A little behind on my DVD duties but I have an excuse. The holidays. Right? Anyway, I'm skipping DVD releases (as of now, I'll get to them later) and going straight to Three Obsessions:
1. "Downed" by Cheap Trick Cheap Trick is a lifelong obsession. On certain days I consider them the greatest rock band of all time. The perfect combination of catchy pop riffs, full on from-the-groin RAWK and intelligence (and not just because the other two guys in the band are “nerds”—they're cool nerds, not massive dorks), I never tire of them. As of now, I can’t stop listening to “Downed” from the brilliant album “In Color.” It’s such a curiously sad yet wonderfully fuck-it-all song that, of late it makes my head spin. If you’re going through anything, if you feel a little crazy it’s cathartic beyond reason. This just runs through my brain: “Downed, downed out of my head...I’m going to live in a mountain way down under in Australia. It's either that or suicide. It's such a strange strain on you. Oooh, I got a mind." And I love it when he sings, "You're think you're Jesus Christ." It's good most bar jukeboxes aren't hep enough to contain this song because if I get drunk tonight I have no idea what I'd be capable of. Either I'd get in a fight or pack up my car and move out of this city ("So long! So long! Sayonara!"). If a song makes you feel happy and crazy all at once that's an awesome thing. I don't ever want to have kids but--if Robin Zander demanded I bear his child I would. Shit, I'd have a baby with Bun E. Carlos.
2. King Kong Or rather, defending the movie. Jesus Christ people get off my back! If it’s not nearly every single one of my friends (not you Jimmy or F.X. thank you guys), it’s my goddamn sister too! What am I supposed to do? Lie? Say I was totally bored and hated the movie? I was thoroughly entertained. This only brings up that funny predicament when you’re “busted” for liking something outside your "peer" group. Friends usually trust your taste but when you suddenly go against, they look at you differently. Like you cheated on them. And not understandable cheating. For instance, most critics/friends didn't love Lords of Dogtown, but those who know me understand that I’m easily seduced by a movie featuring ‘70s skater kids, a scraggly Val Kilmer-esque Heath Ledger and scenes where boys jump into a car singing “Now you’re messing with a Son of a bitch!” Not to mention the Black Sabbath, T-Rex and Stooges peppering the soundtrack. They know I’ll lie down like a whore when Heath waxes a surfboard and starts singing “Maggie May.” But King Kong? It’s like I slept with the hugest, most obnoxious movie nerd on the planet. Like I woke up with Harry Knowles. Or to make it grosser and more soulless, Harry Knowles crossed with Michael Bay. But what can I say? OK, OK, I’ll admit it; I have a *cocaine problem. Rehab's been tough. I relapsed and well, that ape was just there--for three hours. By the way, I'm joking about the cocaine (please read below). And I don't really care who knows that I like Kong (please read top ten list).
3. 1967 Pontiac GTO I’ve seen a black one in my neighborhood and the car is so goddamned beautiful it fills me with desirous pain. *I still don’t know who owns it (Xander Cage?) but, whoever he/she is (God it would be so awesome if a chick was driving that car) I want to become their best friend. Maybe they’re an alcoholic. Designated driver please?
*Note: To those who emailed confused/concerned about my cocaine joke, let me clear this up. I don't have a cocaine problem! I don't even like cocaine. The stuff makes me have anxiety attacks. I hate having to write this because now I sound like a liar. Like, I don't kill kittens! Jesus people! What's wrong with you? Why would you think I bagged a cat and threw it out my car window on the freeway? I never did that! I just said I liked King Kong!
*Note: Update on who owns the GTO. Some middle aged, rich asshole who probably listens to Velvet Revolver and U2 (when he's feeling "sensitive"). Sorry, rich people don't deserve muscle cars. Only the gear headed and the poor. And Warren Oates--no matter how little he knows about cars in "Two Lane Blacktop."