Charles M. Blow Has No More F*cks To Give

So he’s laying it right out there, since too many missed it the first four thousand times.

Bill Clinton had a number of cowardly moments, but one that really stuck in my craw was the whole “didn’t inhale” garbage. The first POTUS to admit he was going to let the powerless rot in jail for ages because of a harmless “crime” he had committed himself. That’s a new level of hypocrisy and indifference to the weak.

Not as evil as the original establishment of the “War on Drugs” of course, which I brought up in my second point back here.

I fell short when I forgot that there was a confessed tyrannical agenda behind these irrational “wars.” And I see how it worked. Operating in total ignorance, my parents thought maryjuana was Satan incarnated in a plant.

(Still) R.I.P.: The Pelvis

(Still) R.I.P. The Pelvis

Some people call it the album for only the most devoted Presley fans.

I won’t go that far (these good-is-bad-is-outside-in propositions give me sorassisis), but I will agree with Marcus that it is “perversely listenable.”

And you’ll pry my copy (the only one I ever saw and way more than I could sanely afford at the time) from my cold, dead, peanut-butter stained hands.

The Fundamental of Racism

This Michael Eric Dyson essay is essential reading. I remember coming across the LBJ quote when it was recent and thinking “So THAT explains it.” Why in the hell was I not hearing that in my classroom rather than “Mumble, mumble, slavery was wrong and evil but it was a long time ago and if we aren’t having race riots in town here you don’t have to worry about it.” Unfortunate traces of that “lesson” explains why I was so shocked at the blatant bigotry I encountered in Boston: the metropolitans were supposed to be more sophisticated, not more bestial.

Not Funes, But Not Fumes, Either

I read The Mind of a Mnemonist when it was new  — must have run across it in a Bozeman bookstore — and, though I had not read Borges yet, it was indeed like one of his fables was declared true. I was too inexperienced to realize the book was a bit slippery and evasive to be trusted as straight science or even faithful reporting — in retrospect, very similar to the shadow play of Carlos Castaneda. Two points continue unchanged: you really, really wanted the story to be true because S. was a sort of magic man; it was gratifying to see the book become such a hit — was as captivating as I thought it was.

 

Retail Anecdotes, Pt. 2

(Trying for Friday amusement, here.)

A slight down of my post-dentist visit to the music store was that a lunatic showed up and started hassling some French tourists. They handled it like champs and he disappeared. Did remind me …

When I managed a music store in Missoula (before Boston), the kooks were not extremely kooky and it took only one “get out and don’t come back here” to shoo them away.

But in Boston, working the record stores as the Designated Big Guy I had to get troublesome customers out the front door and their Big City Intensity clued me that sooner or later something terrible was likely to happen. A motive to get outta that and into journalism.

I should, though, mention my all-time favorite shoplifter. It was still vinyl in those days and you can’t have everything crowded in the back of the store, though the box sets were always behind the counter. Anyway this speedy ace comes in, grabs a fat armload of LPs and is out the door, with me right behind him.

I’m sure he could outrun me under regular circumstances, but he was bogged down with all those records. After half a block, I was catching up. So he began shedding LPs, dropping one on the sidewalk every couple steps. After he’d gotten rid of more than half his stash, I realized I’d lose more merchandise by continuing to chase him rather than go back and collect the discs dumped on the sidewalk. So it worked out for both of us, man. You got away with some goodies. I got credit for at least mostly foiling a robbery.

Expert Witness Comment for the Week

Suppose I’ll have to grab this “Bob’s Burgers” thing, as much of a longshot as it seemed. After all, it was 20 years ago this year I had similar surrender to “the Simpsons” on CD.

And I do have to note that it was “The New Adventures of Mighty Mouse,” two years before the Simpsons, that finally picked up that a main thing missing from latter-day cartoons was zippy, unforgettable music themes.

(Incidentally, I’m with Bob on the value of the cartoon itself — really has its moments, approve of overall intentions, but can’t remember a time I actively sought it out.)

Grace for Lady Grace

Retail is tough. Everyone can do their best and still come up short. Several businesses are leaving our closest retail center. Don’t feel the same about all of them (the less said about Panera Bread the better), but there’s a tinge of sadness about Pier 1 and, especially, Lady Grace.

The store display windows were discreet enough you wouldn’t suspect their emphasis on lingerie, but they featured what I consider my Mother’s biggest breakthrough idea: there was a shortage of fashionable clothes for older women. You shouldn’t have to choose between inappropriate youngster-imitation and frumpy. I thought Lady Grace did an especially good job with such outfits and sensed it was a place where Mother would have been glad to work.

But the same tides of taste affected both Pier 1 and Lady Grace. The accessories, decorations, furniture and doo-dads in Pier 1 were ahead of their time in quality and affordability when I first encountered the store. But it’s now an outdated form of funky-but-fun. And likewise, the past couple-three years, Lady Grace has looked more out-of-step than before. Happens often. But like I say, it’s tough.