A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying...ROCK!

Pavlov's Dogs circa 1926 during their "Stinkin' up the Kennebec Valley'' world tour. From left, T. Ejevoli, Farook Amam, and some guy named Spot...

It was 50 years ago today, 

Mr. Myk taught the band to play,

they've been going in and out of style,

but they're guarenteed to raise a smile,

so let me introduce to you,

the band you've known for all these years....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tac71micVyQ

February 14th is the anniversary, as it is most years, of the innaugeral performance of Pavlov's Dogs, the rock and roll juggernaut formerly known as JET. A musical tour de force, forged in the traditions of british pop and punk, and definitely in the vein of the garage bands of the 70's such as  Velvet Underground and Iggy Pop.

Sure, pretty high falootin' alright. That is, if they could ever get their guitars tuned up. Guitar tuning was actually a central and essential element of their live performances. That is, of course, if they actually showed up for any of their gigs. For a while they were known as the greatest band that never was. Pavlov's Dogs famously did not show up for the Bangor State Fair Midway show, failed to show for Newport Maine's sesquecentennial celebration, and were nearly arrested at the Etna Dixmont School talent show. A prodigious resume indeed.

Some may ask, ''what ever happended to the memeberes of the P Dogs"? Indeed you may wonder what they are doing now. Well bass player Ivan Zwieback still plays at local Holiday Inns and Pancake breakfasts as a member of an illustrious local  blues band. Uncle Myk has joined the Jesuits and is currently doing missionary work at Radcliffe College in Cambridge MA, counseling young coeds on dating. Spot has been recently spotted in Nashville Tennessee, sporting a sequined Nudie suit and playing lead in an Eagles cover band, drunk off his ass, bby all reports. All of their former drummers, curiosly enough, have perished of spontaneous combustion. An ignominious end indeed to such  a promising young  ensemble with so much potential.

So, on this auspicious anniversary, let us raise a glass of $4 Merlot to the boys, once destined to change the world, now destined to change their grandchildren's diapers, and toast them a toasty toast. Let us hope to Jesus they do not get back together for any more shows. Don't worry. They probably wouldn't show up anyhow.

Coming this summer from Flybynyt Records-''Pavlov's Dogs Greatests Hits Straight out of the Garage''-when ever Hughie gets off his ass and masters the old recdordings.

Keep a rockin' kids

BFC

Tempest in a Wine Glass:SBL#178 De-Obfuscates the Top 5 News Story of the Week

"Be afraid, be very afraid''

Someone once said 'it doesn't take a genius to tell the difference between chicken shit and chicken salad'. Well, it's true, and the axiom is never more true than when you skim through the news headlines of the day. Surfing for news on the intronet is like panning for gold: the comedy just writes itself. Now, I've never been the most politically astute person around. As a matter of fact until recently I thought "Eurozone" referred to a popular porn site. Be that as it may, armed with a bottle of cheap Cabernet, I, and the editorial staff at SBL#178 sat down recently to de-obfuscate the top news stories of the week. I know the news can be obfuscative, so it our journalistic duty to de-obfuscate it, if for no other reason than to overuse the word obfuscate. So, with that in mind, we present, in no particular order, the top stories of the week.

Alabama Getaway

On Nov. 16, a European businessman paying a visit to his company’s manufacturing plant near Tuscaloosa, Alabama, was pulled over for driving a rental car without a tag.
The police officer asked the man for his license, but the only paperwork he had with him was a German I.D. card. Anywhere else in the nation, the cop might have issued the man a citation. Not in Alabama, where a strict new law requires police to look into the immigration status of people detained for routine traffic violations. Because the man couldn’t prove he had the right to be in the U.S., he was arrested and hauled off to the police station. The businessman turned out to be an executive with Mercedes-Benz, one of Alabama’s prized manufacturers, Bloomberg Businessweek reports in its Nov. 28 issue. The Mercedes plant employs 3,400 people, and the company’s much-heralded decision in 1993 to build cars in the state encouraged Hyundai, Honda, and Toyota to follow. Mercedes has downplayed the incident, calling it “unfortunate” and refusing further comment. Yet word of the arrest spread quickly through the state, amplifying a growing sentiment among many politicians, business owners and citizens that the immigration law, intended to drive off undocumented workers and free up jobs for the unemployed, is too strict and damages Alabama’s reputation as a place to do business.

