To Erik from Eric

Dear Erik,

I'm not sure if you remember me, but I last saw you at Princess Angela's wedding. I'm good friends with her and your mom and dad. Your dad and I get along especially well because we know all kinds of geeky trivia, like who Daws Butler and Paul Frees are. Great times.

I always felt a special kinship with you, for a number of reasons. You and I both have October birthdays. In fact, I was with Angela in Florida the day you were born, October 5, 2008, and I remember congratulating your dad on the phone.  

Princess Angela and Erik

The biggest kinship of all, though, is that we almost have the same name. I'm Eric too, only I spell mine with a C for cinema and you spell yours with a K - as in that kooky imagination you have. I didn't get to see you often, but I always had so much fun when I did. It was a kick (there's another K) just to listen to you come up with stuff like "roller-skating gophers." Lewis Carroll and his hookah-smoking caterpillar would have raised their eyebrows at your creations.

I most remember my two trips to visit you last year. When I arrived in February, we went to Animal Kingdom, and we were eating at Flame Tree Barbeque, a little ways from the Expedition: Everest roller coaster. Whenever we heard the train pass by and the people squeal, you piped up with "Volcano!" Never mind that the mountain had snow at the top instead of fire - every few minutes we heard WOOSH (Squeeee) "Volcano!" Come to think of it, that ride might be more fun that way, since the Yeti never works anyhow.

But even that pales in comparison  to your performances the week of Angela's wedding. I actually got to watch you a couple of times by myself. It was for only a few minutes each time, but boy, were you a challenge to keep up with. I remember you running around Legoland at Downtown Disney with me trailing after you and thinking "Oh, please don't run somewhere I can't see you!"

Sometime later your dad and I went to Islands of Adventure, where the wildest story of all happened. I was getting on the Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey ride while you guys waited for me. I had a little trouble getting on, and the Uni team member there said "Your dad will meet you at the end."

*CHOKE* My dad? You mean Tim, the guy who is only a year and change older than me? I may look young, but I'm not that young! I guess you can't see all these white hairs on my head in the dark.

But you unwittingly gave that a positive spin because that made you, for a short time, my "brother." While your dad was on the Spider-Man ride, I remember taking you by the hand and leading you to the store where they sell all sorts of wall-crawler things. How did I keep you from running off? By taking you to the toys that flashed and made lots of noise!  It was great to get a chance to play "big brother" again after my much younger siblings had grown up.

You were always a rambunctious guy, and I remember Princess Angela wondering how you would fare at the wedding. So what do you do but steal the show by ... completely passing out. I'll never forget that "aaaw" from the audience.

But I have one other wedding memory with you and Angela. The day before, at the rehearsal dinner, they showed a video that had Angela in it, and you exclaimed, "That's Angela! She's over there! This is a good movie!"

Now that's my kinda kid - a budding little critic.  And I couldn't have agreed more.

I wish I could have taken you to a movie sometime and gotten to know you better, but I'll always be grateful for the time I had with you. Thanks for everything, Erik, and I'll see you again someday. Until then, Godspeed, little friend.

Oh,  I'm told you know a  place called "pancake city." Do me a favor? Save me a plate for when I get there. I like mine with cinnamon. 



Eric - with a C.

Erik William McKenny ~ October 5, 2008 - September 5, 2012

Ten years later - finally part of the 9/11 story

By the time I woke up in the late morning of September 11, 2001, both Twin Towers had collapsed, the Pentagon was in flames, scorched earth scarred a field in Pennsylvania - and I, a journalist, had missed it all.

Now, in the early morning of May 2, 2011, I reflect upon the news of Osama bin Laden's death - and in so doing, received a sort of closure I have been seeking for nearly a decade. 

I did not lose a loved one in the 9/11 attacks, but a part of me always felt hollowed out when thinking about that day. At that time, I was working as the night editor for the Middletown Journal. The night before, on Sept. 10, had been rather hectic - so much so, that I decided to sleep in and not set my alarm in the morning. 

I woke up to great alarm anyway. 

I came in to work that day expecting to be wildly busy, but I really wasn't, So many of the editors rightly stayed on thoughout the evening that I felt like a fifth wheel, and I didn't get to contribute much to the coverage.  That has always bothered me.

Now, 10 years later, the world is a very different place. In 2001, the Internet had been prominent for a few years but was still not nearly as dominant as it is today. Facebook and Twitter didn't even exist back then. I'm not even sure MySpace was all that prevalant at that point. 

In 2001, I found out about 9/11 through a phone message from my dad, and a news report I read on Yahoo. And even then I still thought it was an elaborate hoax, until I turned on the TV and saw the towers crash down. 

In 2011, shortly before 10:30 p.m.,  I was checking in to Facebook as usual and read that President Obama was about to make some kind of announcement relating to national security. That didn't sound good to me. A cloud formed over my head. 

Then, I switched on the TV to NBC news, which shortly confirmed that bin Laden was dead. And yes, rays of light did peek through the cloud. I was relieved the news was not dire. But I was not jubilant either. I cast a wary eye on footage of people celebrating outside the White House. 

I posted this status on Facebook. "It is good indeed that Osama bin Laden is dead, but I hesitate to think this is the end of anything other than his life. We must not let our guard down." 

I wasn't trying to be eloquent - I was just saying what was on my mind the most direct way I could. So I was surprised, and rather flattered that two friends of mine quoted me and tagged me on Facebook so other friends could read it.

Ironically enough, I may not be working at my newspaper job at all today. I have to work this coming Saturday, so I was taking Monday off. I have told my boss I would be ready to come in if needed. But even if I don't, I feel I have finally become part of the 9/11 story in a way I never had before.

But in a very crucial way, I still do not feel settled. None of us should. Yes, there is cause for celebration. It is good that one of the most evil men the world has ever seen is gone. It is good that those who lost loved ones may feel some sense of closure. But our pride must be tempered by vigilance. We could make no worse mistake now then to become complacent amid our gratitude. 

In many ways, a decade ago, we were asleep at the switch. And we can ill afford to avert our eyes again. I  may not sleep much after I write this - and that is good. The more restless we all are, the better. 

Freudian roller coaster

Kings Island opened this past weekend, but you won't find me there - and I'm not quite sure why.

I haven't been to Kings Island as a paying guest in more than 20 years. And I know why I shy away from the place. I'm no fun there. I can't hack roller coasters with big drops - and Kings Island's got a bunch of em. Even a ride as relatively tame as The Racer makes something in my brain say NO.

