September 28, 2024

 Howdy folks, and Happy Saturday. Sorry about the delay in posting. I guess it's because I don't have a lot of news to report; I'm just trying to ride the election out as it's made me more nervous than any election in my lifetime. I dread the thought of this narcissistic woman becoming president, but what's made my nervous tension worse is the growing realization that I've been targeted by predators for much of my adult life (in some cases for reasons known only to them), and what I have learned - just in the past week since I last wrote to you - has floored me. It's been hard enough dealing with the monumental 1989 issue for almost half my life, but now I know that I was targeted and abused by a predator as recently as 2009, when I was a housesitter in Reseda. After a while, a person like me - who has been repeatedly a target of predators - can feel very alone in the world. It's frightening to know that someone has fixated on you, and has known things about you that you yourself were not aware of. In my case, the predatory person was aware that I was (and, perhaps still am) susceptible to hypnosis. This person was (and I assume still is) skilled at inducing a hypnotic state, which is not always the "zombie state" depicted in popular culture. Depending on the level of trance induced, a hypnotized person can carry on a conversation with the predator, all the way down to being immobilized and barely able to speak, but the important thing is that a hypnotist can block your memory of what they've done. This happened to me while I was housesitting in 2009, and because the incident was witnessed by a third party, I have considered talking to a lawyer. Whatever I decide, my newfound knowledge of 2009 is going to change things. In the meantime, I am praying for the future of this country. Imagine me, of all people, rooting for Donald Trump. That's how serious the situation is. Please God, save us from Kamala Harris.

I have a Montgomery Clift movie for you: "From Here to Eternity", the Best Picture winner of 1954 (it won 8 Oscars overall). I need to quickly mention that Monty never won a Best Actor which is a total joke, especially when a hambone like Daniel Day Lewis won three. Anyway, his role in "Eternity" may be the one he is most known for. It's one of the greatest, most legendary films ever made and he's positively iconic in it. The top-billed Buht Lahncahstah is ostensibly the lead, and he is great too, but Monty is the centerpiece, it's his movie all the way. He plays "Private Robert E Lee Prewitt", a bugler who's been transferred at his own request to Schofield Army Base in Hawaii. He's also an Army boxing champ. The base Major knows this and wants him for the Schofield squad, so he (the Major) can look good if the team wins. He hopes to make General if that happens. When Monty makes it known that he doesn't box anymore because he blinded an opponent in the ring, the Major and his subordinate officers don't care. They want Monty on the team, no ifs ands or buts, and the more he refuses, the more they make his military life hell. "An Officer and a Gentleman" copied this motif decades later. While the persecution of Private Prewitt continues, Buht Lahncahstah is secrecty stealing the Major's wife (played by the great Deborah Kerr). Their make-out scene on the beach, in the rolling waves on the sand, is one of the most famous in all of cinema (even though it lasts mere seconds). Monty seeks refuge at a local dance club, tagging along with his pal "Maggio", the base cook, played by Frank Sinatra who deservedly won Best Supporting Actor. It is at this club that Monty meets "Lorene" (Donna Reed), a good-time gal from the Midwest who's wound up in Hawaii due to bad luck.

As for Burt Lancaster, his illicit relationship with Deborah Kerr is pure lust, or love/hate. Burt thinks Kerr is a tramp for sleeping with dozens of enlisted men, until she tearfully explains the reason for her infidelity. The psychological motivations for male versus female cheating are broached in a quick exchange of dialogue that is bold for 1953. I don't know if it is true that men cheat for biological reasons (lust, libido) and women only cheat for emotional reasons (abandonment, revenge, feeling let down) but I imagine the truth is somewhere in the middle. 

Back to Monty, he's a soldier, first and foremost. There's no way that the Major is gonna drum him out of the Army for not boxing. In a moment of doubt, he asks Donna Reed to marry him and go back to the States. Deborah Kerr also wants Burt to marry her. She says she'll divorce the Major to make it happen.

Into the mix is thrown a sadistic Sergeant of the Guard (the head of the Military Police), played by Ernest Borgnine. His character hates "Wops", and he singles out Ol' Blue Eyes for abuse. Frankie, rebelling, winds up as his prisoner, and I can't tell ya what happens after that without giving spoilers. Some fans say that "From Here to Eternity" is a soap opera, and I agree that it is, in format. But it's infused with deep meaning, especially as set against the coming of Pearl Harbor. Monty goes all out in his portrayal of a dedicated soldier. Though he has been arguably greater, in the dramatic sense, in other roles (like "Judgement at Nuremberg" or "A Place in the Sun"), nowhere has he had more screen presence or shown more force in a role. His showdown with Ernest Borgnine is brief but climactic. "Eternity" is a double-troubled romance featuring individualist personalities conscripted into World War 2. Let's end the war in Ukraine and prevent WW3. Vote Trump, I beeseech you, especially if you live in a battleground state. 

Hey, what do you guys think of the ICE statistics that were released yeterday? There are over 13,000 convicted murderers running loose in this country illegally, not to mention 15,000 convicted rapists. That's why they have no crime in Venezuela or El Salvador anymore - they shipped 'em all up here. How anyone can vote for Kamala Harris is a mystery...

I listen to the music of Richard Wagner every night. I almost need to pull myself away so I can listen to other classical favorites, but I can't and at the moment don't want to. Emotionally speaking, he may have been the greatest composer who ever lived, and when you hear the 9 minute opening to his final opera "Parsifal", you'll understand why. It may be the most profoundly "human" piece of music ever written.

What it means to be human. That's what we all wonder, and yet we have allowed society to degrade so that we can avoid that wonder and the simple magic of crows, squirrels and bunnies, to be replaced by smash n' grab robberies, re-inflamed "racial" issues that were settled in the 1960s, high-powered cars that allow immature drivers to rule over the roadways, and not enough police to stop them. We need a restoration of sanity, law and order and peace, and an end to chaos and mayhem.

Next time I will have a happier blog. It's been a tough week. Stay tuned.

