The Continuing Saga of Tuna in the Home

Tuna has taken on important aspects in the leftystrat household; affecting both the bipeds and the quadrupeds.

One of the tasty ways to cut down on red meat is with fish.  We're all getting into tuna in both forms: canned and filets.  Filets are great because you can spice the hell out of them and cook them in a non-stick pan with no added fat.  And yes, it tastes great.

The serious furor in the household, however, surrounds tuna of the canned variety.  This is used for all sorts of things, like tuna salad (no, really?).  Another main use is to put it on salad to make it more interesting.  And let's face it - there's little one can do to make salad less interesting.

And when I say salad, I mean salad as [insert deity] intended it: mainly iceburg lettuce that comes from a bag.   By all means, add in some high-calorie, high-fat dressing while you're at it.  My wife prefers this horrible-tasting, very pretty salad (arrest that woman for attempted salad!), which I refer to as looking like someone mugged a flower garden.

So thus far we have learned that both salad and tuna come from the same place: the grocery store.

But wait - there's more!   For reasons I probably prefer not to remember, we drain the water from the tuna and put it in the cat's bowl with some dry food.  He eats it in less time than it took to pour into the bowl.

The dog, however, is loath to miss out on anything his sibling gets.  He still wishes he was an only child.  As soon as he discovered tuna water, he went insane.  Yes, some would say the disorder preceeded the water but let's not quibble, ok?  Marshall's favorite thing in the world is cat food.  In fact, he was given an American Indian name when he was little (Smells Like Cat Food).  The theory here is that tuna smells like cat food, so that's why he's ok with it.  Now we pour it over his food too.

This is all well and good but you have no idea what it's like around the old homestead involving the simple but important device known to all as the can opener.  Animals don't do too well with the abstract so they have no idea that when they hear the can opener, it could be opening something that is not tuna.  As soon as the familiar noise starts, both of them fly into the kitchen, in record time, to stand around the magic can opener, as someone is obviously opening some tuna for them.

The cat is quietly annoying, rubbing against me, trying to trip me, and ramming his nineteen pounds repeatedly into my leg, as if I'm going to forget him or something.  The dog it attempting to sit quietly and failing miserably.  He's so excited that his little stub of a tail is vibrating and he appears to actually be sitting above the floor, having levitated himself an inch or so.  He also makes little excited noises, which is greatly preferrable to ramming his forty pounds into my leg.

At this point there is simply no way to explain to the non-human speakers that this might not be tuna.  Or cat food.  Or even that rad cranberry sauce with the lines around it.  So they get tuna water.  Sometimes I have to open two cans.  Happier pets you have never seen.

Last night it was salad, naturally with tuna.  They did their little dance, got some tuna water and remained completely attentive for about an hour after.  Perhaps they were working on perfecting Tuna Telekinesis, whereby the tuna on my salad lifted itself up and flew into their mouths.  You simply never know with non-human speakers.

Half a can of tuna remained.  Looking at it in retrospect, this was my big mistake (there's that foreshadowing thingy again!).

Tonight I decided to make use of the remaining tuna.  Naturally it was nowhere to be found.  This is because of the unique combination of my innate inability to locate anything and my wife's innate ability to never put things in the same place twice.  So I broke down and asked if she had seen the errant tuna.

I knew I wasn't going to like the answer when she told me, "You're not going to like the answer."

It turns out that even before anyone had a chance to stow the spare tuna, the somewhat furrier of the house's occupants decided they had better uses for it.  I am led to believe that it took the form of what can only be referred to as Tuna Hockey.

The cat was up on the counter, nose-deep in tuna.  When my wife yelled and reached, he passed to the floor and the dog, who quickly and efficiently nosed the tuna tin across the floor while simultaneously emptying it of what he must see as Cat Food of the Gods.  By the time my wife caught him, the can was totally devoid of tuna.  Over in the corner sat two happy pets, busily licking their lips and paws.

Ha ha.

Screw me - I had to open more tuna for my dinner.  Which pretty much set the whole game into play a second time.