“I was really embarrassed and overwhelmed,” says state Senator Gerald Dial, who previoiusly unequivocally voted for the law. “Mercedes has done more to change the image of Alabama than just about anything else. We don’t want to upset those people.” It was an honest mistake. We thought he was Mexican".

No Es Occupado

"Is it equitable that 99 should suffer for the extravegance or grandeur of one, especially when it is considered that men frequently owe their wealth to the impoverishment of their neighbors"(New York Gazette 1763).

Okay, I get it, the whole rich versus poor, Robin Hood appeal of the "Occupy" movement a'sweepin' the nation these days. I really don't like the rich bastards that have submarined our economy for the last ten years either. But here's a news flash for you kids: since the very beginning, our great democratic nation has, at it's heart, always been a corporate oligarchy.That hasn't ahanged kids, and it's not going to, despite the noble efforts of all the stinky assed, Patchouli wearing, tarpaulin tenting occupiers from NYC to San Francisco. But go ahead, hippies, rage...rage againt the dying of the light...or against the machine...or something to that effect. I'm with you. At least in spirit. However I think, this time they've gone to far. Outside malls in large west coast cities like San Fran and Sacremento, occupyers beseeched lust filled shppoers passing by their encampments to abstain from the capitalistic orgy that is Black Friday.As if that is going to happen. As ambivelent as the average person feels about the Occupy movement, I would say their pleas fell on deaf ears, not to mention armed shoppers (see story below). Alexander Hamilton laughs in his grave.

Freaky Friday

15 people pepper sprayed at a WalMart in the early hours of Friday-Insane

A suspicious item, thought to be a bomb, was found and dispatched in a Wal Mart in Cave Creek Arizona-Whacko

55-year-old shopper was shot and wounded during a robbery near a Walmart in Myrtle Beach, S.C.-unbelievable

Getting the brand new X-Box 360 before anyone else, at a great low Wal Mart cost-"PRICELESS"

Well, I know one God damned thing: I'm staying the Hell away from Wally Mart for a few days. Yes Black Friday not only results in fabulaous savings, but a number of felonies as well. Can you feel the Christmas love?

By the way, my teen-aged son wants me to mention the violence is in no way indicative of teenagers, nerds or gamers.. Joyeux Noel Asshole! Out of my way!!

Send in the Clowns

I don't know whether to be disgusted or morbidly drawn to the series of Republican debates being assailed upon the media watching public these last months. It's kind of like a car accident, which you cannot help but peek at. One after the other, crazy assed GOP hopefuls rise meteorically, shine brightly, then burn up impressively upon re-entry to the atmomsphere. First Michelle Bachman, who, by the way, has got the craziest eyes since Marty Feldman. She made Sarah Palin seem perfectly rational. Then Ravishing Rick Perry, who also makes George Bush look as smart as Noam Chomsky. Then Herman "the Pizzanator" Cain, who apparently can't keep "little Herman" in his pizza oven. Herman, we hardly knew ye'. Which lefft all you Republicans with Mitt Romney, who is a about as likable as Herman Goebbels, and makes historic flip floppers like John Kerry look positivley, well, not flippy floppy. Until, the seemingly unexplainable rise of Newt Gingrich. Remember Newt? How the hell did they figure to dig him up. Just because he doesn't trip all over his tongue and get his State Departments all mixed up,I guess he is your man."Him real smart"...Well, in case you kids forgot, or never knew, ask your parents who Newt Gingrich was in the 80's and 90's. You'll see. Good luck with that one. President Obama, the elction is yours sir.

"I'm Super, Thanks for Asking..."

Okay, let's pretend the Congressional Supercommittee is a celebrity marriage. Let's also pretend the Republicans are Kim Kardashian. And let's pretend the Democrats are NBA star Kris Humphries. Let's pretend all those budget cut ideas are the expensive wedding gifts given to Kardashian and Humphries. Can anyone else see why it was a union doomed from the start? I mean who is going to get all those gifts? Do they give them back? Anyway, we always have until 2013 to find out. Unlike Kim andKris.

Anyhow, that about covers it. And I didn't even have to bring up the end of the big NBA lockout ending. Yeah, millionaires!

May I be the first to wish you a delighful holiday relatively free from acrimony and strife.

Non illegitimi Corrundum

BFC

Joke of the week, Volume 26:"you'll eat a muffin, you'll eat it and like it.."

So these two muffins were sitting in an oven.

One muffin looks over to the other and says, "pretty hot in here, id'n'it"?

