I can’t think of a better way to level set this thing than starting with this.
If you’ve spaced on the reference, it’s from “Blue Velvet.” And if you’ve never actually seen “Blue Velvet,” just stop reading now. I’m building up to something here.
"Here’s to your fuck. Cheers."
I’ll be dropping science fast & loose, so prick up your ears, cholos. Here’s where we’re at:
• KENNETH, WHAT IS THE FREQUENCY?
William Tager was an NBC stagehand, who thought NBC was penetrating his mind with their TV waves. He assaulted Dan Rather, repeating this phrase over & over, hoping that if he got the right TV frequency, he could stop the TV waves. REM used it as inspiration & Daniel Clowes wrote it into "Like A Velvet Glove Cast In Iron."
• THE APPEARANCE OF SOY BOMB
It was the 1998 Grammy Awards. Bob Dylan starts a song & choreographer/performance artist Michael Portnoy interrupts with something no one expected. It was planned, but not the way that anybody but Portnoy expected.
• A FATHER HANGS UP A PHONE
A father’s son is molested by a karate instructor. The kid is brought back safe, but as the karate instructor is walking back from sentencing, the father is waiting. He shoots the molester in front of cops. Then he hangs the phone up that he was pretending to talk on.
• I DON’T LIKE MONDAYS
In 1979, Brenda Spencer fired shots into Cleveland Elementary School as she sat in her house across the street. Eight children injured, the principal & custodian killed. When captured & asked why she did it, she replied, “I don’t like Mondays.” It spawned a Boomtown Rats song.
• SHE TALKS IN MATHS
While living in an efficiency in Southside Birmingham, I was woken up to the sounds of a woman screaming in the next apartment. I called the cops, who showed up & pulled her out. Apparently, she was off her meds. But I still remember all her ramblings being nothing but equations.
• THE COUSIN OF SUPERMAN
In the 1989 film “Roger & Me,” Moore documents the decay of Flint, Michigan. Workers who’ve been laid off succumb to odd behavior. One such worker thought he was the cousin of Superman, Captain Da. He roamed the streets of Flint in a cape, wielding a shotgun.
• THE HURRY UP TWINS
David Lynch’s post-“Twin Peaks” comedy (?) about a 1950’s TV network was called “On The Air.” Not for Lynch newbies. They shot seven episodes, but it was cancelled after three. It eclipses “Twin Peaks” in bizarreness. Black Siamese twins made a cameo from time to time.
Okay. Pencils down.
These are all events or circumstances that share a common theme.
A similar pattern that pervades the inner workings of each experience.
A metaphysical throughline of gratifying chaos that breaks up the normalcy of everyday life.
I’m not talking about the violent or homicidal aspect of these events I’ve just gone through. I’m going granular here.
There’s an all-too human side to what’s happening here. Both dark & uncomfortably humorous.
An elegant chaos.
And I regret that there’s not more of it in this supposedly “strange world.”
"Now it’s dark."
Whoa. 1200 days. Who knew this goofy abortion could last this long? Or that I’d have this much to regret?
Although I guess there are a lot of mediocre/borderline fascinating things on Tumblr. Like Door Knob Girl.
There are even horrible things on Tumblr. I’m referring, of course, to horrible-things.tumblr.com. Which isn’t actually as horrible as you might think.
The fact that I’ve stuck to my guns amidst a sea of hyper sexualized fanaticism,
hyper sexualized cosplay,
lazy attempts at comedy,
lazy posting of “deep,” yet uninventive tweets,
& unnecessary GIF sets
isn’t exactly paramount to climbing Everest or anything, but going this long with such a threadbare concept makes me feel a sense of accomplishment.
In a very, very, VERY small way. Well, it keeps me going when I’m not writing for work or while trying to finish writing a book & two screenplays anyway.
So, way back on DAY 1172 (AH, THOSE WERE MY SALAD DAYS), I realized my brain was mashing up two songs by definitively different artists.
Well, DAY 1200 is sadly more of the same. I regret that my brain has been doing the same thing all morning. Except instead of Kansas & Iglesias, it’s the following:
Fuck my life.
I was out & about with the wife for her birthday today.*
While she was in Crafty Planet, I decided to pop into a barber shop around the corner.
And let me start by saying that I’ve been a fairly faithful barber shop patron since I was 5.
(That’s not me, but I was a notorious cryer until I was at least 6.)
To this day, I still believe the best haircuts come from barber shops, as opposed to some shitty chain.
There’s something about the smell of an authentic barber shop that really takes me back. And It just can’t be replicated.
Well, there I am in this barber shop, hoping to time my cut with the wife getting out of the fabric store.
There was ONE GUY in the chair before me.
And seeing as how he was older & had less hair, I figured, what, 10 minutes? Ummmmmm, no.
The barber wouldn’t shut the fuck up, yakking away more than he bothered to cut this dude’s hair.