September 20, 2024

 Howdy folks. Well, there's a ton of news as always these days, but I want to mention the arrest of P. Diddy, aka Sean Combs, which has gone somewhat under the radar compared to election reporting, the second Trump assassination attempt, and the Springfield situation. Diddy, in case you haven't heard, was arrested for sex trafficking among other things, and the details that have emerged about his crimes include his lifestyle and the parties he was famous for throwing at one of his mansions. They were known as "freak offs", and were exactly the kind of parties I have described here at the blog since 1998, when I first began writing about Hollywood's "Porno People", as I've termed them. I was the victim of such a group. As an aside, Diddy made videotapes of the orgies at his parties (just like the people who victimized me), in order to have a blackmail hold over the attendees. He also threatened anyone who wanted to leave. Getting back to my story, I - as most blog readers well know - was kidnapped by my next-door neighbor, a CSUN cinema professor, who was one of the leaders of a similarly styled sex-and-pornography ring that operated in my Northridge neighborhood and had connections to the so-called "music" industry. I was kidnapped and tortured by this psychopath because I unwittingly stumbled upon his sex group, which included many people I knew at that time, some of whom were also involved in cocaine trafficking. CSUN still employs the professor who kidnapped me, a scandal that - if uncovered - would make Penn State's coverup of Jerry Sandusky look small potatoes in comparison.

The Porno People are nothing less than pure evil. I could name individuals from families right here in Northridge who have been part of these occult organisations. These are the people I mean when I say "God's gonna get 'em" because Lord Knows law enforcement won't or can't because Hollywood owns the police and everyone knows it. They also own the Democratic Party. Jesse Watters of Fox News says that the Diddy arrest could take down the entire "music" industry, but I'll only believe that when I see it because they could've arrested Diddy 25 years ago. That's how long I've been writing about these people, and I will eventually tell everything I know when I write my five part book series "What Happened in Northridge", the story of 1989.

One day, The Porno People (who should really be called The Violent People) are gonna go down, and they're gonna go down so hard and so far into the void that they'll wish they were in Hell because Hell would be a vacation compared to what's in store for them. Sorry to go on a tirade, but as you can tell, I despise these people with a black passion. God's gonna get 'em, you can count on it.

Well anyhow, "Ya bettah thank a union membah"!...(deep breath)...what else have we got? A brief note on Ryan Routh....Manchurian Candidate much? Dig into this guy's background and tell me he's not a CIA asset.

I have a movie for you: "The Pajama Game"(1957), a musical I remember from early childhood. Though the film was released before I was born, it began as a Broadway play and they put on a version of it when my sister was a drama student in junior high school. The storyline involves a labor dispute between workers and the owner of a pajama factory, but that is only the context that bookends the romance between John Raitt (Bonnie's Dad), who plays the factory superintendent and Doris Day, the workers' union leader ("Ya bettah thank a union membah!") I love musicals as you know, and especially those from the 1950s with major league production numbers and art direction, and "Pajama Game" excels in this category. It may be the most "purely musical" musical we've reviewed because, rather than interspersing songs between lengthy blocks of story, this movie features one song after another, many in tightly choreographed, lavishly produced dance sequences. Of course, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" took the meaning of "musical" to it's appreciable limit by having all the dialogue sung. If you've never seen it, check it out. It's one of my favorite movies. But back to "Pajama Game", the plot, such as it is, involves a labor dispute over a 7 1/2 cent pay raise. Showcased in a supporting role is a very talented actress and dancer named Carol Chaney, whose life was cut short by diabetes. I guarantee you'll be looking her up on IMDB when the movie is over, and you'll recognize Eddie Foy Jr., the long-time jack-of-all-trades performer who began life as one of The Seven Little Foys vaudeville act. The film was shot on the Warner Brothers backlot (which I had the pleasure of touring last April) and inside it's legendary soundstages. The main floor of the pajama factory was built inside one of these stages and looks incredible onscreen. I haven't worn pajamas in years but the movie made me want to rush out and buy some. "The Pajama Game" is a 10/10 classic, and once again the IMDB reviewers agree. Give it a view and get hooked on classic musicals.

To get an early start on Halloween season, I also watched "Two On a Gillotine"(1965), another film from my childhood (the release date was January 13, 1965, one month before I started kindergarten). I remember my parents went to see it, and I was interested in the word "guillotine", and why it was pronounced "ghee-o-teen". Mom and Dad told me it was a scary movie (Dad may have said "Ghee-o-teens" chopped people's heads off), and when they came back, they said it was really good. Having now seen it myself, I agree, but I think it was too long. It's more a suspense film than a horror movie, with Dean Jones and Connie Stevens giving it a tinge of romance. She's the daughter of a recently deceased illusionist (Caesar Romero) who has left her his 300K fortune (when 300K was a fortune). The movie opens with an onstage illusion, then cuts to Romero's funeral. The reading of his will takes place on the stage of the Hollywood Bowl in a classic use of mid-60s location. Jones, a huge star for Disney in the 60s and 70s, plays a reporter trying to get the scoop on Stevens, Romero's daughter, who is an exact double for her mother, who mysteriously disappeared decades earlier. The will states that Stevens must reside in her father's mansion for a week to receive her inheritance. Romero claimed that he would return from the dead as his final act of magic. Dean Jones is on hand to debunk this, but winds up falling in love with Connie Stevens. 

The movie was directed by William Conrad of "Cannon" fame. He makes a Hitchcockian appearance mid-film, and keep an eye out for a young Richard Kiel in the opening funeral scene. The running time is 107 minutes. 15 to 20 could've been cut, but then you'd miss some great shots of Pacific Ocean Park, aka P.O.P., the legendary So Cal amusement park that was built on the Santa Monica Pier to compete with Disneyland but became synonymous with hippies and bikers by the end of the 1960s. The best scenes in the movie feature Virginia Gregg as Connie Stevens' former nanny. The Great Parley Baer plays Caesar Romero's manager. The last twenty minutes redeem the horror premise. Conrad directs and photographs in black and white in the style of William Castle. "Two on a Guillotine" is definitely worth a view for that unique, centered, mid-60s ethos that existed for a brief time between the sunshine of JFK's Camelot and the wild fluctuations of the counterculture era. The 60s were a trip, because each year had a style of its own... 

I am sorry to report that Cupid's has a green fence around it, which means it will soon be demolished in one of the great tragedies of modern history. I can't imagine what they will put up in it's place, but I'll guarantee it will go out of business because the location was only meant for a small hot dog stand - it's in between a regular Northridge house and a small corner strip mall that does minimal business. The Cupid's lot is tiny; thank God they can't erect one of those postage-stamp-footprint (but tall) apartment complexes that have become ubiquitous around Los Angeles, but they would if they could, because developers are in their own way as evil as the porno people. Anyway, I am sorry the Cupid's owners sold the property, but I understand they were getting older and had no one to take over the business.

