Author: LobaBlanca

Flashback Friday: Wayne’s World

~ LobaBlanca

As I was driving home this evening, listening to one of the greatest movie soundtracks ever put together, it occurred to me that I have yet to write about the movie that spawned said soundtrack. This, denizens, is a travesty of epic proportions.

waynesworld

Sha. Right.

Seriously, Wayne’s World is one of the few movies from which I still consistently quote, even more than 20 years after its release (some might say that’s sad; I say it proves I’m completely committed to Sparkle Motion in ways that only true film geeks can understand). I adore Mike Myers in possibly unnatural ways…although not enough to forgive him for the third Austin Powers movie…and definitely not enough to even go near that Love Guru movie.

Of course, I love Austin Powers (mostly the second one, but some of the first). I also think that So I Married an Axe Murderer is one of the most brilliant comedies in existence. And, yes, I even own the first two Shrek movies. But? My heart belongs to Wayne Campbell.

Hi, Wayne.

//www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/175DTYVpJOQ

[Loba Tangent: Hey, did you know that Patricia Tallman was Lara Flynn Boyle’s stunt double in that scene? Well, now you do.]

Simply put, Wayne Campbell and his best friend and co-host Garth Algar just worked. They worked right from the start as a Saturday Night Live skit all about two guys who obstinately refused to grow up, instead seeking refuge from a fast-paced, demanding world for which they had no use…in Wayne’s mother’s basement, of all places, playing TV hosts for a cable access channel in Aurora, Illinois, and not only tapping into the pop culture lexicon of that moment in time, but ultimately shaping it.

Plus, they interviewed Aerosmith.

[hulu id=md4lshsv4nuxbad8sf-mdw width=512]

We’re not worthy! We’re not worthy!

I can’t even call Wayne and Garth slackers, because they weren’t. They were doing exactly what they wanted to do…what they were meant to do. And they worked damned hard to be the very best cable access channel hosts they could possibly be. Plus, theirs was a humor instantly accessible to my generation. We immediately grasped their reverence and references and we loved them in ways that made us feel kinda funny, like when we used to climb the rope in gym class.

Schwing!

Enough pontificating. This is just a damn funny movie. It’s not the kind of movie that you have to be “in a mood” to watch. It’s the kind of movie that puts you in a better mood. It’s silly, it’s clever, it’s funny, it’s got Alice Cooper giving a history lesson and Rob Lowe as a slime ball and random Chris Farley and Tia Carrere in a “Ballroom Blitz” and Garth…Garth, adorable, wonderful Garth…and the Mirthmobile and Babe-raham Lincoln and sexy Bugs Bunny as a girl bunny and “She will be mine. Oh Yes, she will be mine” and Wayne and Garth dressed up like Laverne and Shirley and a million other moments that need to be captured and quoted and remembered and adored if only for the simple fact that when you watch this movie, you laugh and you forget about everything that makes Wayne and Garth stay in that basement, broadcasting their late-night show in the first place.

Plus, as I mentioned at the very beginning of this post, the soundtrack can still lift me straight out of whatever foul mood I might be in at the moment and send me skyrocketing into a far happier place. With names like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jimi Hendrix, Alice Cooper, Eric Clapton, Black Sabbath…really, you’re just guaranteed a solid set of songs designed for rocking out. And, of course, the greatest song of them all…the one that the entirety of the universe knew by the time this movie was out of theaters. The one that I still know every word to, and will sing along (and bang my head at the duly appointed moment) whenever I hear it…the very song that made me realize that I needed more Freddie Mercury in my life…

//www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/d7nOO4BeG54

Yes. Yes, I did just bang my head when I watched to this video. And I’m going to do it again as soon as I post this flashback. I suggest you do the same.

Party on, Wayne! Party on, Garth!

BookBin2013: Lucille

~ LobaBlanca

lucille

You might just want to skip this review, denizens, because I’m going to let you know right now: It’s going to be short and unsatisfying.

