R.I.P.

Robert Craig Knievel
1938-2007

"... there's magic in my eyes."

Been listening to a lot of THE WHO SELL OUT lately. It's my favorite Who album, for one thing, which automatically makes it one of my favorite albums, period. And I finally tracked down the rare mono mix, which some people prefer. It's certainly different, but I haven't quite made up my mind yet.

You get a lot of different guitar solos, for one thing — especially in "Our Love Was." And a completely different version of "Mary Anne With The Shaky Hands." And it's a little punchier on the whole with a more pronounced high end, which I like.

One thing's for sure. I prefer it to the remastered CD, which has extra stuff stuck in the middle of the original album's sequence. Bad move. If I were President, that would be an offense that carried automatic jail time. But if you wanna stick some demos and stuff on the end of the original album, knock yourself out. Just don't mess with what I grew up listening to over and over and over till the neighbors could probably recite the lyrics to "I Can See For Miles." That's like painting a pack of Toastchee crackers and can of Copenhagen on the table in "The Last Supper."

However you hear it -- mono or stereo, vinyl or 8-track, CD or boosted off the Internet -- THE WHO SELL OUT is a masterpiece, taking the whole Pop Art thing The Who flirted with during that period and really running with it. From the tacky ads on the cover to the commecials between songs to songs that turn into commercials ("Odorono"), this thing is completely cuckoo. It's got Pete's Art School thing all over it. I can't imagine what it musta been like to hear this record brand new in 1967. (And as an Advertising practitioner, it's an weird justification of the kind of swill we crank out. See? It IS art!)

It's a shame they abandon the pirate radio theme toward the end of Side Two, but them's the breaks. It's also a shame that with all the Tommy Lifehouse Who's Next Quadrophenia rock opera concept album discussion, this one rarely gets mentioned — when it's maybe the time where Pete's concept really really works.

And Keith Moon goes completely nuts throughout with all sorts of engineer-y knob-twiddling giving his cymbols a real abrasive edge.

This LP has a soft spot in my heart because it was one of the first "rare" records I paid a "collector's" price for — $12 of my high school summer job hardearned (at Memory Lane Records outside Philly) for an original stereo Decca copy with the shrinkwrap still on it. It was a purchase I debated for days -- you'd think I was buying a Cadillac or something.

Have you heard the Petra Haden thing? It's great, a tribute this album certainly deserves.

Welcome to the new conference room.

I work in one of those glass-and-steel office buildings that Raleigh is so full of. These buildings all look the same -- and it doesn't seem like any are more than 15 years old.

The agency I work for occupies the entire second floor. But it's also where the lobby is (the first floor you enter through the parking deck), so we get quite a few strangers in our men's room. I went there today, and there were four guys already in there. Businessmen, each about 35. Khaki pants, blue oxford shirts, sportcoats, loafers. Hair full of product, standing up in a brush-looking kinda thing. (Come to think of it, they all looked a lot like sociopath/murderer/freak Scott Peterson.) Those briefcase-suitcase-airport-terminal-wheely things, all parked side-by-side outside the restroom door.

Two of these guys are at the urinals. The other two are waiting their turn behind them. I walk in, see all this humanity packed into the restroom and pause for a second. Do I want to wait? Should I come back later? Should I see if the stalls are occupied?

I step into the bathroom. Then it hits me. These four guys are all on their Blackberry/Treo/iPhones -- using their thumbs to frantically maneuver through emails or phone messages or child porn or whatever.

EVEN THE TWO GUYS WHO ARE PEEING!

I decided to come back later.

So, are some people arrogant enough to THINK their time is so valuable they can't even urinate without sharing their wisdom with the rest of the world? Do they think we're gonna be impressed? "Look at that, Austin. That's what I call multi-tasking!" 'Fraid not. It's more like "Oooooh! That guy's peeing and messing around with his cell phone!"

One thing's for sure. I ain't touching nobody's cell phone ever again. Who knows where it's been -- like, God forbid, a men's room in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Frame 352

From the Patterson-Gimlin film.

In Hell, everything is in Metrocolor.

When I was a kid, my Dad collected movies. He still does, but now they're on DVD, not 16 or 35mm film.

Came across this image the other day (on the wonderful, excessive, tech-y, geeky widescreenmuseum.com), and it really sent me back to those film days.

It's a 35mm frame from Stanley Kubrick's 2001. (That chilling scene right before the intermission where you realize HAL is reading their lips.) Squeezed for anamorphic projection. With a round reel changeover cue. With both the stereo magnetic and optical mono soundtracks. And printed on whatever crappy film stock Metrocolor stuff was dumped on. Seemed like no matter how well you cared for the stuff, it faded to this sickly pink over time. I've heard that some films from the period were this faded while still in their theatrical release!

The weird thing is, your brain will eventually correct the color for you — if the movie's any good. For instance, James and I watched THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM about 14 thousand times (including back-to-back showings from time to time), in a 'Scope 16mm faded-brown "Color by Pathe" print. And we never complained. You can now get it in a beautiful widescreen DVD, by the way.

Same with 2001. The redone transfer in that new Stanley box is supposed to be truly amazing. Haven't seen it yet (it's on my Christmas list).

But as for the film itself, I've seen that thing about 50 times. And movies just don't get no better.

This might be the best record of 2007.

Or maybe it's the best record of 1927, which is what it kinda sounds like.

Whatever, it's really good. And, of course, Levon Helm is a National Treasure and should be on the nickel instead of some stupid buffalo.

So do yourself a favor. Go get this here thing.

Herbie Rides Again Part 2

Halloween was a success. Jennifer got the costume done. Candy was accumulated. And Presley realized her dream to be Herbie The Love Bug.

In case you were wondering, yes, it is an extreme butt-ache to escort a six-year-old that's wearing a four-foot-long foam Volkswagen, as seen below. (Some of you may recognize the house.)


She's already making plans. Next year, it's the Pink Panther.