Buckethead & Ol' Dirty Bastard

I was listening to Enter The Wu-Tang this morning and when "Shame On A Nigga" came on it made me think of only one person:

Buckethead.

Contrary to assumptions put forth the mountains of fan mail I try so desperately to read all of but sometimes can't because I have to concentrate on the ones from the really needy kids, (How needy? Tsunami-needy.) I haven't always been a semi-professional blogger and tennis champion. My most recent former employer was a online retailer for band merchandise (read: swag). What's that you ask? Were there perks? Oh yeah, there were perks - Cheap Trick wristbands, collectible Dave Matthews Band race cars, Carlos Santana votive candles - you name it.

But the best perk of all, the one that always got me really perky and helped me to feel like I was making a difference by providing an extremely small number of clinically-hardcore fans with a way to get what they really wanted - I helped run the Buckethead Store. For all of you non-Bucketheadheads out there, he's a guitar-shredder who wears a KFC bucket on his head and a mask over his face, and was most notably the guitar player on the failed G'n'R comeback tour. An excerpt from his bio speaks more about the man:

"One night, after he got to be this tall, somebody threw a bucket of fried chicken into the coop. Try as he might, Buckethead couldn't put the chicken back together again. So he put the bucket on his head, picked up his guitar and ran to the cemetery.

Buckethead was real sad but it seemed like he played guitar better than ever. All the grey people and angels in the cemetery listened to the music and it was so beautiful they just stood still and speechless. He figured the spirits of all the fried chickens he ever knew were channeling into him through the bucket, and he played until he collapsed.

Well it prob'ly won't surprise you to hear that eventually the sun came up and the rooster crowed. And some folks say Buckethead had chicken grease and barbecue sauce smeared around the mouth hole on his mask. Whatever happened that night, the bucket stayed on his head, and in the morning it was filled full of chicken bones."

Honestly, I can't stand BH's music, with the exception of.........wait........no, it's all terrible. The dub project is bad, the numerous shred projects are bad. The Viggo Mortensen stream of consciousness record is "is-that-blathering-idiot-the-famous-actor?" funny-bad, but only for about 47 seconds and then it journeys deep in to the realms of terrifying-bad. But I have always believed that music is the last true safe haven for the criminally insane, and Buckethead, and apparent safety of those around him, made me feel that was true. Meaning I was right.

I'll leave you with my favorite Buckethead moment: The day Ol' Dirty Bastard died, the front page of Bucket's website was all black and read, "Buckethead was very sadden by the death of ODB and did a tribute to ODB".

Here is that tribute.

'War of the Worlds' Is Good

Says Stephen Hunter, and not until he affirms the goodness of a movie will I pay money to see it in a theatre. Likewise, if he determines that the movie is filled with badness, Danny, it shall not be seen by these eyes. This has been the case for the past four or five years, and happily-spent my movie dollar has been.

Oh, and I heard that they added an extra scene to a sort-of blopper reel during the credits right before the movie was releases. It's apparently way at the end of the credits...so I'll spare you having to sit through them.

Vladimir Putin Gets What He Wants and Does Not Say 'здравствулте!'

Apparently, Robert Kraft, owner of your Superbowl Champion New England Patriots, got his 2005 Championship ring lifted by Russian President Vladimir Putin.

"...Kraft showed the ring to Putin — who tried it on, put it in his pocket and left..."

Just by looking at how mad ol' Vlad is at himself in the picture below, in addition to the fact that he has a black belt in judo and still has the firing codes to at least a hundred nuclear missles (which, when coupled with the fact that Russian leaders have a bad history of going crazy from syphllis, makes you wonder how safe your stadium (read: state) is after your meeting, ring or no ring) makes you probably say, to Putin's back, "That's cool, man. You keep it."

Stupid F*cking Dell...

Sorry campers...the PC swiped all my Firefoxes at once, including the one where I was telling you, the wookie, about my brunch at Rapture, and it's time for me to go.

Tomorrow, kids. Until then, the doctor prescribes another viewing of the Tom Cruise v. Matt Lauer on the Today Show video, again.

Pete on MJ

Remeber how I said that I really liked piling on? Normally I'm able to separate the actions of my heroes from the enforcement of my otherwise airtight morals.

Pete Townshend called Michael Jackson "something of an angel".

