The Leslie Show

What would YOU do?

If you suddenly found yourself in the year 1000 (A.D.)?  My friend Hillel (who does a whole lot of diverse stuff) wrote a song about it.  It's really clever.  Check it out.

I (heart) FotC!

I'm back and we're still rockin'

Chris (aka Duffergeek) is home, down a kidney, and doing fine.  Details at Mutant Kidney. 

Meanwhile, I am here to posit that in a guitar duel, Peter Frampton would kick Eric Clapton's ass. 

Exhibit A (7:34 minutes long, and slow to download...but worth it)

Convinced?  Of course.  I am right.

Now, do me a favor, would ya?  Go vote for Pete at Deep Rock Drive.  Let's get him to come play a live, interactive show on the Internet.

Gender Bender

Recently a friend of mine announced that he (now she) was transgendered.  This came as a pretty big surprise, and has been a tremendously educational experience.  Fortunately for all of us, Megan Wallent has been very forthright and open about her transition, and has shared the experience on her web site.  I hope you will find what you read there interesting and educational as well.  (I hope it goes without saying that this person is a friend of mine, and regardless of your thoughts on the matter you will keep any comments on the site civil and polite.)

It's been interesting for a number of reasons, one of which it's caused me to spend a great deal of time thinking about gender.  Not sexuality, but gender (the fact that I've even had cause to separate the two is telling right there).  While I care about and respect my friend, and am quite happy that this decision has brought her closer to her true self, I have to admit there's a part of me that simply doesn't understand what it's like to want to be the opposite sex.

I was talking to a friend of mine:  "Gay I get," I said.   "You're attracted to the opposite sex.  Got it.  But to want to be the opposite sex?

I've never wanted to be a man."

I've been saying and thinking this statement for the last several months (again, without judgement or anything but love for my transgendered friend.  Just trying to wrap my mind around it.)

Then last night, I realized:  That last statement is patently incorrect. While a few of my closest friends know what I'm about to say, it's time for ME to "come out" here on The Leslie Show:

Since 1982, I have wanted to be Brian Setzer.

I'm not kidding.

Not date.  Not marry.  BE.

I'm very crush-prone.  Always have been.  The earliest celebrity crush I can remember is Shaun Cassidy.   Shortly after that came Andy Gibb and The Bee Gees.  Posters all over my walls.  16 magazine, and Tiger Beat were dietary staples, and I read the idiotic descriptions of how my dream date with these guys would go with ardent pre-teen fervor.  Oh yes, it was going to happen.  I was totally going to date Andy Gibb. And while I look at these pictures now and laugh at the soft, unthreatening faces of these young pop stars, I still maintain that in the late 1970s Barry Gibb was a hottie. (Then again, he was well into his thirties by then).

Duran Duran followed a few years later.   This time the posters BLANKETED my entire room.  My friends and I thoughtfully divided up the band so there would be no conflict.  Rachel got John, Wendy got Nick.  Simon was mine.   Oh yes, I was going to marry Simon Le Bon.   

But right around the time I was planning to marry Simon Le Bon, there was a band that I found absolutely compelling.  The Stray Cats spoke to my gut.   Brian Setzer's fingers whizzed along the guitar strings, and the music they made was animal and danceable at the same time.  I wanted to be able to do that.  I wanted to have my arms covered in tattoos and have a Gretsch guitar be my slave and do whatever I asked of it.  I wanted to stand on a drum kit and howl while a crowd screamed.  I had my hair permed (it was the '80s after all) and highlighted while showing the stylist a picture of John Taylor from Duran Duran, but when I got home, I combed it into a big pompadour, put on a big-shouldered jacket and rolled up the sleeves, grabbed my Gibson semi-acoustic guitar, and jumped around the room howling.  Poodle-skirt my ass, I wanted to be the one up on the stage making the poodle-skirts twirl.

I saw the Stray Cats in 1983 at Pine Knob with Dave Edmunds opening for them.  Very few people were there, we practically had the place to ourselves.  I remember being astonished at Lee Rocker when he would stand on his upright bass while playing it.  How cool was that?

In 1999 I won a radio contest and got tickets for two to Woodstock '99.  Oy, what a long, strange trip that was: Price gouging, heat waves, and filth, but that's a story for another time. One of the cool highlights was seeing The Brian Setzer Orchestra perform, and the field of college stoners jumping up and swing-dancing on the lawn.  HA!  Rock!   

