My husband now has his own lease that he has been working on, but hasn't come home covered...yet. Recently, he has been working on his brothers in exchange for work done on ours. Well, let me tell you, he came home a HUGE, stinky, sludgy mess! His clothes were soaked in that lovely crude oil we all so love to use in sooo many different ways. And now, the bottom of my washing machine will NOT come clean from this nasty stuff. I tried running it through it's clean cycle and tried scrubbing it with dawn dish soap, so far nada...still there. I don't want to wash any clothes and get this crap on them.

So, if anyone out there reads my post, please, any ides on how to get this crap out would be GREATLY appreciated!

On June 6, 2008 the Soul Patrol invaded Broadway.  Taylor Hicks came to the Big Apple to take over the role of Teen Angel in the latest revival of Grease at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre. 

Let me start by saying that I am a born and bred New Yorker.  I was raised in Brooklyn only a few subway stops away from one of the biggest City's in the world.  My earliest recollections of sneaking a train ride into Manhattan, with my friend Cheryl, was probably when I was no older than 13.  The fare was only 35 cents, so on a cold winter's day when we did not feel like staying indoors or it was too cold to stay outside, we would take the bus to the LL Canarsie Line and get our transfer to the train.  If we were really adventurous that day, and if we had a few combined dollars between the two of us, we would actually get off at the first stop in the City, which was 14th Street, only a short distance away from the East Village.

I guess the point that I am trying to make here is that I cut my teeth on secret train trips and romps through Greenwich Village.  The natural progression for those of us raised in Brooklyn was to grow up and get a job in "The City".  Once I was working and making money, my friends and I would often go to the half price ticket booth where we could get same day Broadway tickets for any show that did not happen to be sold out.  I saw many many great Broadway shows with some of the best known Broadway Legends of their time. 

Broadway and the theatre meant a lot to me.  Back in the 70's New York may have been run down and 42nd may have been filled with XXX Video Stores but Broadway remained untouched and still filled with the magic of the early part of the 20th Century.  As the 70's progressed into the 80's a change began.  NYC was cleaned up and made safer and for the most part better.  Tourism grew which in turn helped NY get out of the financial slump that it had been in.

But something happened.  In those twenty some odd years of financial growth, NY changed.  The Times Square area became a mecca for any tourist that set foot on Manhattan Island.  Disney and MTV and the Mega Corporations took over the area, bringing along with it a new era in Broadway.  Broadway shows were now being made out of Disney movies and revivals of older shows dotted the Broadway scene.  This is not to say that any of this is bad,  it was just different.  Broadway like so many other things in our lives became Corporate along with Malls and chain stores.

Fast forward to the 21st Century.  All those in between years for me had been spent raising kids and working.  We had of course seen the obligatory shows that all kids needed to see, such as the Lion King and Beauty and the Beast, etc.  I enjoyed them with my children, but as they grew I had the sense that I wanted to show them the Broadway that I had grown up on.  It had become harder and harder to find the rare show that still had the magic of old Broadway.

Then in 2006 I became a Taylor Hicks fan.  How great it was for me at this point in my life.  My children were grown and I had the time and the disposable income to indulge myself in all things Taylor Hicks.  I spent the better part of the next two years doing so.  Then on June 6, 2008 the Soul Patrol invaded Broadway.  Taylor Hicks came to the Big Apple to take over the role of Teen Angel in the latest revival of Grease at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre, and I felt totally lost and remorseful.

I tried to put my finger on what the problem was. Was it the fact that the cast of this production of Grease was picked from a reality show?  Everyone around me was ecstatic and making plans to come here and see the show. I had never turned down an opportunity to get together with my friends to see Taylor.  I even had guests at my home whom I carted in and out of the city with all the fringe benefits without seeing the show.  Everywhere I turned I was reading post after post of the great experiences that everyone had.  I watched all the videos and watched as Taylor made the role his day by day. To be honest with myself I have to say that I never truly loved him in the part. My image of Taylor is not him in a Teen Angel Costume singing on Broadway.  I worried for his image and the fact that he may continue to be labeled as a reality show star.  I came to understand that this was a great business move for his career and I was thrilled at the positive press that he was receiving.  However I could not bring myself to want to see him.

I guess what I am trying to explain here is that for me, even Taylor being on Broadway, does not transcend the sadness that I have deep down inside about what is happening to my City.  I saw Grease as part of the problem as a watering down of the Broadway that I had known and loved.   I see NY changing everytime I am there.  The small little neighborhoods with their little individual businesses are getting smaller and scarcer by the day.  It may seem that I am being silly and many of my friends have tried to convince me of that.  It seems that I am standing on ceremonies or standing on my laurels.  I wish it were that easy for me to understand.

My hopes for Taylor and his career are the same as every other person who is part of his fandom.  We all want the best for him and we all want to support him.  There has been much discussion about being a fan of his.  Is it OK to only take the parts of Taylor that you want and leave some of it behind?  Or do we have to follow blindly no matter what path he chooses.  I think that the point that I am trying to make here is that we all have our own little personal reasons for following Taylor and we all make our own paths along the way. My path this time around has been challenged because of my history as a New Yorker.  Some one elses path may be altered by some personal experience that they have had in their lives.  We are all here for the same reason but we need to understand that the roads we travel may differ.

So thanks to our friends at Studio Fred, enjoy Big News Episode 279, featuring our special guest Erik Charles Nielsen!