And that's the part I can't really figure out. I like the idea of roller coasters, and the physics of how they work. I'm not afraid of heights. I can go up in a hot air balloon or an airplane without breaking a sweat. I'm not afraid of drops. The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror at Disney's Hollywood Studios is one of my favorite rides, and that thing drops you several times on each trip.



It's not even roller coasters per se that bother me. I can ride the ones at the Disney parks. Space Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain are both loads of fun. Expedition Everest at Animal Kingdom and the Rock n' Roller Coasters at the Studios are a bit more intense, but I've been on both multiple times. I will never forget my debut whirl on the RNRC. I knew that the ride launched you from 0 to 60 at the very beginning, and I had planned to scream like the start of  the Beatles' "Revolution" to power me through it.




When I hit that first loop, however, all I could get out was "                  ." Not any kind of sound, just a stunned expression and a complete inability to vocalize, hence "                  ."

When it comes to roller coasters with big drops, though, it's a completely different story. When those g-forces on the big drops hit my stomach, my stomach always responds, "I would rather be anywhere in the world but here."

No, to find out why I can't take roller coasters, I think we have to resort to that old standby, childhood trauma.

The first big roller coaster I ever rode was an old wooden number called The Screechin' Eagle" at Americana Amusement Park AKA LeSourdsville Lake in Monroe, not far from where I work.



As you can see,  this roller coaster is not particularly tall. However, it has been particularly famous among coaster enthusiasts for its "air time"  - that moment when your butt lifts off the seat as you crest over the hill. Thing was, at the Screechin' Eagle it's not just your butt that lifts off the seat. It's the entire front half of your body. And when you're only 7 or 8 years old, and you're constantly afraid you're going to go flying OUT of the ride, well --- that tends to stay with you. So from that day on, roller coaster with big drops = last will and testament.

And I, being of sound mind and body, do not want to die, and don't want to be reminded that I feel like I'm going to die. So you could put Amy Adams in a bikini at the end of the ride, and that wouldn't sway me.

That said, she's welcome to try.

Florida 2011 recap Day 2 - Flowers and Oscars

On the second day of my Florida trip, it was time to get up and head to the parks. Or just one park in today's case: Epcot.

A lot of pop culture entities like to make fun of the place as being the "boring" educational park. They can go dive off Spaceship Earth (the big golf ball). Epcot is by far my favorite of the parks, and it's the best place to go and just hang. You can go to Epcot and not go on a single ride or see a single show, and you'll still get your money's worth. It's a beautiful place to get shots like this:

Found these guys wandering around the flower garden near the American pavilion at the World Showcase - pretty fearless guys. This wasn't done with a zoom lens at all - got right up close to em. (All the pictures were taken with my cell phone, camera, BTW. I used that because I wanted to see how good I could be with it, and I admit, because I get a kick out of being able to instantly upload photos with my phone. Or I could just be lazy.

At any rate, Angie, Derek and I stopped by Tutto Italia for lunch. It is a personal rule of mine that on every Disney World trip, I must dine at at least one of the full-service restaurants in World Showcase. I've had some of my very best culinary experiences there. Italian is my favorite ethnic food, and I'd never been to Epcot's Italian restaurants before, so I decided to give one of them a whirl.

I'd heard the restaurant described as "Fazoli's-level food at Carrabas-level prices." And while it's not quite THAT dramatic, I have to say it's one of the few Disney dining experiences that didn't truly impress me.

This was my main course, Casareci - cavatelli pasta, sweet sausage ragu, tomatoes, Pecorino Romano. It was good, but it lacked the WOW factor - not enough spice for my taste.

The dessert, however, was QUITE good. This is Gianduja - Chocolate Torta - chocolate and hazelnut torte with whipped cream and raspberry sauce. De-LECT-able. I'd be tempted to return to this place if only for the desserts. 

After lunch we strolled around the World Showcase. The following weekend was the start of the annual Flower and Garden Festival, but some topiaries were already up, like this lovely one of Belle and Beast, just outside of France, of course.

My personal favorite was this group just outside the UK Pavillion - here's Captain Hook closing in on Peter Pan.

But that doesn't tell the whole story ... pan to the right ... 

... and you'll see Captain Hook's Time is about up!

Strolling into the UK area, I simply had to go into a certain shop. You people can have your sun, surf and sand and all that crap - here's MY idea of paradise!

Paradise does have its pitfalls however. While I was ogling all that stuff, Angie got pulled into one of the street skits and I missed the whole blasted thing. I always knew one day my Beatlemania would cost me. 

Since that evening was Oscar night, I had to plop down in front of a chair to watch the big show, (which I thought wasn't as bad as everyone said it was). However, I plopped down in a chair that belonged to this lil' fella. 

This is Tobey, a beagle mix that belong's to Angie's roommate, Heather. As it turned out, I was sitting in the chair where Tobey regularly sleeps. But he didn't seem to mind. He's a sweet boy. He took to me right away. Toeby just relaxed or dozed on top of me, changing positions throughout the evening. 

Until he finally ended up like this, snoring in my lap. 

And that was pretty much the end of the day for both Tobey and me. Coming up next - adventures in Downtown Disney, and the Magic Kingdom!

Florida 2011 recap Day 1

Hellloooooo out there ...

It's been awhile since I've written in this blog spot, mainly because most of my writing has been directed at my newspaper work and at Sir Critic. Well, this blog originally started when I went on a trip to New Orleans, and I just came back from a trip to Florida. So it's time to dust Robinette Reflects off, look through the glass and recap my vacation.

I almost didn't go on this trip at all, deciding to travel only at the 11th hour. Was probably more like the 10th, really. But in the end, the trip turned out to be a much-needed tonic, and I'm very glad I decided to go.

After a somewhat hairy start with canceled flights, I arrived in Orlando only about an hour later than planned. After picking up my rental car, I headed out to meet with my longtime friend Angie and her boyfriend Derek at his place. By this time it was late enough to eat dinner, and I hadn't had anything to eat since early that morning.

When I go out on trips, I'm very keen to go to places that aren't in Ohio, and our dinner fell along those lines. We went to an area pizza chain called Mellow Mushroom, but don't let the name fool you. The place is kind of mellow, but it offers much more than mushrooms, which is a good thing, since I've never understood the appeal of that particular fungus.

