Here’s a fresh take:
“To love.”
“To pain.”
“Tonight.”
And our “exit” music for the day, played by:
Extra points if you can identify any of them.
Here’s a fresh take:
“To love.”
“To pain.”
“Tonight.”
And our “exit” music for the day, played by:
Extra points if you can identify any of them.
Once again, we take a look at one of the lesser-known actresses, this time Michele Cary. Who she? you ask. I remember her, back in the mists of time (although not by name) in the John Wayne movie El Dorado, playing a tomboy cowgirl:
But there’s more, so much more when it comes to this hottie:
And in Technicolor:
I have to say that she is just flat-out yummy.
Back when I wurr a lad, before the Great Wetback Episode, I played in a rock band of little significance, but by various means I knew a bunch of other musicians, especially in the Johannesburg scene.
South African music, like the country itself, was hopelessly divided when it came to music.
There was kwela, which was essentially Black urban music like that of Spokes Mashiyane , which no White people listened to, and tribal music like the Qongqothwane (Click Song). (For reference, Paul Simon’s Call Me Al is whitebread-kwela; the pennywhistle solos and thumping bass are characteristic of the genre — Simon added brass and such to make it more palatable to Whitey.)
Afrikaners listened to boeremusiek (Boer music), which was the equivalent of country/bluegrass, which they loved and everyone else rolled their eyes at. (Forgive me, but here’s Hantam Opskop, which is more or less translated as “barndance”, and Blikkiesdorp., which is a mythical town in the middle of nowhere.) It’s characterized by plentiful use of accordion and concertina, gawd help us. I actually knew quite a few of the more-popular musicians in this gig, and what what amazed me was how good they all were at their instruments; bandleader Flippie van Vuuren played seven instruments at maestro-level, and he wasn’t the only one. (I have a lovely story about Flippie, but it can wait for another time.) There was a crossover band named 4 Jacks And A Jill — oy — and here’s their signature song.
As for us Whiteys, well, there were the mainstreamers who listened to pop ballads — and you’re really going to have to forgive me for this lot: Timothy, Lazy Life, Look Out, and others so dire that good conscience will not let me play them here.
As for the rockers: well, most did covers of overseas hits (Trevor Rabin, later of Yes, first found fame when his group Rabbit played Tull’s Locomotive Breath, for instance). But every so often a little gem would creep through: Hawk’s Dark Side Of The Moon (not that one) is one example, there’s Freedom’s Children doing That Did It; Stingray’s Better The Devil You Know is another, and Ballyhoo’s Man On The Moon. And all-girl band Clout (Substitute) were in a class of their own, in that they became fantastically popular in Europe, especially in Germany.
When it comes to the rockers themselves, I knew almost all of them, some only to wave to, others as very close friends and a couple of times even, bandmates. We would go to each others’ gigs (when we ourselves weren’t booked), or else go to the popular Branch Office nightclub, which stayed open till 5am. There was a “members-only” bar off to the side, membership being confined very strictly to professional actors and musicians, and that was where we chatted and gossiped, who was playing where, which band had broken up, who was looking for work, etc.
Storytime:
Every so often we’d have a “band picnic” whereby some or all of the various bands’ members would meet on a Sunday afternoon at some spot out in the country. We’d bring meat and beer (mostly the latter) and then we’d hang out on blankets, chatting and joking, trying to score with each others’ wives / girlfriends (musicians are scum) and generally having a good time. Of course, there would be guitars, bongo drums and tambourines, so we’d jam and sing our favorite songs, sometime only a few guys, sometimes more than that, and a couple were gigantic — close to forty people at the picnic.
It would be no exaggeration to say that at some point, every single musician in the above rock bands had been to at least one of the picnics. Of course, everyone could sing, harmonize and play guitar, so some of the songs were not only well-rendered, but sometimes (I thought) better than the originals.
On one such occasion, we’d just finished singing an Eagles song (with Stingray’s Dennis East blowing the doors off the lead vocal), when somebody said, “Hey: did you hear that Joe Walsh has joined the Eagles?”
The general reaction was one of disbelief; I mean, why would Joe join a stupid country band? There was much head-shaking and bemusement.
Then Sandy Robbie from Circus let out a small belch, and said the immortal line: “Man, he must owe his pusher a lot of money.” Which resolved the issue right there.
Good times, good times…
From Reader Brad comes this extraordinary tale from Chicago:
A suspect who entered a Northwest Side home without permission was shot Monday afternoon.
A 26-year-old man was in the home in the 2100 block of North Meade Avenue a little before 1 p.m. when an unknown suspect entered without permission, police said.
The man, who has a FOID card, fired a gun in the direction of the suspect, hitting him twice in the chest.
The suspect, identified as 39-year-old Alexis Quiles by the Medical Examiner’s Office, fled and was found nearby. He was taken to Loyola University Medical Center and was listed in serious condition and was later pronounced dead.
Ahhh… nothing says “You’re goin’ down!” like a double-tap to the chest.
As for the “extraordinary” part: in Chicago, Righteous Shootings are very much out of the ordinary — but there’s always hope that it will become more popular.
In a recent J6 case it has been revealed that Liberty Safe Co. gave the FBI background access codes to the safe and vault owned by the investigative target of the FBI, Nathan Hughes.
As the story is told, the FBI (federal govt) contacted the safe manufacturer and asked for a secret code that would open the safe. The FBI had a search warrant for the premises. Liberty Safe Co. gave the FBI the access code that would allow them to open the safe, without relying on (or asking) the owner to open it.
Of course, Liberty Safe [irony alert] tried to weasel out of it, but as Sundance puts it:
This is a ridiculous position easily avoided by saying, “we don’t own the safe.” The bottom line is to avoid all the Liberty Safe products that allow them to access your private holdings, including gun safes and personal papers. If you own a Liberty Safe, just get rid of it. It’s compromised. Write it off to a lesson learned and forget about it.
I only use safes with a keyed lock, for more or less this precise reason.
Speaking of pineapples:
...yeah, that’s the ticket: cash to furriners’ wars instead of to disaster-struck Americans. Speaking of morons:
...clearly, he’s sick of being governor.
…leave it off, KMac. By the time you’ve marshaled the lawyers, got it though the House only to have it voted down by the Senate, he’ll either be dead of old age, totally ga-ga or else Clintoned.
In Political News (Brit Edition, no links because irrelevant):
...yeah, and if you idiot Brits vote him into power, every single promise he’s made will be broken, and you’ll still be bent over the desk. (Afterthought: Britain still makes steel? Who knew?)
From the Dept. of Global Cooling Climate Warming Change©:
...lessee: Africa’s principal exports (so far): AIDS, West Nile virus, millions of criminal “asylum seekers”, hurricanes which flatten the Caribbean and eastern U.S., radical Muslim terrorists and now, searing heat to the U.K. And people still wonder why I want to let the whole fucking continent sink.
...you don’t say. Electrical systems short out and catch fire when submerged under water, who’d a thunk?
...wait, it wasn’t Global Cooling Climate Warming Change©?
...you had me at “Biden” and “no real intelligence”.
In the Dept. of Totally Bloody Useless Anti-Crime Measures:
...the Britcops being still too busy checking the Internet for hate speech.
...wait, he was arrested in NYC? Clearly, Fake News.
From the Department of Education:
...and they said the Age of Romance was dead. And finally:
...as opposed to the 95% online garbage that’s been generated by humans so far?
And now, ’tis INSIGNIFICA time:
...maybe if she filmed every scene in the nude, I’d watch it.