTV Books recently published a collection of short stories "Lit Riffs" based on songs.

Lit Riffs

Thursday, June 30, 2005

When One Muse Goes Out The Door, Another Sneaks In Through The Window

A muse, as defined by the American Heritage dictionary, is "a goddess or power that inspires a poet." The best writing, or any art form, is not merely a byproduct of technique, study or even talent. It's always an emotional non-sequitur, an ethereal conjuring of inner joy or turmoil that somehow translates to enduring, or at the very least, interesting art.

Biographies of W.B. Yeats always mention his muse Maud Gone. Sylvia Plath wrote a poem called “The Disquieting Muses”, which has led many students of her work to wonder who were these muses, really? Her mother, her father, Ted Hughes? Even the marginally talented writer can be spurred to great things by a muse. What’s the difference between inspiration and a muse? Muses seems to have a longer shelf life. Some people naturally procure significant others as muses. Seems like overkill to me. You’re gonna live with someone, cook their dinner, shag ‘em, and use them as inspiration for your stories? Some writers like to keep their muses at a distance, which is probably safer and more productive in the long run. After all, more pop songs are written about the person you can’t have than the person who helps you raise the kids and pay the bills. A muse works best as a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a puzzle. Music is a divine driving force for creating. Athletes use certain songs to get adrenaline pumping before a game, and writers have different background music to inspire different stories. An erotic story will take on a different tone with Motley Crue songs blasting in the CD player than it will with "Barry White’s Greatest Hits." A fellow writer once commented about a female singer, “I love her nose. I create to her!”

I haven't had a proper muse for over a year now. Even rock stars don’t do it for me and that’s pretty bad. Everything that provided inspiration in the past seemed repetitive and blah and it effected my writing and even my desire to write at all. I had no idea where to look for a muse. “I dunno. Go to the bar, pick up some boy-toy?” a friend suggested. “He could be a muse.”
“No!!” I stammered, “I mean a real muse, not just inspiration. Anything can inspire you - a guy working in the sewer can inspire an idea. I don’t want some cheap, throwaway muse you use for one work and then toss away like a gum wrapper. I mean, a hardcore muse one that will lead to more ideas and even other muses-sort of like the original Greek muses-one for tragedy, one for comedy, one for song. I want the whole package.”

After much delay, I tackled the “to be reviewed” pile on my desk. I looked at the back cover of a DVD I had avoided watching for months. “Do I have to watch the whole thing? This is too much for me to handle right now,” I groused. Begrudingly, I slipped the DVD in the player and started scribbling impartial notes like a good, semi-professional journalist. Then, as I watched, something happened.

I put my pen down. You know, when you not wearing a helmet, a ton of bricks can really hurt the noggin’. I had my muse. Of course, it (he?) had always been there, sitting unopened on my desk for three months.

You don’t choose a muse. A muse chooses you, no matter hard you try to avoid it.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Californians: Get Your Earthquake Kits Now!!

So I was walking to the kitchen when I felt the earthquake last Wed-or was it Thursday? Felt like the floor was rolling beneath me and lasted for 15 seconds. The rolling effect is not the dangerous one. When you hear a sound like a train's outside your window, that's when you know you're done for. Interestingly enough, a former next door neighbor of mine in New Orleans described approaching hurricanes as sounding like "a train outside the window." So, if you hear a train and you're not anywhere near the Metrolink station, watch out..

Do celebrities IQs' go down 20 points for every million they make? (add 10 points per million if they live in L.A.)
(Scroll down to Kabbalah article)

Almost forgot about this:

Morrissey Foretold Diana's Death In Song

Friday, June 03, 2005

More Big Brother stuff...

not the Brit TV show. Now you MUST shred all second party info. Actually, this is a good thing. Doctors offices around here have been cited for tossing medical print-outs with patient info into trash bins behind their buildings. Not too smart considering all the identity theft going on.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Does He Hire Someone To Go On The Dates, Too?

Here's an exec so important and busy he can't write or answer his own personal ads. He has to hire someone to do it. I suppose he gives the same intimate touch to his relationships..

Monday, May 30, 2005

Yes, I Wrote Another Dirty Book..

Actually, it's erotic, not dirty and the stories were written between 1990 and this year, whenever I was between idiotic 9 to 5 jobs and boyfriend
catastrophes. It's called "Seduced And Abandoned", published by Renaissance Books. (Click link above for info and an excerpt.) And believe me, as far as erotica goes, I'm way old-fashioned, since these stories involve sexual relationships between one real (not demoness shapeshifter)* hetrosexual female and one real (not vampire/werewolf/pirate)* hetrosexual male who know each other or wind up in a long-term relationship. Lots of them have a rock 'n' roll or BDSM subtext.
*Don't worry, I'm working on projects with demoness shapeshifters. One has to de-er-evolve as a romance writer.

In other news- I recently ran a giveaway on my site for one of those "Totally Hits" compilations. Hundreds of people have responded, hoping to win a copy,which features stellar artists I've never heard of, like Trick Daddy, Ciara, Rupee and Trillville. Course, I'm an old fart who is listening to "Homicide" by 999 and other old punk songs as I type this. But there are some tried 'n' true names on it like.....Avril Lavigne.

