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Musical Theater

4/7/2011

2 Comments

 
Good evening rockin' readers.  Tonight let's talk about musical theater.  

I know that doesn't seem like a very cool subject, but let's face it: most of us--at one time or another--have watched a musical  and we LOVED  it.

I admit that musicals are cheesy.  Take West Side Story for example.  It starts out with some good action and then all of a sudden, out of the clear blue sky, the dudes are dancing in the street singing about how COOL it is to be a Jet.  

To be clear, they're not just "dancing" . . . they're. . . well . . . BALLET-ing for crying out loud!  And, interestingly enough, it really IS  cool.  All of a sudden you're tapping your toes, singing along and thinking to yourself, "Yeah, man, I want to join a gang  just so I can pas de bourre'e like those cats!"

That's the genius of musicals.  Take any crazy scenario, set it to jaunty ditties and voila'!  You have a winning combination!  Think about Little Shop of Horrors for example, with its rockin' big carnivorous plant.  No way is that show any good without the plant singing, "I'm a mean green mother from outer space--and I'm BAD!"  

Implausible?  Maybe.   But its AWESOME!

What about The Sound of Music?  I once wrote a Haiku that pretty much sums up this musical:

                                                                            Nazis and Nuns sing
                                                                   showtunes in Austrian Alps
                                                                         a bunch of Von Crapp 


Now I know there are like a g-zillion Sound of Music fans out there; and on the off-chance that someone besides my mom and my neighbor read this blog, I simply want to point out that I am a HUGE fan as well.  

I have seen that movie about a hundred times and I STILL get teary when the Von Trapps (spoiler alert) cross the alps and escape from the Germans.  

It makes ME want to climb every mountain.

So how does this relate to Rock and Roll?  It doesn't.  But I was thinking:  If I could choose my favorite rock stars to play the leading role in a musical--who would I pick?  

The following is my list:
  • Ian Anderson - Tevye in Fiddler on the roof (he's got a great beard)
  • Meatloaf - Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls
  • Steven Tyler -  Harold Hill in The Music Man (could anyone ELSE be the Music Man?)
  • Axl Rose - The Phantom in Phantom of the Opera 
  • Bono - Arthur in Camelot 
  • Ringo Starr - Curly in Oklahoma, (but only if Barbara Bach played Ado Annie)
  • Ozzy Osbourne - Javert in Les Miserables 
  • Elvis - Hugo Peabody in Bye Bye Birdie (almost seems like typecasting)
  • Sinead O'connor - any nun in The Sound of Music
These are just a few that I could think of off the top of my head.  

Leave a post if you have any good casting ideas your own.  
2 Comments

MY ROCKIN' BUDDIES

3/28/2011

1 Comment

 
The beauty of creating your own blog is that you get to say whatever you want.  We live in a world where information can be communicated instantaneously.  So I feel free to blog  about whatever topic happens to pop into my mind.  

Life is typically a stream-of-conscience existence.  Oh sure, we plan the big things: I didn't ask just ANYONE to marry me for example .  I planned that one ahead. Serious planning.  Planning that included strategy, patience and just the slightest of con.  It worked--and I have been happily married for, lo these many years. 

I think my wife is happy too. . . .

But the mundane things, the day-to-day trivial matters that don't really affect us, are often spontaneous, surprising and sometimes turn out to be life altering. 

Like the day I met my best friends.  

I have two very good friends.  They are family.  Brothers from another mother you might say. Except they really have been as close to me as actual brothers.  We have been friends for many years.  One I met in the first grade--the other I met (through the first friend) in high school.  It's odd to keep in touch after graduating from high school, but for some reason these guys keep letting me hang out with them.  I once asked my mother if she paid them to be my friends.  She denied any such bribery, but I still suspect a payoff. 

There was no calculation to our becoming friends, no thought preceded action, just a serendipitous aligning of the stars.  One day we didn't know each other--the next day we were inseparable buddies.  

Boom! 

Spontaneous?  Sure. Surprising? Yep.  Life altering? Absolutely.

I know everyone has friends.  But these guys are the best. They have laughed with me, cheered me up when I was blue, put up with my crap and pushed my 1976 Ford Pinto backwards for two miles (because there was a train stopped on the tracks and my car wouldn't go into reverse). 

We have fought, sworn at each other, sworn never again to speak to one another, confided in each other and consoled each other at some of our worst moments.

We have been to some great rock concerts together: Billy Joel, Elton John, Joan Jett, Quiet Riot, Jethro Tull, Three Dog Night and a few more that I wont mention because I would be embarrassed. (Trust me, even more embarrassed than Quiet Riot).

We have played together, attended each others' weddings, congratulated each other when our kids were born and best of all, we married women who were already good friends before we even met them.  So when we all get together, our wives not only don't care if we go golfing or anywhere else for that matter--they actually ENCOURAGE us to get lost.

Life altering?  Are you kidding me?