And you can now subscribe to the Big News Podcast! We offer a few different options: iTunes, Miro, normal feed, and Revver. Go here to subscribe!

[vodpod id=ExternalVideo.654184&w=425&h=350&fv=allowFullScreen%3Dtrue]

In this installment:

- Barack proposes the perfect solution for the Hillary Clinton dilemma!
- The governor of West Virginia proves the state is about more than just inbreeding!
- A group of co-workers congratulate a colleague on a presidential milestone!
- John McCain tells Chris Matthews his "canny" vice presidential selection!
- Rachael Ray comes under fire!
- So does Universal Studios!
- Ed McMahon is foreclosed, sir!
- Kevin Federline becomes Father of the Year!
- A Michigan judge presides over an unusual wedding ceremony!
- Danny and Sandy remember the good times with their Hummers!
- And Governor Schwarzenegger shows how to cure the California drought - with a little help from another '80's action star!

BIG NEWS EPISODE 279 - "Hillary Under Water"

Starring Sean Cowhig, Susan Deming, Bailee Desrocher, Neil Garguilo, Jimmy Guidish, Jason Kelley, Gregg Lopez, Jim Nieb, Tammie Smalls, Ray Stakenas, and Phillip Wilburn

1. WATER? by Keith Bush, Julia Gaudette, Michael Hughes, Nikitas Manikatos, Matt Manser, Kito Buni Robinson, Catalina Rodas, Laurenne Sala, and Phillip Wilburn
Dianne Feinstein (Bailee), Barack Obama (Jason), Michelle Obama (Tammie), Hillary Clinton (Susan), Bill Clinton (Phillip)

2. WEST VIRGINIA: IT’S MORE THAN JUST INBREEDING by Tom Repetto
Dick (Gregg), Joe (Jimmy), Bob (Ray), Billy Joe (Sean), Mary Lynn (Bailee), Robert Byrd (Jim)

3. CONGRATULATIONS! by Michael Hughes
Lisa (Tammie), Debbie (Susan), Bill (Neil), Kevin (Ray)

4. MCCAIN’S HISTORIC RUNNING MATE by Adam Fisher & Danny Ricker
McCain (Phillip), Chris (Gregg)

5. THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS by Steven Waldinger
Rachael (Bailee), Agent #1 (Jim), Agent #2 (Jason)

6. UNIVERSAL STUDIOS TOUR by Erich Eilenberger
Kimmy (Tammie), Jerry (Ray), Billy (Neil), Father (Sean), Alan (Jimmy), Jeannine (Susan)

7. YOU ARE FORECLOSED, SIR! by Matt Mondlock
Bill (Jason), Ed (Phillip), Edna (Susan)

8. FATHER OF THE YEAR by Scott Garner
Announcer (Jim), K-Fed (Sean), Pookie (Neil), Jamie Lynn (Bailee), Casey (Jimmy)

9. MISS MICHIGAN by Howie Scheer
Bailiff (Gregg), Judge Fowler (Jim), Bill Tucker (Ray)

10. HUMMER LOVIN’ by Kristina Adelmeyer
Danny (Phillip), Sandy (Susan), Kenicke (Gregg), Doody (Neil), Sonny (Jason), Putzie (Jimmy), Tom (Sean), Rizzo (Tammie), Frenchy (Bailee)

11. SPECIAL GUEST: Erik Charles Nielsen
Intro (Sean)

12. BIG NEWS REPORT by Burkhart, Dorsey, Eilenberger, Glassberg, Houston, Hughes, Judy, King, Manser, McClain, Mondlock, Morelli, Nordvall, Paulas, Reber, Repetto, Scheer, Simm, Stakenas, ten Bosch, Weitz, West, and Wilburn
Susan/Jimmy/Tammie/Phillip and Jason et al.

The actress in the top left of this picture is Jamie Donnelly, famous for her role of Jan in the hit film Grease. It wasn't a major role, but she did sing the "Brusha, Brusha, Brusha" song. If you haven't seen Grease, you probably think I am insane right about now.

This is a more recent picture of Jamie. She didn't do much after Grease, and is now an acting coach in La Canada, California. She is married with two children (sorry Shasaw, I know you had your eye on her).

I said I would give you a 2-for-1, and I am a man of my word:

This is actress Didi Conn, who played the role of Frenchy in Grease. She was the one who dropped out of beauty school and then had the guardian angel sing to her. Once again, if you haven't seen this movie- INSANE.

This is a more recent picture of Didi. After Grease she really didn't do much. She was on a few TV shows, was a panelist on Match Game, and was also in Grease 2 (which sucked). She is married to composer David Shire (sorry again Shasaw), and has a brother that's an opera singer.

Dear Mister Helpful,

I love to eat at McDonald's because it is cool and the food is really really good. But every time I eat there I feel sick about 45 minutes later. What should I do?

Signed, Nauseous in Nashua

Answer:

Dear Nauseous,

Try eating 45 minutes earlier.

I'm lovin' it,

Mr. H.

This presents two big questions: Is this an over extension of the city board, a direct social engineering project? And will this even achieve anything?

It is a scary thought that city governments as of late have been using the heavy hand of legislature to force people out of unhealthy habits ( see Chicago's ban of foie gras and San Francisco's banning of trans-fats). While they are asserting that this is a matter of public health, the only people threatened by obesity are the people living unhealthily themselves- you can't catch a case of the excess weight from others.More than a matter of public health, this exemplifies the concept of invasive government as it goes against the markets and people's taste in the name of the greater good, an idea contrary to American values no matter how well-intentioned.

