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10/6/03 The Good Son
Hey Old Sammy's kind of pissy there, but then if they were getting ready to hang my ass, I'd be pissy too (hell, they're not- as far as I know- and I'm at least as pissy as Sam). Played by a skinny pre-Paladin Richard Boone, check out Sam in "Star in the Dust". Great shit. What's Bill up to since last issue? This and that, first I'd like to bring to your attention to another one of those news things that pop up when I connect to MSN, that tells me Roy Horn, of Siegfried and Roy, was attacked by one of his tigers. It reads in part, "The tiger, which weighs 600 pounds, then lunged at Horn, who tried to beat the animal off with a microphone." For God's sake, no wonder it attacked him. I'm sorry, but I can't stop laughing at this. . . does no one edit this stuff? What's Bill drinking? Bud, and lots of it. I got a rough day ahead tomorrow, as you'll find out later in this tome. What's Bill listening to? Found a buy one, get four free deal, so I got a CD for Rachie, and 4 for me, and none for Sarah (or any of the rest of you), I recognized the CD for Rach as one she's been asking for, Sarah pretty much just downloads all her music. Just replacing albums I already had on record, old folks stuff, "Rock And Roll Animal" by Lou Reed, I'm on record many times as a big Velvet Underground fan, not so hot on Lou by himself but this is a good album, great guitar, great sounds, and it's mostly live versions of old VU stuff anyway, "Dark Side Of the Moon" by Pink Floyd, "Trespass" by Genesis, I know, even old Genesis isn't that good, but I'm still searching for that magic song I mentioned many issues back, it's not on here, either, and "Trilogy" by ELP, and even though it doesn't have the connotations that unknown Genesis tune does, it still holds fond memories, this album was playing at a party Whitney Darby had the summer of '75 and I remember Wendy Porter (do you remember her, Joe? not sure you ever met her, if you met her, you'd remember, trust me) this pretty redhead from Teays Valley I went out with for like 6 days (but they were good days), and I were outside at the picnic table listening to this come through the speakers out on the patio, making out to beat hell, "From The Beginning" and I'm right there, soft summer night, pretty girl, great time- though I failed miserably in my attempt to get her to do it there on the picnic table. "I'll even get on the bottom." "NO!" For those who've been asking, the girls are doing about the same, still at war with the Baltimwhore just like their Daddy was all those years, even Rachel has been into it with her, Loretta giving her the "You're just not applying yourself" speech. Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I heard THAT one. BW and Shriveled Mohandas are out of town this week, Loretta's mom is staying with the girls, and let me tell ya, I feel a whole lot better about that than I do when it's their mom and SM in charge. I think they do too, talked to them last night, they both said, "Thank God, finally someone in this house who'll COOK." And for those of you who've been asking about ME, the thumb and toe are sore but functioning, thank you for your concern. Went to a party at Joe and Laura's last Friday, for their work folk but they couldn't have a party and not invite me, it was fun, some interesting guys there, lots of cute girls. A couple of the girls said they'd be willing to be Falconettes, Death Falcon A and Death Falcon Alan (I don't get that either, it's apparently an inside joke), I hope it wasn't just the beer and wine talking. Black Death Falcon masks, tight black sleeveless Underarmour tops on 'em- look the fuck out. As for refreshments, Laura always puts out a nice spread (HA), plenty of beer, Newcastle and Guinness for me, thanks. Shawn was there (spelled it wrong last time), he's one of those guys you (or I do, anyway, sometimes) meet and you think, "I've known this guy for ages" and you fall into that easy camaraderie thing, which was neat. Of course, that's not going to stop me from detaching his head from his body next "wrestling lesson". On a somewhat related note, someplace we haven't gone recently is the obituary column, time to update you on passings of note that you might not have heard of. Going alphabetically, we have Eric Braunn, who played guitar for Iron Butterfly on the totally glorious "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida". Just 52, he went from cardiac arrest, I hate when they say that, we all die of cardiac arrest, if it was a heart attack, say so. Trevor Goddard, the Aussie who played, among other things, Kano in "Mortal Kombat" died at 38 from an overdose of prescription drugs. Dumbass. Oh yeah, out of order, but Howie Epstein, who used to play bass in Tom Petty's Heartbreakers, recently OD'd on heroin at 47, again, dumbass. Lastly, Scott Jernigan, he played with Karp (alt- rock suck holes, pretty much) was killed when the 24 foot cabin cruiser he was riding in rammed a dock at the University Of Washington crew house, sailed into the air, and hit a tree. I regard rumors that I was at the throttle of that boat as nothing but libelous lies. Was it going backward? No? See.
Jason stopped by last week, I wasn't home, damn sorry about that, I would've loved to have seen you. Were you in your civvies, or uniform? Man, you realize the first time I see you all copped out I'm going to fucking flip out, just take it in stride- and keep your hand on your pepper spray. You didn't say, how was your graduation party? Hell, if I'd known then what I know now, I'd have been there. And in all seriousness, watch your ass out there. Heard from Staci the other day, for the first time in a long time. She's still in Key West, doing wonderfully, very happy, wanted to tell me she just got engaged. Well, shit, uh, congratulations. Dammit. So I guess if we go to KW next summer for some tarpon fishing Chris, we won't being staying with her. Then again, knowing her, we still might.