As I become middle-aged, I recognize that I have a good life.  I love my wife.  I love my kids.  I earn enough money to keep myself in blu-ray discs and concert tickets.  I also have two lifelong friends: brothers who will watch the blu-rays and go with me to the concerts. 

I guess there are many things I could wish for in this life, but none are more important than the ones I just listed.

The  number of things I am grateful for is  enormous.  So many blessings--so little space to list them all.  But tonight rockin' readers of my blog, I need to tell  a couple of guys how glad I am that they are still my friends.  They know who they are.

Thanks, guys.  

Life wouldn't be the same without you.



1 Comment

THAT ROCKS!

3/7/2011

3 Comments

 
"That Rocks!"  

How many times a week do we hear that phrase?

I don't know who coined the phrase or even when, but I know what it means and I know from where it was derived:  Rock and Roll, baby.  

Rock  is awesome!  It kicks butt!  It rules!  It . . . well . . . IT ROCKS!!

Rock can be a paradox.  It is both pretentious and humble; uncivilized and inspiring; wild and uplifting and savage and ethereal. 

Rock comes is a variety of packages  and flavors--some of which appeal to the masses and others that have a quaint following with a more "selective taste."

Whichever "brand" of rock you choose, you do so because it speaks to you.  It has meaning that cannot always be articulated, but it is tangible and easily recognized.  Rock is something that is experienced--and often felt deeply in the gut.  And when it's good, man, it's GREAT.   

That's where the term "That Rocks" comes from.  From that feeling we get when things are going great and we feel good and the Universe is somehow aligned in just the right way.  

Rock isn't the only thing that rocks.  Lots of things rock.  However, some things DON'T rock.  I know this will sound cliche', but brussel sprouts don't rock.  They suck.  You know what else doesn't rock?  George Bush doesn't rock.  Neither of them.   Neckties don't rock nor do cats.  I don't mean to offend cat lovers in general, but cats suck.  Dogs rock, cats do not.  People who are flatulent in confined spaces do not rock.  I have nothing against passing gas in general, just don't do it  where I might become imprisoned for any length of time with no hope for escape.   

Even some Rock doesn't rock.  Take REO Speedwagon for example.  They are the un-rockingest rockers of all time. REO Speedwagon is the musical version of a fart in an elevator. 

But I digress. . . . 

There are many great things.  Things that truly rock.  A good movie rocks.  Take True Grit for example--either of them--they rock.  The Duke and The Dude both rock and that's a fact. Good food rocks; so do good friends and I have the rockingest friends in the whole world.  I also have a rockin' wife and two rockin' kids and when you start to count your blessings and you find that there are way more blessings than things that suck -- well that rocks too.

Having integrity rocks.  So does honesty.  Teaching your kids integrity and honesty by example rocks even more.  There is so much in life that rocks, but waking up in the morning and being able to look at yourself in the mirror and like what you see ranks right up there at the top.

You may agree with me about all or some of what I have written or you may simply disagree.  That's ok.  I respect you.   It's true what they say, you know:  perception really is reality.

And right now, my reality ROCKS!
3 Comments

SAY IT AIN'T SO STEVEN TYLER

2/5/2011

0 Comments

 
So . . . I was freaked out--just like many other rock fans--when I heard Steven Tyler was going to replace Simon Cowell on American Idol.  

Let's be clear about something:  I have never followed American Idol.  I am not a fan of the show.  I have seen pieces of episodes as I've  flipped through the channels, and have been less than impressed with the  loathsome, vibrato-laden cacophony that shrills into my family room. I hate all those songs that barely rank higher than Muzac, belted out by a bunch of Mariah Carey/Justin Bieber wannabes who couldn't carry a tune with an industrial-strength wheelbarrow.  And of course, these are the contestants that are ALLOWED to go to Hollywood.  

(As a side note, since I have mentioned his name, I recently saw a post on Facebook that said, "Dear God, we will gladly give you Justin Bieber--if you'll just send John Lennon back."  Now, I don't think this is very nice.  John Lennon is worth WAY more than Justin Bieber.  That's not a fair trade at all.  To get John Lennon back I think we'd have to trade Eric Clapton, Bono, Ringo Starr, all of the Eagles, and Bill Clinton.)

Anyway . . .

I don't like American Idol. For me, the biggest problem with the show is that it always seems to place image over ability.  Appearance over aptitude.  Style over substance.  Are we so obsessed with creating the perfect looking "Idol" that we don't really care about the music anymore?  Hence my aforementioned freaking out when Fox announced the new line-up of judges on this ridiculous show. 

Steven Tyler is a rock legend.  He is one of, if not the greatest, front men of all time.  He's loud, he's obnoxious, he's rude and he's amazingly talented.  Why Steven?  Why, oh why would you stoop to this level?  Is it so important to remain in the public eye that you would sell your rock and roll soul so cheaply?

But then, out of morbid curiosity, I tuned in to the show just to see what I assumed would be a total train wreck, only to be pleasantly surprised.  Oh, the contestants were the same. They shrilled the same old, tired musical stylings of Spears and Beyonce, but Steven Tyler brought a fresh new perspective to the judges table.  