And that's about all I know on this end-of-Summer day. I'm blowing my mind on 2009 and I'm working very hard on my next book. Stay tuned. 

September 13, 2024 (Friday the 13th)

 Howdy folks, and happy Friday the 13th. Well, the debate is old news by now, so I can't add much to what's already been said, but even though the corporate media pundits have claimed that Kamala crushed Trump, it doesn't seem to have helped her campaign. She's still leading nationally (in the popular vote) by 1.5%, the same number as pre-debate, while Trump has taken back the electoral college prognostication (287 to 251), which had Kamala ahead before the debate. Therefore, she's actually doing worse, electorally, than she was before the debate in which she supposedly tore Trump a new one.

And that's because people aren't as stupid as the media thinks they are. I won't go on a tirade because I know she's your gal, but c'mon. Even if you loved her schtick on the debate stage (and I agree that she's a great comedian), you still have to admit that she didn't answer any policy questions except with vague platitudes, and when you go into the grocery store, eggs are still 8 bucks a dozen. Bread is 6 bucks. A regular size bag of chips is 7 bucks. They give out inflation percentage numbers like 9%, 20%, but in Los Angeles, many products have doubled in price, like milk, which went from 1.99 a gallon to 3.99 a gallon. That's 100% inflation. Egg prices have tripled and quadrupled. And it's not just the inflation (though that is reason enough not to vote for her), it's also the radical far-left wokeness that sides with criminals over law abiding citizens, that allows the border to be overrun, and that promotes the kind of cultural and transhumanist insanity we are seeing. If I had kids, I doubt I'd let them attend a public school, not with the curriculum they're teaching.

I hope she not only loses but loses big, maybe even by 75 to 100 electoral votes, so that the Democrats will never try this again. Don't run someone who's this far left. I mean, she makes Bernie Sanders look like a centrist. 

Well anyhow. I don't have a Montgomery Clift movie for you (still waiting for the dvd to arrive at the Libe). Instead, I've been watching episodes of "Millennium", that other series from Chris Carter with an even darker theme than "The X-Files". I own the complete series on dvd and run through it about every five years or so. I've also been watching eps of a show called "Promised Land", which aired for three years (1996-99) during the time I lived with my Mom. In fact, it was Mom who introduced me to the show, about a family who has lost their home in an economic downturn and is travelling the country in a trailer. They drive wherever the road takes them, finding jobs in small towns, and they help others and are helped along the way. It's kind of a Christian, middle-class family version of "Easy Rider" without the drugs. Like Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda, the family is "discovering America". The mother is an ex-hippie and rock groupie (there's even an episode starring Joe Walsh), while Dad (Gerald McRaney of "Simon and Simon" fame) is a Vietnam vet who lost his job when the factory closed down. Every episode has a humanitarian problem to solve. The show was a spin-off of "Touched by an Angel", which was my Mom's favorite show at that time. I enjoyed "Touched" also, but liked "Promised Land" enough to buy the complete series on dvd, and in watching it now, it not only reminds me of the years I lived with Mom, but the late 1990s in general, just before the Internet took over and when only a fraction of the population had cell phones. I think it was a better and friendlier time, and there's no reason we can't return to it. We really don't need to live this current lifestyle. We got along fine in a world without gadgets.

I've been listening to David Gilmour's excellent new album, "Luck and Strange", which - besides his singular voice and soaring, trademark guitar solos - features a poignant song called "Between Two Points", sung by his daughter Romany, whose own angelic voice you may remember from pandemic times, when the Gilmours were making podcasts from their barn as "The Von Trapped Family". Their show was hosted by son Charlie Gilmour, and featured the whole family (including the dog) on a red velvet-draped set. David Gilmour would often sing a song and was usually accompanied by Romany on harp and vocals, and she got a lot of positive comments, some of which (including my own) suggested that David record with her. Now, he's not only done that, but he's bringing Romany along on his upcoming tour, which promises to be fantastic. I'll be going to at least one show and hopefully more. It's amazing to see artists nearing 80, like Gilmour and Jon Anderson, who are still at the top of their game.

In books, I've just finished Paul Tremblay's "Horror Movie", which I highly recommend. Talk about an original writer. Tremblay gets inside your head and messes around in there. Everything is internalised in his books, he talks to himself and second-guesses his characters. Give him a read for something entirely different, and while I'm at it I might as well make another plug for my own recently released book "Pearl the Wonder Girl", available now at Lulu.com. Here's the copy and paste link:

 www.lulu.com/search?sortBy=RELEVANCE&page=1&q=pearl+the+wonder+girl&pageSize=10&adult_audience_rating=00

Or just go to Lulu.com and enter "Pearl the Wonder Girl" onto the search window. You'll be glad you did.

Well, that's about all for today. Sorry for the brevity. Next time we'll have a Monty Movie and we'll soon be starting Halloween Season which will mean a massive, in-depth search for unseen horror flicks. If it's anywhere near as successful as last year's effort, it'll be a doozy. I'm also working hard on my next book (due out hopefully by my birthday), which began life as a caregiving story but has bloomed into quite a bit more. For example: have you ever wondered if your neighbors might be secret agents?

What part of "Karen on a mattress in the living room" do you not understand? 

September 6, 2024

 Howdy folks, and Happy Friday. Well, I didn't go to the Rainbow Backyard Bash, and I'm glad I stayed home because it was exactly as I predicted: a jam-packed sardine can on hot asphalt. I just don't do that anymore. My rule of thumb is The Crumminess Potential. I have a checklist, including the type of music, number of bands, general admission vs. reserved seating, outdoor vs. indoor, ticket price, venue and driving distance, and mostly, how much do I want or need to see the band or artist? I weigh all the factors, and if the Potential for Crumminess outweighs the Potential for an Awesome Experience, I stay home. Grimsley is the exact opposite. He'll drive anywhere and jump through any hoops for just about anyone, even tribute bands. But I have too many other things I'd rather do. I've been to over 800 concerts, seen every band I ever wanted to see (with a few exceptions), and unless a concert is easy for me to attend, I have no desire to hassle it. The Rainbow Bash was for diehard metalheads, which I am not (and never really was). I like shows in theaters, or small clubs, even arenas, anywhere with reserved seats. Anyhow, I didn't go. Grim did. He had a hard time finding parking, and then had to deal with the large crowd. His review? "It was pretty boring." That's because KK's Priest don't have many good songs. That's really all you need to know.

