Mar 29, 2010

Viva La Radio

Are you familiar with the work of Kraftwerk? Skinny Puppy? Husker Du? Did you know that Robert Plant, in addition to singing in Led Zepellin, was also one of the founders of what is now unfortunately referred to as "alternative rock?"

We at 94.9 bet that you didn’t. You probably even use the term alternative rock don’t you? Well, you are an idiot. You know less about music than the IT guy who fixes our computers when they go down.

Here at 94.9, where it’s about the music, we know more about music than you do. That’s right. Actually, it’s not so much about the music as it is knowing the most about music. Our DJ’s make college radio DJ’s look like Rick Dees. Matt Pinfield stopped by the other day and said, “damn you guys know a lot about music.” And that’s true, we do know a lot about music.

If indie rock had a clitoris, 94.9 would be in a constant state of fingering that clitoris. Bow to the giant pulsating phallus that is 94.9. Get on your knees and worship the glistening cock that is San Diego’s only source for good music.

You probably think that the stuff you’ve been listening to is good don’t you? I bet you have a classic rock station preprogrammed on your car radio. You probably think that Radiohead’s best album is OK Computer. You probably think that Nirvana’s best album is Nevermind…gotcha, that one was a trick. Nirvana’s best album actually was Nevermind, one of the few instances of a band’s most commercially successful work also being the most accomplished artistically. But even if you do think Nevermind is Nirvana’s best album, it’s most likely for the wrong reasons.

You’re probably going to say you were in a band in high school. Well we were in five, and we played a different instrument in each. You played a five string bass? You pussy. We played a six, fretless.

In fact, this station is so cool, you shouldn’t even be listening to it. Go listen to 91 X. Better yet, why don’t you go to the Hard Rock cafĂ© and eat buffalo wings while you listen to The Verve Pipe. We’ll be in a corner booth at a trendy North Park dive bar listening to Lou Reed and drinking Stella Artois. What’s the name of this bar you might ask? Don’t worry, you’ve never heard of it.

Or instead maybe you and your parents can go have some rockin’ times at the Steely Dan show this weekend. We’ll be wearing a Replacements t-shirt and throwing blood on the concert attendees. Plan on sneaking a joint into the show? We’ll be doing so much Ketamine that we’ll appear comatose.

At 94.9 we recognize that most people are not nearly cool enough to listen to us (In fact, we’ve crunched some numbers and it turns out that there are actually less than ten in the entire City of San Diego). We’re so cool, our office staff are required to wear ear plugs because they are unworthy of the musical gospels we preach.

94.9, it’s about thinking you’re awesome.

Mar 24, 2010

Trip to the Creation & Earth History Museum This Weekend

Yes, I will be taking a trip to the Creation & Earth History Museum in Santee, California on Saturday (believe it or not, they're not open on Sundays). The museum, which is maintained by the "Life and Light Foundation," promises to answer a slew of important questions, including the following:

1) "How old is the Earth?" (Personally, I'm looking most forward to the answer to this one, which I'm guessing is going to be off by a few hundred million years.)
2) "When did the Ice Age occur?"
3) "What is the evidence for the Genesis flood?"
4) "Why is there pain and suffering in the world?" (Finally!)

From its website, the "museum" touts itself as "a show case for a literal six day young earth creation model." I feel like the expression "chomping at the bit" was just invented to describe my anticipation.

Mar 22, 2010

I Always Said I Would Never Get A Tattoo

A friend of mine was standing in the cashier's line of a hardware store a few weeks ago when he noticed something odd. The gentleman wearing a white tank-top undershirt standing in line in front of him had a tattoo on the upper part of his right arm - a cartoon-like depiction of a penis and testicles, with wings. I am not making this up.* I have seen photographic evidence. I won't show the photograph here, for fear that Mr. Dick and Balls (D&B) might track down and shoot my friend upon discovering that he was secretly photographed.** For context, here is a hand-drawn reproduction of the tattoo:

As you can see, the dick and balls are connected, so I think it’s safe to assume that they both belong to the same set of genitals. I also assume that the dick and balls depicted in the tattoo belong to the tattooed gentleman and that the tattoo is a reasonably accurate portrayal of the actual appearance of his dick and balls. Granted, this is pure speculation on my part.

