Thursday, March 8, 2012

Why I Hate The Eagles

THE EAGLES...




So, I may be in the minority here, but I doubt it.  I think secretly some of you agree with me.  You may not want to admit, but it doesn't make it false.  When certain songs come on the radio, you turn the station.  And more often than not, those songs are by the Eagles.



I, personally, hate The Eagles.  Not all of them, not as individuals.  I rather like Joe Walsh, he is from Cleveland, after all.  His solo work, his work with the James Gang, his appearances on the Drew Carey Show.  All excellent work.  Seems a fun guy, doesn't take himself very seriously.  But then again, I can't understand what he's saying half the time.  Have you heard an interview with him recently? 



And Glenn Frey.  When he was in Miami Vice?  He was great.  "Smuggler's Blues" is a great song, and an even better 80's video.  Seems like a good guy, someone you'd have a beer with.  And nobody looks better with a five o'clock shadow, posing as a drug smuggler, standing in front of a dilapidated airplane.  May have been the highlight of his acting career, but what a highlight!




Don Henley?  Meh.  He's best known for the praiseworthy "Boys of Summer", laudable charity work with the Waldo Woods Project, and the forgettable and regretable "All She Wants To Do Is Dance".  Plus he's an unsufferable bore.  Something about this guy chaps my hyde.  Seems like he's a jerk for some reason.  And that reason?  See this quote when someone dared mention that wine isn't a spirit (in reference to Hotel California).

"My only regret would be having to explain it in detail to you, which would defeat the purpose of using literary devices in songwriting and lower the discussion to some silly and irrelevant argument about chemical processes."

So, he's an asshole.




And who could forget the other guy...  (I know his name, but why show off...)



But The Eagles as a whole...I find them overdone.  Trite.  Cliche.   Turn on any classic rock station and I dare you to go ten songs straight before The Eagles come on.  Now, I get Led Zepellin every ten songs.  That's classic rock.  The Beatles?  The Stones?  Of course.  Throw Pink Floyd in, and you've got the Final Four of classic rock.  But after those four, the pool is diluted.  There is a big difference between the big four, and anyone else that follows. 

"Their music is iconic", some would say.  "They are singable songs that everyone know", others chime in.  "It reminds me of when I was growing up" many would quip.

A.  If iconic means a slow blend of rock and country, I'd have to agree with this.  I'd even agree that their music pleases the masses.  But is that a goal?  To please the masses?  But remind you, religion wasn't truly the opiate of the masses, sorry Mr. Marx.  (That's Karl Marx, not Richard Marx, because that is a whole different conversation).  I'd say that having broad based commercial approval is not something you look for when one is composing music.  Some people are looking for fame and fortune, others just want to play music.  I think the Eagles get penalized for their success.  Especially by me.

B.  Singable is for Elmo.  Singable seems to work for children's music, hymnals, and commercial jingles.  I want to think about music.  I want to notice nuance.  I want to be drawn to the music for reasons I cannot explain.  I don't want something that the voice in the back of my mind sings.  I want to sing it to the top of my lungs, or it least under my breath so my wife and kids don't notice. 

C.  You know what music I remember from growing up?  One grandmother singing polkas - "I don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for me."  Clever little ditty. The other grandmother sings Ronnie Milsap - "Rocky Mountain Rain".  Nothing like a little crossover country to set a young man's mind at ease.  Hell, I grew up with the Bee Gees playing.  Who cares about the music you heard growing up.  it was mostly crap.  I mean seriously, how bad was 80's music? 


Still not convinced by my vitriol?   Here's a top ten list (averaged out from 10 lists I pseudo-scientifically researched online).  Seriously, it sucks.



10.  Take it easy - First of all, seriously, who has seven women on their mind?  And how is this a problem.  If you are getting that much tail, what are you worried about?  I'm trying to remember if I ever had the opportunity to think about 3 women at one time.  Nope, never happened before.  Secondly, who's ever seen a hot girl, in a flatbed Ford, in Winslow Arizona?   Who's been to Winslow, Arizona????  I bet people from Winslow haven't even been to Winslow.


9. Peaceful Easy Feeling - Who likes sparkling earrings?  Who looks at earrings?   Ridiculous.  Ever sleep in a desert?  it's freaking cold.  This song is slow, methodical and dull.  Jameson gives me a peaceful, easy feeling as I'm holding down the couch, or as I sleep in a hammock on the beach.  Are the Eagles writing all their songs for women?  Maybe that's something I missed.  All of their songs are for chics. 




8.  Witchy Woman - "Wooo hooo witchy woman"?   wooo hooo is a train whistle, or the beginning line of "Take the Money and Run" from Steve Miller.  Don't get me started on Steve Miller.  This song has great meaning from a Seinfeld sense, but not in a real music sense.  Is it a Halloween song, or isn't it?  And I'm coming around on the theory that all of their song's are written for women...