Evoking 60s-era sights and sounds (one can practically hear Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" when you enter the place), Mellow Mushroom actually offers a pizza called Magical Mystery Tour, but I was not dying for that pizza to take me away, since it had Portobello mushrooms - the aforementioned deal-breaker. So instead, I opted for the Red Skin Potato Pie, which features not only red potato, but sour cream and ranch dressing, with an olive oil and garlic base. Quite delectable. It was a bit like eating an open-faced baked potato sandwich. I'm only sorry they didn't offer an I Am the Walrus pizza.

Satisfied but not quite stuffed, we next opted for dessert at a place called Sweet!, which most definitely lived up to its name in every sense of the word. The bakery has been featured on The Food Network's Cupcake Wars, and it wasn't hard to taste why. One swallow of these suckers, and you'll find it hard to settle for cupcakes from your local grocer ever again. Wanting to try a variety, I got four mini-cupcakes, including Black and White (chocolate cake, white chips, swirled frosting) Red Velvet, Peanut Butter and my favorite, Black and Gold (yellow cake, dark chocolate frosting, caramel filling). Nice way to cup ... er, cap the night.

Coming up on Day 2 - a swing through the park known as EPCOT - Every Podiatrist Comes Out Taxed.

A new blogging project: With a Little Luck

When I tell people that Beatles music plays everywhere I go, I usually get one of two reactions:

1. You must be payin' em.
2. Well, of course it does. You're YOU!

The first statement is not true. If I could spare that much cash, I'd buy Abbey Road Studios. There IS something to be said for the second.

It seems that almost every time I eat in a restaurant, or shop in a store, a Beatles song starts coming through those tinny little speakers. I'm starting to feel like I'm the Pied Piper. Or maybe the Fab Flautist.

It's happened so often lately, that I've decided to start a new project and have a little fun with this. Every time I hear a Bealtes-related song on a PA (group or solo) I will blog about that song.

So today, January 15, 2011 I walk into the Hasty Tasty Pancake House on Linden Avenue. First time I'd ever eaten there, actually. Sure enough, once I'm there the speakers start playing "With a Little Luck" by Paul McCartney.

The first single from the 1978 album London Town, it's one of the few Number One hits, if not the only one, to be recorded on a boat: A yacht named the Fair Carol. Alas, when this song comes on the radio or is played over a PA, it's the shorter version without the cool keyboard break. 

I prefer the longer version, so I can play air keys with it:

And here's a little more "Luck" - an early demo of the song, which I'd never heard before today!

Course, now that I've started this, the Beatles songs will start drying up when I go out - not that it will discourage me. Can't you feel the town exploding?

I read the news 30 years ago today, oh boy ...

Thirty years ago,  on Dec. 9, 1980, I became the man I am today. 

Maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but not by much. And those of you who know me well know exactly what I'm talking about.

Some of you might be thinking, "Wait - John Lennon died on December 8, not December  9." Very true. But being 10 years old at the time, I was in bed when the news first broke.  I did not find out about it until the morning of the 9th. I remember my granddad called from downstairs and woke me up saying "John Lennon was shot, Eric."

I thought I heard him wrong, or thought maybe he was kidding. When I saw the headline screaming at me from the Journal Herald, I knew he wasn't.

Some of you may be surprised to learn that my reaction wasn't grief or anguish. It was actually more shock and fascination, truth be told. You see, up to that point, I was more of Beach Boys fan than a Beatles fan. I liked the Beatles quite a lot because I heard a lot of their music, group and solo,  growing up. I still remember going to Wright State in 1975 when my dad was a student, and he put a sticker from Paul McCartney's Venus and Mars album on his locker. (When I returned to Wright State as a student in 1989, the sticker was still there.)

But for whatever reason, I gravitated more toward the Beach Boys at first. Still love them today. And I always found it amusing that my favorite groups growing up were both Capitol Records artists filed under "Bea." I had an awful lot of 45s with that orange and yellow "swirl" label.

On December 9, 1980, everything changed. From that day on, I began soaking up everything Beatles I could. I read every article, devoured every book, listened to every record that I could. Helping me along was the fact that in 1980, my dad bought new copies of Beatles records and gave me all his old ones. I was hooked.

 I especially admired how whenever someone told them "You can't do that," they would always say "Why not?" And they made it cool to find a new way to write, record or perform. When John Lennon had the other Beatles and George Martin go through not one, not two, but three completely different recordings of "Strawberry Fields Forever," they still made it work brilliantly. 

The new iTunes ads boil it down very nicely with one simple line: "The band that changed everything." 

I'm not sure if it's right to say the Beatles changed me, but they came to define me. I was and am SO into the group that my name became synonymous with the Fab Four. It was my claim to fame in school from fourth grade onward. 

Although I never devised any grand plan, I think my Beatlemania served sort of a purpose. On some subconscious level, I thought, "I'll use this to make my name." I didn't want to be known as "the kid with cerebral palsy." I became known as "the kid who likes the Beatles." 

That wasn't always so easy growing up. It wasn't "cool" to be a teenager who liked the Beatles in the age of hair metal and "Rock Me Amadeus." I remember showing off a batch of Beatle albums to kids in the neighborhood, and one girl scoffed "I thought Duran Duran was out."  When "Twist and Shout" became a top 40 hit in the 80s, on the strength of its appearance in Ferris Bueller's Day Off (thank you, John Hughes). I felt a sense of sweet vindication. For once in my life, everyone knew what I was talking about.

As the 80s became the 90s, my love for the Beatles never changed, but my identity did. It was in that period that my love for movies really ramped up. When I began writing reviews and created the "Sir Critic" moniker, film began to subsume me. Oh sure, people still knew I was a Beatle guy, but I think it's fair to say that I became better known as a movie guy than a Beatle guy, especially after Sir Critic made his way to Cox newspapers. 

So it's been funny that in the past few years, my Beatledom has roared back with a vengeance. A lot of that has to do with hooking up with people from my past via Facebook. One of the very first questions one of my classmates asked me was "Do you still know every word to every Beatles song ever written?" Like she had to ask! ;)

That resurgence manifested itself most touchingly after I went to a concert with a Beatles tribute band. It was a benefit for one of my classmates, Micah Grushon, who was battling cancer. When I went to say hello to him after the show, he told me: "I'm not surprised to see you here. I remember you giving a report on the Beatles in junior high and we were all like 'What? The Beatles??' - while we were listening to Men at Work." 