However, as a general rule, I try to avoid rushing to judgment about things like this. With that in mind, I have to admit that it’s entirely possible that the tattoo has a loftier, more artistic purpose than simply showing the world what D&B’s genitals look like. Perhaps it’s even possible that D&B was trying to teach us a lesson that requires a more rigorous and thorough analysis of the tattoo’s meaning.

After all, this isn’t an ordinary set of dick and balls we’re talking about. On the contrary, this set has wings.*** What do the wings represent? Of course, the obvious metaphor is that the wings are angel's wings and the dick and balls are ascending to Heaven or, at least, will one day ascend to Heaven after being favorably judged by their maker (God, not the tattoo artist). In other words: D&B has a heavenly / great set of dick and balls. But I don’t think that this is what D&B had in mind. Anyone with the good judgment and foresight to have a dick and balls tattooed on his arm isn’t going to leap at the first metaphor that comes to mind. Obviously, D&B wants us to dig a little deeper.

For instance, many people associate birds and flight with freedom. It’s certainly possible that D&B, being a lover of freedom and America, is making a subtle statement about freedom’s true nature. Much like Peter Fonda’s character Wyatt in the movie Easy Rider, D&B seems disillusioned with what we as a society have come to accept as freedom, a concept which D&B finds to be in stark contrast with his own. In this regard, D&B will always feel disconnected from his contemporaries, perpetually seeking what he cannot find: true freedom.

Or the tattoo could represent a mixed metaphor. Maybe D&B wants us as Westerners to question our widely shared cultural value that Earthly freedom is the ultimate state of human existence. The winged dick and balls remind us of the Buddhist concept of annica: nothing on Earth is fixed or permanent and nothing that belongs to the Earth can ever be free. D&B shows us that the only freedom we can ever attain as humans is through an elevated state of consciousness.

Or perhaps D&B’s quarrel is not with our concept of freedom but rather with the sexual mores imposed upon all of us beginning in childhood. With his depiction of flying genitals, D&B seeks liberation, not of his mind, but of his sexual being. After all, who are we to restrain D&B (or anyone, for that matter) with our culture’s Puritanical, outdated views on sexuality?

Needless to say, the potential layers of meaning in the tattoo are almost infinite. Do I have my own opinion about what the tattoo means? I will only say that I cannot in good conscience rob any of my readers of their own individual experience with the winged set of dick and balls tattoo by imposing my interpretation on them. I just wouldn't be able to live with myself (like if I had a tattoo of a winged set of dick and balls on my arm).

**I think it’s safe to assume that D&B owns a gun, not that there’s anything wrong with that per se. Also, maybe I’m being paranoid but I wouldn’t put anything past a guy who had a dick and balls tattooed on himself, including tracking someone down and killing him. My concern is heightened here by the fact that D&B intentionally walks around in a Wife Beater in order to show off the tattoo.
***While it may be easy to criticize the tattoo for this fact alone, we would do well to remind ourselves that many great artistic creations require suspension of disbelief.

Mar 14, 2010

Alan Thicke: The Barbara Walters Interview

Barbara: So, Alan, I must say that it is a pleasure to have you here tonight. I think I can speak for America when I say that we have been waiting with baited breath for this moment.

Thicke: Thanks Barbara. That really means a lot. It’s easy to forget sometimes just how important my career has been to my fellow Americans.

Barbara: Aren’t you Canadian Alan?

Thicke: Absolutely.


Barbara: Ok, well, how about we start with Growing Pains, since that is how you really came into your own as a comedic actor.

Thicke: To be quite honest with you Barbara, I have answered so many Growing Pains questions over the years that I've decided to move on and not live in that past. Don’t think of me as Dr. Jason Roland Seaver. Think of me for my body of work as a whole, of which Growing Pains is but a small part.


You know, I was talking with Ron Howard the other day and we were in a discussion about comedy, a subject which I happen to know a fair bit about.

Barbara: Needless to say.

Thicke: Thank you. Anyways, as I was saying, Ron kept insisting that Back To The Future would have been better with me cast as Doc Brown. Although my humility prevented me from agreeing with him aloud, one does not question the artistic vision of Mr. Ron Howard.