7. Best of my love - So let me get this straight.   After "Take it Easy" we go with three straight slow songs?  It's not my list (well actually it is) but I'll use it to my advantage.  It is impossible to waste your time on cheap talk AND wine.  You can waste your time on cheap talk, I'll give you that...  but not wine.  Wine makes everything better.  Unless it's Mad Dog 20/20 Grape Flavor, which is as close to wine as I got in college.  And it usually made me pass out and wake up on the roof with some sort of rash on my neck.  But enough about college memories. 



6.  One of These Nights  - Isn't this yet another slow song?   How many is this?  I've had three Jameson since I heard a song with a beat.  Searching for the daughter of the devil himself?  Try my ex.  Searching for an angel in white?  Why?  You'll likely spill your drink, stain the white, and she'll leave the bar with another guy.  Just sayin'.   Another "woooohoooo" in here.  I'm thinking that they got board writing and added some ooh's and ahh's to fill the space between crappy lyrics and slow strumming.




5.   Take it to the Limit - It's a slow song?  No kidding.  What's going on here?  "You can spend all your time making money, You can spend all your love making time"   Ok, I spend all of my time making money, or at least trying to.  Isn't this the American dream?  How can you spend all of your love making time?  What the hell does this mean?  I'm baffled. It's yet another song that is written to/for a woman.  I think I've stumbled upon the fact that all Eagles songs were an attempt to get laid.   I'm sure this is a song about a guy looking for a girl at last call.  He's out of options and he's willing to "take it to the limit" by finding an ugly chick.  A solid 4 to take home, and pray she leaves before morning.  Better yet, go to her place and avoid the 13 cat's that inevitably live there.





4.  Lyin' Eyes - I give up.  Seven frickin' slow songs in a row.  WTF.  I'm seeing a trend here now.  Anyone else?  Did Kenny Rogers write this?  It sounds like Conway Twitty.  And look at them brooding on the cover of the single.  Is that Black Sabbath, or the Eagles?  They look like they are going to start a bar fight.  Or dress in leather for an S&M bar.  The song is about a woman who cheats.  But doesn't go anywhere.  No one seems to be blamed, nothing happens.  She leaves her husband, who appears to know, and visits her lover.  And nothing happens.  "Hey Joe", that's a song about cheating.  And resolution.  I'm not advicating violence, especially murder, but it certainly makes the song more interesting.



3. Life in the Fast Lane - Ok, finally here we are.  A song you can sink your teeth into.  Drugs, women, parties.   This is the quintessential party song.   I liked this song when I was 13 years old, it was that cool.  And it's still cool today.  I means seriously, we mention popping pills and lines (of blow) on the mirror.  Great guitar riff, driving beat...  I dare you not to push the speed limit just a little while listening to this song.  "Doctor say's he's coming but you gotta pay in cash"?  Who HASN'T been in that situation before? 



2. Desperado - Wow.  We went from driving forceful song, to a song that is so slow it practically goes backwards.  You know the secret messages in this song when it's played backwards?   The lyrics are "Desperado, why don't you come to your senses".  That's how slow it is.  And look at the cover photo for the single.  My family took one of these photos in Gatlinburg one year, novelty shot of us all dressed like cowboys.  It wasn't cool when I was 15, and it's not cool for a rock n' roll band.  Ever.  The only band that should dress up, ever, is KISS.  or Mini KISS.


1. Hotel California - I struggle with this.  Good song, smart lyrics.  Poetic even.  But...  Can a song truly be great if someone covers it and the cover is better?  The Gipsy Kings recorded a version of Hotel California and it's fast, peppy and upbeat.   It's just a great all around effort.  Plus, it's featured in the Big Lebowski.  So that counts for something.   I like this song, it's filled with great imagery.  This song has depth.  Is it about heaven and hell?  Is it about the American Dream consuming us?   Is it about Los Angeles?  Avarice, waste, abuse, indulgence?   I'd say yes, to all those things.  But when we get right down to it, can a song be great if the original is not as good as a cover???  


So, in review.   Their top ten songs, and only two don't suck.  I call that damning evidence convincing me now more than ever of just how guilty the Eagles are of sucking.  I'd change probably 9 of these songs if they were to come on the radio right now.  Maybe 10, unless the Gipsy Kings are on.




(By the way, the fourth guy is Timothy B. Schmit.  couldn't help but mention it)




Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Random Top Seven List of 2011

I had some thoughts based on my 2011 travel.

So why not a Top Seven List...