And, yes, that’s what she said. [ba-dum-tssh]

Ludovic Debeurme’s rather large graphic novel Lucille (I do believe it’s slightly more than 500 pages) is the story of two troubled teenagers

BookBin2013: My Friend Dahmer

~ LobaBlanca

mfd

I confess that I borrowed Derf Backderf’s graphic novel, My Friend Dahmer, from the library for equal parts earnest interest in and morbid curiosity about the early life of Jeffrey Dahmer. For those who don’t know who Dahmer is, he was found guilty of incredibly heinous crimes and sentenced to prison, where he was later slain by a fellow inmate. I don’t really want to go into any more detail than that, simply because I’m willing to bet you already know more than enough about what he did.

What you don’t know is why he did what he did. Neither do I, even after reading this novel. I suppose I didn’t really expect to find any concrete answers. I did expect a bit more insight than what Backderf provided. I think, though, for all his claims that he was doing this project out of a need to explore his past relationship with Dahmer and try to understand what happened that led Dahmer from who Backderf knew in high school to who he became, Backderf simply wasn’t up to the task of providing the “objective” look that he said he wanted to give readers. In fact, even though he claims at the beginning of the novel to want to give a more sympathetic look at the events of Dahmer’s youth that could have led him to commit such horrific acts, he then almost immediately calls Dahmer a monster undeserving of empathy.

For a bit of backstory, “Derf” Backderf (his real name is John) was in the same high school class as Dahmer, ran in the same circle of maligned geeks, nerds, and social misfits

Poster Picks: X-Men: Days of Future Past

~ LobaBlanca

Foregoing Flashback Friday this week because…well, because I’m not really in a reminiscent mood this evening. Although, I suppose that’s a bit of a lie, since I’m instead reviving a lamentably ignored featured series (lamented, I’m sure, mainly by me).

As I’m sure you’ve no doubt deduced, I’m a bit of a geek about many things, including comic books. I’m not quite Comic Book Guy-level geeky (Worst. Confession. Ever.), but I can hold my own when it comes to certain comics. One of my absolute favorite series belongs to those band of merry mutants, the X-Men. I was massively disappointed in the last of the first round of X-Men movies (so disappointed that I apparently wanted to try Bryan Singer for multiple counts of mutanticide).

I must confess, though, that I was pleasantly surprised by the…whatever they want to call X-Men: First Class (What was it? Reboot? Prequel? Preboot?). By going back to the very beginning, the movie succeeded in at least distilling the horrible taste left by X-Men: The Last Bland Stand.

Needless to say, First Class did well enough to actually warrant a sequel (Sequeboot?). Thus, X-Men: Days of Future Past. I’m equal parts excited and terrified about this one, denizens. It’s based on another John Byrne/Chris Claremont story, just like part of X-Men: The Last Stand. It’s also directed by Bryan Singer, just like Last Stand was supposed to be before Singer bailed to give us Stripper-Pole Panty Superman.

Thanks for that. Really.

Regardless of my worries and excitement about the movie, I’m here now to share what I consider one of the most wonderful movie poster designs I’ve seen in a very long time. Surprisingly enough, the entirety of the design is a massive head shot, one of Sir Patrick Stewart as Charles Xavier and one of Sir Ian McKellen as Magneto. You might remember in my first Poster Pick that I took the piss out of posters that relied heavily on showing only head shots of the movie’s star(s) rather than putting any effort into a creative design.

These two head shot posters, however, actually do rely on a lovely bit of creative zing, incredibly simple in concept but a tricky gamble in execution. You see, while the primary design elements are close-ups of Stewart and McKellen, each face contains a great surprise. A red X cuts across McKellen’s face. Look closely and you’ll realize that the X has revealed the face of Michael Fassbender, the young Magneto from First Class, beneath the older Magneto’s skin. Same with Stewart’s face

BookBin2013: Walk This Way: The Autobiography of Aerosmith

~ LobaBlanca

wtw_aerosmith

Here it comes, denizens: Finally, the review of the book I have been wading through for more time than I ever expected it to take. However, when you’re trying to read up on the history of one of the longest-lasting (and still-going) hard rock bands in American history…well, it’s going to take a little bit of time.