Finishing up a novella that's overdue this week, and another one next week. Everything at the last minute. But then I was one of those kids who waited til 10 p.m the night before the book report was due to actually read the book.

Also, I am looking for female rock music fans to interview for a book. Details at this URL.

Friday, May 06, 2005

A Discourse On The Meaning Of Life

..from fitness/amateur porn model Kristy. This is what happens when you respond to a troll, but she handled it well.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

An Incredibly Complete Angelina Jolie Fan Site

You know you've made it to celebrity immortality when your sites dedicated to you have separate sections for fan poetry and art.

Wuthering Jolie

Monday, April 25, 2005

We Must Stop The Stupidity!

It's time to stand up and let Hollywood know that we're fed up and we're not going to take it anymore. Stupid and pedestrian entertainers must go..whatever happened to awarding people who had talent, originality, charisma, natural beauty, et al?

Friday, April 22, 2005

They're Back!!

It was a sad day in 1995 when Today sponges were banned.Well, they're back. Though it would still be a good idea to employ a "spongeworthy" test to prospective boy-toys before using..

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Songs For Rainy Lonesome Nights

I was doing research for an article on Morrissey when I discovered this site-hey, someone has to address the involuntary celibacy issue. I must say though, I hate the Imaginary Lover type songs on such occasions, and I always thought "Capain Jack" had some of the ickiest lyrics ever written (sorry,Billy!). "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?" by Paula Cole was actually my fave during a drought..

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Once A Metalhead, Always A Metalhead

Found this posted on the Inside Out_666 Yahoo group for metal fans. The article is spot-on, 'cept I think punk rock fans are just as loyal when they get older as metal fans. And my two favorite metal music experts, Deena Weinstein & Eddie Trunk, are quoted in the article.

Ethan Sacks of the Columbia News Service has published
the following article in the Naples Daily News:

Discordant heavy metal music struck a chord with many
teenagers during the late '70s and '80s. The loud,
fast, guitar-driven music has since languished
commercially as successive generations have chosen
newer soundtracks to fuel their rebellion against the
establishment. Many of the original fans, however,
never moved on, even as they aged, started careers,
got married and had children of their own.

"If you're seeing a 40-year-old at a concert, you're
quite sure at 18 you know what kind of music he was
into," said Deena Weinstein, author of "Heavy Metal:
The Music and Its Culture".

"For so many people the music of the most emotional
point of their lives is a touchstone that they return
to for the rest of their lives,"
said Weinstein, who
is also a sociology professor at DePaul University.
"They're keeping their own youth alive."

Eddie Trunk, 40, a disc jockey who hosts a nationally
syndicated heavy metal show, said fans of other music,
like pop or new wave, don't lose their love of music
with age any more than rockers.

"But I think the difference is the audience is not as
vocal and passionate about those groups, and doesn't
wear it on their sleeve as much as a hard rock or
heavy metal fan," Trunk said.

Heavy metal fans wear their passion on more than just
the sleeves of skull T-shirts and black leather
jackets. For many of them, the music — louder and
faster than anything heard before — became a way of
life. The mostly white, mostly male and mostly
middle-class listeners found a feeling of power over
their parents, over their teachers, over the jocks at
school that treated them as outcasts.

Metalheads, or headbangers, as they called themselves,
built up a community linked through underground tape
swapping networks and conversations about METALLICA
lyrics while camping out online for concert tickets.

Scott Ian, guitarist for ANTHRAX, asked to explain why
so many of the same fans have stuck around for the
band's entire 20-year history, used a typical comment,
the words "metal" and "rules" with an unprintable word
between. "It gets under your skin, it gets in your

That has kept bands like ANTHRAX in the studio and on
the road.

The band MEGADETH's latest album, "The System Has
Failed", sold a respectable 250,000 copies with none
of the MTV airplay that the band enjoyed in the late
'80s and early '90s.

Similarly, acts like JUDAS PRIEST and MOTÖRHEAD may
not be headlining stadiums anymore, but they still
grossed more in ticket sales last month than big-name
mainstream acts like ELTON JOHN, TOBY KEITH and ALICIA
KEYS, according to Pollstar, the industry's main
ticket sales tracking service.

"I just saw IRON MAIDEN with Bruce Dickinson last
year, the first time I've seen them back together
since the old days. It was like a geriatric ward,"
said 34-year-old metal fan Joe Bottiglieri, who added
that he wished he would see more young fans at shows.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Parlez vous francais, Madge?

I am so hoping these kids will be smarter and more together-and classier-than their parents. But you know the theory of opposites-if the parents are/were hedonistic dingbats, the kids usually wind up bright and responsible. Rocco and Lourdes should have a talk with Francis Bean sometime-in French..