Barbara: I couldn’t agree more. Did you ever give any thought to the role of Marty? I mean, it was a bit out of your age range at the time but…

Thicke: Oh, absolutely. In fact, I was just talking to old Marty Scorsese the other day. You know Marty, never stops talking shop. So anyways, me and Marty are chewing the fat at the new Wolfgang Puck restaurant and he said, “Alan, what the hell were you thinking when you turned down Marty McFly?” And I said, “look Marty, I’ll grant you that you’ve done some good work and I respect your opinion, but it just wasn’t the right role for me.” Way too shallow, right? I mean Christ, the guy Forrest Gumps his way through Goodfellas and all of a sudden he’s a casting agent. Give me a break!

Barbara: You definitely have some strong opinions…a quality I have always cherished in you. And such confidence!

Thicke: Thanks Barbara, that really means something coming from you.

Barbara: So what does the future hold for Alan Thicke?

Thicke: The possibilities are really limitless. One project that I’ve had on the back burner for awhile now is a period piece about the Boston Tea Party. I mean, hello, talk about fodder for slapstick comedy.

Barbara: I didn’t know that you had ever done any slapstick.

Thicke: I haven’t but I’m sure I could do it exceptionally well.

Barbara: There’s that confidence again. I love it Alan. I really love it.

Thicke: You know Barbara, over the years many people have come up to me on the street, sidewalk, public restroom, whatever. They always say the same thing, “Alan, how the fuck do you stay so down to earth considering what a huge part of American culture you’ve become?”

Barbara: I can’t wait to hear the answer to this.

Thicke: I always give the same answer: “the key to being Alan Thicke is remembering that I’m just a person, like everyone else.” It would be very easy for me to walk through life conducting myself like the comedic icon that I am, drunk on my own talent and influence. But nobody wants to pay ten bucks to see that guy in a movie theatre. What they want to see is understated perfection, and that’s what I provide to them.

Barbara: Alan, you are simply a treasure.

Thicke: Barbara, please.

Barbara: Of course, I’m sorry. You are far too modest. You know what I think many people at home are wondering? What's a typical day in the life of Alan Thicke? Do you put your pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us?

Thicke: What you have to understand Barbara is that a person as gifted as myself is still human in a lot of ways. I may have a bigger bank account than most of your audience. I have probably slept with more women than most of you men at home can imagine, but I’m still just a person.

Barbara: That’s great Alan, really great.

Thicke: Would you like to hear some poetry I’ve written?

Barbara: Maybe another time.

Thicke: Well, it’s your show. Bitch [whispers].

Barbara: What was that?

Thicke: Oh, nothing. What else would you like to know about me?

Barbara: Well, I have heard rumors that you are interested in expanding your work into the arena of action film. Any truth to that?

Thicke: I can’t say anything definitively, but let’s just say that I have been courted by a certain director of a certain movie starring a certain John Travolta and a certain Sam Jackson to appear in the third installment of Kill Bill.

Barbara: Quentin Tarantino?

Thicke: I didn’t say that Barbara. Don’t put words in my mouth. Miramax would shoot me if they heard I was spreading rumors.

Barbara: You are aware that this will be televised aren‘t you?

Thicke: Please Barbara, you’re talking to the former star of Growing Pains here. Get with the program.

Barbara: Well America, that was Alan Thicke, as told by Alan Thicke. Straight from the horse’s mouth, as they say. Thanks so much for your time.

Thicke: My only wish is that I could value myself as much as everyone else seems to. It’s really pretty amazing when you think about it.

Barbara: To quote the good William Shakespeare, “truer words were never spoken.”

Mar 9, 2010

Thought for the Day

This has been driving me crazy for years: people who refer to someone as a "workaholic." A "workaholic" would be someone addicted to workahol, which doesn't exist. If you are addicted to work, you are a workic, just like if you are addicted to alcohol, you are an alcoholic.

Also, if you're going to use the term "workaholic," you should at least spell it workoholic, because alcohol is not spelled alcahol.

Mar 8, 2010

Concerned Citizen

Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana
September 12, 2001

Dear Madam:

My name is Zelda Winchester and I am a concerned citizen of the great county of Clay, in the great state of Indiana [go Hoosiers!]. My purpose in writing is to make your office aware of a possible terrorist threat in our own community [of all places]. I know, I was surprised too.