Since I know Pete's reading the 'Mania today (it is Friday, after all) I would now like to speak directly to him:

Dude...come on...you wrote Tommy. You wrote Who's Next. I know - you're the sensitive artist, but take a lesson from ol' Rog and grow a pair:

When asked asked Who bass player John Entwistle's death in 2003 - "Ask any man what he would prefer--to live to a ripe old age and die alone or to go out shagging your b-lls off with strippers in Vegas? Come on, let's be honest. It's not a death that any man should be ashamed of."

You used to be one of the most quotable figures in the history of rock and roll, and now you're going to let the stuttering pretty boy out-quote you? Buck up, old man.

Perhaps Pete doesn't have all the facts from the trial...

Holy Sh*t. Tom Cruise Is Completely Insane

Dude.

I love pile on. I really do.

Based on that, I'm having the time of my life watching this Tom Cruise interview from The Today Show.

Pull up, Maverick. Pull up, dude.

Brunch - Shebeen Better

I thought this brunch thing was getting easy.

The past two weeks have yielded a 4 of 5 (Mono Loco), and a 4.5 of 5 (Cassis). It's always nice when you find your work to be enjoyable. I do hope to maintain my relative anonymity, though I am realistic. It is rather difficult to do, what with the tallness and the fur.

This week's brunchscapdes occured at Shebeen, which is located in the corner lot of a shopping center near downtown Charlottesville. I traveled with Dr. von Slantensteiner, who was trying to recover from a night spent deciding whether to stand in the grass or the on walkway of our friend's front lawn. Having ended the evening without finding his balance, there was a tangible need for moral support. I think that I was there for him, but it's tough to tell. He's half-Indian.

We arrived and immediately sat at the bar, as we both wanted to get right to the point, and the bartendress was not unattractive. It would turn out that she had apparently traded a head of pretty blond hair and a very cute smile for the ability to hear what anyone was saying and an idea of what she was doing, but more on that later...

(Bloody: 2 of 5) Bland. Severed in a 12 - 16 oz. glass with a celery stalk and and two olives. The consistency was good but there was nothing distinct, or distinctly good, about it. There is, however, a play-doctor-with-your-bloody bar equipped with celery salts, horseradish, pepperocini, and almost any other accoutrement you could think of. This is a great idea, but I've got a better one - Make a better bloody, buddy. It's Sunday. I'm a tired little ball of fur at this point.

Water upon request.

(Benedict: 3.5 of 5) The benedict came relatively quickly and was presented wonderfully on a large plate with a piece of asparagus draped across each egg. The tarragon-hollandaise sauce was excellent, but there wasn't enough of it on the eggs, which were perfectly poached. Each was individually covered in the sauce, and there was none more, meaning the muffin didn't soak, leaving it a bit tough. Mi amigo got the Eggs Neptune, which substituted salmon for ham, and were quite delicious.

When we ordered from the above-mentioned waitress-turned-barkeep, she asked us what sides we wanted. F*ck that. See above mention of it being Sunday. Who knows if my choice of the pub potatoes where what made the beney less than a 5 of 5? Note to owner / manager: It's your restaurant. Figure out you are going to serve, call it your "menu", list it on a piece of paper, and serve it to your customers.

(Service: 3 of 5) It was the after-brunch that redeemed our little princess. Water was consistantly filled, ashtrays were emptied, and the check came promptly and without pressure. She was, at every turn, as polite as she could possibly br, but lacked experience and proper training to be a true brunchtender.

(Price: 1 of 5) $41.78 for two bloodys, two beneys (one was $2 more for salmon) and a $2.50 cup of coffee. Left $50.00 ($8.22 or 19.7%)

$10.95 for an Eggs Benedict is unacceptable. Thank god for my slowly-waning state of alertness, as $2.50 for drip coffee has certainly led to people's arms being ripped out of their sockets; wookies have been known to do that. There was nothing to munch on before the meal arrived, either. The bloody mary was only $6, but see above for its lack of spectacularness.

(Overall: 2 of 5) If you are looking for somewhere with good food, and good-enough service on a Sunday morning, Shebeen may be the place for you. Dr. S and I had planned to go to The Omni, but we were told brunch was over, and looked like a buffet, anyways. Buffets tend to upset wookies. Wookies then tend to upset buffets.

If you missed my first brunch review, please, don't think that the author would rather trash a sh*tty brunch than recommend a great one. I love brunch - but I am willing to sacrifice, so that you, gentle reader, might have better brunch in the days ahead.