If above link doesn't work, go to and do search for Madonna

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Random Supermodel Memory

In 1992 I attended a writers' conference in New Orleans. I was too poor to stay in the ritzy hotel where the conference was being held, so my boyfriend arranged for me to stay with a friend of his. One night he took me out to dinner and we started talking about where we grew up. He told me he had a girlfriend in San Francisco, and was going to marry her. However, she got called unexpectedly to go on a modeling job in Europe and never returned. (Clue: The gal was in the famous George Michael "Freedom" video-and it wasn't Naomi or Cindy.) Now, I KNEW I shouldn't ask the fella who the model in question was, but I did anyway and he answered, somewhat sheepishly. Poor guy.
Then, when I got back to New York, a friend of a friend claimed that she knew a guy who lived in her building. As the story goes, the model pursued him and not vice versa. Then when the poor sod got his chance he was so intimidated by her his Mr. Happy was inoperable. (This, of course, was in the pre-Viagra days.)
Other supermodel gossip from the '90s-I did overhear some very jaded New York publishing hipsters talk about a certain skinny British model being zonked out on heroin at a party, circa 95-96. Don't think she's into that nowadays, not so sure about her current (recent?) thieving rock star boyfriend..

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Random Rock & Roll Memory- 1 1/2 Degrees of Separation

People in general love to brag about meeting, knowing, or knowing some one who knows a celebrity (or semi or quasi celebrity.) This common yet irritating trait is increased eightyfold when you live in Los Angeles. Several years ago, I attended a concert featuring my favorite old geezer band cashing in on the excesses of their youth. While sitting backstage waiting for the show to go on, many people around me were exchanging stories about personal encounters they or their best friends had with band members. One woman excitedly revealed that a friend of hers had been to the guitar player's house. Of course, upon hearing this, my concert-going companion had to one up this woman's story. He turns to me and says "You know that girl Lori you met?" "Yeah, the drugged-out stripper?" I recalled. "She did heroin with (guitar player's name redacted) in the '80s."
Thank God the band hit the stage just then, saving me from a topper to that brush with greatness

Sunday, April 03, 2005

The Difference Between L.A. And New York

From the marketing exec's viewpoint:

According to Vincent Gallo via Defamer/Gawker:

We move on to reports that he’s left New York, which are true. As of two weeks ago, he is a new resident of Los Angeles (Beverly Hills, to be exact). “People in LA are so self-absorbed, they leave you alone,” he explains. In New York, Vincent felt he could never get anything done – finding a “metric bolt,” for instance, was a challenge for him.

Rest of article here:

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Random Rock 'N' Roll Memories, Blatant Self Promotion, etc.

I'm a featured author on The Romance Studio Blue this month. There's an interview where I finally get around to discussing the poems in my book "Broken Rose" and the good & bad points of my 4 fave cities-New York, L.A., New Orleans and Chicago.

A few years ago I went on a date with a guy I met through the AOL personals. Bad move right there. So I suggest we meet at the Cat Club. Now, this guy said he was a personal trainer. He was like 5' 2'', pudgy and I think he wore a beret. It's been so long I'm not sure. The first thing he says to me after surveying the other patrons of the club is "My God, I feel old." He continues to impress me (not) with the following facts:
1) He has a negative balance in his bank account, proving this by attempting to withdraw cash at the gas station ATM across the street. He also reveals he is 35 pounds overweight, which is always a selling point if you're a personal trainer.
2) He wrote a screenplay about a murdering pedophile priest.
3) Was Derek Jeter's personal trainer in NY at $3,000 a week.
4) Brought his pug dog with him (it was in the back seat of his car.) Introducing me to his dog, of course was his final gesture before going back to find a dumber and more easily impressed blind date. I should add that he sent a pic of him with his dog prior to the date. Suppose he figured if his prospective date didn't think he was cute, she might stick around cuz of the lil doggie.
5) Took me to Subway for dinner. Hey, at least he paid. We parted company.
So, anywho, I figure to hell with it, I'm not going back home. So I go back to the Cat Club. I'm standing there when I look up and see some robotic 20 year old talking into a headset, holding a clipboard. Then I see a pair of legs with covered with knee high boots at the top of the staircase. And there are cameras by the tables blocking the entrance.
"Fuck!! If that's Britney, I'm never getting out of here," I think. Luckily, it turned out to be someone much cooler-Shakira. She joined Slim Jim and the-I don't think they were calling themselves the St***rf**ckers that night-think it was a different combo-no Gilby-for a couple of songs including the theme from "The Jeffersons" TV show. Ha!! I thought. You'd never catch Xtina or Britney or Jessica Simpson hanging out with Slim Jim and metal dudes, playing guitar on a live version of the Jeffersons theme song.
I've liked Shakira ever since.

Just to prove the desparate housewife clones around here go for the under 50 types, too...another e-mail between horny broads.

Subject: Cute English Blokes

Ya think?

Re: Cute English Blokes

You can't have the guitar player cuz he's MINE!!

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Lord Have Mercy (One For The Ladies)

Subject: Lord Have Mercy

Re: Lord Have Mercy

LORD HAVE MERCY is right! WOAH. He looks good......... YOWZA.
I must now officially be a desperate housewife!