NEWS FROM THE TWILIGHT ZONE

The place in which I toil tends to make bad decisions.  In fact, if they could get paid for bad decisions, they'd be the most successful non-profit in history.

One of our extremely bad decisions was around copier/printers.  The hardware to which I refer shall not be mentioned by name (but rhymes with Dannon).  Combine slimy salesmen, clueless techs, and bad hardware and there we were.

Being one of the people who had to work with both the salesmen and my own people, I was in a good position to see how the machines worked out.  And by worked out, I mean didn't work.

I made my frustrations known up the line, figuring the people who make the decisions might benefit from some input.  By that time it didn't come as a surprise when I discovered we had signed a six year contract for these bloody machines.

We suffered through the entire contract.  Email went around every day about which units not to use because they were broken.  The copier technicians must feel the same way Windows technicians feel (they always have a job).

I know I shouldn't have been surprised last week when a whole slate of new machines showed up without notice.  It definitely didn't surprise anyone when the delivery folks didn't have the printer drivers and didn't know how to operate the machinery.

And no one said a thing when it was discovered we signed a new six-year contract.

Taco Bell Abortions?

Speakers made from cow femur?

Bone-rattling sound from ... bone.  No Monster Cable here!

No More Taco Bell Until Abortion Ends

I'm pro-choice but I'm not going to Taco Bell either, in sympathy.

It seems FEMA has pulled some documents from its website, claiming secrecy.

What shouldn't the populace know about continuity of government?  Worth reading.

Obama Nominates Carlyle Group Partner to The Federal Reserve

How much do you need to hear about the Carlyle Group, Halliburton, and the Council on Foreign Relations?  These are the people who are really running things.  A president is in office for four or eight years: these people are around forever (think Kissinger).


Former Sen. Arlen Specter Does Stand-Up at Philly Comedy Club

Jokes included the 9-11 Single Plane Theory and his career.

Floor Chicken and Other Holiday Goings On

I made a chicken sandwich the other day.  I thought it somewhat odd that the chicken from which I was removing meat was upside down but things tend to happen.

Not really all that interesting, you say, and you're right.  It also has absolutely nothing to do with any holiday (especially for the chicken).

PAWT

As anyone with a cat or dog can tell you, wrapping presents is a tedious job on a good day.  If you have pets, it's all downhill from here.

First you have to find a large, flat space in which to lay out the paper and presents.  At this point, the cat needs to come over and install many tiny claw holes in the paper, apparently just for fun.   When you yell, he just kinda looks at you innocently.  It is around this point that he achieves what we like to call Feline Aviation<tm>.

I won't go into detail about how difficult it is to locate a large, flat space.  My house is in a state of Advanced Chaos, with all horizontal spaces filled and a huge waiting list for open space.  Data expands to fill available space and Stuff expands to fill available flat space.

Having removed the section of wrapping paper that the cat personalized, I realized that this particular choice of paper was fairly crappy.  Perhaps the giveaway is the way it rips when I try to unroll it.  I am no Wrapping Paper Expert, which is why I get by with Pet Assisted Wrapping Technology (PAWT).

After having wrapped a small pile of presents, the dog stops by to pay a visit.  I secretly suspect he's judging my (lack of) wrapping prowess but he's always polite.  I watch him scout the area and try to figure out exactly how he's going to help me.  This particular mode of assistance consisted of sitting directly on top of the pile of previously-wrapped presents.  I wonder if he was trying to tell me that I did well.  On the other hand, he could be letting me know that those were the last ones I was allowed to wrap without PAWT.

Several minutes of begging and prompting got him to move to a less destructive spot, but still somewhere he could monitor my progress and help if he judged it to be necessary.

Humans are at a disadvantage when wrapping via only having two appendages for the task.  You can get a box all wrapped but you still need a pair of hands to get a piece of tape.  Doing the math, this makes four necessary appendages.  This doesn't count the extra one required for the tape, which has magically wrapped itself around your thumb.  This must constitute some immutable law of Tape Physics, wherein tape always returns to its native shape (unless you successfully tape something shut, in which case it simply fails to adhere adequately and falls off, exposing the gift).

