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by Mike Sheahan
Grief is always a hard thing to deal
with. With luck, grief visits us all briefly and departs quickly.
This week, however, the sadness should stick for awhile.For,
as most of us know, the legendary Cincinnati Reds owner Marge
Schott departed this mortal coil last week, leaving one burning
question on everyone's lips: "Great, now who's going to properly
defend Adolph Hitler?" Yes, Dame Schott never let loose of her
argument that Hitler "was good at the beginning but took it
too far." Even after multiple public apologies, she never wavered
in her defense of Hitler's early regime.
The venerable old lady
Schott was also known to publicly brandish social and racial
epitaphs often referring to African American ball players using the
N-word; say it wasn't fair that Asians came to the States to "make
our kids look bad"; and outlaw earrings on her field because only
"fruits wear earrings."Once, after home plate umpire John
McSherry collapsed and died from a heart attack on opening day, the
ever empathetic Schott declared, "No one feels worse than I do."
Comforting words for McSherry's family no doubt. The good news is
that it seems the Devil has only two of his spawn left roaming the
earth.Pat Buchanan has been relegated to off-hours news talk,
and Rosie O'Donnell is suddenly happily married. Maybe all is not
lost.
Astute readers will note
that last week's Goods was populated by a few calendar related
boo-boos. My apologies to anyone who showed up somewhere expecting
a baptism and got treated to a Marilyn Manson show. And God forbid
you went to a local club expecting "DJ Poopy Pants" and instead had
to endure an actual live music act. Going on only two years of
writing this column, the only blame that makes sense is the blame I
can heap upon the confounded leap year. Suddenly, Saturdays became
Sundays, the 5th became the 4th and some 35-year-olds lost the
ability to count on their hands. Blast that centuries-old Gregorian
method of marking time! If you must, blame me for the chronological
missteps, but really some ancient group of Christian monks are
truly to blame.
This Saturday, March 6, Storyville hosts an evening of fun-time punk stylings
billed as Straight Outta Junior High with local hard rockin'
faves Suitcase and Amazing Larry . If, during mid-twirl at some
jammed-out wank fest, you were left wondering if there was more
to life than the same triplet-based guitar solo over and over
and over, this might be your show. Some people can play guitar
solos with only two notes; it's worth checking out.The punk
style fun gets going at 9:30 p.m.
Speaking of Storyville,
tickets are now on sale for the March 30 visit by BR549 . The hardest working band in real
life honky tonk is sure to sell out weeks in advance, so now is the
time to get a jump on the competition. The BR549 experience is high
energy and filled with all the pickin' and heartbreakin' that one
should expect from the modern paramour of the real deal.
It's not always about
loud twangy music, dark bars and last calls this week though. In
fact, this week's biggest happening has nothing to do with music at
all. The fourth annual Durango Film Festival gets under way this weekend.
Highlights of the celluloid gorgefest include a roaring '20s themed
opening gala at the Smiley Auditorium showcasing the 1927 Buster
Keaton classic "The General" with a live orchestra playing much
like back in the day. Also look for screenings of the Oscar-winning
short documentary "Chernobyl Heart" and much more cinematic rapture
than can be detailed here. Visit www.durangofilmfestival.com
and enjoy a down-to-earth, honest movie fest before the likes of
Susan Sarandon and Clint Eastwood show up and ruin
everything.
Website of the
Week: www.cameltoe.org is one of my
favorite sites ever. The Toe site features candid photos of men and
women who sport pants so tight that there is not much left to the
imagination. These hilariously candid photos are coupled with an
equally amusing paragraph of social commentary that often
translates the wearing of bad pants to the downfall of western
civilization.
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This Week's Record in Review: Some
of the best advice my parents ever gave me was that I was only
as respectable as the crowd I ran with. Courtney Love and her
music career is a perfect example of such sage advice. After
the pretty awful "Pretty on the Inside," her next musical effort,
largely reputed to have been a collaboration with (some say
a gift from) Kurt Cobain, Hole's "Live Through This" was a great
Nirvana-like record. Next, Love's band followed with "Celebrity
Skin," a collaboration with Billy Corgan, which, oddly enough,
sounded a lot like a Smashing Pumpkins record. Courtney Love's
much-anticipated solo release, "America's Sweetheart," features
yet another collaboration. This time Linda Perry, most known
for her work with rock icons such as Pink and Christina Aguilera,
takes charge of writing the music, and Love writes and sings
the words. The records first two songs are filled with all the
piss and vinegar one might expect from Love, but she follows
with a couple of power ballads that may have been at home on
any of the late '80s hair bands albums. Truth is, much like
my parental advice, Love's album is no better than the company
it keeps. Take away the over-done distorted guitar and from-the-gut
wailing and you are left with an album suited for Pink or her
ilk.
If loud guitars and a
dirty mouth are all it takes to convince you that you are hearing a
great album, then buy "America's Sweetheart." Otherwise, take your
16 bucks and head for the record store's bargain bin where much of
the above mentioned music awaits you.
See you there.
mpsheahan@yahoo.com.
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