Achy breaky heart.

Yesterday was just one of those weird (in the Old English–wyrd–Shakespearean–think the sisters that open Macbeth–sense of "fated"), wonderful days when you learn new things, hear old "new" things, generally have fun, and still manage to be fully productive. We really didn't have that much rain, but twice I was inside a store only to have to delay my departure due to a sudden downpour. At least I no longer live in Massachusetts given the weather they've been having.

Scene one: it's pouring as I come out of Wal Mart , so I duck into a Mexican place to sit out the gullywasher. While I'm there briefly, I hear a Spanish Language verison of Billy Ray Cyrus's immortal hit written by Don Von Tress of course. All this while on the TV mounted high in the corner tuned to Disney Family, we come to the heartfelt end of a Full House episode in which DJ is upset because daddy Danny read her diary after "finding" it while putting her laundry away. Hard to believe that Bob Saget is one of the funniest, bluest comedians in American, and between them, he spent a decade (1987—1997) on that sitcom and hosting AFHV, two of the blandest, most vanilla shows ever to cross our screens. But I guess he made major bank on syndication rights for the former, but not as much bank as they eventually did, and a young comic wants nothing more than regular work, frankly.

As once and future Go-Go Jane Wiedlin says, bad taste is universal:

Don't Dream It, Be It

9/6/2005

Wow, what a weekend!! Saturday night I went to a birthday party in East LA. The theme was Raiders (you know, the football team) and I am so NOT Sporty Spice! Too cheap to go buy Raiders merch, I concocted an outfit out of a skintight black and silver skirt, silver shoes and a black and silver wig. I was going as the date of a fellow, so I didn't actually know anybody at the party, so it was kinda neat to be completely incognito. It was a Mexican family and there were probably 40 people there ranging from about 2 years old to about 90. Amazing homecooked Mexican food from the birthday boy's mom who spoke no English. The funniest part of the night was when the DJ put on a Spanish language version of "Achy Breaky Heart" and the entire party got up and did that dance that goes to the song. I was blown away! Who knew???? Apparently bad taste transcends all cultures!

(http://www.janewiedlin.com/aspFiles/journal.asp)

Which puts me in mind of this infamous mid 1980s song lyric

she, had to leave
los angeles
all her toys wore out in black and her boys had too
she started to hate every nigger and jew
every mexican that gave her lotta shit
every homosexual and the idle rich
idle rich
she had to get out, get out
get out, get out
get out, get out

X, "Los Angeles"

Back to the day. I went full speed ahead preparing to teach verbal reasoning on the MCAT for Mr. K; yup I passed the text test with basically no prep and study times involved. Just call me a test takin' machine even if I'm 20+ years out of fully competitive #2pencil crushing-mode.

Scene two: Last night I saw Lee perform as a frontman for the first time ever with bro Paul in tow. Here's a shot of their debut song



and now an unscientific poll. I believe the following should be Dave's new print ad campaign with the tagline "Everything tastes better at Dave's." You?



Scene three (the next morning): Well I'm off to spend the morning over in West Point chasing the ghost of Mr. Chester Burnett. That's Howlin' Wolf to you and me. Just some photojournalism for the first of a series articles Perfect Sound Forever has commissioned me to do about the man, the blues society, and the annual festival.