It was 114 degrees yesterday, a genuine rip-roaster, and it's 112 today. Remember that day about three or four years ago when it was 128? Cue Chris Farley: "That was...(shrug) awesome". 

I have a Montgomery Clift movie for you: "The Search"(1948), his second film (and one of his best, though they all were). Interestingly, it is also the third Monty movie (out of only 17 he made) that is set in postwar Germany (the other two being "Judgement at Nuremberg" and "The Big Lift"). Here, we are in the American Zone in utterly destroyed Berlin (it looks like a nuclear wasteland, truly bombed into the Stone Age), where - as the movie opens - refugee children are being brought by train to displaced person camps from all over the formerly Nazi occupied territories. Many of them are terrifed, even of their Allied rescuers. To them, anyone in a uniform is a threat. They're also frightened of ambulances, since that is what the Germans used, at first, as mobile gas chambers. Most of the children are orphans whose parents were killed in concentration camps.

We are soon brought to focus on one little boy, the blonde and frail 11 year old "Karel" (Ivan Jandl) from Czechoslovakia who's so terrorized by his wartime experience that he's gone mute. When the kids in his rescue ambulance break out and escape, he runs into the hills with another boy, who drowns in a river. Karel hides in the ruined buildings on the outskirts of town, becoming feral, and it is there that he comes into contact with Monty, a US security officer. Monty sees Karel peeking down at him from the hillside and offers him a sandwich, then has to chase him when he runs away. Soon, after Karel is subdued (succumbing to hunger), it becomes a Buddy Movie. Because Karel won't speak, Monty doesn't know a thing about him, no name, no country, nothing. There's only the tattoo number on his arm, with an "A" for Auschwitz, but the fair-haired Karel doesn't appear to be Jewish. Monty begins a clerical search for the boy's parents or relatives (hence the title), and in a subplot, it turns out that another little boy (who is Jewish) has appropriated Karel's name, assuming he drowned after the ambulance escape. Monty eventually discovers that Karel is from a family of Czech musicians, showing that artists and intellectuals were also persecuted.

But he still can't get Karel to speak, and that's a problem, so Monty starts from scratch, trying to get the kid to learn to say "yes" and "no". Then he shows him pictures of various animals and objects, to teach him phonetic English, and because Karel now has food and shelter, he trusts Monty and becomes an excellent student. Then one day he has memory of his mother, from whom he was separated by the Nazis years earlier. He asks Monty what a "mother" is, and the movie threatens to turn tragic. "The Search" now moves in both directions, because Karel's mama (Jarmila Novotna) is looking for him, too. After surviving Mauthausen, she starts canvasing childrens' camps all over the Allied Zones, and when she can't locate Karel, she pauses her search to care for the orphaned camp kids.

Meanwhile Monty, not knowing Karel's name, had dubbed him "Jim" and plans to adopt him and take him to America. He assumes Karel's mother is dead, which leads to the film's climax. "The Search" is top notch early Clift, who plays Straight Man to the stone-faced but angelic Karel, who comes to love Monty as a father figure but ultimately wants to find his mother. Once again, the IMDB ratings and reviews are super high, just like in "Wild River". Ivan Jandl won a children's Oscar for his performance (when they still gave those out). Monty was a natural at easygoing comedy, and the early and lengthy bonding scenes between his character and Karel are some of the best of his career. He's playing off a scene-stealing urchin and he knows it. According to IMDB, before it was released on dvd, "The Search"was the most requested film on TCM. It's an absolute classic, with historic post-war footage of a time when the world could have ended but was rebuilt instead. 

This was the 13th Monty Movie in our ongoing retrospective. We have four films left. Coming up will be "From Here to Eternity" (hopefully next blog), then we may have to purchase "Freud" and "The Defector" on dvd because those are not available at the library. And finally, we'll search high and low for a copy of "Raintree County", which doesn't seem to be available except for an Italian version which is unfortunately in PAL format. But I'll keep looking 'cause we've gotta see it.      

Folks, I must say that the recently discovered 2009 Housesitting Incident (as I will call it) is freaking me out, because the person who hypnotized me actually did it more than once, and it freaks me out because I am learning that I am (or have been) suceptible to hypnosis, and that this person was aware of that fact, and used that awareness to plan to take advantage of me, in advance, likely before I was hired as the housesitter.

Would you like to know something scary? A person suceptible to hypnosis can be immobilized by a person skilled in hypnotic technique. Yes indeed. A skilled hypnotist can convince you that you can't move your arm, or can't move your legs, or that you can't move a muscle. During the Main Incident, I was at one point in a standing position but entirely immobilzed, so much that I could barely speak. I remember that it took extreme concentration just to croak a few words out, and I told the person - in front of a witness - "i...can...see...everything...you...are...doing...to...me..." I'm using lower case letters to emphasize how weak my voice was, but I wanted the person, and the witness, to know that I was aware of everything that was going on, despite the fact that I couldn't move.

Prior to the Incident, which took place in December 2009, this person had hypnotized me at least once (and likely more than once) in a sort of "trial run" before they eventually advanced to their main objective. On those early occasions, which took place in the house months prior to the main event, the person may have tested my suceptibility by, at first, merely "freezing" my arm, or maybe stopping me in my tracks with a keyword. That's how it is done, with keywords (hypnotic suggestion), and talismans (like a coin, perhaps a silver dollar). This person also used a penlight and a mirror.

One question I have is this: how and where did the person learn hypnosis? I mean, it's not like it's an everyday skill. But more than that, and way more scary and crazy, is how did the person know I was susceptible in the first place? The only way that is possible is if the person knew the details of what happened to me in 1989, when I was hypnotised and put in trance states on multiple occasions by several different people and one in particular whose name you'd recognize. Hypnotic states can also be achieved with surreptitiously administered drugs (i.e to "roofie" someone), and/or with certain radio wave frequencies.

What the person in question did, in 2009, was sinister because they had control over me. The ultimate reason they did what they did is kind of pathetic (and there's no doubt the person is mentally ill) but that doesn't excuse it, because it was nevertheless criminal and profoundly wrong. Slipping a drug into someone's soft drink, and then whipping out your penlight and mirror? And planning it all in advance? Yeah, that's sicko stuff. Boy, could I tell a story to a prosecutor (calling Kamala Harris...not!). 

Well anyhow, I somehow keep going, even if it feels like my life has been some kind of occult nightmare. Maybe God is using me to root out evil people. I hope to find answers one day.