And so it went with the Aerosmith autobiography Walk This Way. Released in 1997, this “autobiography” is more a running transcript of author Stephen Davis’s extremely long, extremely in-depth conversation with each member of the band, their managers, their producers, their road crew, their wives, their exes, their dealers, their groupies, their pets, their instruments, their cars, their everything.

Okay, not that in-depth. Still, Davis does a fantastic job of capturing every last snortable, injectable, drinkable side of this quintessential hard rock quintet. It’s all there: The beginnings, the early fame, the women, the drugs, the breakup, the drying out, the resurrection, the continuation, the very essence of what makes this band so very…Aerosmith. Two things you will undoubtedly walk away pondering if you read this book will be that: 1) the original band is still together; 2) the original band is still alive.

I already knew that Aerosmith was a heavily drugged band back in the 70s. Honestly, I already knew quite a lot of what the band talked about in this book. I didn’t grow up listening to a lot of current music when I was a kid, so I was way late to the rock bandwagon. It probably explains why I have such eclectic musical preferences. I had a lot of catching up to do. It also might explain why I have a small group of musicians to whom I am rabidly devoted. And Aerosmith? They’re right at the top of this very short list. I’ve written before about how this was pretty much the band that kick-started my journey into popular music, thanks to that saucy video for their song “Dude (Looks Like a Lady).”

From that point on, I was hooked on this group. They were the first band I ever saw in concert (and I count myself incredibly lucky to have seen them when Tyler was still able to do his trademark backflips…without tumbling off the stage into the audience). I have almost every single one of their albums, minus a few bootlegs (unfortunately, yes, I also bought Just Push Play…no one is more saddened by this than me, I can assure you). This is probably the only musical group for which I can actually name every single band member. For years, I devoured everything I could about them. I know all about the Toxic Twins World Tour (and have yet to give up on my search for my own T-shirt), their ups, their downs, their fights, their comebacks…whatever. And I still love them. I always have and I always will.

The one thing that I don’t really love is their history with substance abuse, which this book details to excruciating levels. I know that drugs play an overwhelmingly prevalent part in many creative fields, but especially music. Perhaps drugs help release parts of our creative energy and abilities that we might never explore without their help. Maybe they help slow down the creative flow enough for us to be able to handle it all. Maybe there are other factors there that I have never considered. I don’t know. I do know, however, that each member of Aerosmith nearly killed themselves in one drug- or alcohol-related way or another. Perry ended up having seizures. Kramer, Hamilton, and Whitford all had major auto accidents, and Tyler admits that he lost almost everything, including about 20 years of his life, because he was busy “snorting my car, my plane, my house, and half of Columbia.”

Drugs and alcohol pretty much nearly destroyed the band’s future as well. Their collective relationship is a tumultuous one anyway, which I suppose is not that odd considering it’s five exceptionally talented musicians all vying for their place in the band’s pecking order while trying to write new music, tour, do PR, enjoy their success, keep their success going, while also trying to live life in the two seconds of downtime they get before the cycle starts all over again. However, add cocaine, heroin, crystal meth, booze, pot, Tuinals, and…well, there is a reason why Steven Tyler and Joe Perry were known as the Toxic Twins. The drugs didn’t enhance the creative energies when the group was knee-deep in China white. All the drugs did was exacerbate problems, deepen wounds, increase egos, and speed up the inevitable fallout when Joe Perry left behind his Toxic Twin for his own record deal, and Brad Whitford soon followed him.

