Self Help Radio 072617: The Crooked Show

(Original image here.)

My apologies if this show is a little more ramshackle than most - I was incredibly sleep-deprived when I made it, having had to emergency sub at KNON in Dallas two days in a row.  But it makes a little sense that my brain felt a little crooked while I was doing a crooked show, yes?

Personally I think it all came together quite nicely, & I didn't have to resort to crooked means to make the show work.  But much of it I believe was helped by the nice people who agreed to talk to me: famous author of "The Crooked Man" detective novels, Sir David Fruchter; quite possibly crooked philanthropists Leo & Cassandra Di Crew; & my utterly straight-laced spiritual mentor the Rev. Dr. Howard Gently.  When you make a show with dependable guests as well as good music, it doesn't matter if it's a bit crooked.  In my stupid opinion.

The show can be listened to in any fashion, crooked or no, at the Self Help Radio website.  You will need this info: username SHR, password selfhelp.  Trust me.  The show is in two parts, the songs I played as well as the interviews are noted below.

Now straighten up & fly right!

(part one)

"Crooked Little House" Jimmie Rodgers _At Home With Jimmie Rodgers - An Evening Of Folk Songs_
"The Crooked Line" Elvis Costello _Secret, Profane, & Sugarcane_
"Two Crooked Hearts" Langhorne Slim & The Law _The Way We Move_

"Your Picture's Hanging Crooked On The Wall" Anita O'Day _The Complete Anita O'Day Verve/Clef Sessions_
"Crooked Piece Of Time" John Prine _Bruised Orange_
"Crooked Mile" Minisnap _Bounce Around_
"Crooked" Kristin Hersh _Crooked_

interview with mystery writer Sir David Fruchter

"My Crooked Crown" Her Space Holiday _XOXO Panda & The New Kid Revival_
"Crooked Mile" Peter Case _Full Service No Waiting_
"The Crooked Place" Glass Eye _Hello Young Lovers_
"Crooked Dreams" Masha Qrella _Analogies_

"The Crooked Beat" The Clash _Sandinista!_

(part two)

"Crooked Woman Blues" Barbecue Bob _Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 1: 1927-1928_
"Crooked Woman" Edd Henry _Eccentric Soul: The Big Mack Label_
"Crooked Cigarette" The Reverend Horton Heat _It's Martini Time_

interview with philanthropists Leo & Cassandra Di Crew

"Crooked Lines" The Go-Betweens _Bright Orange Bright Yellow_
"My Crooked Arms" Math & Physics Club _Our Hearts Beat Out Loud_
"The Crooked Man" Joan Gerber _The Story Lady_
"Crooked Paper Clip" Cats On Fire _Dealing In Antiques_
"Crooked Street" Neil Diamond _The Complete Bang Recordings_

interview with the Reverend Doctor Howard Gently

"The Crooked Trail To Holbrook" Slim Critchlow _Cowboy Songs_
"Crooked Dice" Leo Ogletree _Rock & Roll - Original Masters_
"Crooked-Eyed Engineer" Michael J. Sheehy _With These Hands: The Rise & Fall Of Francis Delaney_
"Crooked Road & The Briar" Calexico _Aerocalexico_
"Crooked Man" Eleni Mandell _I Can See The Future_

"Crooked Composure" Tania & Juan _Crooked Composure_
"Kid With Crooked Face" Bob Mould _Beauty & Ruin_

Whither The Crooked Show?

(From a blog about crooked house, here.)

Last night I was on the radio on a different station in a different town from the station on which Self Help Radio airs.  Before the show, I was telling someone at the station about Self Help Radio & its different themes, & she asked, "What do you mean, themes?"  When I explained, she asked for examples.  As usual, my mind drew a blank - once I've done a show, it seems like my brain does a core dump & I can't remember the most recent themes explored.  It's frustrating, but it's understandable - once a show is done, I need to concentrate on the next.  But I did know what this week's show is about, so I said, "This week's show is called the crooked show."

At which point he said, "Like crooked Hillary?"

Oh no! I thought.  Is that the reason the word "crooked" found its way into my brain, making me want to do a radio show about crooked things?

By the way, she said it with a smile - she wasn't supporting the current president or anything - but the power of repetition is striking - when looking for images of crooked things, like the one above, I typed "crooked" into Google image search, & one of the first images was of course Hillary Clinton.  (To be fair, a couple rows down there were pictures of Trump, which might not be what he wanted when he said that word so many times.)

Frankly I can't really say.  I certainly hope not.  But the reasons for each theme are not always so clear.  They never have been.  Something strikes me, I let it germinate, eventually there's either a show or there isn't.  The crooked show made it.  I don't think I'll mention the election or unfounded allegations tonight, but it just might be what got me thinking in the first place.

Anyway, if you want to hear Self Help Radio be more crooked than it's ever been, the show is on tonight from 9-11pm eastern, 8-10pm central, on 93.9 fm WLXU in Lexington & online at the Lexington Community Radio web site, especially if you choose WLXU.  Anyway, I am not a crooked!  Or something like that.