And that doesn't take into account the fact that it is unlikely to do anything. This decision doesn't effect the fast-food restaurants already established in the area, nor does it compel 'healthier' restaurants to set up shop. It also blatantly ignores the reasons fast food is predominant, especially in lower-income neighborhoods- its inexpensive, palatable, filling and accessible.

If the powers-that-be in Los Angeles really wanted to improve the health of its poorer citizens, it would focus on a more positive campaign rather than one based on the negative( namely, no new fast-food restaurants). Initiatives to make it easier for supermarkets and farmer's markets to be established in the area now cordoned off by the moratorium should be created, in order to give access to healthy and tasty food otherwise inaccessible to many inner-city inhabitants. Programs to encourage exercise, play and sports should also be pushed, along with safety initiatives to allow people to feel comfortable outside of their homes.

While this may be all occurring in California, the issues underlying it are nationwide- and quite present in our own state. Obesity is a major health issue that should be tackled by the government,as it is in its interest to keep its populace healthy.As someone who has actually set out to read this, I ask that you consider what could be done to improve health in our own cities and state and take the effort to push for it, through activism and/or contacting local politicians. Obesity is a societal probelm on an individual level and so all of us, fat or thin, should assist against it.

To counter the arrival of the kids that would have been born around 1990 (ack!), I thought I'd celebrate the good ol' days with the rest of you. Let us commence "Back in My Day, the 2008 Edition."

I had a record player as a kid. It was in this suitcase kind of thing. The top was red and white and the bottom was just red. The turntable part was white, so was the arm. It played 33, 45, and 72, too, I think. I read books that came with records. My favorite was one about the Flintstones. The record would chime when it was time to turn the page. I'm going to have to get that from Mom and Dad's house, too, along with Grease as a vinyl.

I played with an Atari 2600. We didn't have many games. We had the standard Combat game with the little tanks. I always thought it was funny when a tank spun out after it was hit a certain way. We also had an Activision game called Freeway where you had to get this yellow chicken across a highway. If you didn't, the chicken icon would change for a moment and look like it was squished. Then it was sent back down a lane or two down the highway. Again, I must investigate the Atari's existence at the parental unit's abode.

Remember those short, short socks with the pom-pom at the heel? I had those, too. Pink and navy blue. Those were ridiculous. Why have a pom-pom back there? It looks like everything old is new again. Check it out. Nike is bringing them back. I know I said they were ridiculous, but I might have to buy some anyway. I will look stylin' on the golf course with these babies.

Paper! Remember the days when we actually wrote letters to one another, using paper... and a pen... and an envelope... and a stamp? When I was in school, I remember keeping in touch with my friends from high school with letters. In fact, I still have the letters somewhere in a box. At the time, few people had email, so letter-writing was the thing to do. I even had a notebook that had my "drafts" of the letters I would write. I think I did this so that I could remember whatever conversation my friends and I were having. I was sooo ahead of my time. This is like the SENT folder for your inbox now.

Oooh. I also had a pen pal. Her name was Ruthy and she lived in France. She had the coolest hand writing. The next time I'm at my parents' house, I'm going to have to collect her letters.

The Beginning

I have a confession to make. I am an addict and Taylor Hicks is my drug. You see, for me, he’s the human equivalent of crack. And once I got that first taste back in January of 2006, I became hooked for life. I’ll admit I never tried to fight it. I sat back and allowed his voice and his music to be injected directly into my blood stream, invading body, heart, and soul. I gave no thought to the consequences, because how could anything that felt so good possibly be bad for me?

It seemed I had an unlimited supply. Videos, pictures, audio downloads. In the beginning, any time I started to get the shakes and needed a fix, I never had to go farther than my computer or my CD player. I thought my addiction was complete then, but I had no idea what it was like to experience Taylor Hicks live and in the flesh. The after-party in September, 2006 at The Woodlands in Wilkes-Barre, PA changed all that. I realized that what I’d been getting up till then was the water-downed version of my drug of choice. The pure stuff I discovered that night was nothing short of total euphoria. And once experienced, nothing else could ever compare.

Then came the tour of 2007. I was a happy little addict, and from February to October, I never went more than a month without a solid fix. And then, BOOM!, after Millersville it was cold turkey. Cut off completely from the live experience. The pain of withdrawal was as sharp and as real as knife blade across my soul. I went back to getting whatever satisfaction I could from the audio and video tidbits gathered on my computer and the first-hand accounts of those lucky enough to see Taylor at his occasional one-off appearances. I placed my hopes on the next album, the next tour, the next chance to feel that incredible rush of pleasure pulsing through my veins.

And then came the announcement of the Grease gig. I have to be honest: my stomach dropped and my heart clenched at the news. I couldn’t understand why Taylor had chosen this path. Where was the serious musician I’d come to love and depend upon? Here was an opportunity to see him live again but under circumstances I could never see myself taking advantage of. How could I possibly rationalize a trip to New York for a measly eight minutes of Taylor sharing a stage with folks I didn’t know or care about?

Funny how an addiction can make you do things you never thought you’d do. And of course, as seems to be the way with all things Taylor, karma came into play by offering up a series of occurrences that couldn’t be ignored. Everything seemed to be pointing the way towards taking that trip I never thought I’d make. Over the course of a few days I went from “No way, no how,” to “This is something I’m supposed to do.” And so I found myself on an airplane jetting my way to the East Coast with Peece, my best friend and partner in crime by my side.