The other muffin says, "Holy shit, a talkin' muffin".

Get it?

Celebrity Haiku Volume #71- My Stanley Cup Hangeth Over

Bruins Coach Claude ("Cload") Julian

After the glorious season that was last year, capped by a fantastic Stanley Cup victory by the Big Bad Bruins. Clode's boys seem to be suffering a mild psychological let down. Nothing another Duck Boat parade can't fix. But alas, it is time to get back to the business of defending said cup. Lord Stanley waits for no man, as they say. So, in that spirit, Clode contributes this most recent Celebrity Haiku, as always torn from today's headlines. Hopefully this will improve the B's thus far dismal performance. Look! I haven't even finished this post and the B's are, at this moment, leading the Leafs 3-1. See?! Thus it is proved...

I love a parade

Would you like to see the Cup?

Sweet-est hangover

C. Julian

Celebrity Haiku #34: Al Davis

Erstwhile Raider owner Al Davis

Al Davis was known by a lot of adjectives over his legendary career in Oakland, some not prudent to repeat on this family oriented blog. We'll call him 'plucky' and leave it at that. Any case, before his untimely passing yesterday, the irascible owner (yes, that's it, we'll call him irascible) penned this appropos Celebrity Haiku. RIP Al.

"Come to the Dark Side"

"Full-y Op-erational"

"Wipe them out, all of them"!

-Darth Sidious,...errr Al Davis

Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

"Tito, we hardly knew ye''

By now, all you 'pink hat' wearing Red Sox fans are just climbing back down from the ledge and going back to your happy lives. After an epic fail September, historic for any team outside Boston, the Old Ball Team has missed their chance to fail in the 2011 playoffs and not make it to the World Series. After a very strong season on balance, the Sox went something like 7-20 in September to let the Tampa Bay Rays catch and eat them to take over the wild card spot. Some of you newer fans, who seem to think the Red Sox will always win, appeared suprised. I mean, Christ, at the beginning of the month, the Sox had a 9 game lead in the wild card race. Only a bunch of idiots could blow a lead like that, right? And I don't mean 'idiots' like the 2004 Johnny Damon idiots. I mean real idiots. A team would have to either be on the take or completely implode to lose a lead like that. Or be from Boston. Some of us knew though, Yes we did. I knew. Sully from Southie knew. Norm from Canton knew. We'd seen it all happen before.

Listen to my words you ''pink hatters', that is what we do here in Boston. That is what we have always done. Let me tell you a story. In 1978, I was a freshy freshman at Nokomis Regional High distracted from my studies by the baseball pennant race. In late July, the Sox had a seemingly insurmountable 14-1/2 game lead in the American League East. There was absolutely no doubt they would take the division and go to the World Series. Alas, on September 7, incredibly, their lead was down to 4 games entering a final four game series with the Jeezily New York Yankees. As you may have known or can guess, the Yanks went on a rampage in the series, scoring 42 runs on 67 hits, while the Red Flops commited a dozen errors and were uncerimoniously swept. That, children, forced a very rare one game playoff to break the tie and see who would go to the playoffs. The Sox of course lost the game, painfully and dramatically, off the bat of the Yankees diminutive shortstop, known as Russell Earl ''Bucky Fucking'' Dent. He homered, and my childhood hero Carl Yastrzemki watched it sail over the Green Monster. I saw it all unfold, right there in Mr. Lane's biology classroom. He brought in a TV and let us watch, thus scarring us for life. Thanks Mr. Lane.

In any event, 1978 was not the first year the Sox choked on such an epic scale. Review your baseball history books. In 1941, the Red Sox painfully folded against the Cards. You remember, Peskey held the ball. In 1967, same thing, same team. Cards ace bob Gibson kick the Sox asses and again the Sox fold. What is this, some kind of a curse? In 1975, the Red Sox played in what many consider the best World Series ever. They lose painfully and dramatically to the Big Red Cincinnati Machine. Later in Red Sox history, there would be even more epic fails. In 1986 there would be Bill Buckner and Mooky ''Fucking'' Wilson. In 2003, there was Aaron''Fucking'' Boone. Must be the curse.

Then there was 2004. And 2007. Great yes. Historic, yes. Life altering, you bet. But alas, Boston is still Boston. As great as the two world championships were, it is kind of comforting to be back in the drama. I t must be why people like Opera. Nothing like a good tragedy.

