Tag Archives: Grammy’s

I Gotta Feelin’

Another day, another dingus. It’s a Monday and I am back at the cigar shack after 2 days off. Hard to say whether or not they went fast or slow since I can’t be objective about it. I last wrote on Saturday and it was announced that Whitney Houston is dead. She is still dead, it’s not an internet rumor.

The latest word is that she had some Xanax and some booze and maybe some other prescription medication, then took a bath where she may have fallen asleep, head going under the water as he legs rose against the wall. It was a shock but no surprise to some.

When I first started working in the music industry, one of the first projects going on was the Bodyguard soundtrack. Not the Whitney stuff mind you, but Curtis Stigers recording Nick Lowe’s (What So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding. I heard that over and over again. The studio received a platinum disc for their efforts.

A few years later as I was ending my ‘career’ in the music business working at Arista under the watchful gaze of Suzanne Savage and her flying coffee mugs. My job was to deliver a $100,000.00 check to Whitney’s people each time she was to go into the recording studio. It was quite a carrot on a stack.

So the news on Sunday was mainly all about Whitney with a little bit about massacres in Syria and the fact that Athens was burning. I went with Bill out to Wallington NJ so Bill could collect his pay from the bus company. It was only a few minutes spent in Wally World, and I took some pictures of Bill behind the wheel of his favorite bus.

Then it was a ride up South Main Street through Lodi, past Felician College and Immaculate Conception High School. It really is a part of Lodi that I don’t know too much about since I am from the northern part of Lodi, closer to Rochelle Park and Sadde Brook than I was to the rest of Lodi.

We took a turn on Route 46 and probably would have stopped off at Hank’s Franks if they were open but it was a Sunday and they were closed. I was surprised to see that the once great airplane manufacturing plant, Bendix was razed. Nothing left but bricks and dirt. A drive past the used car dealers and porno shops on Route 46 as we headed to the New Jersey Turnpike.

From there is was smooth sailing to Hoboken. Bill suggested going to Arthur’s for steaks but I figured it would be too cold and already I was envisioning myself in slippers and tracky bottoms not doing much of anything. Bill had places to go and I did not and I was fine with that. We did watch the Grammy’s together which I don’t recall ever doing before.

We were impressed by Bruno Mars, the little cutie with a great band, great moves and a good voice. Adele swept everything as expected. Macca was on twice, and Ringo was to be there as well but he has pneumonia. And the reunited Beach Boys with Brian looking the same and me not hating Mike Love for a few minutes. I guess they realized that if they wanted to make some money in a last hurrah there should be no funny business.

Bruce was pretty good opening up the show, but I do have to ask if it absolutely necessary to have 4 guitars on stage, I mean aren’t Nils and Steve enough besides Bruce? No offense but does Patti have to be there too? Maybe give her a tambourine or a triangle? I’m just sayin’…

my very own Ralph Kramden

2 – Spooky

One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer

It’s back to work for me and millions of other people today. It wasn’t so bad. Last night was a definite chill out time, came back from seeing Cloverfield, and I finished reading the days papers. Almost done with the latest New Yorker so I might be up to date next week when the new issue comes in. The tooth still acting up a bit, not haywire like it was Saturday night but I took precautions. Bill had a bottle of whiskey, Canadian Mist that has been on the shelf since we moved here, and I decided to numb out the tooth with a shot or two. It certainly did the trick, took the edge off my mouth.

I settled in for the night, watching the Grammy’s which is something I hadn’t done in years. Just because the music I generally listen to doesn’t make the cut. But being it was the 50th broadcast I thought something might be happening. Kanye West was amazing with his Daft Punk single, Stronger, was just really good, almost as good as Ricky Martin when he blew the roof off. Not that I’m a fan of Ricky Martin’s music, but he sure is easy on the eyes. He’s also the second musician that I had an erotic dream about. The first was Ruben Blades years and years ago. Kayne West also did a number about his mother. It was written before she passed away a few months ago but it was touching nonetheless.

The Wire came on at 9:00 and I switched over while recording the rest of the awards program. The Wire was once again, intense. Just waiting for it all to come down. Marlo should be getting his, but since this show is relatively true to life, Marlo might get away with it all. Omar, after jumping four or five flights to the ground wound up hiding in the same building in the janitor’s room with a busted ankle. And McNulty kept getting drunk while the reporter kept making up stories though the noose is tightening on his neck with each keystroke. After that hour long trip to the depths of Baltimore, I switched back to the Grammy’s.

I did catch earlier, The Time who were great, playing with Rhianna who sang Umbrella, her big hit single from last year. And Amy Winehouse was very good via satellite from London. I went to bed after watching Herbie Hancock win his Album of the Year, River: The Joni Letters which are his interpretations of Joni Mitchell’s songs. I guess. Fell fast asleep, thanks to the one Advil PM and slept quite soundly. I woke up around 6:30 which is a half hour later than I should. I was in the middle of a dream where I was being chased around a beer hall/refugee camp by none other than Siouxsie from Siouxsie and the Banshees. Normally I’d probably stop and chat but she was pissed off at me for some reason and every time I would close a door on her she would blow the door down with her singing. I woke up groggy and tried to get back to the dream after texting Linda the receptionist that I was going to be late.

Plus it was 10 degrees outside and I couldn’t deal with that right away. No more Siouxsie dream as I lay there trying to get back to the beer hall. I got out of bed fifteen minutes later and that’s when the day began for me. I told Bill about what was going on with my tooth and how I opened the bottle of Canadian Mist whiskey, all covered in greasy dust. Even through an online chat I knew something was wrong and there was. It turned out Bill was saving that bottle for a special occasion. I wondered what kind of special occasion would it take for someone who rarely drinks, his limit is usually one pint of Guinness, to open a bottle of whiskey?

I asked why the bottle was for such a special occasion and he said that some guy he was trying to date/get laid/whatever gave it to him at a Hope and Remembrance gathering and that’s when he wanted decided to save the Canadian Mist for a rainy day. He’s still upset and trying to forget it. There is still more than 2/3 left and I lit a candle, pouring wax over the top of it so he could reopen and break the new seal should he ever cross paths with the enabler of Hope and Remembrance.