Yucatan Peninsula

1. Best Presidents Club...

So let's be honest.  I'm starting with this because I've become a travel snob.  I like elite this, quicker line there, upgrades, frequent flyer miles.  And for anyone that travels as much as I do, a Presidents Club pass is a MUST. Thank you Kelly for turning me on to this. Leather seats, free drinks, accessible outlets for charging. What else could you ask for?

Winner is... Cleveland.
Home room wins by a nose. Clean, comfy and convenient. Good service and accessible to most gates. It's the only way to spend the inevitable delay during the winter, and during the random summer storms.

Close second.... Newark.
Elevated view above the cattle, unique work space.

Worst... O'Hare. They charge for drinks. Damning.




2. Best unmanly drink...

Tough choice here. Every night another bar/restaurant. And it's hard to mess up Jameson. But, if you must drink something else...

Winner is... Bonefish. Fayetteville NY. Lemon drop martini. (must get on the rocks with not fruit or sugared rim. Gotta be a man, in spite of the fact that it's not a manly drink.). Plus, the service here is impeccable. Ashley, Kelcie, Kate- you can't go wrong. It's like Cheers. Everyone knows your name.   And try the Bang Bang Shrimp...

Close second...  Smirnoff Ice.   Walking down the middle of Las Vegas Blvd, 10pm, struggling to make it to midnight, New Year's Eve.   This stuff was refreshing and perfect.  Besides, walking down the street with a jug of Jameson is obnoxious.  Even for me.  Well..not  that obnoxious.





3. Best appetizer ...

Easy choice here. A local establishment that serves a non-tradional twist on a typical app

Winner is... Cheesesteak egg roll, Dublin Square Pub, Cherry Hill, NJ. An egg roll. With cheesesteak inside. With cheese to dip it in.  Wow.  End of story.

Second place...  If you are ever in Erie, PA, and God knows everyone gets here sometime...  head down to the Bayfront Sheraton.  Great hotel, amazing view, for a nothing sort of town.  They have mussels in a white wine and garlic broth.  Amazing.  Extra points for view and the fact that you wouldn't expect this from a Sheraton.





4. Best bar...

Tough, tough decision here. But based on some good advice, with ten hours to kill BEFORE a red-eye, Yo Adrien directed me to...

Winner is... McMenamins -White Eagle, Portland OR. Tucked in the middle of nowhere, spent several hours on the patio reading. The band was playing by 4pm on a Wednesday. Great covers, good music. The least I could do was buy their CD.  They wanted $10, and I gave them $20.  Generous Squires strikes again.   I listen to it in the Jeep all summer long.

Second place...  Winking Lizard, Coventry. We've spent every other Sunday during football season here for ten years.  Loyalty and good service, do still count for something.  Now if they had just kept the Golden Tee machine.




5. Best beach bar...

Discounting my honeymoon (see below), I don't see many beaches in my travels. But I did get to San Diego. And it has nothing to do with a whale's vagina.

Winner is... 710 Beach Club. Great bloody Mary. Amazing people. And the BEST FISH TACOS ever. Trust me. I've had a few.   It's an odd sort of bar though, with deep roots to Chicago.  Bears and Cubs stuff everywhere, so for a boy from the Midwest, it felt just a little bit like home (in the beautiful sunlight, warm temperatures and did I mention sunlight, in January!).



Erie PA.  (no really, it is...)



6. Best (surprising) view ...

I'll go with the surprising view because I get some places sometimes.

Winner is... Sheraton Bayfront Erie.  Nobody ever wants to be in Erie, PA.  I've found no evidence to the contrary.  But if one gets stuck there, make your way through the dirty, decrepid downtown, towards the Bayfront.   There is a halfway decent seafood restaurant, a better than average beach type bar, and a damn surprising Sheraton Hotel.  I've stayed here enough to get to know the General Manager and let me tell you, it's amazing hospitality always.  All of that would make it a pretty good spot to hang out on a summer day, even without the spectacular view.





7. Best honeymoon experience

I've had two (so far) and they were both Caribbean, St. Lucia and the USVI. 

Winner... Morningstar Charters.  Though I had thoroughly planned the surprise our honeymoon, leave it to Jen to find the hidden jewel of our adventure together.  Sitting at a bar in Charlotte Amelie, USVI, Jen (my lovely wife) mentioned that someone she went to high school ran a charter down here somewhere.  Enter Captain Mike Roses and the Morningstar.  A day and half of sailing around, to St John and back, drinking Painkillers...  Our best memories of the trip were on that boat.

Second place...   nothing comes close.


SO there are my Top Seven thoughts from the last year of travel.  Been to a lot of places, met a lot of people, drank a lot of Jameson.  I'm sure I'll have more.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Shutting off your mind

Shutting off your mind

Trauma. Stress. Unexpected occurrences.