The Definition of Love

I have a houseguest.  Her brother picks up their aged mother and spends the holidays with her.  Since it was early in the morning, Mom needed help getting dressed.  Brother was not entirely ok with this act so Boyfriend had to descend the steps and help Mom into her bra, panties, and clothes.

My guest and I looked at each other and said, at the same time, THAT'S LOVE.

It All Comes Down to the Chicken?

So lefty - what's Floor Chicken?

Glad you asked.

We're tearing into presents and I hear this strange noise from the kitchen.  It wasn't loud enough to provoke an immediate reaction.  But while continuing to open gifts, it started coming up into consciousness, after which I heard a loud BANG.

I ran into the kitchen to observe my extremely gifted cocker spaniel trying to consume an entire chicken.  He quite correctly reasoned that if he could jump up and knock down the cat food tins, he could perform the same magic with chicken.  He did not wish to be separated from his chicken so a brief battle ensued.  I won (but not for long).

I put the chicken back into its container and into the trash, when suddenly it occurred to me why the chicken was upside down when I went to make myself a sandwich...

Honey... was this the only time the dog got the chicken?

No, he got it before.

Don't you think it would have been a good idea to let me know?

I did.

Ummm..... no.

But I washed it off.

The Ill Wind That Blows

I come to you today on a mission.  A matter of great import.  Something that is not regularly talked about in polite society, therefore is a staple of this blog.

Of course I'm talking about pet farts.

The problem, as I see it, is all about reaction.  Never mind the fact that we fart in the first place - it's just our reaction to it.  Men, probably from birth, are fascinated by farts, not to mention highly amused.  This leads them to pop right up and claim ownership, displaying some sort of perverse pride in the simple act of anal exhalation.

Women are not so proud.  Should some feminine puff manage to escape their dainty sphincters (of which there are over fifty in the human body), they will not so much leap up to assert that this was, in fact, theirs as attain a couple shades of red and apologize for the natural bodily function.

Natural as this is in humans, it is the same in pets.  As you might remember, I have Marshall the cocker and Ren (aka Satan), the nineteen pound tabby.  Both are rather prodigious in the amount (and quality) of gas production.  Any real man would show pride in discovering that their pets are flatulent.  Rather a chip off the old block, no?

Now here's the real issue: dogs and cats have no taboos (or at least any of which they've spoken).  They are neither proud nor embarrassed by their own methane production.  This makes it virutally impossible to figure out, in the words of Charlie Waffles [Two and a Half Men], Who Cut the Cheese?

It is medical fact that any diet change will produce changes in digestion.  Stated another way, if you change Fluffy's food, Fluffy may fart.  Or, in my house, where the dog is powerless over his addiction to cat food, Stereo Flatulence.

The trouble here is figuring out which little beastie made with the methane.  It is especially difficult when they are near each other, on the floor or on the couch.  Of course when they're both on the couch, the matter of which one produced the gas becomes secondary to potential asphyxiation.

The cat has been rather needy lately.  No one knows why.  Neither is content to let the other get any attention, producing yet more issues.  Ren just jumped onto the couch, sat on my mouse, then prodeeded to make himself comfortable on my hand, which was unfortunately attached to said mouse.  Just as he was attaining Kitty Nirvana, the smell became nauseating.

Oh great - we have to change the cat food again, this time due to Noxious Feline Flatulence<tm>.  And I thought he was simply being cute.  Obviously it's all part of his Master Plan to gas out the inhabitants of the house and attain world domination.

Of course I kid: this little bastard refuses to open his own food.  He insists on being served.  He loves his food but will not jump on the counter to eat it.  He will, however, jump on the counter to eat my food.  Mind you, Marshall has figured out how to hit the cat food can the right way so as to cause it to plummet to the floor so he can take it under the table and eat it.  He has quite a collection of empties there.  As best I understand, there is no twelve step program for cat food addiction.  And yes, it makes Marshall toot the old anal horn too.