Anyway, whatever happened to precipitate such an enormous implosion this year, causing the Bosox' early exit, is just as elusive as the causes of 1978 or 1986 chokes. Maybe the pitching staff was out of shape, or drunk, or both. Maybe it was the pitching coaching staff. Maybe it was Papelbon. Maybe it was Francona. He always has been a ''player's manager'' and a little soft. Maybe it was the fat lazy complacent overpaid superstars who just could not be concerned enough to play hard or play together. Maybe it was wonderkind GM Theo Epstein, whose every off season and free agent deal amounted to about doodly squat. I mean, seriously, Carl Crawford has had less than a career year. And Erik Bedard? Fugetaboutit! It really doesn't matter. The iportant thing is that somebody has got to pay. Even though Francona is really not to blame, he must be ridden out of town on a rail. Who in Hell we are going to replace him with is an irrelevent consideration. Theo needs to go too. Probably he'll head to Chicago. Hell, why not take Tito with him. Win them a World Series. They're due. Papelbon? His head needs to be on a pike at the city limits. Okay, well, at least don't renew his contract. We'll have to keep Papi andWakefield-just because.

Yes, Red Sox nubes, changes are needed. Change is in the air. Sports talk in Boston will be heating up the hot stove early this year. This is what it was always like, every year, before 2004. Perhaps you hadn't heard. You'd better get used to it. At least now maybe I can get seats to a game at Fenway for under $200. It'll be just like old times.

I wonder if I still have Grady Little's number.

Joke of the Week Vol. 76

Q. Did you hear about the Amish lady who had a husband and also had a lover on the side?

Yeah, it seemed that she wanted to have 2 Men-no-nite! Get it !? 2 Mennonite?! Haw Haw!!!

It's only a Game, it's only a game, it's only a game....

"Once again you have brought shame to the family. You are no son of mine. You're dead to me".

For one thing, let's get this straight. The Jets did not beat the Pats Sunday. The Patriots lost. They threw up on their shoes. They peed their pants. They dropped a deuce. Sexy Rexy and his rag tag band of miscreants had not much to do with it. Yes, yes, they played some defence. Wowee!! That's part of the playoffs. But the Pats laid a big fat egg. I've been afreared of this happening all season long, the day when the wheels finally come off the cart. It just double-sucks that it had to happen against Rex Ryan and his little ''foot soldiers'' from Gotham. Now all I can hope for is for Big Ben and the Steelers to crush and humiliate the Jets and then fall on their own swords in shame. I have absolutely no rooting interest anymore as of about 7:30 PM the other night. Even in the NFC, I have about equal measures of hatred for both Chicago and Green Bay. None, I repeat, none of any remaining teams have any interest for me at all. I've explained to loyal readers of SBL#178 tha I am a true Boston homer, provincial and parochial. Me and Sully from Southie hate outsiders, especially when they beat our teams. You put one of ours in the hospital, we put one of yours in the morgue. In 1986, the Bears pasted the Patsies in the Super Bowl. Now academic is the fact that anyone who came up against the Super Bowl Shuffle Bears that year would also get pasted. But, jeez lousie 46-10!? I still shudder when I hear the names Tony Eason, Walter Payton, Jim MacMann or Refridgerator Perry. And Green Bay is no better. In Super Bowl XXXI the Cheesy bastards beat my Pats a la Brett F#^*ing Favre and Desmond F*^&@ Howard. I have since had little love for Green Bay, even though I have a soft spot for the old gunslinger Favre, being an old gunslinger myself. However, my man crush on Favre aside, I hate the Pack. They are dead to me. And the Jets??! Fugetaboutit!!!! Firstly any team from NYC has already earned my disgust. Add to it that toe nibbling knucklehead of a coach and his band of jive talking, over achieving chumps, and you have a team anyone outside of New York has to hate. I told you. Boston fans are petty, uinforgiving and mean.

So, no fans, I will not be sitting around watching the Hyperbowl this year. At least not for the football. All I can hope for this year is a wardrobe malfunction to make things interesting. Now, alas, I can get back to thinking about the important issues in life. Chiefly, ranting abut how much I hate the Yankees.

So enjoy your little moment in the sun Jets fans. If anybody is interested, I'll be up to camp ice fishing. Non illigitimi corrundum.