Anyways, I was tending to my gooseberry bushes this morning [we must press on in our daily activities, as the Commander in Chief has said] when I noticed something queer. My neighbor, Maxine Johnson, was tending to her own gooseberries, as she does quite regularly. On an unrelated note, Mrs. Johnson, who is a widow-bless her heart-has taken first prize in the Clay County fair with her precious gooseberries seventeen straight years, enough to drive a person not as balanced as myself straight into the boobie hatch.

Today though, Mrs. Johnson was not alone. Working at her direction was what looked to be an illegal Mexican immigrant. I was as surprised as you will no doubt be when you read this. Anyways, this Mexican must have come via the new meat packing plant two counties over. I’m not one to tell rumors, but let’s just say that from what I’ve heard, the good people of Monroe County have had their hands full since the opening of this modern monstrosity!

Anyways, when I tried to engage Mrs. Johnson in conversation, she pretended not to hear me and then she and the Mexican went quickly into her large, centrally cooled home [apparently the crash of the Savings bank in the 80s didn’t hurt all of us]. Anyways, Maxine and the Mexican were in the house for what must have been an hour when they finally emerged and stepped into her car, which she used to drive both of them away [side note: the good widow must have come into some money recently, because she is now driving a new Cadillac, of all things!]. And when she saw me pointedly observing her actions with the Mexican, her face put on a look of strong annoyance [as if I, a concerned citizen, did not have the right to know what’s going on in my own town!].

Anyways, when I later confronted her about the suspicious nature of her activities, she rebuffed my concerns, saying that she had been experiencing severe arthritic symptoms and needed the help of the Mexican to maintain her blue ribbon gooseberries. Had I just fallen off the turnip truck I may have believed her. Fortunately for all of us living under the banner of the red, white and blue, I knew better. A woman of Maxine Johnson’s financial means obviously has the best of medicines at her disposal.

Anyways, I guess the ball is now in your court, no pun intended. I hope you will do whatever is necessary to ensure that this terrorist threat is eliminated before anything drastic happens.

Zelda Winchester

P.S. Jesus loves you!!!


Zelda Winchester
September 14, 2001

Dear Zelda:

I am writing in response to your perplexing letter of September 12, 2001, in which you described what you perceived to be a “terrorist threat.” Although I share your concern for the state of our national security, you should know that you have chosen to air your grievance in the wrong forum.

As the clerk of court, I am unable to respond to any real or perceived “terrorist threats.” My office is mainly responsible for ordinary administrative tasks, including but not limited to issuing license plates, registering automobiles and recording deeds to real property.

If you wish to pursue this matter further, which I personally would not recommend, you should address your concerns to local law enforcement, be that the Center Point city police or the county sheriff.

Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana


Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana
September 18, 2001

Dear Barb [I hope it’s okay that I dispense with formalities]:

Thank you for your prompt and kind response to my letter of September 12, 2001. I know that you will do what is in your heart.

Anyways, I thought I should call your attention to further terrorist activities in our beloved community. I would have written yesterday but I had my weekly canasta game in the afternoon and found myself buried in peach preserve canning until late into the evening [it was nearly eight o‘clock when I finally retired!].

Yesterday I saw my good neighbor Maxine Johnson engaged in what can only be described as un-American activity. It was approximately seven in the morning, so I had been awake for several hours and already had my single cup of coffee that I limit myself to now that I have hypertension, so I know I was clear-minded. Anyways, I was looking across the yard into Maxine’s garage from a secluded view on my sun porch.

What I saw shocked me, and I am a woman of the world, so that’s saying a lot! Mrs. Johnson was pulling something out of her trunk as she had just returned home from God knows where. I can’t be sure of what I saw, but it looked as though it could have contained explosives.

Despite all of the admonitions from national pundits that the next terrorist attack will probably occur in an urban area, [which would be infinitely more justified] I am savvy enough to know that the bread basket of America is more important to our great country than any slum-filled, minority-laden metropolis. And, although these terrorists look dumb, some of them are quite smart and have probably figured this out as well.

Let your conscience be your guide.


P.S. The next time you see your sister Penny, please thank her for her wonderful contribution to the annual Future Farmers of America hayride. Her rhubarb cobbler should have no competition at next summer’s fair!