I laughed because, as it happened, Men at Work was one of the few 80s groups I really liked. But then, Micah really hit home when he told me, "It wasn't until we got to college years later that we realized, 'Eric was right.' "

Sadly, Micah passed away not long after that. But I'll never forget what he said to me. It was great to know that my Beatlemania, once scoffed at, became something positive - something that made life a little brighter. I'm reminded of John's lyric "Nowhere man, please listen, you don't know what you're missing, Nowhere man, the world is at your command." 

For the record, that's album six, track four, words 38 through 55.

(A shot of me with my John Lennon shirt - doubles as a Christmas picture!)

Glee's back - and I thought ...

Some months ago, I wrote in this cyberspace about discovering my new favorite TV show Glee. So now that the show has returned for a second season, I figure I ought to write about rediscovering it - and I'll try to make a habit of these recaps.

So as far as Tuesday's show went, I was very, very impressed, for the most part. Since there were so few flaws, let me get those out of the way first.

Good idea: Introducing a rival for Rachel in the person of Sunshine, a Filipino student played by pop star Charice. Really, really BAD idea: Subjecting their vocals to obvious audio processing. I suppose that's to make it sound like the existing recording, but it's inappropriate in this setting.  This is supposed to be a show about kids who can sign naturally, live, at the drop of a dime. Vocal processing/auto-tuning severely negates the spirit of that idea. I don't expect the cast to sing live, but vocal processing reminds pulls me out of the reverie and reminds me it's NOT real. Not to mention it's completely unnecessary for singers as good as Charice and Lea Michele.

And this might be just a matter of preference, as I'm not really much of a rap/R&B  fan, but I wasn't into the "Empire State of Mind" number. The Glee kids are just too ... suburban to pull the genre off convincingly. Maybe that's kind of the point, but I wish they'd quit trying.

But that same number segues into what's good about this show. It was well directed, and I liked the sly camera asides to the new cast members before they had their big scenes.

Mrs. Bieste made for a great new addition as the new football coach/rival for Sue. I was about to call her a sort of butch Julia Child or a swaggering Susan Boyle, but I realize that to do so would play into stereotypes her female jock embodies. Dot Jones played her very well, showing both tough and tender sides - and making both convincing.

Finally, there's Rachel, my personal favorite character. Glee has always walked a very fine line with her, making her flaws all too aggravating - but at the same time making her much more of a human being. Her maneuvering against Sunshine was particularly cold, even for Rachel - yet at the same time I did understand her feeling threatened, even though I did not condone her methods at all. And it's very easy to forgive her when she sings "What I Did for Love" that spectacularly. Scuse me, I think I hear iTunes calling me ...

My take on ebooks vs. real books

Most anyone who has recently been within earshot of me (or able to read my Facebook or emails) knows that I have recently fallen in love - with the iPod touch. I may not be a very typical guy, but I do love my electronic stuff.

In addition to placing 6,417 songs in the palm of my hand, the iPod Touch serves another useful function - as an e-reader. (Never mind that I'm already an e-reader myself). I had been debating getting a Kindle or a Nook and was delighted to discover that the Touch can be either one. Versatile little device.

Now, some people consider ebooks an anathema. They just have to have that tactile experience. They have to feel the paper. And I can understand that. There's a romanticism to books.  Roger Ebert recently pointed out that you couldn't find money left inside an ebook - although I hasten to point out I've never so much as found $1 in a book. And who would be dumb enough to use money for a bookmark anyway?

Being the Libra that I am, I find myself straddling the fence on this issue. I think that those who decry e-readers wholesale are being a bit narrow-minded, because ebooks do have quite a few advantages.

The ebook advantage

You can carry several at once without requiring a visit to the chiropractor. - If you're feeling indecisive, your e-reader can give you a whole range of options. No more stuffing three or four books into your bag. And heck, even one big, fat volume, like, say, The Lord of The Rings, can be cumbersome to lug around. I just bought a great new movie book called George Lucas' Blockbusting, and it's a hefty tome, weighing in at 976 pages.

No more dog-ears or other damage: I tend to be a bit destructive with books. I'm one of those people who stresses out when I just bought a nice new paperback, then  I accidentally sit on it and put a big 'ol crease in the cover. Or sometimes I've been known to bring a book with me when I go out to eat. Then I'm goofy enough to try to read while I'm eating. and then I splatter food juice onto the pages. One time I was eating some chicken wings, and the sauce dripped onto a book that I had open and the pages got stuck together. With ebooks, all these worries evaporate. And  let me tell you, wing sauce sure doesn't.

Easy to research: I read mostly non-fiction, and with those, e-readers can be especially handy. If I want to know about a particular fact from Blockbusting, all I have to do is search for the phrase with my e-reader, and boom - it's right there.

No more losing bookmarks: I never buy nice bookmarks because I'm always losing the damn things. Instead, I rely on a random collection of receipts, expired membership cars or movie tickets. None of that anymore.

But, on the other page ....

The ebook disadvantage

Faulty fonts: I have discovered that certain ebooks don't read very well. I tried to read a copy of The Lovely Bones, but whoever imported it failed to notice that it didn't port over any quotation marks or apostrophes. Made it too hard to follow, so I gave up.

How can you READ this? There's no pictures: Yes, I know e-readers can have digital pictures, but the effect just isn't the same as it is on paper. Particularly if it's glossy, slick paper. One of my favorite Beatle books is a volume called Recording the Beatles, filled with all kinds of geeky technical info about recording equipment. It's a lavish book that costs about $100. Just look at the pages:

I defy any e-reader to look THAT snazzy.

Library loyalty: My first job was working in a library. There's something to be said for wandering among the stacks. 

Autograph hound:  I'm lucky enough to own four autographed books: One by Judy Garland authority John Fricke, one by film historian Leonard Maltin, one by TCM host Robert Osborne, and one by actress Janet Leigh. You can't really sign a Kindle, can you?

I'm not ALL Beatles/Beach Boys!

Since I got a promotion at work (I am now the A&E editor for the Cox Ohio Southwest Group of Newspapers) I have been feeling newly energized and prolific. So I bring you the first of a multi-part series that will dive and delve into my musical catalog.

A little background - most people know me as a Beach Boys fan and particularly as a Beatlemaniac. So obviously, my MP3 player (a Toshiba Gigabeat) is loaded with their music. Some time back, however, I was having trouble with the player, and, heeding appallingly bad advice, I reformatted the player and erased everything. 

After panicking (and then growing my hair back) I restored the tracks and  began rebuilding my playlist of my very favorite songs. At that time, I was about to see a friend, who, for some unfathomable reason, is not a particular fan of either the Beatles or the Beach Boys. Strange, as she has such good taste in everything except 60s rock, but I adore her nonetheless.