The one thing that could have saved Shebeen from all of the above is a former member of None of The Above, my father, SuperKing of All Wookies. While the tremendous value that I find in eating out on a Sunday morning may seem foreign to him, I hope that he sees himself in every well-turned phrase I use to describe it.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Next year, let's do brunch.

Sheeben South African Pub & Braai is located in the Vinegar Hill Shopping Center. (Click here for directions)
Phone: 434.296.3185
Website: www.shebeenpub.com

King of All Wookies vs. Head Honcho Hippie

So - Bob Lefsetz is a former entertainment industry lawyer and the author of The Lefsetz Letter. Should you follow the above link want to receive the letter, you will be sent a (sometimes twice) daily rant about / insider's look at the current state of the music industry. From Celebrity Access:

Bob Lefsetz, Santa Monica-based industry legend, is the author of the e-mail newsletter, "The Lefsetz Letter". Famous for being beholden to no one, and speaking the truth, Lefsetz addresses the issues that are at the core of the music business: downloading, copy protection, pricing and the music itself.

His intense brilliance captivates readers from Steven Tyler to Rick Nielsen to Bryan Adams to Quincy Jones to music business honchos like Michael Rapino, Randy Phillips, Don Ienner, Cliff Burnstein, Irving Azoff and Tom Freston.

I don't know about all of that fawning, unless "intense brilliance" is code for "ability and willingness to use UPPERCASE letters as his ONLY means of EMPHASIS.

I get the letter and read almost every one I get. Friday of last week, this little gem popped up in a letter about The Mars Volta.

"Fans want to be touched, fans want to be moved. And no
band (The Mars Volta) has reached its fans like this since...maybe the Grateful Dead.

"Oh, don't talk to me about Phish. Don't talk to me about the Dave Matthews Band. Those are frat rock bands. They're made for people wearing Timberlands, for people with money, having one last hurrah on Daddy's money before they've got to enter the real world. They don't have that one key element of rock and roll. Darkness." (Read the entire letter here)

What kind of monarch would I be if I didn't take personal offense to that statement? How could I peer through tufts of hair at myself in the mirror with anything but disgrace if I didn't stick up for my subjects? The King of All Wookies does not take being compared to a fan of The Dave Matthews Band by a bald hippie lying down*.

"...generalizing the Phish fanbase (incorrectly) has always been people's favorite way to come after them. Of course a good deal of the kids out there are on break from college, and dad's Amex is putting gas in the Grand Cherokee, there are far more wookies (the patchwork hippies) and young-corporate-types who, after spending thirteen of a possible fourty-five hours a week at the office emailing and reading message boards, could manage to turn two days off anda weekend into five nights of music." ( Read all responses here)

Yo, Bob - You ain't never been to Deer Creek, don't ever come to Deer Creek.


*The entire response was featured in a list-only email, and does not appear on the Lefsetz Archive Page.

The Future of (Newgrass) Music

Will be appearing in Charlottesville tonight (Friday, 6.17) at Starr Hill Music Hall.

Old School Freight Train has been around as long as I've been in town, and they've always been the serious ones, the ones that took their music REAL seriously, the ones who stuck it out through a couple personnel changes and dry spells with gigs, and have come out ready and firing. They're all smokin' hot pickers, but amongst them, the banjo-ist Ben Krakauer will blow your mind the furthest from your shoulders.

Between them and King Wilkie we've got some of the best new and old bluegrass in the country.

They're fresh off touring with David Grisman and doing an album with his label, Acoustic Disc Records. Check it out:

I always knew Santa Claus was a Jewish hippie. See you at the Hill, wookie!

Pavilion Update in Pictures

For all of my hemming and hawing about the Charlottesville Pavilion, and its seemingly impossible-to-meet construction deadlines, I've yet to show you what a disaster the site is.

No more:



(Thanks to The HooK for the picture, click on the link for their latest story on the gigantic hole in the ground.)

The Future of Music

Well, at least as seen through the eyes of Sysop and Ted Dancing, is Pants, Pants, Pants.

"Their unending list of exploits include a man- sized otter reciting spoken word, vocal parts cell phoned in from a singer in the audience, and a cover of the video for "Mmmm mmmm mmmm mmmm" by Canada's beloved Crash Test Dummies."