Preface To The Broken Show: On Other Radio

This has been an exhausting few days, radio-wise.

First I was asked to sub a show on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning.  That would be tonight.  It's a jazz show.  I was asked last Thursday.  I started gathering the jazz.

Then I was told it was promised to someone else.  I put away the jazz.

Then the Station Manager of KNON told me he wanted me to do one of the nights; the other sub would do the other.  I dragged the jazz out & listened to jazz almost all weekend long.

Last night as I was falling asleep, I got a call from the Station Manager and the fellow who normally does the show.  The other sub didn't show up!  Could I do it?  I drove the forty-five minutes to Dallas in the middle of the night & jazzed for two hours.  It was not an inspiring set.

This morning I got two calls from the Station Manager.  The first said yes, I should also do the show tonight.  I was ready to marshal all the jazz.  Then another call came & said the other sub misunderstood instructions & wanted to do the show.  I was all right with that - better to find that out now than drive to Dallas & discover it that way!

Meanwhile, yesterday, I was asked if I wanted to sub the show before the jazz show I was then subbing on Wednesday morning.  Six hours on the radio?  Why the hell not?  So I said yes.

Which means I am still subbing a show on a Tuesday evening.  That's tonight, from ten to midnight central time.  So I'd best leave for Dallas now!

But man am I a little confused & a lot sleep-deprived!

Also, I have a lot of jazz that I will have to wait to use at some point later.

Rowlf

(Rowlf & Rufus walk to the car to go to the park, April 2017)

Today I lost a friend.  We weren't close friends, we actually barely knew each other, but as I love every animal I meet, I loved him instantly.  He was my wife's mother's dog, he was a poodle mix named Rowlf, & I guess he was kind of like a brother-in-law.

My wife advised her mother, since she was getting older, that she should get a dog, that it would encourage her to exercise, & on a visit, she accompanied her mother to the shelter to adopt Rufus, the large basset hound up there.  (He's sixteen in that picture.)

My mother-in-law would take Rufus to the dog park, & one day, when it was a little rainy, Rowlf was there, & he & Rufus played.  She didn't see any other people around, & figured that Rowlf was a stray.  Rowlf decided to jump into the car with his newfound friend when it was time them to leave.  You can say quite correctly that Rowlf saved himself.

He was a lovable dog, beset by infirmity from day one: cataracts caused him to go blind when he was still young, & old age robbed him of his hearing.  When I visited last year, he eagerly wanted to play, & would reward my moving around by trying to hump my arm.  Already at that point he had tumors growing on & in him.  Veterinarians advised to keep him happy, he wasn't showing any signs of discomfort.  (Dogs are usually good about not showing signs of discomfort.  They think they're doing us a favor by being brave.)

Some time in the past year, he had a stroke, doctors believed.  He was more puppyish, playing with long-forgotten toys, & prone to wandering, confused about where he was.  When I visited in April, there was no humping, though he was sweet as ever.  & he loved walks.  We took him & Rufus on lots of walks.

Rowlf died today, he was probably fifteen years old, & thanks to the kindness in the heart of my mother-in-law, he doubtless lived a lot longer than fate had in store for the poor-sighted poodle that was probably abandoned at a dog park.  He never told us his story, of course, & he never wanted to, because he had found a home full of love, where he lived a life every dog should be allowed to live.

Myself, I'm just so grateful & glad that I got to know him.

Things About Myself That Somehow Changed & About Which I Am Glad # 2: Cooking

It would be very nice if somehow it was on the record that I always wanted to be a cook.  I loved to eat, it made sense I would love to cook.  I remember as a child having access to one of those 1960s Betty Crocker cookbooks of simple meals & daydreaming about being able to make them.  Alas, my mother was most definitely not a cook - she could make scrambled eggs, stews, & things from packages, & also fry meats, but that was about it.  If a recipe needed a teaspoon, well, there was no teaspoon to be found anywhere in the house.

In eighth grade, I took a Home Economics class, & I liked the chemistry of cooking - I liked following the instructions of a recipe - & although most of what I remember of the class was sitting behind the "popular" boys as they ogled the "popular" girls, I might have found a calling somewhere if my home life had given me opportunities to actually make food.

But we were poor.  Food was either pre-packaged or easy to make.  Macaroni & cheese, hamburger helper, rice-a-roni.  My mother was working much of my childhood, & my older siblings doubtless subsisted on fast food, so many meals came from cans.  Or, when a pizza place opened in the neighborhood, were ordered in.

It wasn't really until college that I had to fend for myself & even then, it was meager & dumb.  I became a vegetarian in the second month of college, & probably was the lamest vegetarian for several years after that.  Macaroni & cheese played a huge part in my life, as did potato chips, & I ate a lot of Ranch Style Beans until, a year later, I discovered there was lard in the beans.  Those are the pitfalls one must accept if one is to live in a meated society.  Yeah, I coined a word!  We live in a supergross meated society.  You carnivorous fucks.

& though I toyed with veganism once or twice or thrice throughout the years, I didn't fully commit until a few years ago*.  The wife & I found ourselves in a very inhospitable place (West Virginia) & deciding to commit to veganism (which I believe is a natural development of those who become vegetarian for ethical reasons), & I realized we would starve to death (or eat some pretty mediocre meals) if I didn't start cooking.

