Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

Absolutely Riveted To The English Auction Shows.


in

See if you can follow me. I am watching a show in which professional antiquers cruise through a family’s home and look for items of value. The families in question always have a need or a goal for the money raised. This week, a husband and wife wish to buy a rather expensive goat. After the walkthrough, the pros compile a list of everything they feel is of value to antique hunters. Then they take those items to an auction, while the original owners stand on the sidelines and knaw at their knuckles to see if the estimates will be reached, exceeded or shitcanned.

I don’t believe this – After selling furniture, 2 paintings, a set of 3 barometers, a 200 year old grandfather clock, mugs and some dishes – these folks still need 190 pounds to get their goat. Now… How much would I need to pawn to get a goddamn life? I’m watching an antique reality show, afterall.

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Wednesday Wadio: A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays


in Wednesday Wadio

Janet told me yesterday that I should remake “Trunk of Funk” in its entirety, and post the whole thing here on Radio Pye. TOF was a cassette tape mix that I made a year or so after high school. It consisted of probably 20 early 90’s rap songs (the golden age as far as I am concerned) and was copied and handed around many times. I’m not gonna do the whole thing, but I’ll do one. I’ll do one.

An oddly named single from De La Soul’s second album, De La Soul Is Dead (“…One of the most progressive, complex and boldly experimental albums hip hop has ever seen.”), A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays “seamlessly incorporates Chicago, Chic and Franki Valli samples into a taut, scratch-heavy disco jam“. The video features Pos, Trugoy and Maceo and guest rapper Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest surrounded by roller skaters on a sunny day in Central Park.

This song would easily make my top 10 list of favorite rap songs of all time. It is so happy, infectious and funky it’s almost hard to resist strapping on skates and looking aimlessly for some long since torn down rink. Whenever I hear this song, I am instantly brought back in time – driving around in my ’79 Chevy Malibu, listening to TOF on the yellow Sony Sport boom box that’s plugged into my rusty cigarette lighter. And I desperately want to get back to 2005. Not really. Pass the peas like they used to say…

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The Big Haunt 2: Paranormal With The Pictures.


in Heartwarming

Janet and I got out to Concord Friday night with stereos, decorations, costumes and about $200 worth of change I wanted to get rid of in tow. They don’t have many of those supermarket sorters in the big city, and I had 6 years worth shrapnel I wanted to move/pay for a keg or two with. I almost exchanged my Chewbacca costume for that of “Hernia-Patient.” The old red house was partially decorated when we got there, and Jim, Stacey, Amy, James and Ryan were hard at work pimping out the remainder. Chris was hard at work sitting on a barstool and making gay jokes. Several folks dropped by to pitch in over the course of the evening, and “B.H. Eve” was a good time all by its lonesome.

Saturday we all got up at the ungodly hour of 10am to start prepping for the second annual Big Haunt. The delegation began weeks ago. Jim was on food. Dave was on music. Phil and Jason were on decorations. James and Ryan would fill in the cracks where needed. Jim’s sushi went to shit. Ryan forgot to get pumpkins. Jim and I sped off to deal with the 3 kegs we’d ordered, and the rest of the crew split up accordingly.

After visiting Alexa’s awesome new store in Concord Center, we then headed to her dad’s to do a little business. While the half barrels were being wheeled out to the truck, I spoke with Mr. B. about his website and some of the ways I thought he could improve it. He reciprocated by hooking us up to an extent which still boggles my mind. And it wasn’t with hugs. Thanks Mr. B! I will return the favor.

After getting the beverages back to the house, we headed up to New Hampshire to pick up the heaters and chafing dishes we’d ordered. As we were driving back after an additional and most productive trip to Costco, a piece of one of the heaters ripped off its bolts and flew into heavy traffic on 95. After hitting a couple of vehicles, the piece of metal disappeared and Jim, James and I pulled over sheepishly to see if anyone had any choice words for us. To my extreme amazement, nobody stopped and we continued on our way. Then the snow started.

While the weather definitely hurt attendence, we dealt with it. After getting back to Concord, Eric dropped by and removed all the snow and leaves off the back lawn with a high powered blower – and I’m not talking about his girlfriend (rim shot). We decorated and wired the attic. Jim got to cooking. I set up the stereos and organized the playlists. Amy arranged the bar and Ryan tapped the kegs. The old Concord contingent works extremely well together, and I reckon it’s because we’ve been on so many of the same landscaping crews over the years. We were ready.

I could go into a lot more detail, but if you were there you know how it played out. And if you weren’t, you were probably invited but blew it off due to a couple of fruity flakes – so just make sure you show up next year and frig off for the time being. There were a lot of cameras there that night, and frankly my pictures aren’t all that exceptional. So email me your best and I’ll add them here. Don’t anyone take this the wrong way, but I think I had more fun planning and setting up for that party than I did in the 6 hours or so that the house was packed. But whatever works – dysfunctional fun none the less.

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Twice The Funk Of James Brown’s Socks.


in

Wow – quiet week on the blog so far. How about that Bruschi? I’m in a bit of a funk as of late. But I rarely leave you hanging, so I’ll press on and keep ‘er going. It may not be pretty. It may involve latex.

I have little patience for moody people. But more and more I realize I’m a card-carrying member of the club. The best I can do is to keep from using it as an excuse to be a jacktard, or take any sort of snivelly whininess out on other people. What it is doing, however, is frigging me up at work occasionally – and I can’t have that.

So tonight I’m going to go home, dust off my Depeche Mode records, have a little pity-party for myself and pull my head out of my puckered nostril. And I’m going to do it all without the help of Ridalin. Shame I never discovered ManRay before it closed.

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