Learned this past weekend on a trip visiting my 81-year-old aunt that my grandmother’s cousin (my first cousin, twice removed) was a songwriter in California. And that I’m named for him, by way of my dad. (Fucked up spelling and all.) Here’s one of his tunes that Bing Crosby recorded.
And here’s another that could be fun to work up as a rocker.
My parents wouldn’t let me stay up to watch Starsky & Hutch, but I still get a thrill when I see an old Gran Torino.
David Soul—beloved husband, father, grandfather and brother—died yesterday after a valiant battle for life in the loving company of family. He shared many extraordinary gifts in the world as actor, singer, storyteller, creative artist and dear friend. His smile, laughter and…
This stupid, irresistibly catchy song by a band with a very uncatchy name is a perfect example of the kind of vacuous, boneheaded bubblegum pop that dominated AM radio in the late 60’s/early 70’s. It’s a song I never would have admitted liking back then. The band looks about as interesting as their name, so the video required plenty of gyrating dancing girls to maintain any visual interest. At first I thought that explained the singer’s goofy grin. Clearly he was expecting a cut from casting couch proceeds. But closer inspection reveals that the dancing girls were spliced in from elsewhere. Oh well, I guess one-hit wonders only cash in so far.