Now, I had cooked before.  It had been novel, girlfriends had said, wow, I didn't know you could cook, etc.  But most of the time I ate out: falafels, tofu, pizza, whatever.  Learning to cook was a heavy thing.

The wife (as the girlfriend) had only a few recipes up her sleeve, & I started small: nachos, a black bean casserole, sweet potato burritos.  But as time went on, I upped my game.  I found recipes online & I bought cookbooks.  I began to enjoy the process.

& never let it be said that I am a great chef.  Here's how I consider myself: like someone in a cover band, who knows he or she will never be a great musician, learning how to play the songs someone else wrote**.  I follow a lot of recipes, I sometimes vary, I sometimes add, but I have never made a recipe from scratch.  I just don't have it in me, nor do I find it something that I want to do.  If that makes any sense.

Did my eighteen year old self think my nearly fifty year old self would take a great of pleasure in cooking?  I don't think so.  Nor did my twenty-eight or thirty-eight year old self.  By the way, when I am alone, I don't take much pleasure in cooking.  Tonight the wife returned from a trip, I cooked for her, & I believe I enjoyed it more than I should've because she was there to enjoy it.

Maybe one day I can cook for you.  That would be fun.

* I should mention that, though I became a vegetarian in September of 1986 as an unloved, barely kissed nerd of 18, nearly everyone since then imagines that the only reason I am a vegan or vegetarian is because of the woman I am dating at the time.  It keeps happening - my wife tells me her colleagues believe I am vegan because she is.

** No disrespect to cover bands.

Self Help Radio 071917: Pencils

(Original image here.)

Pencil fiestas!  Artisanal pencils!  Pencils & paper!  Pencil-necked geeks!  This week's Self Help Radio had them all!

Also, we apologize for all the pencil shavings on the floor.  Someone forgot to clean out the pencil sharpeners.  & for the time being, we have no new pencils, just the little stubby ones that are hard to use because someone just kept sharpening them when they were just fine to use.  Why must pencils make one so anal retentive?

It doesn't matter.  We had a lot of fun, we chewed on a bunch of erasers, we doodled & scribbled while pencils were celebrated around us!

You can enjoy a radio show about pencils now at the Self Help Radio website.  (Hint: username is SHR password is selfhelp.)  There are two parts, each roughly an hour long, & the songs you'll hear on the show are below, as well as the breaks where interview guests go on & on.

What's this?  A number three pencil?!?  Get outta here!

(part one)

"That's What They Put Erasers On Pencils For" The Gems _Chess Rhythm & Roll_
"Pencil Song" Jake Sorgen _Sudden Myth_
"Turn The Pencil Over" Porter Wagoner _Honkytonk Man_

"Pencil Test" Yo La Tengo _Prisoners Of Love (A Smattering Of Scintillating Senescent Songs 1985-2003)_
"The Pencil Broke (& That's All She Wrote)" Lionel Hampton & His Orchestra _The Lionel Hampton Story_
"Pencil Case" The Hidden Cameras _In The NA_
"Pencil Rain" They Might Be Giants _Lincoln_

interview with David Fruchter, putting on the Pencil Fiesta

"Pencil & Paper" Ruth McFadden _The Bert Berns Story: Twist & Shout, Vol. 1 1960-1964_
"My Pencil Won't Write No More" Bo Carter _Raunchy Business: Hot Nuts & Lollypops_
"100 Yellow Pencils" Jad & David Fair _Six Dozen Cookies_
"Pencil Boy" The Richter Scales _We Hate A Capella_

"Pencil Marks On The Wall" Henson Cargill _On The Road: The Mega Years Plus_
"Pencil" Rackett _Don't Try This At Home_

(part two)

"Pencil, Paper, & A Broken Heart" Bill Brock _Tip Top Teeny, Vol. 4_
"Pencils In The Wind" Flight Of The Conchords _Folk The World Tour_
"The Pencil Sharpener" Fishboy _Zipbangboom_

interview with artisanal pencil maker CJ Buchanan

"The Pencil Song" The Diamonds _Four Classic Albums Plus Singles 1955-1961_
"Pencil & A Pad" The Cashews _Small Ponds_
"Pencil Me In" +/- _2002 Teenbeat Sampler_
"Pencil Thin Moustache" A Touch Of Grass _The Creation Of A Band_

interview with spiritual master Rev. Dr. Howard Gently

"Vermillion Pencil" Nits _Omsk_
"Pencil Point" Native Tongue _Yowl_
"Pencil Rot" Stephen Malkmus _Face The Truth_
"Pencil Neck Geek" Fred Blassie _Tales From The Rhino: The Rhino Records Story_

"Pencil Peligroso" Drug Boyfriend _Pencil Peligroso_
"Pencils" Gay Against You _Bogus Totem Summer_

Whither Pencils?

(Image from here.)