Anyway, cool comic, those of you who are into comics but have never read any TA, check it out (try your comics shops old files, it's where I got a lot of mine- admittedly almost 20 years ago). Still, it's worth looking for. Finished "The Monkey's Raincoat", I was good with it till the end, I don't like it where the good guys gun down a dozen or so bad guys at the end, I just find it BS unrealistic. Speaking of bullshit, Chris seems to think I was bullshitting (ME?) when I said I sold his Krakatoa book. Some guy came door to door wanting books for a disease drive, I told him I didn't have any donations but I'd sell him this nice red book, cheap, he said okay. Really. No upcoming TV recommendations, sorry, still without TV, been about 2 weeks now, not really missing it, been keeping myself amused without it, and yeah, my hand IS getting tired. Also been writing a lot again at night, which is very good news, at least for me, I just haven't been motivated to get my TV back on, maybe by next issue. So, also, can't review what I've watched lately, cos it's been nada, though I did get an e-mail from Joe last night (it being officially Monday) complaining about how terrible the new TV Tarzan is with its weenie Calvin Klein model hero. Avoid (or watch) depending on how you like your Tarzans. I like mine named Johnny Weismeuller. Since we're to the TV portion, I got a real good response to the 60's sitcom hottie discussion last issue. I'm gonna keep this going, so if you haven't written in yet, go ahead, I'm still interested. There must not have been any hot sitcom guys, cos I got a decent female response, but they were all for people like Rowdy Yates (Clint Eastwood), Matt Dillon (James Arness) Napoleon Solo (Robert Vaughn) and one discerning lass who picked Peter Brown and, God love your heart, girl, my hero, William Smith, from Laredo. As for females, no one disputed my Number One pick, Barbara Eden- for fuck's sake, how could you?. Some wanted to quibble about Mary Ann, okay, but the choices for Number Three- interesting. Two votes for Bobbi Jo (good pick), only one for her blond sister Billie Jo, the very lovely Meredith McRae, who's been gone a couple years now herself, brain tumor, sucks, Marta Kristen from Lost In Space, Buffy from Family Affair, ha ha, you damn pedophile, Barbara Feldon, sexy voice there, I agree, but you gotta watch out for those sexy voices, I remember when I was working CPS there was this attorney that was killing me over the phone, this honey dripping bedroom voice, we get to court and holy shit- she looked like Mr. T, even sounded like him in person- "Who be dat fool Bill? You? C'mere fool", Lynn Borden (she was the second mom on "Hazel" we're getting pretty arcane here) I can't remember all the others, it's late and the beer's kicking in, and I still have miles to go before I sleep. Chris (who picked Inger Stevens, "Farmers Daughter" at #2) was the only one who agreed with me on #3- Mary Tyler Moore. I'm talking Laura Petrie here, not Mary Richards, LP was hot, damn hot, when I had TV I was staying up till 4:30 am just to watch her ass (literally and figuratively). I think she had a beautiful face, and I love that mouth, Jesus, and that tight, trim dancer's body, but, as Chris so astutely noted, it was her intelligent, no second banana personality that really made her. She also just came across like she liked to DO IT, and once you got behind closed doors she was going to wear your ass out, little buddy, fuck those damn twin beds, it was gonna be her place or yours. I love women like that.
For those of you clamoring for more Bill and his Dad, well, thanks a hell of a lot, you know I don't make this shit up, it has to happen. Well, it's happened, here you go. I was at my parents house Wednesday and my mom says, "Billy, I need to talk to you," which is never a good sign, cos normally she starts talking (and talking) without preface. B: What? M: Your Daddy's probably gonna need some help tomorrow. So began my three days of hell- and they're not over yet. My Dad simply no longer has the mental capacity or physical dexterity to do phone work any longer. There are a hundred instances I could cite from the last three days- one such, he kept swearing I broke his induction amplifier, even sends me out for new batteries for it, etc, we're going around about it, "Dammit, Dad, it was just working for me," did he have it turned off, no, had he somehow turned the volume all the way down, yes- but they're not really funny, just kind of sad. These may also be sad, but are hopefully somewhat entertaining as well. My Dad gets there a couple hours before me, to scope out the job, which, without going into great detail, involved moving five phone stations across three floors, a big job, for real. When I show up- D: Okay, according to the theories of telephonic communication- I start to drill, and basically bounce off. The pastor (who my Dad liked to call "the pasture" was standing right there). B: What are these floors made of? My dad and the pasture go away, thankfully. Half hour later my dad comes back. D: Are you not through that damn floor yet. I'm downstairs waiting . .