Zelda Winchester
September 26, 2001

Dear Zelda:

Although I thought my letter of September 14, 2001 was quite clear regarding my functions as the clerk of court, apparently you found its language ambiguous.

My office has no law enforcement function of any kind. We are not involved with the investigation or punishment of any criminal acts, including terrorist activities. I explained this to you personally on September 16, 2001 when you came into the office to transfer title of an automobile to your grandson Eric.

My job duties have in no way changed since that conversation, nor have the duties of any of my co-workers [here I would like to reference a phone call you made to my secretary, Patti Hornbaker, on September 17, 2001 to alert the court of a possible terrorist threat posed by your son-in-law].

On a personal note, I should say that I have known your son-in-law Frances since he was a child, as I used to baby sit him. I am quite certain that he is not now nor has he ever been involved in the production of methamphetamine. I also find it ridiculous that you would accuse him of harboring Iraqi terrorists in his basement. We were both in attendance at the Labor day barbecue he and your daughter hosted and you know just as well as I do that the only other people living in that house are your grandkids, whom Frances and your daughter provide quite well for.

I hope this will finally settle the matter.

Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana

P.S. I mentioned to Penny that you were quite fond of the cobbler. She says thank you.
P.P.S. I heard the hayride was a great success.


Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana
September 27, 2001

Dear Barb:

Thank you for your encouraging response. When the dust settles, it will be people like you and I who have made this world safe to live in again.

You may or may not be surprised to hear that I have witnessed further terrorist activity by my neighbor, the good widow, Maxine Johnson. Today as she was returning from a rather expensive lunch with her rebel-rousing friend Kathy Huffington [I have a friend who works across the street at the tire shop, which is the only reason I know this], I overheard the two of them engaged in a political discussion.

Needless to say, Maxine, who is a Democrat [like the unfortunate name of our local rag/newspaper] had some less than flattering things to say about our leader President George W. Bush. I only managed to hear a few seconds of the conversation, but what I did hear was enough to peak my cautious skepticism of her love of freedom and America.

I won’t go into the details, because everyone knows there’s nothing worse than a gossip. However, this should serve as notice to your office that Maxine Johnson is a threat, and an immediate one at that!

Zelda Winchester

P.S. Hope to see you at church this Sunday!


Zelda Winchester
October 22, 2001

Dear Zelda:

Your repeated mailings, in addition to being misguided, have become a hindrance to the proper operation of the court. I request that you cease all efforts at communication with me and this office.

Although I would probably do well to leave it at that and consider this nonsense a thing of the past, I cannot resist the urge to make a few personal comments.

First, I find it deplorable that you would go to such great lengths to tarnish the image of Mrs. Johnson, a woman with whom you have been friends for over thirty years. I am also astonished that you would accuse her of being a terrorist when you know full well, just as everyone in town does, that Mrs. Johnson is so riddled with arthritis that she has trouble taking care of herself and thus requires part-time medical care in her home at times of severe symptoms.

Further, your apparent obliviousness to my repeated statements that this office is in no way involved in law enforcement leaves me no choice but to think you have as your goal to make my life more difficult.

I will ask you a final time to not direct any further accusations of terrorist activity to this office. And, for God’s sake, mind your own business.

Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana


Barb Cooke
Clerk of Court of Clay County, Indiana
October 23, 2001

Dear Barb:

As always, I want to thank you for your tireless service to this great community. As you are no doubt aware, our terrorist threat has been stamped out. The widow Johnson, bless her heart, passed away in her sleep last night. The newspaper said she died of a stroke, but I think we both know that the true cause was the swift and unerring justice of our own Federal Bureau of Investigation.

A court of law probably would have been swayed by some slick lawyer from Bloomington or Fort Wayne anyway, so it’s just as well.

Anyways, I guess we can both sleep a little easier, for now. Just a hint, though, I would keep your eye on my new neighbors. I haven’t seen anything specifically terrorist-related, but I did notice that the man of the house was wearing corduroy pants. Corduroy pants!

Anyways, God bless us all.

Zelda Winchester

P.S. See you at the visitation.
P.P.S. I’m bringing my famous gooseberry pie!