August 30, 2024

 Howdy folks. Well, what did you think of the Harris interview? I won't go on a tirade, so don't worry, and I know that nothing I say will change your unwavering support for her, but I mean....c'mon. Even you guys have to admit that she didn't do very well. Just on body laguage alone, she didn't look confident. She sat slumped, and it showed compared to Walz, who sat next to her much taller, straight backed, shoulders squared. She also kept her eyes down as she spoke, only looking up at Dana Bash toward the end of each question. Guys, this lady just isn't presidential. I don't think she even wants the job, to be honest. There was nervous tension in her voice. Compare her to Hillary Clinton, who can talk policy like an encyclopedia on any subject, with total confidence. I know you guys don't like Hillary because it's not cool to like the Clintons, but I mean, c'mon.......Kamala Harris? She couldn't even get past Dana Bash. I'm not saying she crashed and burned, but she sure looked burnt out. She looked and sounded nervous and scared.  And then there's the lying and flip-flopping, and the worst economy of our lifetimes. I know you're gonna vote for her anyway, so good luck. You're probably gonna win. That's the power of the media. Well anyhow...

Question: do you think Walz could be a CIA agent? I'm serious. I mean, what's with the 30 trips to China? Not 5, or even 10...Thirty. He first went in 1989 (love that year) when he was 25 years old, and he even married his wife on June 4 (the anniversary of Tiannamen Square) so it would be "a memorable date" (his words). Thirty trips to China. Who even goes, say, to Paris thirty times? Who can afford to? But China? I think he's full-on CIA, playing The Big Dumb White Guy, and he's acting as a handler for Harris (who even the top Dems know can't be trusted to speak on her own). This is a guy who "let" Minneapolis burn down. Could there have been a backwards strategy to that? If you are shaking your head, thinking "how ridiculous", then you don't know Ten Level Chess. That's what the CIA plays. 

I don't have any concerts to report this week, though I might be going to see KK's Priest at the Rainbow Bar and Grill's Backyard Bash on Sunday. I say "might be", because - though the show is ostensibly "free" (you have to purchase a two-drink minimum wristband) - there's still a good chance it will be a fiasco. The tickets say "admission is not guaranteed". This is because it will be a first come/first serve deal, meaning that fans will have to wait in a long line, and when the Rainbow's parking lot is full, that line will be halted unless people inside leave. So, to see KK's Priest, you'd have to theoretically get there by 1pm, to get a good place in line (i.e. to guarantee your admission to the event), and then you'd have to stand there all day, in the midst of a jam-packed crowd of sweaty Nikki Sixx lookalikes, getting your ears blasted by the four or five opening Hair Metal bands, until KK comes on at approximately 8 pm. That's seven hours of standing in a hot parking lot, and it's gonna be 95 degrees. Oh, and you'd also have to stand there through Accept, who come on just before KK. Balls to the wall, anyone? Maybe not. The only other option is to get there at 7 or 7:30, hoping it's not packed to capacity, because if it is you won't get in.

I'd love to see KK Downing, who I last saw with Judas Priest in 2011, but I'm not sure it's worth it to chance driving down there, arriving just before he comes on, only to be turned away because the Rainbow parking lot is already full. There's no way I'm gonna arrive at 1pm and stand there til 8. Now, he's also playing at The Whisky the night before (Saturday August 31), but tickets are 70 bucks. I won't pay that much for a club show, sorry. The catch-22, for me, is that I told Grimsley I would drive to see KK, since he drove us to Jon Anderson and Sammy Hagar. So if  he wants to go, I'll keep my promise, but only under the above-stated terms. I'll agree to drive us down there in the evening on the slim chance we'll get in. I'm sorta hoping he won't want to go...

I watched "Lost Highway" for the 3rd or 4th time (maybe 5th, I've lost count), and I finally gave up on trying to decipher it. In some ways, it's David Lynch's most enticing film because it does tease a storyline, right up to the point of the jailhouse switcheroo. Before that, you have a fairly straightforward plot for a Lynch film: Jazz sax player Bill Pullman lives in Lynch's concrete mansion with his sultry girlfriend Patricia Arquette. As the movie opens, he gets a message, through his security intercom, that "Dick Laurant" is dead. This will turn out to be a red herring, because there is no Dick Laurant in the movie. It's Lynch trolling us again, with an incident from his life (google it). The couple then receive ominous videotapes left on their doorstep, filmed inside their house by an intruder, in which more is revealed each time. Finally, Arquette is shown in a porno movie. The next thing we know, Pullman is facing the electric chair for her murder.

But then one day he's replaced in his cell by Balthazar Getty, an auto mechanic who is screwing the girlfriend of a Hollywood mobster by the name of Mr. Eddy. And the girlfriend is Patricia Arquette.

The best role in the movie is Robert Blake as the devil. You'll remember the creepy scene where he introduces himself to Bill Pullman at a party. Too much time is spent on the porno aspect, and there is one scene thrown in for commentary on L.A. tailgaiting, a typical Lynchian mix of violence and comedy.

But even though he spends way too much time on the movie's second half and the relentless gauzy porno shots, it's still one of DL's most hypnotic movies, and the first few times you see it, you'll be compelled to make sense of the plot. You'll swear there's a mystery to be solved...but it will turn out, after several more viewings, that you are only half-correct. There's a mystery, all right, but there's nothing to be solved, because the meaning of the mystery is up to you. Lynch has said in interviews that it represents a dream. It's super cool that he used his own house as a main location. The photography and acting are top notch. Even Gary Busey gets a turn. It's a great film; it just doesn't mean anything. 

Question: Do you guys remember the Superball, by Whammo? They were the company that made the classic Frisbee, and in 1965, they also had a handball-sized black rubber ball called the Superball, and you could literally bounce it over the roof of your house so it would land in your backyard. I had a Superball when I was six, and not only did I bounce it over our roof, but I took it inside to the hallway that connected our living room to the bedrooms, and I threw it as hard as I could against one wall, horizontally, so that it would rebound quickly and with force against the opposite wall, and because hallways are narrow, this created a "drumming" effect between the two walls. The Superball had so much power that it went whambambambambambambam between the two walls of the hallway before finally dropping to the floor. A variation on this was to close the hallway door and do it with the lights out in pitch darkness. You had to be careful that the Superball didn't bounce back and hit you. Kids had a blast with the Superball, but then a year or two later, Whammo diluted the formula, and Superballs thereafter were less powerful. Maybe too many parents complained of broken windums or holes in the hallway walls. I imagine there might also have been kids with missing or broken teeth from bouncing a Superball that came up and hit them in the mouth. It was made of Vulcanized rubber, and had a special, compressed core. I was reminded of the Superball when thinking of another awesome toy from the early 1960s. Remember those plastic rockets that you filled with water and pumped full of air to cause pressure, then you launched them - like the Superball - over the roof of your house and into your backyard? Man, we had the coolest toys back then... 