That being the case, I decided to reload my favorites playlist with everything EXCEPT the Beatles and the Beach Boys. I never completely rebuilt the list, as it was quite immense, but, this should still give you some idea of what songs I like that did not appear on the Capitol label in the 1960s and start with "Bea."

I'll break the list up into about 12 tracks a piece. They appear in the random order my player sorted them into after my reformat. 

"Be My Baby"  by The Ronettes -   Screw saving the best for last. This is probably my favorite song of all time that is NOT by the Beatles or Beach Boys. That opening precussive THUMP jolts me every single time. Doesn't hurt that the song also helped launch my favorite director Martin Scorsese's career, via its opening of Mean Streets.

"Beautiful City/Day By Day" by  Laura Benanti: A Godspell mashup from a Stephen Schwartz compilation sung by Laura Benanti, whom I believe was only 19 at the time. Hell of  a set of pipes. 

"Falling Slowly"  by Glen Hansard/Marketa Irglova - So justly won the 2008 Best Song Oscar, from one of my very favorite films of the year, Once. Achingly lovely. 

"God Give Me Strength" by  Elvis Costello - Another movie song, co-written by Burt Bacharach, this one is from the very underrated film Grace of My Heart, which is a mashup (I like that word) of Brian Wilson/Carole King types. Should have been Oscar nominated. I only wish the soundtrack also included the version in the film sung by Kristen Vigard, who I learned later was one of the original Annies (as in Little Orphan).

"Hung Up" by Madonna - How do you make ABBA tolerable outside of Dancing Queen? This girl knows.

"Let Yourself Go" by Kristin Chenoweth - My second favorite Broadway actress let's 'er rip on this Irving Berlin classic. Tap dances, too. 

"Like a Prayer" by Madonna - My favorite Madge song. Most people don't pay attention to bass lines, but as a former bassist, I would LOVE to be able to play this groove. 

"Mustang Sally" by The Commitments - The more I think about it, the more I think I should have placed this movie in my 1991 ten best list. Have a great time whenever I watch it. 

"My Favorite Mistake" by Sheryl Crow - Favorite song of hers. Can't say I've had my own favorite mistake, but I can definitely relate to the feelings of fond regret that are in this song. Another nice bass line, and I think Sheryl plays it, actually. 

"Misirlou" by Dick Dale - From the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. This is one that made me wish I could play six strings as I once played four. 

"Singin' in the Rain" by Gene Kelly - Ya know, whenever I hear this, it actually sounds wrong without Gene's splashing. 

"Steve McQueen" by Sheryl Crow - Sheryl combines Beck and Steve Miller (and McQueen) to smashing effect. 

See? I'm not THAT shallow! To be continued ...

How to Train Your Mouth to be like a Dragon's

Remember that cartoon, Knighty-Knight Bugs, where there's a dragon who's been sneezing fire throughout? And then they end up in a room filled with explosives? Then the dragon makes like he's going to sneeze and Yosemite Sam says "Don't sneeze, ya stupid dragon - or you'll blow us to the moon!"

Sure enough, the dragon lets rip, the castle tower blows and takes off like a rocket, prompting Sam to grouse "Dragons iz so stupid!"

Well, I would be an excellent candidate to play that dragon now - because on Sunday, I survived The Weekend of Fire, which is essentially a hot sauce extravaganza at Jungle Jim's in Fairfield. See my newspapers' photo gallery here.

Now, those of you who know me might be surprised to learn I attended this. After all, bad experiences with hot food run in my family. I have told many people my dad's famous "Hot apple pie" story, when my grandma made an apple pie with cayenne instead of cinnamon. And then there was the time I was lame enough to handle a Szechuan pepper and then rub my eye with the same hand. That was in about 1992, and I think I only got the red out in about 2004.

So hot foods and the Robinettes have not always agreed with each other. But I decided to brave the Weekend of Fire,  because I just recently proved my mettle eating my way through the Broad Street Bash in Middletown, and I thought "Eric vs. Food, Episode II: Attack of the Spices" would be fun - except this time, the spices won.

My first stop was One Drop Barbeque Sauce, where I had about 4 or 5 drops of a sauce called Orange Blossom. Start slow and work my way up, I figured. It's an interesting mix of citrus and zing.

Stop 2 is sauces by Charcoal Buddy. Luckily, these are not lighter fluid. The one I try is a medium sauce that's vinegary and spicy - a mix I particularly like. Still, I had not run across anything truly hot yet.

The third stop offered a variety of sauces called 'Roid Rippin'. I sample one called Tapestry, which, befitting its name, is a mixture of different flavors. Can't identify them all, but here's where a trend starts: It goes down fine at first, then once I swallow, the ZING kicks in. The first beads of sweat start to drip from my brow. Now I'm cookin'.

Then, I come to a place about which I was truly curious. When I wrote my preview story about this event for the newspaper, I learned about Ghost Pepper Brownies, and the idea of combining sweet and hot intrigued me. I noticed that they didn't offer whole brownies for samples - just crumbs. I very quickly found out why. I tasted chocolate for about a second, then it felt like someone poured an entire pepper shaker down my gullet. YEOW! And this was all from just a crumb! NOW I'm cooking with gas! I immediately decide a drink is in order.

The next booth I visited was called Cajun Island, where I have a bourbon barbecue sauce with a smattering of chicken. This is NOT exactly what I had in mind when I said "drink," but luckily it's not hot at all.

Nearby were some sample of Mudflap Jones Chili  Mix. The name alone is catchy. If you put the word "Mudflap" in front of about anything, it sounds more interesting. It's good stuff. I taste brown sugar and hear the Rolling Stones in my head.

Being a salsa fan (the sauce, not the dance) I try a couple brands of Frontera. One is a double mustard. The other is a chipotle flavor that's labeled "hot" but it seems fairly mild to me - maybe the ghost pepper numbed me.

Next I spy a brand called Sweet and Saucy - and again, befitting their name, these are more sugary than spicy, but they are awfully nice. I try Peanut Butter Fudge, Chipotle Fudge (which is a lot like dishes I've tasted in authentic Mexican joints) and Cinnamon Caramel. The last, especially, is delectable, as I am a great fan of both cinnamon and caramel.

By this point, I am feeling a distinct lack of heat, and that's a problem at an event called The Weekend of Fire.  I come upon the DEFCON booth. You might say with a name like that, I'm asking for it, and you would be right.

