The Big Green House

If all advertising were this surreal, it would be a happier world

Al Green - "So Tired Of Being Alone"

This just left me speechless. Not the performance itself; it’s just Al lip-synching on Soul Train. No, what floored me was Al’s rather… striking ensemble. It takes a brave man to go on national (if syndicated) TV wearing pirate boots, black patent-leather hot pants, a lavender halter top, a big-ass gold chain the likes of which would’ve crushed the mighty Mr. T, and the baddest fuzzy red pimp brim this side of the afterlife. That, my friends, is not the outfit of a shy or retiring man. Few and far between are those who would think of putting it together, much less making it work. It is inexplicable and uncompromising. If Al is indeed tired of being alone, perhaps it is because others fear his sartorial savoir faire.

I, for one, salute him.

Cotton, I'd imagine

Hello, naughty British people searching for "Felicity Kendal nude". Sorry to disappoint, but I have no such pictures. (Frankly, I'd be somewhat surprised if they existed at all.) I mostly write about music; feel free to look around while you're here.

Every now and then, Science Girl and I talk about dropping off the grid. You know, growing our own food, making our own power, etc. It’s not terribly practical for the most part, given where we live, but we do like to keep our footprint as small as we can. Once we deal with the lead paint issues on the exterior of the house, we’ll be putting in a couple of raised beds for vegetables. We already have a small container garden going – we had some of the peas we’d raised with dinner last night, actually. The tomatoes and strawberries are coming right along, and provided the squirrels and birds don’t get them first, we should have something to harvest in the next two weeks, I think.

We were discussing this over dinner last night, which brought up the subject of  “Good Neighbors”. It was a British TV sitcom from the mid-seventies; the original UK title was “The Good Life”, but apparently there’d been a show here in the US by the same name. The situation of the show was that Tom and Barbara Good (Richard Briers and Felicity Kendal) wanted to be self-sufficient, in that way that was so very popular in the seventies; the comedy arose from the suburban location of their home (Surbiton, if memory serves) and the proximity of their middle-class neighbors, Jerry and Margo Leadbetter (Paul Eddington and Penelope Keith).

It was a fairly amusing show. The PBS station in Sacramento ran it back in the mid eighties, as the one here in Seattle did, apparently. SG and I both enjoyed watching it, anyway. I mentioned that I’d had a huge crush on Felicity Kendal, at which point SG sighed and said, “You and every other guy I’ve met”. Well, it really only stands to reason; aside from being just about as cute as is legally possible, Barbara Good was spunky and intelligent and feisty and witty. (Fortunately, I was able to find someone like that myself.) (You can take that finger out from the back of your throat now.) SG mentioned that she recalled a song about Ms. Kendal, which I’d never heard of.

And that’s how I found myself Googling “Felicity Kendal’s Underpants” last night, under the direction of my loving fiancée.

Sadly enough, we were unable to find any reference to such a tune. Apparently there was a reference to her unmentionables in “The Young Ones”, but that was as close as we got. This is a sad state of affairs, my friends. Something must be done. I can’t offer anything but my undying gratitude, but if someone were to write such a song and send it to me… well, that would be really cool. Email it to me at the usual address, with “Felicity Kendal’s Underpants” as the subject. (“FK’s Knickers” or “FK’s Panties” would be acceptable, as well.) I’ll work on a version myself, but the more submissions there are the better.

Don't just stand there, bust a move

Awhile back, I was trying to explain to Science Girl the wonderful pants made from stuffed animals that Flea wore in the video for Young MC's "Bust A Move". She'd never seen the video. A quick Google search couldn't find any pix of the trousers in question, although we did find this guy's page. (That picture at the bottom is too cool for words.)

Flash forward to today. It hit me that I could find the actual video on YouTube. Sure enough, it was there. And now, it's also here. Enjoy.

Also, our DSL crapped out last night so there was no Radio Lethargico. That will be remedied tonight, same bat-time, same bat-station.

Fate, up against your will

Something I noticed while watching MTV this weekend… yes, that’s right. Might’ve been MTV2. I wasn’t paying that much attention, frankly. Aren’t you being as little anal about this? I mean, what difference does it really make, in the big scheme of things, which idiotic music video channel we were watching? The point is, it was one of the MTV thingies and not CMT or BET, OK? Now settle down and let me finish my story.

…um…

Oh, yeah. So, when did the New Wave/Post-Punk revival start? (OK, I know, it goes back at least to Elastica in the mid-90s or so, and includes The Strokes and blah de fuckin’ blah. Do you have to be such a pedant? What’s your problem today, anyway?) We saw videos by the following, not necessarily in this order but all within maybe 20 minutes of each other: The Zutons; The Concretes; Franz Ferdinand; Razorlight; and the truly unfortunately-named Dogs Die In Hot Cars. (Yes, dogs do die in hot cars. Babies die in washing machines, too, yet I’d never even think about naming a band after that fact. Please, consider a name change.) None of which sucked outright; I actually like The Concretes’ woozy, bummed-out pop, but I really have to be in the right mood. The others? Meh. Honestly, none of them are really bringing anything new to the table, are they?

Now, I realize that pop culture cannibalizes itself every twenty years, but this is the first time it’s snatched up something from my early adulthood in its bloody maw and started spitting out the sounds of my twenties. It’s an eerie and unsettling experience. You might want to start preparing yourself for the day when the loop catches up with you.

“If you want to compare your show to a comedy show, you're more than welcome to.”

This is a beautiful thing: Watch Jon Stewart take the dimwits on Crossfire to school. Or, just read the transcript. Either way, The Big Green House sends an industrial-strength thank you to Mr. Stewart for tearing those guys a new Tucker Carlson.

via MeFi

Get out of my head

Just this Sunday I was wondering how Paula Poundstone was getting along these days. I was watching Home Movies on the Cartoon Network and realized that Ms. Poundstone was no longer providing the voice of Brendan’s mom, as she had done when the show was on broadcast TV way back a couple of years ago. She was pretty damn funny, as is her wont. (I wonder if they’re still improvising the show?)

So anyway, the New York Times has apparently focused their mind-reading ray on my own personal brain (note to self: add more tinfoil to hat), because here is a story they ran today, all about Paula Poundstone. Coincidence? I think not.

I’m glad to see she’s still performing. There was a lot of shit flung at her in the tabloids (print and electronic), and a few talk-show hosts had a little fun at her expense during their monologues at the time, as I recall. I think a lot of people in her circumstances might have folded the tent & gotten a job selling shoes. Good on her for sticking with it. It looks like she’ll be playing here in November; I wonder if a can talk Science Girl into going? (See, now she kinda has to go with me, seeing as how I’ve asked in public. Sneaky of me, and probably not necessary, but there it is.)

Goodnight, Captain

Captain Kangaroo has passed on.

I imagine most of you are too young to remember the Captain in his prime. I religiously watched his program as a kid, in black and white and, when it became available, in color. My memories of Bunny Rabbit, Dancing Bear, Grandfather Clock, and the inimitable Mr. Greenjeans, are all a bit more vague, I’m afraid, but I did love hearing the Captain read “Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel” or “Make Way for Ducklings”. And I recall especially enjoying it when Mr. Moose would somehow arrange, through one elaborate scheme or another, to drop hundreds of ping-pong balls on the Captain’s head. If memory serves, this happened at least once per show, yet to my kid mind it remained fresh every time. As an adult the appeal might have worn off rather quickly, but that’s the beauty of the show – adults didn’t really enter into the equation. It was TV for kids - not marketing targets, not small consumers, but children who deserve quality entertainment. At least, that’s my memory of it. If you think otherwise, please keep it to yourself.