Finally, you might remember that at the end of the last blog I mentioned 2009. That's your cue to ask: "Now, what could've happened that year, Ad?" Are you skeptical? I mean, after all, it was 20 years removed from 1989. Well, you may recall that I was housesitting in 2009, at a home in Reseda. And it has recently been brought to my attention that Something Happened to Me in That House, something bizarre and terrifying. I've always known about the terrifying part, but the Bizarre Part has been new to me. That's your cue to ask, "How could it be new, Ad? Is this another case where you didn't remember something?"

Yeppers.

Folks, I got Hyp! no-Tized! in that house. I could tell you what happened to me after I was hypnotized, and I could even reveal who hypnotized me, but you'll have to wait for my next book. This is a true story, 100% fact, I even have witnesses, and if they would cooperate I could prove it. 15 years have passed, so the person responsible would not likely go to prison, but they should have because he or she didn't merely hypnotise me but did it against my will, after drugging me first, and then he or she proceeded to do "other things" to me, figuring that I'd never remember it due to the Roofie they slipped me and to post-hypnotic suggestion. 

Good grief, Charlie Brown. I'm beginning to wonder if I've just been a punching bag or a toy for other people all my life. It's for certain that I'm susceptible to hypnosis, and that certain people have known that. But I'm still glad I'm me and not those other people, because bad stuff is coming for bad people. Not from me, of course, but from God. God is gonna get 'em. You wouldn't want to be one of them, trust me. And you definitely wouldn't want to be one of the bad guys from 1989.

Peace and love to everyone else, though. Stay tuned.

August 23, 2024

 Howdy folks. Well, did you watch RFK's speech? He knocked The Truth out of the freakin' park, and I pray that it will generate enough coverage (or at least online discussion) to derail the momentum of Kamala Harris, whose speech last night was vapid and phony in comparison. The whole DNC was a joke, and I especially enjoyed the mega-rich and sanctimonious Michelle Obama lecturing America about "taking more than you need." Meanwhile, she and Barack own four multi-million dollar mansions and she charges 750K per appearance. Man, these people are awful, and Harris is in love with herself. Go Trump. If nothing else, at least he isn't phony, no matter how big an a-hole he's been in the past. And Robert F. Kennedy Jr. comes from the most distinguished family in modern American politics. As wealthy and controlling as they have become, the Obamas couldn't carry the Kennedys' jockstraps. Does anyone remember John F Kennedy? If you do, and if you think Kamala Harris is a viable candidate for the most powerful office in the world, then shame on you. You have lost your way.    

And that's enough of politics. Every time I get depressed by the possibility of a Harris presidency, I watch the Greta Thunberg "How Dare You!" clip. It always cheers me up, lol.

I'll tell ya what cheers me up: rock and roll, and last Monday (August 19), Grim and I went to The Forum in Inglewood to see Sammy Hagar's Van Halen Tribute, which is billed as the Best of All Worlds Tour. Grim once again drove. We left at 5:30pm and took the 405 south, encountering the usual rush hour traffic when we hit Culver City. Still, we were parked just off Manchester (on Spruce Street) by 6:30. Free parking once again. I confess that I was hoping to see Loverboy, the opening act who were coming on at 7, because I like three of their songs, but our tickets were on Grim's phone (I only have a flip phone) and he didn't want to see them. If I had been the "me" of my 20s, I wouldn't have wanted to see Loverboy, either. In fact, I'd have cringed at the prospect because I hated them back then. My 25-year-old self would've chewed my 64-year-old self out: "Loverboy?! What are you thinking?!" Why did I want to see them now? Because I am nostalgic for the 1980s. Man, what a great decade. 

Grim bought a White Claw from a parking lot salesman, and then found an unopened can of same in a trash can, which he gave to me. We drank and talked to two long-time VH fans before going inside. Our seats were in the loge, halfway back, top row. Not bad at all.

We love to talk about Time here at the blog, how elastic it is, and non-linear. How it seems to move fast and slow simultaneously. Another thing time can do is change your perceptions and/or soften your opinions. I used to "hate" Loverboy, and now I can admit I like three of their songs. Ditto Journey (and a few other bands). And I notoriously "hated" the Van Hagar version of Van Halen for a long time, because it seemed like "jock rock" to me back then. I loved Sammy Hagar when he was in Montrose, but when he went solo and became The Red Rocker....well, he started to suck, and by the time "I Can't Drive 55" came out, he was in the same league as Ted Nugent (another guy who started out good and became a cartoon). Also, regarding Van Halen, I was loyal to David Lee Roth (who eventually became a bigger cartoon than Sammy). Mostly, though, I just thought that the VH sound had gone soft when Hagar joined. Of course, I was only hearing the songs that were being played on the radio, hits like "Dreams" and "Love Walks In". My late-20s self thought: "This ain't real Van Halen! Every song sounds like 'Jump.' "

But - long story short - as the Van Halen saga dragged on through the years, and I continued to hear the Sammy songs on the radio, I started to appreciate the melodies, Ed's guitar work, and yes, even Sammy's vocals. "Dreams" is now one of my favorite Van Hagar songs. Ditto "Love Walks In". And the heavier stuff like "Poundcake" and "The Seventh Seal" is straight-up killer. To sum up, while the original DLR version of Van Halen will always be my favorite (and one of my favorite bands, period), I have come to like the Van Hagar version also, because - truthfully - they made a lot of great music with Sammy. Great enough that when he announced this tour, I knew I had to go, especially with Michael Anthony on bass. I realized I hadn't seen him since 1984, on the VH tour for the "1984" album, the last time the original band was intact. I hadn't seen Michael Anthony in 40 years, so yeah, I knew I had to be there.