Whatever my feelings about drug use might be (and it’s an admittedly muddled one), I’m so glad the group cleaned itself up and came back together, because the end result is what I would consider to be the strongest era of their professional careers. As much as I love so much of their early music (and, I don’t care how cliched many people consider it to be, I still think that Tyler’s “Dream On” is one of the most honest and beautiful songs I have ever heard, and becomes increasingly more poignant the older he gets), to me, quintessential Aerosmith spans from their 1987 release Permanent Vacation through their 1997 release Nine Lives, with their 1989 release Pump being, hands-down, my all-time favorite of their albums. While there are many individual songs from their career that I might select above any of my favorites from this particular album, Pump is the one I choose whenever I want a nice solid, uninterrupted injection of what I consider pure Aerosmith. Plus, I have to give the MTV influence its due once again. The videos for songs from this album also stand as some of my favorites, including the David Fincher-directed video for Tyler’s amazing song “Janie’s Got a Gun.”

Okay, I’ve been fighting the urge to turn this book review into a video and photo gush fest, but I have to leave this here:

//www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/RqQn2ADZE1A

And now that I’ve opened that floodgate, I’m just going to stop now before it gets worse. Just know this: If this rather long-winded review (which hasn’t really been a review…but it has been…kind of like this is an autobiography, but not really) actually piqued your interest in this group rather than made you want to run screaming in the opposite direction, then you might want to give Walk This Way a go. It’s straight from all their mouths, and I kind of get the impression that there wasn’t a whole lot of filtering going on, either on their parts or on Davis’s part. Plus, it’s strewn with photos of the guys pre-Aerosmith, early years, and up to Nine Lives, which is when this book finally concludes. Who doesn’t love photos? Who doesn’t love Aerosmith?

Be very careful how you answer that last question…

Final Verdict: Do you really need to ask this? Here, just enjoy this early photo of Aerosmith instead…

youngaerosmith

A Decade of Howling

~ LobaBlanca

On July 15, 2003, I wrote the following on my newly launched Web site’s blog, which I had originally named “incite.thought”:

7.15.03
I suppose this part of my site now makes me a blogger. I’ll try to be pithy and poignant in my ramblings. Sometimes I hope I’ll even be funny or provocative. This entry, however, is for something that’s been driving me crazy all summer: The Dixie Chicks. I have three things to say about this “issue,” and then I’ll let it rest: 1) The First Amendment to the very American Constitution reads in part, “Congress shall make no law…abridging the freedom of speech…”; 2) Theodore Roosevelt stated in 1918, “To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public”; and 3) French philosopher and writer Voltaire stated, “I may not agree with what you have to say, but I shall defend to the death your right to say it.”

So, rage more, Natalie…

And thus I began what has turned into a decade-long, rip-roaring road through politics, geekery, PhotoShop trickery, Flashback Fridays, Poster Picks, BookBins, DVDDregs, snarkiness, weirdness, writing snippets, travels, photos, MOAR RAMBLING, and all variety of loopy lupine craziness.

True, recent changes have currently made it a bit more difficult for me to find the time or creative energy to visit the lair with as much frequency as I used to (or still want to), but I love my little corner of teh Interwebz and I love all my wonderful denizens (especially those who have been visiting here so long they remember when I used to call you all my “snoggees”) for continuing to be interested in whatever it is I’ve got on the menu here at Chez Loba.

Thank you all for sticking with me, for finding me anew, for stumbling upon me and not wanting to leave just yet, or for just passing through. I have no plans to stop rambling just yet, so keep me bookmarked and keep that RSS feed loading!

BookBin2013: Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void

~ LobaBlanca

Layout 1

I’ve been slowly whittling away on a book from my own collection that has proven to be quite a journey (note that I did not use a pejorative, like “slog” or “ordeal”; it’s been an interesting read, but also a very full read). However, I set this particular book aside for a little while (because, honestly, you need a break from even enjoyable things when they go on for too long) to read the latest book from Mary Roach, Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void.

For those of you who are not familiar with Roach, she’s made a bit of a name for herself by writing “curious” examinations of topics that I assume pique her interest: Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, and Six Feet Over: Adventures in the Afterlife. I actually received Stiff as a Christmas present from my parents almost 10 years ago (which speaks volumes about: A) how sad my book backlog really is; and B) the types of books that make my dad think of me). After reading Packing for Mars, I’ve made a deal with myself that I really should try to fit Stiff in at some point this year.