Why not pencils, I ask you?  Why not a radio show about writing & drawing implements?  Why not more songs written every day about pens, pencils, paintbrushes?  Even as I type this on a computer keyboard, even as I know my handwriting is now so awful that my cursive is unreadable & my printing at best only slightly less confusing than hieroglyphics, I still ask why not celebrate the best thing we can do with our hands, writing, drawing, doodling, sketching?

But since this show is the vanguard, since we are only just now issuing this call to action, we will have to start with the simple: the humble pencil.  That little wooden tool has been a devoted companion for most of my life, & yet, as I write this, I am ashamed to say I have no pencils on my desk.  Indeed, there are a few pens in a little mug & the only paper is in a drawer in the printer.  What has happened to me?  What has happened to my life?

Today I shall go to some stationary store - not a chain store, not a Max Office or Depot or whatever - & I'll buy some nice pencils & some paper.  I have no letters to write - let's face it, there's something much more satisfying with email - & I have nothing I want to draw.  But to have a desk without paper & pencil?  It makes me feel that I have lost myself along the way.

Tonight's show, a celebration of the pencil, is on from 9-11pm eastern, 8-10 central, on 93.9 fm WLXU in Lexington & online at Lexington Community Radio Online, please choose the WLXU side.  Limited edition copies will be made available after the fact of the show transcribed in pencil.  I wish!

Preface To Pencils: Here's A Sad Story

When I was a kid, I liked to draw.  I have hazy memories of pages & pages of comic book heroes & adventurers I created & started stories about & mostly never finished.  All in pencil.  Even though I read comics religiously, & knew there were things called "inkers," I was never curious enough to say, "What does that mean?  Could I get better at drawing things?  How would I do that?"

It should be noted that, at the time, doodling comics was not something anyone thought was a worthwhile endeavor, except maybe the people doing it, & some admirers, like me.  My siblings didn't care anything about my interests, so there was no encouragement there.  & I, I was probably too shy & self-absorbed to ask anyone for guidance.  It is something I still don't do, & more & more I realize how dumb that is.

& anyway, I don't think I had the skills or the desire to be part of that world.  Because those who did the work I read & loved faced greater hurdles but wanted it, wanted it more than anything else in the world.  Then, as now, I was quite lazy.

But, again, no one in my family thought any of my scribblings were worthwhile.  In fact, one day, in seventh grade, I came home from school & found the closet where I kept my papers, years of them, for elementary school up, in a couple of boxes, I found that closet "straightened up."  My things were gone.  When I asked where they were, I was told they had been thrown away.

Of course I was startled & hurt.  My sister Pat was visiting & I guess she helped my mother do some cleaning.  There were things in that box that I had drawn, that I occasionally returned to, little half-page comics I had made in third & fourth grade which I shared with friends.  How strange & wonderful it would be to see those things again!  But they disintegrated in a city dump so long ago.

Thinking about it, I can't remember if I cried, but I must have.  I was a very tearful boy, a crybaby of the old school.  Years later, in a very damaged state, someone struck me - it's a long story - & I just burst into tears like I was that seventh grader again, who had discovered that nothing was really his, that things he valued were just garbage & clutter to the adults who were supposed to be role models & mentors for his life.  I had learned the arrogant disrespect that the old inherently feel for the young; I had learned that those who know better know very little, especially about those in their care whom they are supposed to be nurturing.

Since that day I have lost so much more, & most of it not written in pencil; the subsequent drawings I guarded fiercely, & the last time I looked at them - it's been over seven years now, since I boxed them up when we moved from West Virginia to Kentucky - many of the pencil marks on those pages have faded.  My first novella - a horribly rushed pastiche of Kurt Vonnegut & comic books that my friend Terri actually read & told me, "It's terrible" before I took it away from her - it's all but illegible now, as I wrote it in pencil, both sides, its awfulness soon to be indecipherable - it was in there, too, & there was a comfort in its presence if not in its reminder of my talentless self.

These are the sad things I think about when I think about pencils.  But is it really sad?

It's Time For An Old Poem

Do you mind?  I have nothing to say, & this was written when I might have believed I had something to say, a little over twenty years ago.  It's called Death Treats.

-----

take the shadows, keep them outside the box, prop your big body between
them & the wet, hard summer night.  i don't have anything to say, really,
about noses, breasts, tongues, ankles, birthmarks, scratches, james joyce
or idaho.  i have nightmares because i want out of all this.

the gun goes in the mouth, points up.  afterwards, my cat eats the brains,
or something.  it could be a punchline of a joke, it could be the end of an
x-files episode, it could be something you forward to your favorite mailing
list.  i can't bear the fact that i have lost everything meaningful to me.

i have forgotten, i don't know how anymore, to communicate, to tell even
people who are or were friends how i am doing.  often i am doing something
so i do not know how i am doing.  the balloon drains slowly of air, i crawl
out of bed, i take the cigarette out of my mouth, i inflate all over again.

so, crybaby, the nothing left tastes like a sore throat, it drains down
your throat like some sinus disorder, it sets in the stomach like a
doctor's appointment, it never goes away.  i daydream about the
mythological stories where everyone changes into something else.  i can
only change into me.

my dusty past in cartons, crates, containers, real love, real connection,
things i think i kept in a folded piece of paper, in a letter from some
authority figure, in photographs, on audio & video cassettes, in locks of
hair, toenails, teeth, empty bottles of medicine, rat bones - where to take
it?

you can't take it with you.  you can't go home again.  you don't know what
you got until you lose it.  you can't teach an old dog new tricks.  you
can't win unless you play.  you can count the cliches like raindrops.  i am
unable to say exactly what i mean.  but i mean it.