Once we landed, we made our way to Elphaba's house. She's also a friend and fellow member of the SOS. We were soon joined by two other members, one of whom had flown in all the way from England to see Taylor in Grease. I was once again reminded that my addiction was not only to the man, but also to the familiar and comforting bonds of friendships that’ve been formed because of him. Reconnecting with people whom I’d felt I’d known for a lifetime was balm to my soul. We hugged, we laughed, we shared food and wine and memories. And I fell asleep that first night knowing that I had once again come to the right place.

The Performance

I thought about covering the trip into the city and all the little details of what happened before the performance, but I think the friends I was with have already done a fine job of that in their recaps on the board. Not adding my own thoughts in no way diminishes the specialness of them, but I have a feeling most of you reading this are primarily interested in Taylor’s turn as Teen Angel and the backstage visit afterwards. So let’s jump straight to that.

 I’ve read others’ recaps of his performance, have listened to the mp3s, seen the pictures and watched the videos that are available. But nothing, I mean nothing, compares to seeing him live.

The energy level in the theater increases a hundred-fold when the giant ice cream cone appears. Staring up at the stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. And I couldn’t help wondering exactly what Taylor was doing up there, incased in what amounts to a casket of wood and fabric and foam. Does he twiddle his thumbs, check his mic, straighten his glittery blue suit? How does our fidgety soul man pass those few minutes of time? Inquiring minds want to know.

And then the opening notes of Beauty School Dropout began and I found myself grabbing for and clutching Peece’s hand. Not so much in anticipation of the song to come, but because finally, after so many months, I was going to see Taylor standing on a stage in front of me again.

And there he was! Larger than life. Shiny. Striking pose after pose, that elastic face of his grinning and primping and smirking and sneering. He can say more with one look than most can say with a script-full of lines. He flirted and teased, stalked the stage like an uncaged animal, reaching out and capturing the audience in the palm of his hand with absolutely no effort.

And his voice, that voice. Impeccable. Polished. Gravely and soaring. Sandpaper on silk. Absolute perfection.

And then he was gone again, only to reappear for the curtain call. The strongest impression I have of those few minutes is of a man surrounded by kids. Not that any of the cast is any less talented than Taylor – especially when it comes to the hand jive. It’s simply that he physically and spiritually towers above everyone else. It’s been said of him that he walks in the light and I can only assume that the good karma he surrounds himself with and that lives within him gives him that edge that is so rare in this day and age of manufactured talent and celebrity. True talent and absolute love of music and performing emanates from him like a beacon of light. Most of the lingering doubts I had about him taking this gig were swept away by his performance. And the remainder were completely put to rest after the conversation we had with Taylor backstage. And this is how it happened …

The Meet & Greet - Part One   

[Note: This recap contains not only an accounting of the actual events, but my own opinions and conclusions based on some of those events. It is possible I’ve projected? Of course it is. But we all filter events though the lenses of our unique life experiences. The facts of the M&G are just that: facts. The rest is open to interpretation. Feel free to form your own.] 

Peece and I made our way out of the theater and to the stage door where we met Zeff, Taylor’s security man. He led us backstage and instructed us to wait for Taylor there. Though Peece had 3 clown noses in her purse, we’d already decided at some point during the day that we weren’t going to ask Taylor to don the clown nose as we'd done in Waukegan last year. Once was cute, twice might be a bit over the top. I had a bag full of goodies at my feet and was just beginning to take a look around when I saw Taylor walking towards us from the same direction we’d come in. He’d obviously taken the world’s fastest shower and was wearing what’s become his stage door uniform: black v-neck shirt, cargo shorts and NB kicks. His hair was heavily gelled and his bangs (grown out much longer since I’d seen him last) were sticking out in twenty different delightfully dorky directions.

He looks great, folks. Tall and tanned and just the right weight – not too heavy, not too slim. As he approached us and held out his hand, I was struck anew by how different he appears off stage. When he’s performing, he’s larger than life. Once he’s in street clothes and off the clock, he’s just a quiet, friendly, good-looking guy who happens to be enormously talented.

We shook hands and introduced ourselves just as two women who’d also purchased the M&G package walked backstage. Taylor walked away to grab a sharpie from Zeff. When he came back he headed in the direction of the two other women, giving Peece and me a chance to eavesdrop on their M&G. They were from Minnesota, which was obvious from their accents and which Taylor commented on. One of the women had brought two pictures she’d had blown into posters for him to sign. She asked him about the upcoming tour as he was signing, wondering where’d he be playing. Taylor told her he’d be doing almost exactly the same tour as last year’s, in so far as location and size of venue. So it seems he was happy with the smaller theaters and clubs and plans on hitting most of them again.

As this was going on, I asked Peece to pull up our Waukegan M&G picture on her iTouch. I figured seeing it might jog his memory, as he didn’t seem to recognize us when he first shook our hands – and I didn’t really expect him to. He took a few pictures with the Minnesota girls and Zeff ushered them out. I can only conclude that it was their first real encounter with Taylor, as they seemed nervous and they rushed through the whole thing. I, on the other hand, was going to get my money’s worth.

Taylor walked over to us and he and Peece had this exchange as he took the iTouch she handed him.

Peece: “Taylor, do you remember this?”
Taylor: “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do.”

Then he grinned at us and asked, ”Are we gonna do it again?”

Judging strictly by his tone of voice, it didn’t appear to be something he was dreading. In fact, he seemed excited by the idea. Peece told him that we didn’t want to be a pain in the butt, but she just happened to have clown noses in her purse.