Hopefully.

So I’m going to do that cop-out thing again and post the dust jacket description. Really, though, it’s quite a well-written summary, and I always like to give credit when it’s due:

Space is a world devoid of the things we need to live and thrive: air, gravity, hot showers, fresh produce, privacy, beer. Space exploration is in some ways an exploration of what it means to be human. How much can a person give up? How much weirdness can they take? What happens to you when you can

Photo Fun Friday: Easy Riker

~ LobaBlanca

I cannot take full credit for this idea. The original concept was brought to my attention by my most devilish ImagiFriendTM via a doctored image he found that was funny in concept but so visually awful it burned me to my PhotoShop-loving core. I said that I wanted to fix the poster.

So I did.

I decided to use beardless Riker, because I kind of think Q was right: He was more fun before the beard. He had a boyish charm and impulsiveness that I feel better matches the Easy Rider spirit (plus, this was just a great screen capture of early Commander Riker that I couldn’t resist using it).

I also added a new riding companion for “Easy Riker.” I thought about adding Deanna, just for the LOL factor, but I decided that the idea of Worf on a motorcycle amused me even more.

“I must protest! I am NOT a toking hippie!”

easyriker

Flashback Friday: Very Necessary

~ LobaBlanca

snpvn

I feel as though this flashback should actually be on Salt-N-Pepa rather than just one of their albums, since they played such a pivotal role in defining my early musical tastes. Plus, if I were to select one album from their catalog as their strongest or best, it wouldn’t be Very Necessary. It would probably be their third album, Black’s Magic, which, track for track, is their most solid offering from their unfortunately short-lived career.

Still, for nostalgic reasons, I’ve decided to go with their fourth album, which released the year I was a high school senior. I’m going with this one for a couple of reasons. First, this was one of the last rap/R&B albums I ever bought. I spent a good portion of my middle school and high school days memorizing the lyrics to all variety of rap songs from all variety of artists I’ve mentioned here before. However, with the shift in mainstream rap leading to less provocative, more violent artists offering less creative, more misogynistic music, I began to shift away from the genre. Plus, I was beginning to finally feel the flannel pull. By my freshman year of college, I was well into alternative music…not to mention that strange interlude I had with country music (that I admittedly still slightly cling to through my continued love of Terri Clark and the Dixie Chicks in all their iterations).

Second reason I chose Very Necessary is because it was pretty much the soundtrack of my final year of high school…at least the commuting part. My little nerdly Chevette had a tape deck that fed into the tiniest, tinniest speakers you could possibly imagine. Seriously, I’m willing to bet that some of you have better speakers on your smartphones than my little Chevette had. Still, it was sound. Sound of any kind was good. And so I dubbed several of my favorite CDs onto tapes (Memorex, natch) and would listen to them during my 15-minute drive from home to school, always being sure to eject the tape and turn off the radio before I pulled into the parking lot. Remember, I went to a religious school and I highly doubt they would have been grooved by such lyrical scripture as:

You couldn’t hump me if my first name was Cooty Cat
Your little jimmy can’t even hold your zipper back

Call me crazy, but I think that would have landed me in the pastor’s office faster than that short dress I wore for my junior year picture day…but that’s another story for another time.

And, yes, Salt-N-Pepa’s lyrics were profane, sexual, sensual, and sometimes just downright naughty. One of the things that I love about their lyrics, though, is that, while they were sexual, they always conveyed a sense of female strength and resiliency and self-respect (although, admittedly, I’m not going to be picking any of those songs here…they’re more from earlier albums…sorry). However, they also weren’t always what we would now call “PC.” For example, in “Shoop,” their second biggest hit from this album, guest rapper Big ‘Twan says “Twelve inches to a yard and have you sounding like a retard” during his interlude. Even back in the day, this bit caused problems and most radio stations would bleep out the word “retard.” (Never mind the physical impossibility of the lyric anyway…a yard? Really? 36 inches? Right.) It’s a shame that they included Big ‘Twan at all in this song, which is one of my favorites (and also one that I can still rap in its entirety, either with or without rum accompaniment…although I have been told that “with rum” is a more entertaining delivery).