And it went ON & FUCKING ON like this. To the point where I was left sitting there for nearly 20 minutes, eventually giving up on it when the wife showed up, wanting to know what the hold-up was.
Again, I’m not a barber shop novice. There’s a TON of gab that normally goes on in one of these places. I’m used to it. In fact, I’ve yet to find an Ed Crane behind a barber chair.**
I mean, it made some brilliant cinema, but this was just lack of business sense. So, mostly I regret the fact that this barber was:
A) Completely oblivious to this shit
B) Not being called out by his regulars
"Yeah, I just need one of those short, back & si - BLUGHHHH!"
* If you’re in the Twin Cities & haven’t dropped by Glam Doll Donuts yet, what the F are you waiting for?
** Also, if you claim to be a Coen Brothers fan, but have never seen “The Man Who Wasn’t There,” turn your card in at the door.
As far as squeaky-clean, take-no-chances, one-hit wonder, 80’s bands go, I guess you could do worse than these buttholes.
I never paid them much attention, really. Although I made it a point to switch off MTV whenever "Your Love" came on.
Yeah, it was only 1985/86, but the 80’s were already waning for me at that point. I’d only discovered punk a few years earlier,
meaning that anything in the Outfield vein seemed stale, dulled & ineffective.
It also didn’t strengthen top 40 radio’s case that THIS album veered into my field of vision in 1986.
In other words, The Outfield & their pop-collared ilk didn’t really stand a chance at that point.
Not saying I didn’t know “Your Love” like the back of my hand. It played on every TV or car stereo I wasn’t in control of.
Trust me, I was familiar. And still am.
So, we’re in 2014 now. The future, which is coincidentally the present.
Today, I was in Jimmy John’s, which - if you’re not already familiar - isn’t exactly known for playing the best music while you eat. Well, a hearty Regret-A-Day No-Prize to anybody who can guess what was playing.
And as I sat there, stuffing a Slim 1 down my gullet, I found this bullshit song impossible to ignore. Something suddenly sounded different about it. The vocals sounded updated or something.
Again, this is a song that I’ve heard thousands of times. Like most pop drivel, my brain’s cataloged every vocalization, every drum fill, every lazy guitar riff. And those vocals weren’t the same.
So, I whipped THIS out,
hoping it would pull up a live version of “Your Love.” Or maybe it was a cover, I don’t know. This COULDN’T be the original version, right?
But somehow it was.
Same damn song from back in the day. But now with the altered vocals.
I checked the cyberwebs for confirmation,
only to be met with the depressing fact that this song has been covered WAY too many times for my tastes.
Wait. What’s that?
Okay, this was CLEARLY NOT an “electro-inspired version” I was listening to. But this dickhead had obviously rerecorded his vocals.
So, here we are, ladies & germs.
I regret that I’ve done an entire, exhaustive post on a band as useless as the fucking Outfield.
But more than that, I regret that this “alternate” version of “Your Love” - a song I can’t fucking stand in the first place - may go unexplained.
*Standard tip for your rocket mailman should be 48,000 quocknerts per month.**
**Quocknerts became the universal currency when Earth was nuked by the US Postal Service. The Postmaster General ruled with an iron fist & required all subjects to accept packages in exchange for quocknerts.***
***One quocknert = 1 million farleefars****
****Farleefars became the universal currency when Earth was nuked by a terrorist gang with Asperger’s. They were soon nuked by the USPS & charged 70 million quocknerts.*****
*****One farleefar = No monetary equivalent, since the Asperger’s terrorist group generally wanted Spree, Oreos & Laffy Taffy as payment.
In an alternate reality - within a divergent timeline, only a few vibrational clicks away from our own - McLean Stevenson never left M*A*S*H.
Col. Blake was in every one of those 256 episodes. And in that universe, Stevenson requests that his character is killed off in the final episode.
Kind of like his final episode three years into the run of M*A*S*H in our reality.
But the main difference is that by “1983-A,” McLean was never replaced, never missed &, more importantly, gainfully employed for a full 11 years on a series that kicked as much ass there as it did here.
never came to pass.
But that’s all pixie dust, as they say. And we all know where pixie dust leads us, right?
leading to bad, potentially embarrassing decisions.
Where am I going with this?
Okay, I have a vague memory of revealing this before, but the "Hello, Larry" theme is one of those things that never really leaves my head.
I actually know a few people who are reading this, while singing this goofy, faux Steely Dan-esque slice of theme song death right now.
Don’t fight it.
But why is that?
We’re talking about a show that was supposedly SO horrible, Johnny Carson used it as a punchline on more than one occasion.
A show supposedly SO awful, that TV Guide placed it at #12 on its "50 Worst Shows Of All Time."
But I can think of one (if not THREE) reason(s) why I might’ve liked it:
1) KIM RICHARDS
Should go without saying, but I had a huge crush at the time, ‘natch.
2) MEADOWLARK LEMON
The Globetrotters hung the moon & stars as far as I was concerned.
