Death of a Poet

My brother and I were discussing how little fanfare was made of the death of Nipsey Russell. In fact, our series of conservations about Nipsey began with, "Did Nipsey Russell die?" I don't even think it was because we thought we heard about it, as much as we somehow felt that he had died. Sort of like there was a disruption in the Force.

A few days later, my brother mentioned that indeed Nipsey had died. He was 80 or 81, and died of cancer.

I think we all love Nipsey. And will miss him, though not forget him. His name crops up often in our riffing.

From an article by Keith Phipps on AV Club, where he references a comedy routine my brother and I always bring up:

Anyway, my favorite Nipsey Russell poem isn't by Nipsey at all. It comes from The Higgins Boys & Gruber's classic parody of PYRAMID, where Dave "Gruber" Allen (as Dick Clark) asked Steve Higgins (as Nipsey) if he could favor the TV audience with a poem, and he came out with:

"Boy that PYRAMID's such a great show/
Really wish other shows were more like it in a way."

Goodnight, Funnyman!

Urine for a Laugh!

I saw a commercial the other night on...TBS? Yes, it was TBS, cuz I was watching America's Funniest Videos (yes, today is November 9, 2005). Anyway this commercial comes on for Urine Gone, which claims to do just that. Because, as we all know, "getting rid of stains and odors caused by cat, dog or human urine can be exasperating." Don't I know it! But what can I do? It's not like there's a place in the bathroom to dispose of your urine. So after you soak it up with a towel every few days, a little urine is still left behind.

Luckily, Urine Gone comes with a black light stain detector. Aha, there's urine in the corner. And the sink. And the window blinds.

Spritz, spritz, spritz -- it's gone! Urine -- gone! It is the damnedest thing!

My life is renewed! I love Urine Gone! I keep a bottle in the car. I take it with me everywhere. You wouldn't believe how much urine is floating around out there. Phone booths, confessionals, martini bars, even public showers!

But not anymore. Not on my pee-pee watch!

Let us take a moment and reflect on the awesome power of Urine Gone!

(The author, who may seem to be endorsing the above product, is not. He, in fact, collects his urine in Jim Beam bottles and stores them in a safety deposit box. He does, however, recommend that his bank purchase a bottle, maybe two, of Urine Gone, because chances are a black light stain detector will detect myriad urine stains throughout the branch.)

Yes, I'm Doing Starbucks Humor Now

Last week I went to Barnes & Noble, bought a New Yorker, then went into the adjoining Starbucks for my first Eggnog Latte of the season. I'm usually in and out of a coffee shop, and I also never read the magazines I buy. So I decided to stay and read. And I enjoyed it.

So I went out tonight to do it again, but I went to Borders which is a bit closer. I think they've got a Seattle's Best in there. Only I can't find a New Yorker there. Every other piece of journalistic and tabloid crap's on the shelves, but no New Yorker. Not that there's anything high-falutin' about that publication: I just enjoyed reading it last week (actually, it took me all week to read, most of which was done in the bathroom).

I was a little disappointed. Without much hope, I drove to a supermarket to see if they had a copy. What was I thinking? Who knew it would be so hard to find a copy of The New Yorker? Usually I have trouble finding some out-of-print album, like Bobbie Gentry's Delta Sweete, whose "swampy, folk-tinged combination of blues and country" (Stephen Cook, All Music Guide) drew comparisons to Dusty in Memphis.

Anway, mildly sullen and slightly downtrodden, I moped into the Starbucks next door to at least get my coffee.

I drank it at home. And then made these:

Some Gin-Soaked Boy That You Don't Know

It's not so much things are funnier when you drink; it's just easier to laugh.

There's a copy of the latest issue of the New Yorker on the counter in my bathroom.

On the left side of my computer desk is a ticket stub from Domino which I saw a few weeks ago. It was for the most part pretty desperate, but I think I liked it despite having downed a grande black coffee just before going in and finding my heart was racing throughout , a condition further exacerbated by the excessive noise and rapid-eye editing of the film. Mostly I went to see it because I heard Tom Waits had a role in it and Kiera Knightley is real easy on the eyes.

I just finished watching three episodes of "Extras," a show I just got into thanks to a brilliant review by Qner. The show as well is feckin brilliant. I couldn't possibly think of a better end credits song than "Tea for the Tillerman." I think it's perfect. While there might not be all that much to picking out a soundtrack (we've all made dozens of mix tapes between us), sometimes a choice is beyond reproach.