Things About Myself That Somehow Changed & About Which I Am Glad # 1: Dog Walks

Will this be a long story?  I hope not.

When I first met the woman I would eventually marry, I had two cats & she had a dog.  I was, as the saying goes, a "cat person."  This is not to say I didn't like dogs - I loved them.  I would pet them, play with them, roll around on the ground with them.  But my lifestyle seemed to be more cat-oriented - cats were more self-sufficient, they didn't seem to need my affection as much, etc.  & so I kinda looked down on "dog people."

Oh man, I used to get so annoyed at the "dog bandana" people in Austin who brought their dogs (fully bandanaed) to pubs & restaurants.  The dogs just seemed miserable.  They'd pant in the heat under the tables while their owners ate & drank & smoked & rarely paid any attention to them.

Then, alas, I started dating a woman with a dog.  It's not fair to call her a "dog person" as she had loved many cats in her past.  But she brought a dog into my catty life.

& yes, she took her fucking dog everywhere.  Not just to restaurants & pubs, no.  She went on long walks with him every damn day, especially to the so-called "green belt" in Zilker Park, where she'd disappear for hours while I was at work.  What was up with that?

She invited me, from time-to-time, usually on the weekends, when I didn't have to work.  (She was a grad student, she had very few responsibilities.*)  I'd want to sleep in, I wouldn't want to escape the crushing Austin heat by waking up too early in the morning & then spend four sweaty hours walking in pseudo-wilderness with bike riders & other dog people.

Not that I didn't occasionally go.  When we adopted a second dog, Ringo, & a third dog, Winston, I did find the time to make those weekend outings, but I confess I was always unimpressed by the unstructured nature of the walks, by what seemed to me to be a waste of time disguised as exercise.

Eventually, we moved from Texas, & ended up in West Virginia, then Kentucky.  & around that time, something changed.  I wish I could tell you what it was, but I think it had something to do with two things:

1) I became closer to the dogs.  & 

2) I recognized the walks for what they were: bonding time.

After we moved, I stopped working a regular nine to five/eight to five/eight to four/whatever job.  I spent most of my time with my animals, which meant the dogs as well as the cats.  & we - the dogs & I - became close.  So when it came time for walks, fuck yeah I wanted to go.  I liked to be around them.  We were buds.  We loved each other.  Let's go for a motherfucking walk!

At this point in time the wife & I were married, so we would go on the walks & we discovered that we could use this time, this specific time, this specifically demarcated time, to talk about things that were important to us.  It was not uncommon for the wife to come home from work & say, "I have so many things to tell you, leash the kids up."

It's almost a certainty that, by the second year we lived in Lexington, I was a true believer in dog walks.  So much so that now, when the wife is away doing work stuff in far-flung places, I will still drag my lazy ass out of the bed at the early hour of six am - before it gets too fucking hot in Texas - to walk the dogs their average three miles a day.

You heard me!  Three miles!  Three miles of pooping, peeing, dragging, & sweating!

If you were to hang out with me & my future wife in 2003, just two years into our relationship, & you were to say to me, "In less that ten years, you will not only walk the dogs every day with your wife, but you will also enjoy it, & you will do it without her when she is not able," I would have laughed in your face.  It was inconceivable.

Now it is one of my daily joys.  & I am so glad I changed.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

* Boy, would she get mad at that joke.

Self Help Radio 071217: Rubber

(Original image from this video, which, oh why not, just watch it.)

Yes, an entire show about rubbers.  Surprisingly, though rubber clothing & "rubbers" make their appearance, the show focused more on rubber bands (lots of rubber bands), rubber balls, rubber dolls, & other rubbery things.  Who knew rubber had sparked the imagination of so many?

In addition to the music, I talked to my spiritual advisor, the CEO of a rubber corporation, an entrepreneur who hawks miracle rubber trees, & a critic of the show looking to set records straight.  I note when the interviews happen in-between the sets.  All in all, it's more interesting than trying to take off a rubber wet suit, but only just.

You can bounce yourself along to the Self Help Radio website to listen.  You will need a username ("SHR") & a password ("selfhelp") if you want to listen.  The show is in two parts, & all the rubber songs I played are listed below.

The German word for rubber may be Gummi.  That seems inappropriate, but how would I know?