Taylor: “We gotta do it then. We have to make it a tradition!”

Once that was decided on, the bag of goodies became the topic of discussion. We told him we had some things for him and asked if we could show him what we’d brought. Taylor was up for that, deciding we’d do the pictures afterwards.

I dug through the bag and pulled out the Buddy Guy t-shirt and hat (which he really seemed to like) and showed him the photo one of our members had taken of him that night, telling him it was to remind him that, yes, he really was there. We talked a bit about Buddy’s and he said he’d love to play there again, that it was a great night.

Then I pulled out the framed drawing Katja had posted on our board the day before, with Taylor in his sparkly suit. I explained that it was her latest work and it was for his dressing room collection. He was wowed by it, absolutely loved it! Told us again that she was really cool and a really great artist. Like we didn’t already know that.

Next I pulled out the gift I’d brought him. It was something I’d wanted to give him for the longest time, but the actual preparation of the gift and the opportunity to give it to him had never seemed right before this trip. Way back, way back, when it was in danger of being lost in the Boogie Board archives, I saved all 24 pages of the AI Re-examination discussion in HTML form, complete with avis, siggy lines and embedded videos of every AI performance. I spent the better part of an hour at work last week printing out all 240 pages on heavy-weight paper and then another 30 minutes at home that night with a three hole press, punching out the pages and binding them. I then copied the threads onto a CD, which Taylor can pop into his computer. The CD will allow him to actually watch the embedded videos if he wants to. I also made a cover insert for the binder, with the thread title and a picture from the audition side-by-side with a picture from the Final Two performance of DIMYP.

Anyway, I pulled it out of the bag (all 10 pounds of it) and handed it to Taylor, explaining to him what it was. I said to him that I didn’t expect him to sit down and read it anytime soon, but that if he wanted to know who his core fan base was and why they became his fans, this was a good place to start. I told him it was a piece of history and that perhaps 10 years down the road it might be something he’d get a kick out of reading. I’ll admit I was getting a bit choked up at this point. That thread and the memories contained within it are very special to me and it was cool that I was finally able to pass it on him. I think he was touched as well. He made it a point to tell me it was going to go on the tour bus with him and he’d read it there.

So then we had him sign our Playbills and I tucked everything back into the bag for Zeff to take out to Taylor’s SUV. Peece pulled out the clown noses (Peece: “Still in the bag, so they’re sanitary.’) and passed them around. We opened the packages and decided to do the more serious picture first. So Peece went on one side of Taylor and I took my spot on the other. Our arms slid around his waist as he tucked each of us under an arm and we smiled pretty for Zeff and the camera.

Peece made a comment about not needing Taylor to show her how to put on the clown nose this time as we donned them and assumed our positions. Zeff took a shot and Taylor decided he needed to check it out to make sure it was a good one. Blind as Peece and I are, we stood like good little soldiers on each side of him as he checked it. Nope, it wasn’t good enough. Taylor was looking away and he insisted on another one.

By this time, the silliness of the whole process had sunk in and I was feeling a bit goofy. The third and final shot is evidence of that.

We all checked out the third shot and called it good enough. Taylor declared (once again) that he was keeping his nose. Zeff headed outside with the bag as I pulled off my nose and looked for my purse. As I was doing so, Peece mentioned the billboard to Taylor and how incredible it was to see it in person. She also said something then about his performance. As I was bending down to shove the clown nose in my purse, I agreed that he’d done a great job. And then for some insane reason, I looked up at Taylor and this popped out of my mouth: “I gotta tell ya, when I first heard about this gig I thought you’d lost your fucking mind.”

I can’t describe the look on his face when I said that. It wasn’t shock, I don’t think, or confusion. Looking back now, I think it might have been some sort of recognition on his part. Because then I said to him, “I will never doubt you again.”

I stood up and hefted my purse onto my shoulder as Peece and Taylor talked about Italy. She invited him for dinner and I promised him authentic Italian food if he ever accepted her offer. Taylor started to lead us to towards the stage door, and we kept chatting as we walked. He took a step down into the short walkway between the side stage and the exit door and that’s when I asked him about the new CD. Near as I can remember it was, “So can you give us any hint when we’ll be seeing the new album?”

He stopped, turned back to me and started to say something. Then he stopped in mid-sentence and said, “Wait, let’s go back over here.” He led us back to the area we’d just left, stood directly in front of me, locked eyes with me and started to talk. And that’s when things got very interesting …

The Meet & Greet - Part Two    

Two things before I get into the second half of the M&G. 

1.) Anyone who’s spent any time with me knows that there’s nothing I’d love more to do than crawl around inside Taylor’s brain and try to figure out what makes that musical mind work.

2.) When Taylor Hicks is jeebed enough about something to invade your personal space, planting himself a foot away from you and focusing the intensity of those big browns directly at you, you damn well better pay attention. And don’t, under any circumstances, think about breaking that eye contact.

The first words out of his mouth were, "I didn’t have any juice, man.”

This is the best way to describe the rest of his monologue. It was shatter-shot, bouncing from one seemingly unrelated thing to another; full of “you knows” and references to juice and the lack thereof; mentioning AI and last year’s tour and his freshman big label album and what he needed to do to insure the success of his sophomore record. He rambled about deadlines and Christmas and offers and the absolute freedom of being on his own time schedule. And the entire time he kept his eyes locked on mine. It was almost as though he were trying to drill his message directly into my brain.