It starts inauspiciously enough. I try the mild sauce, thinking even that's going to burn me, but I'm just fine with it. The guy behind the counter indicates a much tinier bottle and says "The smaller the bottle, the spicier it is." I detect a mischievous glint in his eye. The bottle says "Competition Wing Sauce." The sample cup has just a couple of drops.

"How bad can it be?" I muse - then I take a sip.

For maybe about .0001 seconds, I taste wing sauce. Then, an intense wave of heat erupts in my mouth, which EXPLODES like Mount Krakatoa. Then the fumes start to burn my nostrils. And no, I am NOT exaggerating. All I can think of is "H." Not "HOT." Just "H." I think maybe I meant to say HELP! This makes the Szechuan pepper in the eye feel like a tickle by comparison. Without question, this is the hottest substance I have ever ingested.

And all this from such a minuscule amount! I shudder to think what an entire chicken wing would be like, but I can say this much - once you get done with that, you'll do an excellent impression of a chicken, as you will not have any lips left!

Finally, I try one more item: Queen City Cayenne Ice Cream by Jeni's from Columbus. Blessedly, the stuff is not like my grandma's hot apple pie, but is more like chocolate ice cream with a mild kick to it. Having had my dessert, I decided if I knew what was good for me, I would beat it out of there. But I had to anyway. Had to get my 4th kick from Inception at the IMAX nearby!

Uncle Eric the linguist

So here I am writing again in this blog spot (or blogspot even) twice in one month. Twice in a few days, even!
What's the world coming to?

Well, it's coming down to the fact that I don't have enough energy to write something longer, like the half-year movie ten best list I'll do later this week. But I DO have enough energy to make a few additions to something already out there.

My friend Cathy sent me an impossibly adorable video of her baby laughing. I also spent some time recently with my "niece" Marta, who is about 17 months old. When she's not busy walking back and forth, handing me everything she owns (and sometimes things her parents own), she's quite the chatterbox.

These two young-uns brought to mind a Life in Hell comic by Simpsons creator Matt Groening. It's called "How to Understand Your Baby's Gibberish."

Yeah, I know, it's kinda small. But here's an enlarged version. (As far as I know, Groening never actually made a part two.) 

So I thought it might be fun for me to make a handful of additions/embellishments to this list. 

Ha-ha. 1. Funny. 2. Noisy panting. 3. Mommy and/or daddy and/or whoever is making weird faces at me sure are goobers. 

'Kay  - Abbreviation, short for "OK." 1. Yes. 2. Sure! 3. Affirmative.  4. Sir, yes sir! 5. I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever you say, mom/dad. Note - "O" is not short for "OK." 

Hi-yum. 1. Greetings! 2. Salutations! 3. Hey there! 4. How's it hanging? 5. I am garbling the Jewish phrase that means "To life!" 

No. - 1. Negative. 2. Nothin' doin. 3. Yuck! Who can eat this glop? 4. You have GOT to be kidding me! 5. I say this just to mess with your head when you ask me if I love you.

Num, num, num, NUM!  1. I'm hungry. 2. Feed me, damn you! 3. I want whatever you're eating, even if it is grossly inappropriate for me. e.g. Jalapeño poppers.

Wah! 1. Ow! 2. YEOWTCH! 3. Feed me, I said! 4. I can no longer tolerate this wet/soiled disposable absorbent device! 4. Get away! 5. I hate mommy and/or daddy! 6. $#$^@*&!!!! 7. Don't you know the world is a foul sty?

Yay. 1. I like this. 2. I wholeheartedly approve. 3. Nice! 4. Hooray! 5. A movie? Cool! (No, seriously, Marta does this whenever a movie comes on. My kinda kid!) 

Feel free to make your own additions in the comments! 

A tribute to an editor I knew only a little, but much admired

When Lisa Warren, the editor of the newspapers for which I write, passed away Friday, I felt surprised.

Not at her passing - she had been battling cancer for years, and recently the news had not been good. She fought valiantly, but she was admitted to hospice some weeks ago, and the writing on the wall was all too clear.

What did surprise me was how affected I felt by it. And that struck me, because I cannot claim to have known Lisa well. She and I had very little interaction. For many years, I worked for the Middletown Journal, while she was the editor of the Hamilton JournalNews. Around the time she became Middletown's editor as well,  in 2007, cancer had struck, and she ended up spending relatively little time where I worked.

So why was I so moved when she died? Part of it, I'm sure, was because I felt sad for my colleagues who did know her well. They had not just lost a boss, or even a mentor - they had lost a friend. And the fact that her death was imminent did not make their  loss any easier. I would imagine it made it even more trying.

And yet the few interactions I had with her were memorable. I can remember only two meetings I had with her. But they stand out for very different reasons.

A couple of years ago, when I was covering one of the small towns around Middletown, I was trying to report on a crime. The police were not being very forthcoming about it, and I kept after them, with call after call, trying to get SOME useful information from them, to little avail.

So when Lisa called me into her office, I was nervous. I always am at these sorts of meetings, but since I didn't know Lisa well, I wasn't sure what was in store.

She told me she had heard from the police and the city manager that I was being "unpleasantly aggressive."

She must have seen the expression on my face, because she gave me kind of a knowing look. Anyone who knows me at at all knows that the idea of me being "unpleasantly aggressive" is laughable. Sure, I can be persistent. But unpleasant? Unpleasantly AGGRESSIVE? Ridiculous.

She said she told them,  "That doesn't sound like the Eric I know." And I liked the way she phrased that. She and I barely knew each other, but she still had a good understanding of me. She said she would never have any problem with me being aggressive in my reporting, but since the perception was out there, I should meet with the officials and smooth over the ruffled feathers.

She was right, of course. I had the meeting and everything turned out fine. And how she dealt with the situation always stayed with me - she was eminently reasonable and fair.

The only other meeting I had with her was of much smaller consequence, but it still had a marked impact on me. She asked me to cover the Talawanda school district, in and around Oxford. I thought that was very strange, because I worked in Hamilton, and that was way out of my way. Still, I did it, and that decision was what made me get a GPS. I didn't want to follow Mapquest directions in the dark on those winding country roads and end up in a ditch somewhere.

And my use of a GPS has led to a lot of laughs for me. I call my GPS Glinda - the Navigator of the South, the East, the West AND the North. Sometimes I rely on her so heavily that one of my friends cracked "You use her to get HOME, don't you?"