. We get downstairs, I do a little mental computation . . . B: You know, just by eyeballing it, I don't think these two rooms line
up exactly. I think I'm drilling into that damn wall right there. B: Stop pulling the wire. At one point, I'm running some wire, my Dad's standing around thinking crazy stuff, I hear him make this funny noise. I look up and he's got this terrible expression on his face, eyes all bugging out, mouth twisted, I get sincerely scared, I think the old man's having a stroke, I jump up- B: Are you all right? About that time he rips out this elephantine fart that propels him forward about six feet. D: I am now. Later, he comes in, his hand all bloody. B: Who shot ya, Dutch? D: You wanna bring me that big ladder? I spent half my time there looking for my Dad. He'd set me some task and then just go roaming off through the church- and First Baptist in Dunbar is a big shittin' church, I found out- and I'd have to go find him, usually chatting up Cindy, the secretary, I went in there one time, Cindy had just told him, "They said on the radio someone was just shot up the street", my dad says, "Well, they better not come in here, I'm busy"-or just standing looking at something all bamfoozled, and I'd say, "What's next, Mr. Bell?" and off we'd go. I was looking for him Friday afternoon, went downstairs to where they're having their preschool, the lady down there gives me a dirty look. L: Are you the telephone man? This little girl comes up to me holding a book. LG: Can you read? So I sat down in a little preschool chair and little Breanna hopped up on my lap and we read "Where's Fozzy?" (he was asleep in bed while everyone was out looking for him, in case you were worried), and it was easily the best time I had in that place. I spent many, many an hour back in the day reading to little girls on my lap, it's one of the great joys in my life. Of course, I really enjoy having a big girl in my lap as well, but that's a whole 'nother thing. All good things have to end, however, and my dad eventually caught up with me. D: Figures you'd be down here with the kids. Time to get back to work, Big Bird. (Yes, he actually called me big bird, don't ask me why). B: Where you keep getting all that candy? D: You want to punch these wires down on the box. We finish up about 9 Saturday night- and the system doesn't work. He
doesn't know why, I sure as hell don't know why, we stayed till 11, got
one phone and two lines working, that was it, have to go back tomorrow and
get the other four phones to work, plus the third line as well. How? FUCK
IF I KNOW, and I doubt Alexander Graham Bitner does either. It's going to
be ugly, and I dread it like absolute hell. Now do you understand why I'm
drinking? Women got skirts, men got pants And the dish ran away with the spoon. Later Bill
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My
name is Sam Hall, yes it is Sam Hall 
Did
you know the state motto of North Carolina is "Esse Qua Videri"?
Means, "To Be, Rather Than To Seem". Pretty cool, beats the hell
out of "Mountaineers Always Shit In The Woods" or whatever the
hell we have here.
For
this issues Comics Corner, children, I'd like to briefly discuss the
T.H.U.N.D.E.R Agents. With great Wally Wood art, they were a product of
the 65/66 spy boom, Bond, but also the U.N.C.L.E. stuff, and they weren't
aliens or mutants (though they fought same) but government agents who used
super science devices to give them their powers. For a comic they were
characterized well, no rich playboys, mostly just regular Joes doing their
job for Uncle Sam. Dynamo, who had this belt (with a 60 minute time limit,
natch, which was always running out at the worst times, just like
Hourman's miraclo pill) that made him super strong and indestructible, he
was also something of a horn dog, good for him, always wanting to
"reform" dominatrix looking The Iron Maiden- you fool, go bad
like her!-Vulcan, who got magnetic powers, Raven, with a flying cloak and
laser claws that popped out of the backs of his hands years before
Wolverine, Menthor, (sounds like a mint) who had this
telepathic/telekinetic helmet- he got killed, that didn't happen too much
in mid-60's comics, No-Man, this dying old geezer scientist who has his
mind transferred into this super strong robot that also has an
invisibility cloak, he was all angsted up cos he had the hots for this
young chick scientist but being a nadless robot he was SOL, he also had
all these spare bodies so when one robot body got destroyed, his mind went
to the next one, and my favorite, Lightning, who had this belt (the TA
were big on belts)
that gave him super speed- but that also super accelerated his aging
process whenever he used it. When the TA scientists find out about this
flaw, they want the belt back- and he won't give it to 'em. For our boy
Lightning, the rush of being a super hero is worth dying for. I thought
that was a damn sophisticated concept for a kids comic in the '60s, and I
still do. I also understand it.
Had
a dream about dear Mary this week, I guess she's been on my mind, and it
was a corker. I'm watching the DVD show (this is in the dream) and Rob
comes home to find MTM all pouty cos someone called her a tease, "I'm
not a tease, am I Rob?" and he's sort of sputtering, and then all of
a sudden the blouse and Capris are gone and she's in this skimpy two piece
fringed show girl type outfit and starts into this dance while singing
this song about how she really likes to wind guys up, everything else
stays in faithful black and white but her outfit, which was this electric
green, and then I GET SUCKED INTO THE TV and now I'm Rob Petrie, man,
normally I only get sucked into dream TV right about the time the sharks
are going for the shipwreck survivors, or the Martians start cranking up
their heat rays. There's more to it, but we'll leave it at that, what a
great dream, wish I had more like that, and less about the sharks and
Martians.