Finally, in around 2001 or 2002, we went and saw Brian Setzer at a little tiny club in Seattle (the Showbox).  It was, of course, amazing, and I realized that I STILL wanted to be him.  So talented, so respected, so authentic.  It was just amazing. 

So, in closing, three things:

1)  I HAVE wanted to be a man.  One man.  Brian Setzer.  So never say never. 

2)  Vote for Brian on Deep Rock Drive:

3)  In case you have lived a horribly deprived life, or have simply forgotten, here's a 7.5 minute Stray Cats video to remind you:

The Beatles - "LOVE"

I was listening to The Beatles - "Love" album today.  It's really a very cool thing, with George Martin and his son Giles creating a Beatles "mash-up" for the new Cirque du Soliel show.  It's fun to listen and try to identify all the songs as they come in. 

"Within You Without You" is one of the songs.  Perhaps it's because I recently attended a yoga seminar where I took a lot of yoga philosophy classes, or perhaps it's because I was getting a massage at the time I heard it, but the lyrics really resonated with me:

We were talking
about the space between us all
and people who hide themselves
behind a wall of illusion
never glimpse the truth
then it's far too late
when they pass away

We were talking
about the love we all could share
When we find it
to try our best to hold it there
with our love, with our love
we could save the world
if they only knew

Try to realize it's all within yourself
no one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small
and life flows on within you and without you

We were talking
about the love that's gone so cold
and the people who gain the world
and lose their soul
They don't know, they can't see
Are you one of them

When you've seen beyond yourself
then you may find
peace of mind is waiting there
And the time will come
when you see we're all one
and life flows on within you and without you

The New Who Review

Chris and I went to see The Who last night in concert.  Back in olden times (read, the 1980's, also known as "Before Kids") we used to go to concerts all the time.  But with kids, mortgages, jobs and a real life, one doesn't have as much time to go hop around in concert venues.  Here are some other reasons I stopped going to so many concerts:

The venues. -  Arenas suck.  I think it was around 1994, when Billy Joel and Elton John did their first tour together.  We got tickets to the show in Foxboro Stadium when we lived in Massachusetts.  I had to put together a babysitter, then we had an hour-long drive (that turned into 2.5 hours because we got stuck in traffic that made us late), then we got to find our seats which were midfield.  The artists looked like dots back there.  Then I got beer spilled on me, and could hear the drunken girls behind us singing in my ear just as loud as the guys on stage.  "I'm too old for this," I thought.  "I'm sticking to small venues."

The fans.  -  (See aforementioned drunken girls.)  Fast forward about 8 years later.  Hillel has talked us into waiting in line (he did most of the waiting) to be first in the door at The Moore Theater to see Ben Folds Five at a General Admission show.  We get there, we got in the door first, we were FRONT ROW.  Rock on.  Great show.  But halfway through it the stage was rushed and our front row seats became more like 5th row.  I simply didn't care enough to fight for my front row seat. 

The ticket prices.  - $250 for a concert ticket?  Fuck you, Don Henley.

Eternal hypocrite that I am, I still attended concerts from time to time.  Even arena ones.  But it was often with a jaded eye and a feeling that the glory days of concert-going were over. 

Then Chris and I found out that The Who were coming to town.  It's at this point that I must let Chris tell the story.  (Go ahead, read it.  I'll wait.)

It was a marvelous show.  None of the winking, cutesy, retro "Oh, here we were in younger days" stuff that so many bands of their ilk have resorted to.  These guys played their hits like they still meant it.  Like they still cared.  And then they played their new stuff with the same passion and intensity. 

While I wouldn't list The Who as one of the favorite bands of my life, they are one of the most important bands of my life.  And it was really wonderful to see them in person and to be downright transported. 

Marie

Marie by Randy Newman

You looked like a princess the night we met
With your hair piled up high
I will never forget
I'm drunk right now baby
But I've got to be
Or I never could tell you
What you meant to me

I loved you the first time I saw you
And I always will love you Marie
I loved you the first time I saw you
And I always will love you Marie

You're the song that the trees sing when the wind blows
You're a flower, you're a river, you're a rainbow
Sometimes I'm crazy
But I guess you know
And I'm weak and I'm lazy
And I've hurt you so
And I don't listen to a word you say
When you're in trouble I just turn away

But I love you and I loved you the first time I saw you
And I always will love you Marie
I loved you the first time I saw you
And I always will love you Marie

Aren't those sweet lyrics?  Sounds even better when he sings it.