That may seem inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but it DID all stem from that meeting with Lisa!

But she did impact me in larger ways, partly because of what I didn't get to experience with her. When I heard her say that my profile of a local resident impacted by the economy was a model of what to follow, that was golden to me, because I knew how high her standards were. I wish I had more moments like that.

I also felt a sense of loss because I knew how hard she fought her illness. She went through chemo after chemo, some of which were experimental or radical. She hung tough longer than many people would have, I'm sure.

Not too long before the end, she gave a pretty dramatic demonstration of her battle that really put things in perspecitve. She said through it all, she found three kinds of trouble, and lowering her hand, she put it like this:

HOLOCAUST



                                                         Cancer

your problem.

If we all faced our battles like Lisa faced hers, we would have a cure for cancer by now. That's why I don't like to read that Lisa "lost her battle with cancer." It's a pretty common phrase in obituary stories, and I suppose it is true, in a sense. But death meets us all in the end, no matter who we are. In NO way was Kira Lisa Warren a loser. And I knew her just well enough to be absolutely certain of that. 

Mother's Day Music in my catalog

This being Mother's Day and all, I thought it would be fun to rummage through my music catalog and see what songs pertained to moms.

Songs with the word "Mom" in the title

Wow. Out of the 6,933 tracks (no, really, I counted) in my library, I find a grand total of ZERO with the word "mom" in the title. The closest thing I've got is "Momma Miss America," a scrappy little instrumental from Paul McCartney's debut album that makes me wish I could play drums, guitar and piano.

Songs with the word "Mommy" in the title

"I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" - And underneath the mistletoe last night, no less. This was originally recorded by the Ronettes for Phil Spector's Christmas record, but I also have a version of the Beach Boys' kids singing it, with Brian Wilson banging away on piano. 

Songs with the word "Mama" in the title

Now we're gettin' somewhere. This more extensive list includes: 

"Blues in the Night (My Mama Done Told Me)" - Wonderfully swingy, torchy song. My version is one of Judy Garland's early Decca recordings, made during her MGM years. 

"Don't Tell Mama" - An, um, eye opening number from the Broadway show "Cabaret." If any of you saw the revival from the 90s, you KNOW what I mean! 

"Goose-Step Mama" A track by the Beatles parody Band the Rutles. Not meant to ape any specific song, I 

believe, but a good representation of their early clubbing days. Probably the zaniest "mom" title in my catalog. 

"I Don't Want to Be a Soldier Mama" - Cacophonous track from John Lennon's Imagine album. Cool sound to the song, but I always thought it was laborious and clunky compared to the rest of the album.

"Mama Says" - Strange little a capella track from the Beach Boys' Wild Honey LP that had been part of the version of "Vega-Tables" from the aborted Smile album. Never be lazy .... POOF!

"Mama Yo Quiero" - Another goofball track, from the Babes on Broadway soundtrack, with Mickey Rooney hamming it up as usual. And in the movie he does it dressed up like Carmen Miranda!

"Mama's Little Girl" - One of Paul McCartney's most charming obscure tunes, this went unreleased for years until he threw it on the B-side of "Put It There." A lovely, lilting mother/daughter song.

"Mama I'm a Big Girl Now" - This song from "Hairsrpay" wasn't used in the movie itself, but played over the end credits sung by all three girls who had played Tracy: Ricki Lake, Marisa Jaret Winokur and Nikki Bonsky. (Movie geek note: Marisa is the girl who works the drive through window in American Beauty and tells  Annette Bening, "You are so busted.") 

"Only Mama Knows" - One of my favorite tracks from Paul McCartney's last studio album released under his own name, Memory Almost Full. ROCKS! 

That's All Right (Mama) - I do not have the recording that launched Elvis' career in my collection, but I do have two versions sung by Paul McCartney - a scratchy Beatles BBC recording and a solo version from his 1987 oldies sessions. 

"When You're Good to Mama" - Show-stopper from the Chicago OCR/OST.  Queen Latifah knocked it out of the prison complex. 

Songs with the word "mother" in the title

"Getting Into Shape/Listen You Screwheads/Gun Play/Dear Father and Mother/The Card." - From the Taxi Driver soundtrack. I hereby retract my earlier statement about "Goose-Step Mama." 

"Have You Seen Your Mother Baby, Standing in the Shadow" - The Stones. Cool just for its distorted guitar opening. 

"Mother"  - John Lennon's tormented opus. People go on about how he shredded his voice on "Twist and Shout" - that's NOTHING compared to the wringer he puts his larynx through here. 

"Mother" - by The Police. NOT a cover of Lennon's song, but, to the best of my knowledge, Andy Summers' lone solo writing credit with the group. A rather noisy song From Synchronicity. 

"Mother Nature's Son" - "Sit beside a mountain stream, see her waters rise. Listen to the pretty sound of music as she flies. Do do do do do do do, do-do, do-do, do ...."

"Mother's Little Helper" - Ah, the Stones' gentle ode to pharmaceuticals. 

"The Mothership" - Do-do-do-do-dooooooo. WAH-WAAAAAAAH (Window shatters) 

And sort of ending as I began, "Your Mother Should Know." 

Glee = Eric, Eric = Glee

It isn't often that I latch on to TV shows. As most people who know me will attest, I am such a movie creature that the small screen to me seems to be just that - small.

Every once in a while I make an attempt to get into a show, but for one reason or the next, it rarely takes. Sometimes it's because I end up getting bored, as happened with American Idol. But more often it's because these days, the shows are so complicated that even if you blink during an episode, you're totally  Lost. (Capitalization intentional.) Other times the show is so far into its run that I don't feel inclined to spend an inordinate amount of time playing catch-up. I'd rather catch up on my TCM backlog on my DVR.

Last week, however, a show finally caught me - a little phenomenon called Glee.

I had watched one episode before - the one with my second favorite Broadway actress, Kristin Chenoweth, but as ususal, various distractions kept me from committing. When I heard the show was going to go back on the air with new episodes, I figured, "It's still a young show - I'll give it a shot. Seems right up my alley."

Wow. Is it ever.

It's a wonder I didn't get into Glee from the start. It's a musical, for which I am a considerable fool. Not for nothing are four of the movies on my Ten Best of All Time list musicals. 

Moreover, I have a rather famous fondness for girls who can sing, particularly long-haired brunettes, making Lea Michele (actual age 23) my latest celebrity crush. 