But I didn't expect the concert to be as great it was, so loud and hard-rocking. I mean, it was flat-out awesome, like an arena show from the 1980s. The band was on fire: Joe Satriani did an admirable job of playing Eddie's songs, with an approximation of the EVH tone, in a general version of Ed's style, but without trying to copy him, which no one can do. Instead, Joe played Ed through his own filter. I thought he nailed it (and of course, he's Joe Freakin' Satriani). Michael Anthony was his rock-solid self. He looked great for 70, he sang lead on "Aint Talkin' Bout Love", and even broke out his famous Jack Daniels bass. He was locked into the pocket with drummer Jason Bonham, who drove the whole thing like an 18 wheel semi. The sound was monstrous, like a harmonious buzzsaw. I don't know where Sammy gets his energy, but it's amazing for a man who will be 77 in a month. It must be his Cabo lifestyle and the Mas Tequila. He drank onstage, and even passed out cups of the golden nectar to fans in the front row. There wasn't an empty seat in the arena, and the crowd stood for most of the show, which lasted 2 hours 10 minutes. One thing I noticed: there were no loud conversations among fans, at least in my vicinity. As any concertgoer knows, this is an obnoxious modern occurance at many (if not most) shows nowdays: loud fans talking over the music. Maybe it was too loud for people to talk, or maybe the VH fans are too devoted. Whatever the reason, it was a welcome respite. The fans were 100% focused on the show. Sammy remarked how great it was to play indoors, noting that most of the dates on this tour were at outdoor amphitheaters.

I really hope they extend the tour and do a second leg. For now, check out some of the Youtube videos from the various tour stops, and read the reviews from fans. And if they play again, do not miss 'em.

I have a Montgomery Clift movie for you: "Wild River"(1960), in which Monty plays an official from the Tennessee Valley Authority who is tasked with moving an old woman off of her ancestral farm before it is sunk underwater by a new hydroelectric dam. The movie begins with an actual newsreel clip from 1933 that shows the Tennessee River raging during a flood. Homes are swept away, and a distraught man speaks on camera of how he lost several family members to the river. We then cut to the opening scene, by which time FDR has created the TVA, which will serve not only to dam up and control the river and its tributaries, but will bring electricity to impoverished people living along its banks in several states. If I am not mistaken, the TVA was one of the largest public works projects in US history. It was of course part of The New Deal, but not everyone liked it. This is evidenced in an early scene when Monty meets Jo Van Fleet, the elderly matriarch of the Garth farm, which is located on a small island in the middle of the river. She does not see electricity as progress and lives by the laws of nature. She employs a group of Negro workers, who - by her words and tone of voice - she treats like chattel, and yet it is clear she loves them and they her, especially her assistant Sam, who stands by her to the bitter end. She has "taken care" of the Negroes for all these years. Sam loves her and vice versa. What they share is a sense of family and a love of home. That's what this movie is about, the question of "What is progress, and how does it affect that which existed before it?" How does "progress" (i.e radical change) affect people who were happy with the status quo?

In this case, there is the disastrous, killing river, that requires damming up to protect the lives and livelihoods of its habitants. Heck, the Army Corps of Engineers drained the much smaller Los Angeles River in 1938 for that same reason, because of flooding in the San Fernando Valley. So you can see the government's reasoning from a safety standpoint alone. But "Mrs. Garth" (Van Fleet) is from another time, post-Civil War, before telephones and electricty in houses. We even see Monty flying over in a small plane. It is very easy to forget (or not even know) that modern technology did not exist as recently as 175 years ago, and just 100 years ago, only half the homes in the US had electricity. Monty's task is unenviable, kicking this poor old, stubborn soul off the only home she has ever known, on what she considers God's land, not the government's.  

Jo Van Fleet may not be a familiar name to most movie fans, but she was a phenomenal actress who turned in two of the greatest performances you will ever see: in addition to her heartbreaking but dignified role as "Mrs. Garth", she also played James Dean's slatternly, abused mother in "East of Eden". Watch them both and be in awe. Lee Remick, also somewhat forgotten, was a great actress who plays the widowed granddaughter of "Mrs. Garth". Desperate for escape from what she considers a stunted life, she falls in love with Monty and begs him to take her back to the city, any city, wherever he comes from, it doesn't matter. Remick should've gotten an Oscar for her performance. It becomes her movie in the middle third. Monty faces opposition not only from Mrs. Garth but from the white businessmen and local bosses who've relied on cheap Negro labor.

This is a tremendous film. Martin Scorsese called it Elia Kazan's greatest work, which is saying something whem you consider his filmography, which includes "On the Waterfront", the aforementioned "East of Eden" and "A Streetcar Named Desire", among others. If you read the IMDB reviews and ratings, you will see that the fans agree. Many give it an 8/10 or higher. Monty is great as always. Has there ever been an actor who made so few films, yet all of them are different from one another, and all are classic? And has there ever been an actor whose life was as tragic as his career was triumphant? All of this is why Montgomery Clift rules. The guy can do no wrong, because he was for real, and it comes across onscreen. He was Method Acting and playing himself all at once. The last shot of this film will blow you away. I give it a 10/10. 

And that is more or less all for today. I'm still being distracted by the political situation (please God, let it be over) but I've been back to work on finishing my second book, which has astonishing new developments. You've heard me talk about 1989 for many years, but how about 2009? Are you ready for that?

Stay tuned.

August 17, 2024

 Howdy folks. Sorry for the delay in posting, it's been a busy week, but let's get caught up, starting with last night's Jon Anderson concert, which Grimsley and I attended at the Fred Kavli Theater in Thousand Oaks. T.O. doesn't usually spring to mind when one thinks of rock shows, but the Kavli is a very nice, intimate venue, similar inside to a classical concert hall with stacked balconies and side boxes, and the sound and sightlines are excellent. I also love Thousand Oaks, a beautiful town with a laid-back, clean and quiet vibe that reminds you of the Valley in the 1970s. It's not unlike Santa Clarita in that respect, and it's a piece of cake to get to. Grim drove. We took the 118 to the 23 with zero traffic on a Friday evening, imagine that. Free street parking at Thousand Oaks Boulevard and Cunningham Road, with a half-mile walk to the theater.