Let's face it.  The man is talented  . . . and during the ONE time I will ever watch an Idol epsiode in it's entirety, I found him to be insightful, funny and most of all, sincere.  He wasn't mean--which I always disliked about Simon Cowell, but it was obvious that he suffered when a contestant had no talent.  He offered advice that made sense and was, most of all, germane for someone who wanted to be successful in the business.  At times, he sang with some of the contestants and we were reminded that he REALLY does know what he's talking about and that the vocals on his albums are all his--and not doctored up with technology to make him sound better.

He was also genuine.  In the short time I watched the show, he seemed like he was simply enjoying himself.  A contestant appeared and told the story of his fiance who had suffered brain damage in a car accident two months before their wedding.  The pair were still engaged and he was taking care of her.  It was a sad story which made for good TV, but then the guy sang.  And he could sing.  He could REALLY sing.  The judges were impressed by the performance, but Tyler seemed to be genuinely moved.  After the audition, the judges asked to meet the contestant's fiance and they were all very nice---Tyler particularly when he leaned over and kissed the girl on the cheek and told her that her boyfriend sang beautifully.


It was a sincerely-felt comment, oblivious of the TV cameras, and I was impressed by his kindness toward a couple of people that he had just met.  

I don't have the time--or the inclination--to watch American Idol again.  But I have to admit that I came away with even more respect for Steven Tyler.  I still don't fully get why he wants to be on the show, but there is one thing that is enduring and incontrovertible:  

Steven Tyler is really cool, man.

0 Comments

TRYING TO BE COOL

1/28/2011

4 Comments

 
I have never been cool.  Oh, there was a time in high school when I thought I might be cool, but I wasn't.  It was just wishful thinking on my part.  I have to admit that I didn't really mind being dorky - mostly - but every once in a while, I longed to be cooler than I was fated to be.  No one thinks I'm cool.  Not my wife.  Not my kids.  Not even my parents.  My DOG thinks I'm cool, but that's meaningless because he's even dorkier than I am. . . .

Which sets up the story of how I became utterly and completely hooked on Rock and Roll.

In 1981, at the age of 15, I heard ZZ Top for the very first time.  I hadn't had the opportunity to hear very many groups because my parents HATED rock music and rock stars.  Rock was a "bad influence" and all rock stars were "degenerates".  So when I started working at my first job (washing dishes in a pizza restaurant) I was lucky enough to work with a bunch of guys who loved rock and loved to listen to it loud!  We listened to the radio all night while we worked and a whole new world opened up to me.  When I heard ZZ Top the first time, I was blown away by their originality and their sound.  When the radio station announced that they were coming to town I headed to the local record store and bought my ticket.  

I believed buying that ticket was a great idea for two reasons: 1) I really wanted to see ZZ Top; and 2) cool people went to rock concerts - - I would be cool by association.

My first obstacle was telling my mom.  I did not tell my dad--I would not be here typing this blog today if I had.  I figured I would never obtain permission, so I decided to beg for forgiveness--and a ride to the concert since I was too young to drive.  My mom wasn't very happy, but to her credit (and my joy) she relented and a couple of weeks later, she dropped me off in front of the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City.

When I walked into the venue, I felt like I had entered a whole new world.  I was young, I was naive and I was a little scared.  I had never seen anyone like some of the people that were there that night.  There were people my age, people much older, people with strange hair, no hair, multi-colored hair, and there was a lady who was somewhere between 55 and 106 years old wearing a leather outfit that was both interesting and horrifying at the same time.

I found my seat and waited for the concert to start.  They guys next to me were older, hippies, very friendly and drinking freely.  They said "man" a lot and asked me if this was my first concert.  I told them it was. which they found highly amusing and also reason to buy another round of beers.  For the rest of the night, they all called me "Z Man" -- which made me feel cool.  "Z Man, isn't this concert awesome!"  "Z Man, the Top rocks man!"  "Z Man, the laser show is freaky!" and "Sorry I spilled my beer on your foot Z Man!"


They were genuinely friendly and I have never forgotten them.

The show was amazing, and I was hooked.  From that night on, I worked for the sole purpose of earning money to go to more concerts.  26 years later, I took my wife to see ZZ Top again.  It was my fourth ticket to see them.  This one cost me about ten times the amount of my first ticket and it was worth every penny.

ZZ Top is not my favorite group, but I feel a kinship with Dusty, Billy and Frank.  Going to see them that first time never made me one bit cooler--in fact I am even less cool.  I am embarrassed to admit that I now own a PT Cruiser just because it reminds me of their Eliminator car.

I may not be cool.  But I am happy.  And if you're happy then nothing else matters. 


Right?
4 Comments

    Author

    Tim likes to listen to music, watch movies, write lame poems, and wear a snuggie to keep warm.  

    At his age he has stopped stressing about things that used to be important to him.  Like his image
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