Call me a grouchie old man. . .

"Bill, you're a grouchie old man."

I know. But, Hey!, I've been sitting here the past couple of months fully aware that a drought of unprecedented proportions is settling in on Southern California and surrounding areas. And yet, every time  I turn on the TV with my fingers crossed, invariably the brain dead, rip 'n' read weathercasters editorialize on the weather and qvell about how "it's going to be another nice one today."  I know that there's a drought on the way and they don't????? 

It's the closest I've ever come to hurling a missile through the TV screen!

I heard one of these nitwits still (pardon the neologism) indroning on about "wonderful blue skies" o this very a.m., then pausing a beat and adding soto voce, "But I guess we could use the rain." Well, dunh!

If weather patterns don't change by any later than yesterday, before it's all over---and I DO mean all over--- we're going to be getting our water in SoCal from National Guard tanker trucks.

And how soon will it be before a total moritorium is declared on watering the hundreds upon hundreds of golf greens around the state? Which would you rather have 1. A dehydrated baby or 2. A hole in one?

As of today I'm leading a personal crusade to: "If it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's brown, flush it down."

The final days, I tell you, the final days. Beyonce with seventeen Grammys. I rest my case.

 

Pass the razor blades, please

It is not only the "younger" generation who can't even bend over to tie their shoes much less tell you who wrote "Rhapsody in Blue." A couple of days ago I spoke on the phone with a family member whose deceased relative was one of the major movers and shakers of the U.S. music industry (when there was still music) for many years. Alas, not only did I sense no familial concept of the person's importance, but was told that there were no papers or archives remaining. "We've just all moved so many times," she said. "I have a nice photo of him, though."

I'm still reeling from the sadness of it all. We are simply NOT---unlike most of the rest of the so-called civilized world---a nation of cultural conservators. Nelson who? Vic who? The Four what? Ella who? Ira who? Probably the "average" French truck driver can tell you who Jean Cocteau is, even if he/she has never directly encountered his works.

This morning on TV I saw a football player employ the phrase "raceful comments." Is it just me or shouldn't the reporter have informed the brain-dead jock that there was no such word as "raceful" and allowed him to do a second take?

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

Take Note Chet Baker fans

An anniversary. . .of sorts

 

March 2 marks the 15th "anniversary" of the death of Dusty Springfield. I once saw her perform in concert and rave-reviewed her. She called the newspaper to thank me. I've never seen a better "live" performance. One of the few "troubled" stars to've finally landed back on her feet. Also the first to cop to being BI, and also to speak out against apartheid in South Africa. AND. . despite her so-called "difficult" temperament in the recording studio, she sure did turn out a lot of great sides. Hundreds. Not a lemon in the lot. See Dennis Cooper's blog today for David Ehrenstein's tribute to Dame Dusty.