These cloud the brain, confuse you with thoughts, reactions. People deal with it in different ways. Some with tears, others with anger. Some are patient, they want to assess the situation, proceed with caution.

I lean more towards action. Quick, decisive, early decisions. For better or worse, this is what is built into my DNA. I'm not cocksure, certainly not a hero. Many of my reactions are wrong. Assumptions sometimes are made that are not my place. But in the grand scheme of things, this can be ok. These decisions were made with the best intentions.

Sunday at 7am my cell rings. It's mom. This can't be good, especially at this hour. My grandmother has suffered what is only described as a massive heart attack. I must get to FL to be with her, to help the family. I pack haphazardly, not thinking, not planning. Yet I know, I've got what I need.

I'm in an odd position as the eldest grandchild. Not quite adult, not quite child, odd juxtaposition, even at 37. What help cam I be, why am I going? Just the sense that I need to be there.

arrive at the airport, find my Mom. I just realized that this is the first time we've ever flown together. Once in my seat, the tears finally flow. First moment in two hours that I've thought, not simply reacted. The support from work is overwhelming.

"do what it takes, we've got you covered "

Land in TPA, grab an uncle. A cousin drives us north, with no news. Or at least none good. un Still the same. May not live the night.

Hospital. Small, satellite southern hospital. ICU. Nothing prepares me for this.



My grandmother was a kind sharp fun woman. She told me some of the best dirty jokes I know. Taught me to cook, more accurately cooked with a passion that I desperately wanted to duplicate. For her cooking was love, a way she showed it. A way she brought us all together. She made each and every one of us feel special in our own way. She was a confidant but would also gossip about everyone else. Somehow you trusted her, fully knowing she'd share what you told her. It never mattered.

Most of all she was willful. From my early teens she treated me like an adult. Spoke to me like one. Chided me when I was acting foolish, or immature. She was clear about she felt about everything. Especially death. No machines keeping her alive. No alzheimers. No wheelchair. No diminished quality of life. Don't mourn. Smile, know she's in a better place. Most of all, toast her. Have a party. No mourning. No tears.

So to walk in and see the machine. My heart fell. She was breathing on a ventilator. Her head was tossing and turning as seizures racked her body. Her eyes, open. As if she was frantically looking for help. We attempt to calm her, to make her see us. But the movement is involuntary, we are told. Her brain was without oxygen for too long. I swear she can see us, but I secretly pray that she cannot. It's too painful. For her. And us.

It's Alice in Wonderland. Everyone has their role. Mom is the rock, gathering info, creating consensus, making decisions. Dennis is the passion. His anger fuels our questions until we get satisfactory answers. Al is the spiritual one. Knowing its somehow God's plan, not letting us lose perspective. Denise is our cheer. Quick to laugh, first to hug, hold a hand. And I'm the worker. Hunger sets in, I grab subway for all. Where's everyone going to sleep? I go home set up the rooms and the air mattresses. Sheets blankets pillows, and hopefully rest for all. No one wants to leave on night three? I'll make a pasta and bring it for everyone to eat. We need hospice? I'll make the call, coordinate the meeting.

I don't remember doing these things specifically. The brain takes over and solves situations.

At 221pm, on 2-2-12, at the Hospice House in Citrus County, she finally drifted away peacefully. 48 hours later, I'm at the airport headed home. Finally with time to think. But I don't really want to.  Or more specifically, I can't.  It's feelings, pictures, moments in time.

What, if anything, did I learn? Will I learn more with perspective? With time?  It gets easier, right?

I ponder this over a beer, and a Jameson.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Start

I'm the guy reading at the bar.  You know you've seen me.  You've wondered, maybe laughed or pointed.  "Who sits and reads at a bar?" 

Well, it's me.  It's usually because I'm in a town for work.  Couple days at the most.  Sales, as you probably guessed. 

Hotel rooms bore me.  They are mostly, all the same.  With the exception of the view in Voorhees, NJ vs. the view in Boyertown, PA...there are very few changes.  I used to wake up in the morning, with slight anxiety, and definite confusion as to where I was.  Now I wake up with a certain calm, and time to let my eyes adjust and figure out just where the heck I am. 

Window on the left, wall on the right.  Where’s the bathroom.  There’s the folio that was slid under the door.  Gotta make sure I attach that to the expense report…

So what is this blog?   Instead of reading at the bar, I'd rather write at the bar.  At the airport.  In the hotel.

A travel log.  Random musings.

Humorous (to me) thoughts/views/observations on life, traveling and America as a whole. 

Pictures will be included. 

Mostly of scenery, cocktails or food, and three fingers of Jameson.