3) THAT FAT GUY
A given. He was always doing the bump with chics & eating stuff.
None of these include McLean Stevenson, I’ll admit. And I guess I regret that he never seemed to get his due.
That “1983-A” McLean might’ve made out like a bandit, but the best he did after M*A*S*H was THIS, in my opinion.
BAM! “Cat From Outer Space.”
And maybe that’s the most regrettable fact of them all.
I’m obviously too old to appreciate the groundswell of dicksuckery that surrounds this show.
I’m sure if I’d watched it during its original run, I would’ve sided with the crusty, old principal/teacher/whoever the hell William Daniels played.
Then again, I had a bias against this show from the start. I fucking hate nepotism in all its forms.
I gave Fred Savage kudos for “The Wonder Years,” even though I was just a casual viewer. But when “Boy Meets World” came along, I’ll admit that I was fairly anti-Ben Savage.
Maybe it was the precociousness of this little turd that made me hate him. Although if we jump back into the nepotism arena, I guess you could totally blame Fred for getting this dick’s foot in the industry’s back door.
Yep, look up Ben Savage on IMDB. First credit? “Little Monsters.”
I don’t know. Maybe Howie Mandell had something to do with it.
My point is, “Boy Meets World” wasn’t exactly for me. Then again, it wasn’t necessarily aimed at my demo. So, no bigs, right?
Well, get ready for the regret, ding-a-lings. A spin-off is about to drop.
Yep. Cory & Tapioca* have kids now. And they’re probably about 10,000 times more precocious than Ben the nepotism spaz.
Plus, in keeping with the regime of desperately vapid flunkies in their roster, it’s Disney. So, it’s probably written by the partially brain dead.
Their zeitgeist is pop culture suicide.
Now, let’s be clear. I’m not so much regretful about the existence of “Girl Meets World.”
Yeah, it looks saccharine-soaked. And it’s aimed at mental midgets, but what do you expect? Consider the source material.
No poet laureates were stepping up to write episodes or anything. Hell, it wasn’t even Sorkin. A bulk of it was probably written by a 15-year-old girl.
What I regret is the fact that the “fans” of “Boy Meets World” are expecting this to be in keeping with the original somehow.
These are actual adults.
The problem is that “Boy Meets World” aired on ABC. Whereas THIS is pure Disney Channel. And sure, MAYBE it’s all equal if you calculate ABC’s horrible “TGIF” sentimentality into the formula.
In other words, these BMW “fans” have turned into a latter-day version of ME from the 90’s (pictured here).
But that’s not what I ultimately regret.
Ben the douche-trough supposedly got a nose job. Or should I say some kind of nose lengthening. And I regret that all the BMW “fans” won’t get this reference.
* Yeah, I know her fucking character’s name is Topanga, but I ask you, “Which name sounds more Goddamned ridiculous?”**
** HINT: The answer you’re looking for is Topanga.
This has been my go-to Steely Dan karaoke song for years.
It wouldn’t exactly be in my top 10 Dan song list,* but I’ll say this: it’s reliable. No matter which karaoke bar I hit, it’s always there waiting for me.
Well, I came across this little tidbit about "Deacon Blues" today.
And as a Steely Dan geek (as well as an Alabama native), I regret that I’ve been misinterpreting this lyric for years.
However, as an Auburn fan, it actually makes me fairly happy.
* Anybody curious about my “top 10 Dans” simply needs to ask. It’s free of the standard hits & I guarantee it won’t be the ones you’d think.**
** It starts with "FM," which was technically released as single, but not exactly a “Reelin’ In The Years”-style hit or anything.***
*** I’m also talking the original version of “FM,” not the version with the sax solo outro.****
**** We’re already at four fucking asterisks, which obviously shows how much of a Steely Dan dork I am.
Where’s the logic behind rioting when your team actually WINS?
I mean, I can see if they LOST. Like, "Fuck these assholes! I’m gonna shit in the street & wreck shit!"
"WOOOOOO! I did it all for the NOOKIE!"
"Bein’ white fuggin’ RUUUUULEZZZZZ!"
It’s not the first time this has happened in Dinkytown. And I suppose it won’t be the last. Still, it’s beyond my level of comprehension.
Maybe I regret the fact that I’ve never rioted.
Admittedly, I never felt so strongly about something that I felt like it warranted it. I guess I was pretty pissed when they brought Superman back as those four idiots.
But I didn’t feel like damaging property. If anything, I felt pretty good about not falling for such a shitty marketing stunt.
Maybe when they cancelled “Freaks & Geeks.”
Nah. I honestly can’t see that thing keeping up the momentum. Besides, it ended on a pretty sweet note. And it’s probably gained more love cancelled than it ever could’ve running its course.
Well, damn. Now I regret that I’m kind of jealous of those U of M turds.
"EAT PEPPER, HIPPIE!"
Okay, maybe not THAT jealous.