Right. Well, carry on, vicar.

Mi Vida in the Bush of Ghosts

Hugo Chavez, Stinky to Bush's Lou Costello, is currently participating in the Summit of the Americas conference in Argentina where he will cross paths with, if not specifically meet, President Bush.

Mr. Chavez has repeatedly accused the Bush administration of trying to assassinate him and invade his oil-producing country. He is using the summit meeting to protest the administration's free trade message and to attempt a showdown with Mr. Bush.

Recently, Chavez, who has called Bush a "jerk", joked to reporters that he may give the US leader a scare at the Summit.

"I have something in mind," Chavez said. "I will walk to him very quietly and say 'boo.'"

Going to a Gumbo

I just got back from Safeway where I bought two limes for my gin (and something for dinner). Breezing through the frozen foods, the face of Smokey Robinson caught my eye. First I thought he'd gotten himself trapped in the freezer, but I came to my senses and realized Berry Gordy would never let that happen. A vested youth stocking glace eyed me cautiously, as I had yelped just a pitch higher than Bernadette Peters stepping on a slug. "Can I help you?" I asked, beating him to the punch. But he was already onto other adventures in the international foods aisle.

So I returned to Smokey, now realizing his face was on a box of frozen gumbo, Smokey's "The Soul Is In The Bowl " Seafood Gumbo, to be exact. Here was Motown's chief songwriter in their heyday (looking like Motown's chief songwriter in his heyday) gracing a box of frozen seafood gumbo. And according to its website, "Smokey is genuinely excited about his own line of food products!"

I'm not mocking Smokey at all. I love Smokey. Dylan didn't call him America's greatest poet because he owed him money. Byron would've shit his fucking pants if he ever read the lyrics to "Tracks of My Tears."

But I still haven't warmed up yet to Smokey's dreadlocks. What do I know though? When it comes to matters of hair and hairlines, you can cue "Tears of a Clown."

i see a harkness

Agatha Harkness figures prominently in my comic book recollections. I just thought of her now for some reason. I must be out of my friggin' mind.

Memorial for Mugsy

On the Anniversary tape, there's a Neil Yuck performance from either when the show was going to NBC or leaving some other channel, or something. Mugsy, as Neil, sings a farewell song. It was sentimental back then, and now it's touching. Here's part of the chorus:

"Gone but not forgotten
Guess it's 'bout time to leave
If you're wondering if we'll ever be back
Well, you gotta believe..."

So long, Mugsy!

Message from Mugsy

From "Notes About the Making of the Anniversary Tape," written by Mugsy, that accompanied my collection of "The Uncle Floyd Show" videotapes:

Putting any kind of a perspective of the UNCLE FLOYD SHOW on just one two hour video tape is almost impossible. The show began on a cable access channel on UA COLUMBIA. There is no record on what the show looked like then. Floyd says it was a real kiddy show with real kiddies in the audience. A short time after that he also began to tape a show at the studios of channel 68, a UHF station in West Orange. He soon stopped the cable show to work at 69 exclusively. Although there were a few previous cast members at the beginning like PAT CUPO, the first main full time cast member to join the show was SCOTT GORDON. MUGSY followed a few months later. This was sometime around 1976. MUGSY left for a year and was replaced by DAVE BURD, NETTO, JIM MONACO and SKIP ROONEY. After JIM left MUGSY returned and a few months later CHARLIE STODDARD premiered. This was the basic cast. It was 1979 and the show might have stayed like that forever but for a few developments...

We have probably inspired a generation of comedians and TV shows and movies that followed but we stayed true to our humble beginnings...

An finally, BEFORE the Simpsons, before Pee Wee Herman, before Living Color, before Eddie Murphy, and of course AFTER Speed Racer, there was the UNCLE FLOYD SHOW.

Mail from Mugsy

Back in '01, psaur got me a boxload of Uncle Floyd Show videotapes for my birthday. He'd ordered them from none other than Mugsy himself! Mugsy was the chief archivist and historian of the show. The Priority Mail box contained the tapes and pages written by Mugsy about the show and the tapes. Almost as tremendous as the contents, though, were the drawings Mugsy had made on the box. There was Skip and Scott and Oogie! And even Captain Fork!

Here for you are the drawings...