And besides being a good-looking girl with a hell of a voice, she's a hell of an actress. Her character, Rachel, the "star" of the group, casts the image of someone who seems to an outsider to have at all together, but on the inside is ragingly insecure. That's a quality I find very touching. 

And speaking of touching, the show hit me hard in personal ways I did not anticipate. Of course, there's the disabled character (Artie), but Glee's overall focus on all kinds of outcasts is what hit home for me. I've always seen myself as one, and not just because of my physical limitations. Even at my high school, where people were pretty friendly to me, I always felt like a bit of an outsider. No one ever doused me with a Slushie, but unlike 80 percent of the people there, I didn't grow up with the gang, having come into the district rather late. In many ways, I never felt part of the "in" crowd. Sometimes that actually felt good - sometimes it was lonely. Glee puts that across.

And what does Glee pull out of its hat when I make a commitment to watch it? With Lea singing? A Beatles cover!

Hello, hello indeed!  Or, as the part they left out goes:

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Cha cha cha!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Wooo-ooo!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Heyyy-la!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Cha cha cha!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Woo-oo-ooo!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Cha Cha!

Hey-la, hey hello-ah

Cha Cha!

Catharsis

An absolutely crushing blow has devastated me tonight. I won't get into the details here, where just anyone could stumble across it. Suffice it to say I got my hopes up about something yet again, only to have them come crashing to the ground.

My most recent post here, about the random music I listen to, mentioned a song that feels all too relevant right now: I Just Wasn't Made for These Times, by the Beach Boys. I said: If any song is a personal anthem for me, this is surely it.

The song, by Brian Wilson and Tony Asher, goes like this - the passage in bold seems especially relevant.

I keep looking for a place to fit
Where I can speak my mind
I've been trying hard to find the people
That I won't leave behind

They say I got brains
But they ain't doing me no good
I wish they could

Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good goin' for myself
But what goes wrong

Sometimes I feel very sad
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)

I guess I just wasn't made for these times

Every time I get the inspiration
To go change things around
No one wants to help me look for places
Where new things might be found

Where can I turn when my fair weather friends cop out
What's it all about

Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good goin' for myself
But what goes wrong

Sometimes I feel very sad
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)

I guess I just wasn't made for these times



As another favorite songwriter of mine once said, "I just had to let it go."
  

WSIR

Hello faithful few readers. Sorry I haven't posted anything in this space in quite some time, but outside of my movie-going, not a lot has happened in my life - at least not that I'm prepared to write about yet.

But Friday evening, while listening to Internet radio, I hit upon  (or heard upon) a fun topic - my strange musical taste.

I am quite famous for my Beatlemania, of course, but believe it or not, it's not the only music I listen to - although it is fair to say my taste is pretty retro, as this post will show.

I decided to do this post two ways. First I would turn on my custom-tailored Internet radio channel and list the first 10 songs I heard. These were not chosen by me, but were selected randomly by the computer. They were:

1. Are You Happy Now, Michelle Branch - One of my favorite singer-songwriters. I tend to gravitate toward young female chanteuses. I wish she'd put out the new material she's working on.

2. You Tell Me Why, The Beau Brummels -  I suppose the radio picked this for me because of it's Beatle-y sound. Didn't make much impression on me either way.

3. Chimes of Freedom, The Byrds - Again, the Beatle connection rears its mop-topped head. Lots of that jangly guitar.

4. Wouldn't It Be Nice, The Beach Boys  - Uuuum, YEAH!

5. Sleepyhouse, Blind Melon - Pleasant listen. I was never into Blind Melon, but I recall them because a couple of the guys in that band produced Anna Nalick.  Speaking of whom:

6. Citadel, Anna Nalick - What a coincidence! This was a live acoustic version of one of my favorite songs from her first and so far only album. I really would love to see her drop back on the face of the earth. Met her once at one of her shows. Great singer, fun girl.

7. Tired of Waiting for You, The Kinks - A groovy little tune from a truly underappreciated band.

8. Hey Bulldog, The Beatles - Yup, this computer knows me.

9. Save the Last Dance for Me, Ike and Tina Turner - From the Phil Spector box set. Funny, the backing to this sounds eerily like "Heroes and Villains" by the Beach Boys. Speaking of whom:

10. I Just Wasn't Made for These Times, Brian Wilson - If any song is a personal anthem for me, this is surely it. Interestingly, the computer picked the live version from Brian's Pet Sounds tour, which I had the honor of seeing twice. I was most definitely made for THOSE times.

For the second part of this experiment, I decided to pull out my Gigabeat (my MP3 player) and put it on random and see if I could get some truly weird segues.

1. Alone, Wilson Phillips - Ah, the one WP song solely written by Wendy, my favorite member of the group. She struck me as the smart, low-key one.

2. She's a Woman, Paul McCartney - Acoustic version from his Unplugged album. Has a cool swing.

3. A Hard Day's Night, The Beatles - If you threw me against the wall, held a gun to my head and asked me to name ONE favorite Beatles song (and believe me, that's the only way you could get me to name ONE) - it would be this one. This was a slightly remixed stereo version from a Making of Hard Day's Night video. Has a longer fade than any other version. Yes, I'm a complete geek.

4. Little Bird, The Beach Boys - Dennis Wilson's writing debut, from the 1968 album Friends. Pretty impressive for a start. One of the few songs I can think of that sports both a cello and banjo.

5. Everything I Need, The Wilsons - My, we're on a Wilsons kick. Not that I mind. This is a song written by Brian Wilson and Tony Asher (Pet Sounds) from a solo album by Carnie and Wendy. Brian sings too.

6. On and On and On, The Internationals - Now HERE'S a weird segue. Rockin' track from my friend Todd Pack's former band. Has some of his tastiest guitar playing.

7. (Just Like) Starting Over, John Lennon  - And we segue into a track by Todd's favorite Beatle, which, despite its jaunty sound,  will always have a wistful air of melancholy about it because this was the song that was out when he died.

8. When Your Mind's Made Up, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova  - My second favorite song from the Once soundtrack, after the Oscar-winning "Falling Slowly," of course.

9. Got My Mind Set on You, George Harrison - George's last big solo hit - which is actually one of my least favorite songs from his Cloud 9 album. I prefer the ones he wrote. This was an oldie by one Rudy Clark.

10. Ezekiel 25:17 - The "great vengeance and furious anger speech" from Pulp Fiction, from the opening scenes of the film. What a track to end on. I think I'd best be going now.

Cue "Surf Rider" by The Lively Ones ...