One of the other standouts from this album isn’t actually a song. It’s a public service announcement that the group included, inspired by Sandra “Pepa” Denton’s and Deidra “Spinderella” Roper’s work with HIV/AIDS awareness groups. The PSA, “I’ve Got AIDS” is the last track on the album. Listening to it now shows how far we have come in our understanding of the disease as well as how far medicine has come in controlling the virus and how much closer we are to finding a cure. Back then, though, it was something groundbreaking and, in some ways, controversial, to have these mainstream rappers giving time and space on their album to a PSA about what had for years been called “gay cancer.” Instead, Salt-N-Pepa were telling their fans, this is happening to all of us and it’s not going to stop until we’re all aware and looking for ways to prevent it and ways to cure it.

Oh, and for the record, the biggest hit not only of this album but probably also of their career was their duet with En Vogue, “Whatta Man.” Ironically, it’s one of my least favorite songs…but one that I still will stop to listen to if I hear it on the radio. Why don’t we just take a little break right now and listen to it, eh?

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/b9iDl1KIOTQ

And, of course, I’m going to leave “Shoop” right here…

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/4vaN01VLYSQ

And, as a bonus, I’m just going to leave this here, too. If you know me at all, denizens, you’ll understand…

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/q6Dqs2kmYHw

Flashback Friday: Whitney

~ LobaBlanca

I’m in a bit of a musical mood this evening, denizens. I’ve said before that I don’t really know all that much about music. If you want to read things written by someone who actually does know music, I’d recommend you go here.

No, I just want to write about the sentiments I feel when I think of certain songs or CDs or musicians. I just want to remember. I just wanna…dance with somebody…

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/eH3giaIzONA

I know, I know…that was a truly horrible segue. Whatever. Just watch the video. Watch happy, healthy Whitney. Watch that amazing eye makeup. Watch that hair. That hair! That hair screams 1980s louder than the highest note Whitney ever could hit.

It was the constant airtime rotation of this song and video that made Whitney the first CD I ever bought. I paid $30 for it at The Wall. Yeah, kiddies, you read that correctly. $30. For one CD. You know, it’s not really that difficult to understand why so many people turned to things like Napster so rapidly when they became available. Not that I’m condoning such behavior. But $30? For something that you can now download instantly from Amazon.com for $9.99? Ballsy, RIAA. Ballsy.

But I digress, per usual. I must have damned near worn out my little boom box playing this CD, not just because it was the only one I owned at the time, but because I enjoyed listening to every single song. They had catchy hooks, lots of 80s-era synth (which I apparently really enjoy), bubbly, bouncy lyrics, and Houston’s amazing voice.

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/0YjSHbA6HQQ

When I was in college, I sold my copy of this CD at the local used store for pocket money. I was well into my alternative rock phase by then; also, by that point in Houston’s career, she had already started turning into the sad punchline to her very unfunny personal joke. I didn’t want to watch this artist I had looked up to and adored so much as a child imploding in on herself in such a painfully public way. When she died, all I could think in the moment I heard the news was that hers was the first CD I ever bought. And I wished I could have it back.

More than that, I wished I could have that time back, if only for a moment…before Bobby Brown, before the drugs, before she was called difficult or a diva and the worst thing people were saying about her was that she might be gay. Really not that bad a rumor in comparison with what ultimately transpired, wouldn’t you say?

In 1987, though, she was perky, vivacious Whitney, belting out inescapably happy tunes, flouncing about in music videos with handsome male dancers and poorly CGIed bodyless dance shoes. And that hair.

That hair.

Only thing that could outclass that hair are the lapels from this live performance of one of my favorite songs from Whitney, “Love Will Save the Day.” She made performing seem so effortless in this video. Sadly, the white people caught on tape do not make dancing seem effortless. You’ll know them when you see them. Love wasn’t going to save that day…

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/GkhHbz-A_p0