Happy Fathers Day!
This week’s installment of A Hint of Mint features songs about dads. Some songs are better than others. Some dads are better than others.
[8tracks width=”300″ height=”250″ playops=”” url=”http://8tracks.com/mixes/6500785″]It’s Paula Abdul’s Birthday And I Need To Dance!
I was in my convertible car with my then-friend Victor, sitting in traffic on La Cienega Boulevard just below Sunset. It was late afternoon or evening a few months after I moved to Los Angeles. A convertible containing two young ladies pulled out of a parking garage onto La Cienega. They stopped next to us. One of the women excitedly told us “The lakers won!”
Victor and I looked at the lass and then each other. Neither of us knew to what she was referring. What is a laker? Someone who works on a lake, obviously, but what do they do on/to the lake? Was there an ongoing lake workers’ strike that finally ended when their greedy overlords caved in to their demands? Did the lake workers pool their money to buy Powerball tickets and succeed in matching each number? Who are these lakers, what did they win, and how does this benefit Victor and me?
That we didn’t respond quickly and with equal enthusiasm upset the woman who shared with us this news. “I was going to tell you guys you’re cute, but I changed my mind.” Oh, darn. The traffic moved and off we went. I made a left on Sunset; the woman went right.
Victor and I went for chocolate malts at Mel’s Drive-In, where we learned that the Lakers are a local basketball team. Oh, those Lakers! I heard of them. They gave us Paula Abdul. She was an LA Lakers cheerleader before she became a well-known choreographer/”singer”/reality show judge. If only those ladies said to Victor and me “The basketball team for which Paula Abdul was a cheerleader in the early eighties won a game today,” they may have gotten lucky with two cute guys.
Today Paula Abdul turns 53 years old. We kick off our weekly dance party with “Straight Up.”
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A Hint Of Mint – Volume 7: Summer
Twenty songs with “summer” or some variation thereof in the title, performed by friends of Dorothy and friends of friends of Dorothy
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It’s Robyn’s Birthday And I Need To Dance!
Another New York Moment
In those halcyon days before we thought about skin cancer, when David Dinkins was the mayor of New York City, Kathy and I would go to Central Park to tan. Usually we spread our towels on Sheep Meadow, among our fellow Manhattan sun worshippers, who were not sheep, at least not genealogically.
One time Sheep Meadow was closed off, so we went to a nearby field to lay out. It was a smaller area, with only a handful of folks taking in the rays. Shortly after we covered ourselves in suntan oil, Kathy and I independently simultaneously peripherally noticed some motion nearby. A gender-discordant couple was enjoying each other’s company. Not in the same way Kathy and I were enjoying each other’s company. Their way was under a thin ratty blanket and involved thrusting. Looking around we saw that our fellow tanners saw what was happening and looked around at all the tanners to confirm their eyes were not deceiving them. It being New York City, nobody bothered them. Not the people there to tan, not the parents walking with their children along the path a few feet from the fornicators, not the NYPD. Live and let live. That’s how we did it in New York.
They finished their activity and cleaned themselves up with the paper towels they had the foresight to bring with them. These were not amateurs. They were prepared. He probably was a boy scout many many years earlier.
That was all well and good. However, a half hour later they started at it again. One time, no problem, but a second time? Now that’s rude! Nobody likes a show-off.
“I’m near the meadow watching you boink her, oh ooh oh.” I didn’t write a song with that lyric that day, but let’s pretend I did, if only to make this segue less awkward.
In 2010, Swedish singer Robyn released “Dancing on My Own,” which included the lyric “I’m in the corner watching you kiss her, oh ooh oh.” Her song was not about coitus in a Manhattan park. In the song she is stalking her ex, something I don’t recommend doing unless it’s on-line.
Today Robyn turns 36 years old. As Friday is dance day at Tunes du Jour, we’ll pepper our playlist with some of Robyn’s best, starting with “Dancing on My Own.” Everybody get down (though if you’re in a public park, get down only once per 24-hour period)!
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I Love Kanye West Almost As Much As He Loves Himself
I recently attended a conference where I was asked to fill in a questionnaire. Amongst the questions about my favorite television program and favorite beverage, I was asked to name a person who inspires me. My answer was chocolate malt. For favorite beverage, that is. All in the Family is my favorite TV show. My inspiration? Kanye West a/k/a Yeezy a/k/a Ye a/k/a Yeezus.
I have much admiration for Mr. West. People mock his ego, but I think the world would be a better place if more people believed in themselves the way Kanye does himself.
I admire that he pursues his dreams, including those outside his music. He may not be the best fashion designer, but he goes after it instead of staying in a rapper/producer box.
I admire that he pursued the woman he believes to be the world’s most beautiful and married her.
I admire him because he says what he thinks and what he believes. I find his honesty and candor refreshing.
And then there’s the music. His body of work holds its own against any artist working today. He continually challenges himself musically. After issuing three fine albums of his rapping, he surprised us with an album of singing, and while he’s no Marvin Gaye, that album turned out to be damn good. I like that he’s equally comfortable and innovative using classic soul samples and using obscure rock samples.
Lyrically he explores love, racism, art, sex, religion, drugs, self-destruction, and redemption. He can be thought-provoking; he can be funny.
He aims high and more often than not delivers.