(part one)

"Rubber Bouncy Ball" The Telephone Company _Panda Brain!_
"Rubberbands" Bruce Haack _Hush Little Robot_
"Burn Rubber (Why You Wanna Hurt Me)" The Gap Band _Gap Band III_

"Rubber Ball" The Avons _The Best Of The Sixties_
"Red Rubber Ball" The Diodes _The Diodes_
"Rubberhead" Steve Martin _Comedy Is Not Pretty!_
"Rubber Band" David Bowie _The Deram Anthology 1966-1968_
"Rubberband Girl" Kate Bush _The Red Shoes_

interview with the Rev. Dr. Howard Gently

"Rubber Dolly" Mississippi John Hurt _D.C. Blues: The Library Of Congress Recordings, Vol. 1_
"Rubber Biscuit" The Chips _Great Googa Mooga!_
"Rubber People (Decca Demo)" Adam & The Ants _Antmusic For Sexpeople_
"Rubber Room" Porter Wagoner _What Ain't To Be, Just Might Happen_

interview with CEO of Fruchter Rubber, David Fruchter

"Stretchin' Out (In A Rubber Band)" Bootsy Collins _Stretchin' Out In Bootsy's Rubber Band_

(part two)

"Rubberneckin' (Paul Oakenfold Remix)" Elvis Presley _Elvis 2nd To None_
"Stretch Your Rubber Band" The Meters _Anthology_
"High Hopes (with Eddie Hodges)" Frank Sinatra _Sinatra In Hollywood: 1940-1964_

interview with rubber tree entrepreneur CJ Buchanan

"Rubber Duckie" Ernie _Sesame Street: Platinum All-Time Favorites_
"Put My Rubber Doll Away" Bill Monroe _Bluegrass (1959-1969)_
"Rubber Ducky Massage Parlor" Conception Corportation _Complete Conception_
"Red Rubber Army" Robert Pollard _Jack Sells The Cow_
"The Rubberband Man" The Spinners _The Best Of The Spinners_

interview with critic of the show Allen Shariaty

"Fancy Rubber Things" The Gargoyles _Steamflapper_
"Wood, Lead, Rubber" Agent Ribbons _We Are All Awesome_
"Tight Black Rubber" Frank Black _Bluefinger_
"Rubber Quince" Tania Rivas _Rubber Quince_
"Rubber Ball" Talulah Gosh _Backwash_

"The Rubber Band" Eddie Bo & The Soulfinders _New Orleans Funk, Vol. 2_
"Funky Rubber Band" Popcorn Wylie _The Complete Motown Singles, Vol. 11B: 1971_

Whither Rubber?

(Tapping a rubber tree.  Image from here.)

For the past few weeks it seems like I've been hearing songs - not voices - I don't hear voices - unless I'm hearing lines of dialogue from television or film or comedy or spoken words records - or in songs of course - I mean to say I'm not hearing specific voices that seem to be speaking only to me which are also telling me to do things - which might mean that I am saying that I don't hear voices that tell me which themes to explore on the show - although that would be much easier than my current process - anyway as I was saying I was hearing songs - & yes of course the songs had voices in them, human voices, so by listening to songs I've been listening to voices but my initial digression was a clarification because the phrase "hearing voices" has a specific meaning in our culture - maybe I should start again.

For the past few weeks it seems like a lot of the songs I've been listening to were about rubber bands. I was listening of course to a bit of funk.  & I thought to myself, I should do a show about rubber bands!  But then it occurred to me that that was perhaps too narrow a theme.  That maybe I should include other rubber things.  So I did.  I expanded the scope of the theme.

There are still probably many more rubber band songs than others, but the show has been entirely rubberized.  I'm sure it'll be elastic fun.

& it's on tonight on 93.9 fm WLXU in Lexington & online at the LCR web site (make sure you choose WLXU) from 9-11pm eastern, 8-10 central.  It'll keep moisture out & be very easy to clean.  Promise!

Preface To Rubber: My Early Experience With That Word

Rubber is this word that somehow walked the line between clean & dirty, which made it frequently funny, when I was a kid.  I have a memory of not knowing if I should say it out loud unless it was as an adjective, i.e. rubber eraser, rubber ball.

"Rubbers" is of course what people have called condoms since - when?  The Online Etymology Dictionary says it dates from the 1930s, but the Wikipedia entry on condoms disagrees, saying:

The rubber vulcanization process was invented by Charles Goodyear in 1839, & patented in 1844. The first rubber condom was produced in 1855, & by the late 1850s several major rubber companies were mass-producing, among other items, rubber condoms. A main advantage of rubber condoms was their reusability*, making them a more economical choice in the long term. Compared to the 19th century rubber condoms, however, skin condoms were initially cheaper & offered better sensitivity. For these reasons, skin condoms remained more popular than the rubber variety. However, by the end of the 19th century, "rubber" had become a euphemism for condoms in countries around the world.

Whom should I believe?

Of course, my classmates didn't really talk about condoms until the pubescent shit storm that is middle school, & all I knew is that there was something called rubbers & it had to do with sex.  So one time in seventh grade, when a female classmate came in late to first period because it was raining, & she came in in rain gear, & the teacher said, "Honey, go ahead & take off your rubbers," referring to her galoshes, the guys in the class lost it.

"Honestly," the teacher said, "you boys should grow up."

At this point I should mention that the only sex education available to students of the Garland Independent School District was a filmstrip produced some time in the early 1960s shown in fifth grade.  No follow ups, nothing.