"Okay, Ad, but how was the show?" Since you dare to ask, I will answer. It was so far off the charts that it's unreviewable. You kind of had to be there. First of all, Jon Anderson will be 80 in two months. That, in itself, is astonishing, because he's lost nothing vocally, except maybe 5% of his lung power, but he's still got the other 95% and he remains note-perfect. Then there was his backing group. Have you ever heard of The Band Geeks? I hadn't either, nor likely had anyone else until this tour was announced. They  are an amalgamation of high-level musicians led by bass player Ritchie Castellano, who plays full-time for Blue Oyster Cult. He can duplicate Chris Squire's parts, and that goes for everyone in the group on their respective instruments. Most impressive was guitarist Andy Graziano's replication of Steve Howe. Howe is such an ideosyncratic player; I never thought anyone could play his licks but this guy did it effortlessly, and that goes for the whole band. It was like Yes on steroids. They played from 8:10 to 10:52 with a 22 minute intermission, so it was 2 hours and 20 minutes of music. They opened with "Yours Is No Disgrace", closed with "Roundabout". You can go to setlist.com to check the rest. The whole thing was outstanding, it was like seeing Yes in 1973 if they were The Band Geeks and Jon was 80, with an awesome light show of the current stripped-down, AI variety. The audience were all between 60 and 80, except for a few 8 to10 year olds with their grandparents. Lucky kids. 

Grim and I were initially going to go to see Alice Cooper on this night (August 16). We had tickets, which included free passes to the Orange County Fair. But then, about two months ago, I started seeing Facebook reviews for this Jon Anderson tour, describing the power of The Band Geeks. Though I've been to over 800 concerts, I never saw the classic Yes lineup (how the hell did I screw that up?), but I was fortunate enough to catch Jon with ARW (Anderson, Rabin and Wakeman) twice, in 2016 and 2018, so I knew he could still deliver the goods, but I wasn't as revved about seeing him without Rabin and Wakeman, and when I first heard that his band was called The Band Geeks...well, that didn't help. But then, after reading all these rave reviews, I found a concert video on Youtube. "Holy smokes!" I called Grim. "Man, I hate to say it, but Jon Anderson is playing the same night as Alice Cooper. They're playing all Yes material and his band is incredible. It's gonna kill me to miss this show." Grim said, "Let's sell the Alice Cooper tickets. The drive to Costa Mesa on a Friday night would be hellish, anyway." He was right. Costa Mesa (where Alice was playing), is 65 miles down the 405, which is slow at any given time but becomes a parking lot on weekend nights. In 2008, it took me almost three hours to get there for a Hilary Hahn concert at the Segerstrom Theater, so I wasn't looking forward to the drive, either. Long story short, I sold our Alice tickets on Stubhub, and we bought Jon Anderson tix instead. We hated to miss Alice Cooper, but he tours every year. We'll catch him in 2025, hopefully at a closer venue. And, we made the right choice with Jon Anderson and The Band Geeks. The next time they tour, absolutely do not miss them.

Let's see, what else have we got? No Montgomery Clift, but I did watch "Carousel", one of the great Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals. It's also one of my favorite movies. Shirley Jones is so beautiful and wholesome in her role as "Julie", a factory girl in a New England mill town who loses her job when she falls for carnival barker "Billy Bigelow", played by the great Gordon McRea. He soon gets fired also (by his jealous boss "Mrs. Mullin") and the two hastily marry. Julie gets pregnant, but Billy is put upon by her relatives for having no way to support his young wife and child. Ashamed of himself and desperate, he takes an offer from hoodlum "Jigger Craigin" (Cameron Mitchell), to rob mill owner "Mr. Bascombe" (John Dehner), but things go awry and the plot turns. "Carousel" features the classic showtunes "If I Loved You" (which you'll recognize), "June Is Bustin' Out All Over" and "You'll Never Walk Alone". Gordon McRea and Shirley Jones also starred in Rogers and Hammerstein's "Oklahoma", one of the greatest musicals ever made. Both films are highly recommended.  

I listened to part of Trump's interview on X (formerly Twitter) with Elon Musk, something I never could've imagined myself doing one month ago, but that was before George Clooney unleashed the communist coup that brought us Queen Kamala, the most dangerous politician in American history, not to mention the worst. Now, every day I am on the Trump Train, though I won't pull the voting lever for him (if I was in a swing state, I would). I watch Megyn Kelly and Fox News, along with Sky News in Australia, anything to get an anti-Harris viewpoint. I check realclearpolling.com every day, usually more than once. It's driving me to distraction. Fortunately right now, even with the free ride given to Harris by the media and her "joy" (i.e. policy-free) offensive winning over eager Dems, Trump is still ahead in the current Electoral College assessment. Let us pray he wins. If he doesn't, we won't have a country. I said to Grim, "Imagine me, the guy who was scientifically verified as the #1 Anti-Trumper of all time, rooting for Trump to win. How is that even possible?" Grim thought about it but I answered for him: "What would it take for me, of all people, to actually root for Donald Trump? He'd have to be running against somebody who was even worse. I didn't think that was possible, but it's happened." 

Last Sunday (August 11) I went wih my sister Vickie to the Ahmanson Theater at the Music Center to see a matinee performance of "Clue", which was based on the 1985 movie. It was a total blast, completely madcap with a great, Disney-ish stage set and lighting effects all remeniscent of The Haunted Mansion. The acting was farcical and almost cartoonish in places, with a lead who reminded me of Jim Carrey. Great stuff and not an empty seat in the house. Vickie picked me up at Whole Foods by the Ventura Boulevard/101 Freeway exit. I took the 240 bus down there (one bus the whole way) because my car is leaking coolant (gotta get it repaired, Ad, don't dawdle.) All in all, a great trip downtown, we even got free street parking because it was Sunday. It was my first time at a play since "The Exorcist" at the Geffen Theater in 2012, an awesome show that starred Richard Chamberlain and Brooke Shields. 

That's about all I've got this time. Not much music this week, because I'm so nervous about the election, as I'm sure you are the other way around. I've gotta get my mojo back. I mean, I was worried we wouldn't survive Trump after the 2016 election, but we did and now I'm rooting for him because I don't believe we'll survive Harris. Hey Washington? Can we please have our normal, moderate politicians back? Where are the Clintons and Bushes of today? ("Stay! Out! Da Bushes!" - Jesse Jackson). Anyhow, it will be interesting to see how the Dems deal with the mass of anti-Israel protesters that are sure to be at their convention in Chicago, not to mention all the various Wokester groups. Good luck with all that, Kamala. Maybe you can sic Nancy Pelosi on 'em. Me, I'll be at Sammy Hagar's Best of Both Worlds concert on Monday night at the Forum. That's the Red Rocker's tribute to Van Halen. It'll be my first time seeing original VH bassist Michael Anthony since the "1984" tour, forty years ago. I'll review it in the next blog, and I'll have a Monty movie for you. Stay tuned.