And all I could do was stand there and listen and look right back. The entire theater could have been crumbling around our feet. Peece could have sprouted Teen Angel wings and been circling above our heads and I wouldn’t have noticed. The only things I was aware of were the words tumbling out of his mouth and the fact that as soon as I dared break the contact, my rare and wonderful peek inside his head would end.

He finally wound down and dropped his eyes. And I think I took my first real breath since he’d started talking. I didn’t think about my response but I do remember telling him this: “You take as long as you need for the next CD. Don’t rush it. You put it out only when you’re ready. Trust me, we’ll be there waiting.”

He gave quick nod of his head, apparently satisfied by my response, and once again led us towards the stage door. I was overwhelmed. My brain was scrambling to make some kind of sense out of what had come spilling out of his mouth. The master of evasive answers had again avoided directly answering the question. But, nonetheless, he had given me an answer. To what, took me a few days to figure out.

I stopped him before we went out the door, telling him that it’d been almost a year since I’d last seen him and wondering if I could have a hug. I think I needed one last connection before I let him go. He turned and gathered me up for a quick embrace before stepping to Peece and giving her one, as well. And then he pushed through the door and into the glaring sunlight and the roar of the crowd, Peece and I following behind him. We disappeared into the mass of people and made our way over to where our friends were waiting.

We headed around the corner and through a sea of people until we finally found relative quiet under a scaffolding. I stopped in my tracks and reached for Peece, pulling her in for a hug that was equal parts joy and desperation. I was shaken to the core. Not by the experience of the M&G, but by the enormity of the entire day and the message from Taylor that I was determined to understand.

Looking back on it now, with a few days times to let it all sink in, I think I know what he was trying to tell me. I honestly believe that my off-the-cuff comment to him about losing his mind presented him with the opportunity to address my worries, as well as those of all the other fans who may have been second-guessing his decision to take the role in Grease and what it meant in regards to his status as a “serious” musician.

And it is this: the Grease gig is the means to an end. Anything this man chooses to do that does not directly involve recording or touring is means to an end. He was running dry after the end of the tour last year. The publicity had stopped. No one was interested in hearing about him or his music. No one wanted to give him a second look. He didn’t have any juice, man.

So he created some. He was offered a gig that, if his new team took full advantage of it, would fill that dry well back up. The role of Teen Angel was the equivalent of him stepping into the American Idol audition room all over again. He saw the role in Grease for what it was: an opportunity to sell himself to a public outside of the AI bubble that wants and needs real performers, people with soul. And he’s throwing himself into the role and playing the Broadway game with the same drive and determination that we all witnessed two and half years ago.

The serious musician is there, alive and well under the sparkly blue suit and the high pompadour. The music that mesmerized and entranced us all at those pre-Idol gigs and later in the theaters, music halls, charity events and BBQs isn’t going anywhere. The spirit of the music he draws from and creates hasn’t been replaced by an acting bug or a sudden desire to see what else he can do instead of continuing to make the music we love.

The songs for the next album are set. He knows exactly what’s going on the record and how he wants each song to sound. The hard part is done. Now it’s just a matter of sorting through the numerous offers he’s been made and deciding which will serve him and his music the best. Now he just needs to carve out the time to get into the studio and lay down the tracks. The music is there, folks, and so is he.

Taylor Hicks is full of juice again. And it’s going to be sweet.

Thriller

Bohemian Rhapsody

Grease

Indiana Jones

Y no pongo mas por que si no peto la página. Bueno, y esto es un pequeño hasta luego, pue sno volvere hasta la semana que viene.

Apparently, the answer to that question is an unqualified “Yes."

Early one morning of the trip, the Spoon walked out and discovered a mess from what looked to be a week’s worth of trash strewn all over the driveway, about 50 feet from where it should have been in the storage shed. (See photo above.)

And not far from the three-dimensional multimedia collage was a telltale sign that the culprit was of the ursine variety. That is, this bear left an apparent sign of his approval of the feast in the form of a nice pile of bear scat.

So in the spirit of our vacation’s theme, we give you the bear’s list of favorite human snack food.

1. Coca-Cola. This seemed to meet with the bear’s approval, judging from what looked to be teeth marks in the cans that had previously held the corn-syrup equivalent of sweet nectar. Maybe the folks in Atlanta have a new spokes-species.
2. Cantaloupe. Again, something sweet seems to be what pleases. Or at least it was worth ripping the door off a shed to get to. Of course, most of what was left in the trash had been peel, so a little roughage was seemingly in order, as well.
3. Bacon drippings. Yep. The bear likes a little porkbelly grease. Given the similarities between the omnivorous habits of humans and bears, perhaps there is a product line extension opportunity in here for the hog producers and packers: Bear Hollow Bacon Drizzle. Mmmmm.

So, I'm not a big fan of Grease. And now it looks like a wrote a comic about it.

WOOPS!

Does this mean there will soon be a trend of me writing comics about things I don't like?

Well, let's just say few may enjoy tomorrow's comic about leaving cheese cubes in a half-full mayonnaise jar near a radiator.

DOUBLE WOOPS!

For anyone who read my "Lye Soap and Freedom" article, you'll know that I've recently been making my own soap.

Well, as in all things, patience is a virtue.

This is especially true with soap making.  I, like the big dummy that I am, had to find this out the hard way.

You see, I had decided to make a batch of soap, right as a good ol mid-summer storm began blowing in.