Not that we wouldn't have laughed anyway.

* Their reusability?!?

Speaking Of Traffic

This happened yesterday in Fort Worth.

Someone who knows better than I do must tell me why certain places are more prone to severe weather.  I was dropping someone off at the airport & drove toward the city which looked as though some Tolkien-level evil was about to descend.  On the highway, the rain came at the car horizontally,
accompanied by hail, & people stopped, or drove slowly, or sought refuge under overpasses.

Foolishly I drove through some water but our plucky Prius was up to the task.  I waited the storm out under a business' carport - not much help, because as I pointed out, the rain & hail were being blown sideways into the car - I tried to get out to take a look - & pictures - but was soaked just cracking the door.

My journey home was through side streets, since, as the article above points out, some main roads were impassable.  When I got home, my animals were safe, the car didn't appear to have hail damage, & the only casualties were two tree limbs from two of our pecan trees which, fortunately, did not fall near the house.

Boy did I feel guilty about not being with my pups.  Winston, who just turned ten, is quite frightened by storms.  I hope the others comforted him.

But speaking of traffic - except for the giant truck behind me that kept honking at me to move along on the highway, everyone behaved quite well, slowing down with visibility was nonexistent, & mostly not being dicks.  I'm not sure if I had been stuck in-between cars & rising water that I'd not freak out, but certainly being in terrible weather keeps one on one's toes.

I'm telling you, it was harrowing.

Things I Really Hate # 1: Being Stuck In Traffic

(This nightmare photo from here.)

You know, I'm the sort of guy who doesn't hate things.  If someone I know says they hate a band or a musician, I am more likely to say I just don't like them.  Opinions are opinions, there's no accounting for taste, etc.  I once told someone at a radio station who was shitting on an artist that they just didn't like them, that many other people liked them, that they couldn't dismiss them out of hand as "bad" just because they had a negative opinion.

But traffic is different.  Look.  Human drive cars.  Humans who are stupid have accidents that cause traffic.  Humans who are stupid decide in a situation where their attention should be on the road to do other shit.  They decide to drive poorly.  They decide to talk to their moronic friends on their phones. They decide to do anything but as quickly as possible get from one place to another.

This happened yesterday: while taking my wife to the airport, I found myself on a highway reduced to a standstill.  At one point, someone decided to just sit in her car & use the time to rummage through her back seat.  Yards of empty space opened before her idling minivan.  People honked.  To no avail.

The reason for the slowdown was an accident at an important exit so also fuck those guys.  But traffic slowdowns are not excuses to fuck around.  Everyone in their cars is just as important as everyone else.  When you as a driver decide to be nonchalant, you're fucking everyone else over.  Also, if you decide you're more important than anyone else, &, say, decide to drive on the shoulder - you're also fucking everyone else over.  God damn it!

But that moment when everyone isn't moving, & it seems like nothing is happening, & there's no way out - agh! I hate that.  I feel like someone who's about to go crazy.

Today I drove in a terrible storm.  Rain & hail were blowing sideways, the streets filled with water, it was terrifying.  But I would prefer that to being stuck in traffic.

Seriously.

Self Help Radio 070517: Warnings

(Original image here.)

Here is an episode of Self Help Radio that should've aired last night, but didn't, most probably for reasons involving human error, i.e. me.  I'm pretty sure it's my fault & I apologize.

Since I live in Texas & the show airs in Kentucky, the show is pre-recorded for your protection.  Therefore I can share with you the show (sprinkled with LXU spots so it feels like a real broadcast) & you can listen at your leisure.  I was pretty proud of this show, which I think has a good mix of music as well as some very funny bits by my very funny collaborators.  If you just listen & fast-forward through to the interviews, I will not be offended.  They're the best part of my shows!

Wait! I hear you say.  Why not just air the episode next week?  My wife said the same thing.  Alas, I feel like the show is done, I am already at work on the next one, I want to keep things moving.  If I had all the time in the world, maybe.  But for now it seems weird & wasteful for me to sit on my hands all next week & do nothing.

Please enjoy this week's show - no warning necessary - available now at Self Help Radio dot net.  It's in two parts - you know the drill - plus I note below when the interviews happen so you can find them easier.

Next time, maybe I'll be able to give you a little warning when I fuck something up.

(part one)

"The Warning" Paul Hunter _Earth_
"Warning" Junior Delgado _Effort_
"A Warning" Conception Corportation _Complete Conception_
"Warning" The Humans _Project Blue_

"Early Warning System" Red Deer People _Between Two Waves: The Second Wave_
"Positive Warning" Lake _Circular Doorway_
"Without A Warning" The Amazers _Curtom Funk_
"I Warned You Baby" Frankie Lee Sims _The Ace Blues Masters, Vol. 2: 4th & Beale & Further South_

Interview with my spiritual mentor the Rev. Dr. Howard Gently

"You Better Heed My Warning" Larry Dale _New York City Blues: The Big Apple Blues Scene 1951-1954_
"Everybody Warned Me" Bill Morrissey _Inside_
"Warning Sign" Talking Heads _More Songs About Buildings & Food_
"Warning Shots (feat. Sleepy Wonder & Gunjan)" Thievery Corporation _It Takes A Thief: The Very Best Of Thievery Corporation_