Celebrity Haiku Vol.56: The 'Hoodie' versus the 'Footie'

Now that the Pat's and the J-E-S-T, Jest, Jest, Jest's are going to meet agin for the thrid time this year, and by the way, the Pat's will win, the pedantic New England coach and the 'podiatric' New York caoch figured it might be a good time to quickly collaberate on a Haiku before the big game. Good luck Rex, and get ready for some more 'Hard Knocks'.


It is what it is

The Pats will cover the spread

I loves me some feet


-Bill Belechek/ RexRyan

Salad Days Vol:67: Dude, Where's my Jet Pack

''We are living in the future

Tell you how I know

I read it in the paper

15 years ago

W're all riding rocket ships

Talkin' with our mind

Wearing Turqoise jewelry

and standin' in soup lines...''

-John Prine

When I was a skinny lad, back in the 60's, roaming the mean streets of Mansfield Mass., me and my miscreant friends used to have a lot of fanciful notions of what the future might be like. It was, after all, the era of Kennedy, Johnson, Civil rights, Summers of Love and all that 60's jazz. Heady times, yes indeed. Of course, about that time, I was, after all, just a nipper, and I was focused on the more elemental things in life, namely TV. Shows like Star Trek and the Twilight Zone were popular and these shows gave us all sorts of misconceptions, as it turns out, about what things would be like in the future. In particular, there was this really cheesy show back then called "Space 1999. It was a show about how cool and futuristic the turn of the century was going to be. I got to thinking one day, and I calculated how old I was going to be in the year 2000. I was agast to discover I would be 37 whole years of age when the new millenium started. It seemed like such an incredibly old age. I could not imagine, at the time, being of such a disgustingly decrepit vintage. But, here I am, all these years later, not pushing 40 anymore but pullin it very very hard. I really would enjoy, right about now, waking up and having my back feel like it did when I was 37. It would be treat. And my kids would be a lot littler and cuter too. Anyway, it got me to thinking of all the incredible advances time has revealed to us, now that we live in the modern world known as the future. Some things I never would have imagined (cruise control for example), some I could easily live without("Glee" for example). To illustrate, for Christmas this last year, I received a Tom Tom GPS for my car. It is about the size of a deck of cards. It tells me how to navigate my car anywhere in the world without having to ask for directions. It has more computer technology in it than any of the Appolo Space missions to the moon and outer space in the 60's and 70's when I was a kid. It's cool alright, but it still can't get me through Boston at rushhour. Now that would be something. Another thing I have now that I live in the future is an MP3 player. Now when I was a young buck, back in the 80's, and I had to move from one appartment to another, the toughest part of the move was transporting my tunes with me. I had to pack all my LP's in my car, usually a 1974 Oldsmobile Cutlass, and tote my entire collection, which consisted of abnout 8 lobster crates full of albums that I may or may not have even listenned to. Plus I had to tote my big assed stereo, and my even bigger-assed speakers. Big meant better. Now with my MP3 player today, I can carry my entire collection of tunes in my jacket pocket, right next to my cell phone, both of which are about the size of a pack of basebal cards. Actually, that's the one thing we miscalculated about the "future" back then: the smallness of future technology. Back on Star Trek, computers were the sizes of cars, taking up whole rooms. Now, in actual practice, there are computers the size of walnuts, and cell phones the size of postage stamps, on which you can download and watch any movie you may want to watch any time anyplace. That same technolgy, however, cannot make the movie "Gigli" not suck. So, it's all relative, I guess.

The biggest dissapointment about the future, though, is that there are no "Jet Packs". Whe I was a kid,it was a common fantasy that, in the future, everyone would have their own personal jet pack. People would commute back and forth to work in their very own personal rocket powered vehicle...or at least a hovercraft. We really believd that. What a cruel dissapointment to discover that, now in 2011, I am still schlepping to work in a regular old internal combubstion engineered car. And for that matter, work itself, is a mjor bummer. It was supposed to be obsolete by the future. I thought Robots were supposed to do all the work for us.

Anyhow, I guess the future is not all bad. I do like not getting lost. I also like being able to call home from my car or from my favorite fly fishing stream. I enjoy being able to watch Ferris Beuller's Day Off on demand any time anywhere on a teeny tiny screen. I can pay for gas without even having to talk to the attendant. That's pretty cool. So, I guess all things considered, the future is about as cool as we thought it would be. But I'm still waiting for my damned Jet Pack. That'll be really cool.

Anyway, my Merlot is gone. Time for a refill. Whoever invented Merlot must have been a genius. Peace out.

Non illigitemi corrundum.