He has a vision and is not afraid to execute on it. He won’t settle for just okay in his pursuit of perfection.
I’ll let the man himself sum up what I admire most about him: “If everything I did failed — which it doesn’t, it actually succeeds — just the fact that I’m willing to fail is an inspiration. People are so scared to lose that they don’t even try. Like, one thing people can’t say is that I’m not trying, and not I’m not trying my hardest, and I’m not trying to do the best way I know how.” (May, 2012)
Music is better with artists who consistently aim high and try to expand their boundaries. Such creative types are what keeps me passionate about new music year after year. The way Kathie Lee needed Regis is the way I need Yeezus.
Today is Kanye West’s 38th birthday. In a career full of high points, here are twenty of my favorites.
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A Hint Of Mint – Volume 6: Pride
This week’s installment of A Hint of Mint is a collection of songs about pride, most of which you can dance to. Some you know, some you likely don’t know yet. Artists include Pet Shop Boys, Divine and Pansy Division.
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It’s Richard Butler’s Birthday And I Need To Dance!
About the Psychedelic Furs song “Love My Way,” Richard Butler, the band’s lead singer, said “It’s basically addressed to people who are fucked up about their sexuality, and says ‘Don’t worry about it.’ It was originally written for gay people.”
I could be upset that he says I’m fucked up about my sexuality, but I choose to focus on the positive. He wrote a song about me. Thanks, Richard, and happy birthday!
Friday is dance day at Tunes du Jour, so let’s get this party started!
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A Hint Of Mint – Volume 5: Broadway
On this installment of A Hint Of Mint we get ready for next week’s Tony Awards with minty show tunes and minty covers of show tunes from classic Broadway musicals. Artists include Erasure, k.d. lang and Magnetic Fields, plus original Broadway cast recordings from Hedwig & the Angry Inch, The Book of Mormon, La Cage Aux Folles, Avenue Q, and Spamalot.
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It’s Rebbie And LaToya Jackson’s Birthday And I Need To Dance!
If you’re like me, you woke up at 2:17 AM last night, wondering if any animals besides humans can dance, and then you had trouble falling back asleep. If this sounds like you, I suggest you seek therapy. If you’re in L.A., please pass on to me the name of your doctor.
I Googled “Can animals dance?”. I read about a sea lion who loves to shake it to Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Boogie Wonderland.” That doesn’t prove anything. Only a corpse wouldn’t move to that song.
A neuroscientist at the Neurosciences Institute in La Jolla, California discovered that parrots and elephants can dance, but other animals cannot. He defines dance as a natural untrained reaction to music involving moving to the beat. By that definition, most humans can’t dance, either. I know. I’ve been to straight weddings.
The Week reported that scientists found that bees, cockatoos, peacock spiders, dung beetles, manikin birds and freshwater algae can dance. First off, I didn’t know algae was an animal. Secondly, doesn’t algae merely move along with the ebb and flow of the tide? By that definition, everyone’s a good dancer, even attendees at straight weddings.
Looking at dancing animals on YouTube was a depressing experience. I’m sure that sea lion at Sea World doing the “Thriller” moves would rather be in his native habitat than forced to do Michael Jackson impersonations for crowds that pay way too much money, none of which the sea lion sees. The moves probably didn’t come naturally to him. Had he been asked, I’m sure he would’ve said “No, I’m not going to be your monkey.”
Speaking of monkeys, the Daily Mail reported that bonobos like to dance to very fast music. The article was accompanied by several photos of polar bears striking Saturday Night Fever poses. Polar bears are classified as an endangered species, so I can see their concern with stayin’ alive stayin’ alive. Still, I wouldn’t confuse them for bonobos. I know a bear when I see one. I’ve been to gay weddings.
I saw a video of a cockatoo dancing to Backstreet Boys. There’s no accounting for taste, but I must admit, the moves were good. Not Michael Jackson good, but if that is the standard, then no animals can dance. By that measurement, most humans can’t dance. Most Jacksons can’t dance.
Today is the birthday of Michael Jackson’s older sisters, Rebbie and LaToya, not particularly good dancers from any video evidence I’ve seen. Rebbie had a hit song called “Centipede.” I’ve read nothing in my research about whether or not centipedes can dance, but I doubt they can, given they have fifty left feet.
Friday is dance day at Tunes du Jour. All animals are welcome to participate, whether human or centipede (though please don’t bring up The Human Centipede.)
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Proud Mary
One of our summer camp activities was Group Sing, an American Idol-like competition in which teams made up of each age group performed song parodies about how wonderful they are, written by their counselors. Amy and Maury Stein were the camp’s owners and our Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson, watching and listening to each song and deciding which was the winning team. (Is that how American Idol works? I‘ve never seen it.)
My group’s counselors wrote a song based on “Proud Mary.” They asked me to play the part of Tina Turner. In the spoken word intro of the Ike & Tina Turner version of the song, she says “We never evah do nothin’ nice and easy. We always do it nice and rough.” I said that describing the Inter-C’s, our group. When the song kicked into high gear I shimmied and whipped my hair with abandon. It’s like my counselors saw something in eight-year-old me that I wouldn’t realize until years later. Proud Mary indeed!
Today the writer of “Proud Mary,” John Fogerty, celebrates his 70th birthday. Here are twenty of his best:
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