Eventually, my power started flickering, and soon an entire circuit in my apartment went down.  I lost power to the fridge and microwave, as well as to the electric sparks that ignite my gas oven.

I had already added the lye to my water, and was determined to carry on, despite the setbacks.

I set up some lamps, and manually lighted my gas oven.

Unfortunately, I lost track of time, and let my grease cook for far too long.  It was well over 120 degrees.

My lye was at the correct temperature, but my grease was far too hot.

Normally, I would just pop the pot into the freezer for a few minutes, but I didn't know how long the power to my fridge would be out, so I crossed off that option.  My next plan was to set the pot of grease in the sink and run cold water on it until it cooled down.  The problem was, the sink was full of other dirty soap making utensils (as well as utensils from dinner that evening...)  I didn't feel like cleaning all that out (I was in a soap making frenzy) plus, running cold water over the pot would take waaaay to long!

It was then that I came up with a brilliant idea!!!

"Why don't I just pour some really cold water into the grease???"

As soon as the water hit the grease, it began hissing, and boiling...then popping, then BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My recipe calls for 2 cups of grease.  Both cups were sent flying in all directions all over my kitchen.

Luckily, I have catlike reflexes, and dove behind a wall, or I could have been seriously hurt.

Now I have one heck of a mess to clean up.

On the bright side of this whole thing...I had fun running, and diving across the kitchen floor!!

The moral here:

Be patient when making soap!!!!

Da man sich aber nicht den ganzen Tag Musik aus "Grease" anhören kann, müssen hin und wieder Alternativen her. Zum Beispiel Talking To Turtles. Das hauseigene Label des "Vereins ehemaliger Nachbarn" veröffentlicht demnächst die erste EP des Sympathischen Songwriters. Einen ersten Vorgeschmack bietet der Song "Beam Me Up, Scotty", der HIER gratis heruntergeladen werden kann. Hübsch!

The Clippers acquired the 30-year-old local product from the Utah Jazz on Wednesday in exchange for Brevin Knight in a swap of point guards.

"We are glad to have Jason back with us," general manager Elgin Baylor said in a statement. "He played an important role for us when he was here previously, and we think he will be a valuable component this time as well."

Hart, who attended high school in nearby Inglewood, rejoins the Clippers after averaging 2.9 points, 1.5 assists, 1.0 rebound and 10.6 minutes in 57 games for the Jazz last season. He played in just two of Utah's 12 playoff games.

Hart joined the Jazz as a free agent after splitting the 2006-07 season between the Sacramento Kings and the Clippers, averaging 9.0 points and 4.0 assists in 23 games for Los Angeles. He enjoyed his best NBA season with Charlotte in 2004-05, averaging 9.5 points, 5.0 assists and 1.1 rebounds in 74 games.

The 32-year-old Knight, who joined the Clippers as a free agent in August, averaged 4.6 points, 1.9 rebounds and 4.4 assists and 22.6 minutes in 74 games last season. He finished second in the NBA with a 4.62-1 assists-to-turnover ratio.

"Staying Alive" är faktiskt regiserad och delvis skriven utav Sylvester Stallone(!) och om man är riktigt uppmärksam kan man se honom några sekunder i filmen!

Jag rekomenderar varmt den här filmen. Speciellt till alla er dans/musikal -intresserade. Dessutom kan man köpa den för endast 39 kr på Discshop just nu! Helt klart värt varenda krona. Följ länken till Discshop här.

Roligt att veta: Jag läste någonstans att John Travolta var med i Broadwayuppsättningen av Grease innan filmen kom och att han där spelade en utav T-Birds-killarna. Huvudrollsinnehavaren i musikalen lyckades sen inte få huvudrollen som Danny i filmen utan den gick istället till John.

Anyway.  We used to play at being Abba in the playground.  This basically involved us fighting over who was going to be the blonde one, who we thought was gorgeous, and who was going to be the sour faced brunette, who we didn't think was gorgeous.  We would scrap all playtime, I would lose and end up being the sour faced brunette, and then the bell would go before we had donned our imaginary silver loon pants for top chart action success.  We used to play at Grease, Star Wars and The Dukes of Hazzard in much the same way.  I would always end up as: a) Rizzo, b) Chewie and C) Roscoe P. Coletrain.  I also always got picked last for netball.  Such was my lot in life as a gobby, short sighted misfit with a self inflicted Richard III haircut.  It only lasted until I was eighteen and embraced my inner weirdo.  Unfortunately most of school, which I thought of as a living hell of B movie bit parts was over by then. 

Anyway, my love affair with Abba continued unabated.  I was most into them by the time they had become wildly unfashionable and everyone else had moved on to other things.  My favourite album of theirs was called The Visitors, which when you mention it to most people just causes them to look at you in blank surprise because they've never heard of it.  I played it endlessly on my dad's giant German stereo with his groovy Cliff Richard 'Wired for Sound' type headphones clamped to my small, sweaty ears.  It really was a German stereo.  I think he'd bought it cheap from a bloke in exchange for a car or something.  All the knobs and instructions were in German and you could only get it to work by accidentally pressing the right button.  We lived in the middle of a field in the Midlands.  None of us knew how to speak German.  My gran wouldn't even talk about the Germans let alone in German.  What with that and the Fifty Steel Guitars of Tommy Garrett and 100 best Sousa Marches, which were my dad's contribution to the world of pop excellence during the seventies, you can see how hard it was.  No wonder I was picked on at school.