Interview with our friend Allen Shariaty in Maryland

"World Without Warning" Anne Clark _Pressure Points_

(part two)

"You Have Been Warned" The X-Certs _Avon Calling: The Bristol Compilation_
"Storming Warning" 3-Action! _(Don't Lose That) Stealin' Feelin' 12"_
"Early Warnings" Love Is All _Two Thousand & Ten Injuries_

"Brother Take Warning" Roy Acuff & His Smoky Mountain Boys _King Of Country Music_
"Warning Parental Advisory" John Wesley Harding & Steve Wynn _Just Say Anything (Vol. V Of Just Say Yes)_
"Warning Labels On Alcoholic Beverages" George Carlin _When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?_
"Without A Word Of Warning" Gary Lewis & The Playboys _A Session With Gary Lewis & The Playboys_
"I Warned You Do Not Make An Enemy Of Me" Los Campesinos! _Romance Is Boring_

Interview with Warnings Specialist CJ Buchanan

"Heed My Warning" Louis Jordan _Louis Jordan & His Tympany Five, Vol. 5: 1949-1950_
"Warning Blues" Johnny Otis & His Orchestra with Linda Hopkins _Midnight At The Barrelhouse (Rockin' California R&B 1945-1951)_
"I'm Warning You Baby" Lightnin' Slim _Authentic Excello R&B_
"Double Warning" I-Roy _Don't Check Me With No Lightweight Stuff (1972-1975)_

"Frozen Warnings" Nico _The Marble Index_
"Sky Warning" James Pants _Seven Seals_

Whither Warnings?

(A warning sign warning you to pay attention to warning signs*, found here.)

Oh man, I have to apologize for how many times on the show tonight I'm going to warn you about things.  I'm going to say over & over, I just know it, that I warned you, that you should heed the warning, that you've been warned.  I'm so sorry.  I won't be able to help myself.

& damn it, I just realized that that's kind of a warning, too!  Warning: I will be warning you about me warning you on a show with songs about warning.  Jiminy Crocker, I'm a fucking cliché.

Anyway, here's another warning: Self Help Radio is on tonight (!) with a show about warnings.  From 8-10pm central time, 9-11pm eastern.  On WLXU 93.9 fm in Lexington, on the computer at Lexington Community Radio online purt near everywhere.

After all these warnings, well, you're on your own.

* Are these signs unique to Texas?

Preface To Warnings: Happy Fourth Of July!

Hope you didn't blow yourself up today.  Apparently a lot of people do.

Maybe instead on this day you take a moment to read the Declaration Of Independence?  Maybe if more people did, this might be a more thoughtful country?  Or what?

More dumb radio stuff tomorrow!

Things I'm Really Afraid Of # 1

These fuckers:

Seriously, they scare the shit out of me.  One flew into our house last night - yes, they fly - & I just freaked out.  My wife was all like, "It's just a bug," but as I tried to explain to her, one, fears are by their nature irrational, & two, since I was a kid, I was aware they they're basically just icky survival machines but the fact that occasionally they seem to be coming after me makes it hard to forget they don't have agency.

Truly I am really afraid of these awful insects.  Agh!  I can't stand looking at that image anymore!  Gotta go!

(Ugh, that image from this web page.)

Might I Share?

Some of you may have noticed that I have subbed three different KNON shows in the past two weeks.  It was a punishment of riches - KNON deejays either usually have collaborators on their shows or simply do not miss shows.  But I was the lucky beneficiary of three morning shows in less than two weeks.  My gratitude cannot be understated.

But ah!  Someone, who shall not be named but who is a real person I promise, wrote a nice email to the station's Traffic Director, & he shared it with me.  So I would like you to see it too.  It went like this (all caps in the original, although I have italicized it to set it apart from this text):

Loyal listener here with two quick thoughts*:

CAN WE PLEASE HAVE A GARY SHOW?!?

His fill-in shows have been a DELIGHT. Tuesday for Nil, and yesterday and today** were SO. MUCH. FANTASTIC. Eclectic, educational, unpredictable, funny. (Even when the @!#?-%  CD player was uncooperative this morning.)

End of email.  How nice is that?

Honestly I can't say if even a dozen of these would mean getting a show on KNON, but, as it stands, it remains (after nine months) the best chance for Self Help Radio to be heard in the D/FW Metroplex.

Which is not to say I am ungrateful for the love that Lexington & WLXU continue to give to this ridiculous radio show I do.  I am utterly amazed that Self Help Radio continues to air in Lexington & I truly love WLXU & WLXL for their diversity.  I just really, really want to do the show live again.  I think you can understand that.

But until that time, getting sweet & supportive emails like this will sustain me.  My damaged self-esteem may grumble, but I recognize it's really cool & nice.

* I don't include the second thought as it is not pertinent to the praise of me I am sharing.

** Written after the Thursday & Friday Morning Blend sub shows.