Click on the "media" link at the bottom of their site, and you can sample four tunes off their brand new CD - Pop Songs to Make Us Famous.

Play "Squeeze It" and you will dance.

Play"Hovercraft Traffic Music" and you will remember an old friend, his younger sister, and why you haven't talked to your friend in a while.

Play "Dance" and you will squeeze it.

See your future. Be your future.

\/\/ WELCOME TO THE BRAND NEW AND VASTLY IMPROVED WOOKIEMANIA \/\/

You're home now.

Pavilion Update: Interview with Man Working Construction for The Charlottesville Pavilion

Intrepid Wookie Reporter: "Say man, off the record, is this thing gonna be done by July 30th?"

Anonymous Construction Worker: "Sh*t nah, man. They still gotta (points) put that thing up an..........sh*t nah, man. Ain't no f*ckin' way."

IWR: "Thanks."

The Golden Ticket or Episode III - Redemption of the Graham'd

"If revenge is a dish best served cold, I've got to know, Martha: How long should I leave my redemption in the oven?"

Well, first you must remember that things happen for a reason. Things like betrayal at the hands of a former drummer who smeared your colorful narrative all over the pages of a once-struggling local weekly newspaper. That article turned out to be a big hit and helped improve circulation for the paper.

My ire over that incident, until now manifesting itself as a poorly-told story with watermelon-sized holes, has become "a taught, well-cited must-read for the 2005 summer blockbuster season"- USA TODAY. It also made me read and re-read the article that James Graham wrote three years ago, and it's really good. This wookie would like to write like that some day.

I also got a chance this morning to shake Brian Fox's hand as his first customer at his new store. This meant a good deal to me, as I always thought of Brian as an excellent boss to all of his employees, and I don't think that sentiment came across in The Hook in 2002. Bodo's is a fantastic place to eat and to work, and I am still close with a good deal of the staff to this day, becuase of that.

As I was leaving, I looked for my camp-out gear, which Brian told me was out back. Next to the trash. Where he had put it. We got a good picture together for the paper. We even answered a couple questions. Together.

So, now, I will bury the phrase.

After saying it one last time.

F*ck you, James Graham.

THE END

Congratulations to Brian Fox and everyone at the Corner Bodo's. Except for those chump-assed members of the staff who await a most vengeful and purient demolishment this fall in Football Frenzy IV.

Here it is, wookies. My proof.

I'm #1

Yes, ladies and gentlemen...it is The King of All Wookies, the good Doctor himself, that possesses the ticket from the first order ever at the Corner Bodo's.

I will shortly post the #1 ticket, from 7:01AM. I may save one or two of the two dozen bagels, you know, to throw at cars, but the rest are a feast that I invite all to attend.

The hole story will also be posted later in the day, but I have selected an excerpt from the memoir that I am especially pleased with:

"F*ck you, James Graham."

Late-night Lindsay Lohan

So, I guess the editors of Elle Magazine don't read The Superficial...

I do. Every day.

And I saw the Elle cover in a convenience store. Buying lighter fluid and whole milk. Got it?


(Thanks to SuperiorPics for the cover image.)

Welcome Back, Little Piggy

Having recovered from whatever seriously debilitating condition it was that kept him from putting finger to keyboard, it looks like PigJamboree is back to somewhat-regular posting.

Look for excellent reviews of mediocre wine and check the archives for some of the funniest leading-up-to-the-election writing that is now very sad.

Bodo's. Corner. Open. Tomorrow.

You had better sure as sh*t believe that I'm gonna try to be the first one in there, too.

And you know what I'm gonna say as I bite down into that #1 bagel?

(You do, don't you, faithful reader. You know that I'm gonna say:)

"F*ck you , James Graham."

Be there to witness it at 7:00AM on Wednesday, June 15th.

Michael Jackson

I just thought that we should take a look at some King of Pop pictures that have been sent to me today.

Together. With some Jesus juice.

Your boss won't mind. Tell him / her that it's like the day after the OJ verdict when you went home and cut your ex-wife's head off.

WARNING!!!!!!: The second of the two images contains profanity.

And while we're talking about the 2nd one, don't you think that Mike could have found a "No fat chicks" sign and, you know, changed the "chicks" to "8 year-old boys"?

OK. The first is a shot of Jacko and "Blanket" where the formerly accused is being told the joke, "What's the best thing about having sex with an eight year-old girl in the shower?"