At university Abba was a retro cool type thing.  We used to have washing up parties to Abba in our flat.  People used to come round and fill the kitchen, prancing about with their tea towels and scouring pads to the strains of the thumping bassline of 'Does Your Mother Know?'  I used to do an excellent impression of Benny's piano playing at the kitchen table.  It was only exceeded by my very drunken impression of Mick Jagger.  The Jagger was a rare one, because I had to be so drunk to do it it was a fine line between Jagger or throwing up in the ornamental cabbage plants.  Quite often the cabbage plants got it before Jagger reared his ugly head.  On reflection this was probably a good thing.  It hurt my lips a lot and I would wake up with both a hangover and feeling like I'd been stung by a thousand angry wasps.  Not an ideal state of being.

After uni, Abba got swallowed up in all that seventies and eighties school disco revival swill and I discovered Britpop, hanging out with bands and house music.  I would occasionally go to a nightclub with a friend and Abba would come on, but they would invariably put on Dancing Queen, which is my least favourite of all Abba songs and one I would cheerfully relegate to Room 101, along with Gloria Gaynor's I will Survive and Bright Eyes by Simon and Garfunkel.  I put my Abba days behind me and put my teeny tiny raving pants on.  Then I had children and put everything behind me in favour of big pants and bigger duvets.

I rediscovered Abba with my kids.  They love it.  Tallulah has their first album on CD, I think it's called Arrival.  They put it on and have what they call a 'pants disco'.  This involves wearing pants on your head and clutching pants in each hand whilst bounding about maniacally shaking your booty.  It always has to be Abba for the disco win.  They can't get enough of it.  They have wide musical tastes.  Tallulah likes the Black Eyed Peas (my lovely lady lumps, check it out, mama!) and The White Stripes (Do you know Mama? I do love Jack White like a little brother.  I do. I really do.).  Matilda likes Phantom of the Opera and High School Musical.  Oscar likes The Rubber Dubbers.  But they are all united in their love for Abba.

They were very jealous that I was going to see the film without them.  I promised them that if it was suitable I would take them to see it on Friday when Oscar was in nursery.  I prayed a lot that it would be or I'd never hear the end of it.  Luckily it was and they are very happy indeed.  I am praying that none of them vomit before, during or after and that will make me happy.

Basically it was rubbish, but it was excellent, self referential, funny rubbish that celebrated how rubbish it was and really got on with having a brilliant time.  I'd pay again just to see Julie Walters in a silver lame jumpsuit with kick flares and platform boots.  It certainly made a change from Mrs. Overall.  Colin Firth can't sing, but was lovely because he is Colin Firth, and no matter how portly he gets (and he too wears sparkly jumpsuits if you wait for the credits at the end) he will always be Mr. Darcy to me.  Although it has to be said that Mr. Darcy would be rolling in his literary grave at the choice of outfits given his penchant for tasteful buckskin breeches.

Suspend disbelief, enjoy the singing and the fact that it is blatantly a movie where they had way more fun making it than you will ever have fun watching it, and all will be well.  The audience, as my reviews always include an audience review, were fantastic.  It was packed to the rafters, which for a seven thirty showing on a Tuesday night was unusual.  It was packed to the rafters with women of a certain age.  Andrea and I were probably the youngest ones there and I thank God that there were no co-ordinated menopausal hot flushes or the cinema would have gone up like a fiery inferno.

As it was, my neighbour was the wrong side of sixty and had a lovely blue rinse.  My nan used to have blue and pink rinses on alternate weeks and I haven't seen a blue rinse like it since she went to live with Cheezus.  It was quite alarming.  She was a very noisy neighbour, and if we had been watching the latest in experimental Danish Dogme cinema or at the theatre I would have had to stab her dead with a hat pin, but as it was she was almost as entertaining as the film.  It's clear that she doesn't get out much and she was having the time of her life.  She had totally forgotten that she was in a cinema full of strangers and was so absorbed that she still thought she was at home watching Corrie.  She kept giving excited little squeaks and clutching the arms of the seat whilst uttering the most ridiculously obvious statements: 'Oooooh! She's putting down a plate.  Maybe she's going to have dinner.' 'Aaaah! That's nice, she's got to choose which one her dad is!'  'Ooohh! I wonder if she's going to marry him?'  I didn't have the heart to tell her off she was enjoying herself so much.  To be honest I'd be hard put to say which I enjoyed more, her or the film.  Good value though when you think about it.  Two entertainments for the price of one.  Abbatastic.

There was just one song we would always fast forward, as we found it boring and didn’t understand at the time what it was about. But Rizzo’s song is actually one of the best when you listen to the lyrics. It’s about being how her brazen behavior might seem crude to some, but that she’s at least open and honest and without the phony façade so often considered proper. Here’s my version of the song so beautifully sung by the ever charming Stockard Channing:

There are worse things I could do,
Than scold an idiot or two.
Even though the neighborhood thinks I'm bitchy,
And so rude,
I suppose it could be true,
But there are worse things I could do.

I could discount all that’s wrong,
Let them think their skills are strong.
Be nice and sweet and ignore,
Higher standards I aim for,
And let competence fall through.
That's a thing I'd never do.

I could play to care about their lives,
their kids, husbands and their wives.
Make them think I am their friend,
win their confidence, then send
emails with the boss in BCC.

I could act I love them all,
be at their every beck and call.
I don’t fake and I don’t lie,
But I am smart and I can try.
to be more assertive than I am.
But to rid the part of me that’s true,
That's the worst thing I could do.