It would all be much easier if at least one of them would toot his own horn after, well, tooting his own horn.  Can you teach an animal to be proud of his own farts?  There was a South Park episode where the denizens were fond of the smell of their own farts.  Perhaps we need to show it to the pets over and over.


Pets: be proud of your own noxious emissions.

Don't Steal - The Government Hates Competition

Top Argentine official commits suicide at summit

Hey Congress - why can't we get that kind of commitment in the US?

OK Senator Releases New Report on Wasteful Government Spending in 2011

Read this.  It will make you mad.  Then we'll discuss the black budget.

Local Cops Ready for War With Homeland Security-Funded Military Weapons

You paid for the tank that's going to run you over.


Ron Paul: Consistently Pro-life and Pro-liberty

See - he isn't perfect.


U.S. Asks Journals to Censor Articles on Bird Flu Virus

We don't want the terrorists to steal our ideas!

Tiny Little Ubuntu Improvements

I like things the way I like them.  You probably do too.
(what an incredibly silly opening line)

I don't care if the entire universe is repulsed by the way I like my things: this simply indicates that the entire universe is wrong.

Take my operating system(s).  Please.
I prefer my operating systems without noise.  And when I say without noise, I mean not one single sound should be made unless I pushed a button to initiate the sound.  I do not want to hear BOING whenever I hit enter.  I do not need my email client to BING me whenever new mail shows up.  Nor do I require notification in the form of BUNG when a program wants input.   Lastly, at no point in my life would I need a sharp BONK to signal that my operating system has booted.


Let me make an abrupt, unscheduled left and tell you about my absolute favorite Xubuntu (XFCE desktop) setting.  SPLASH SCREEN: NONE.   I think this says everything about why Xubuntu is my linux distribution of choice.  You see, I don't need a splash screen.  Or blinky graphics.  Or transparent overlays.  Or compositing (whatever the hell that is).


My local linux users group (LUG) was discussing this very topic recently.  I weighed in on how I felt that unbidden sounds were heinous, bothersome, violence-provoking and morally wrong.  For once, others agreed.  (I'm simply not used to that.)

In every group, there's one.  In my LUG, there are at least two.  The other one forwarded me a link today on this very topic, titled Ubuntu 12.04: Now with Quieter Logins.  It would seem that after much sound designing and wringing of hands, the Ubuntu login sound has been disabled.

Can I get just a faint Yay! from the crowd?

Thank you.

One of the reasons for killing the sound (killing sounds so much better than disabling, doesn't it?) is that sounds were meant to signal when the operating system was finished booting.  Since real operating systems boot up pretty quickly these days (at least linux does), there's no need for a sound.

I couldn't agree more.

And in true linux fashion, the sound can be enabled if the user can't live without it.  The article did not specify if there was a doctor's note was needed but I don't want to speculate.

Yes, it's the little things.

P.S.  Do not, and I mean never, get me started on the Unity interface.

P.P.S.  The dog is starting to display a fondness for cherry eucalyptus drops.

Why I Am Married

I do all sorts of stock marriage jokes but I want to reinforce that there are good marriages.

Why am I married?

Today I sent my wife an obscene text message, mentioning doing something within an inch of her life.

Her response?

How about within half an inch?

Important Hygiene Update

Jerry Sandusky's excuses started at Nothing, then Horsing Around, and today he explains showering with the young boys as `Lessons in Hygiene.'

Exactly what about serially sodomizing little boys comprises hygiene?


They might as well give this guy a shovel, because he's digging his own grave.

Guitar Truths

This should pass for Guitar Wisdom.  It probably won't, but it should:

• You may have 12 guitars but you have no spare strings.
• Volume is inversely proportional to talent.
• Slides and string-winders are like socks - roughly half of them disappear.
• A $20 tube will protect a $.25 fuse by blowing first.
• A chord occurs in a song.  A cord is used for strangling the singer.
• Vintage amps do not bounce when the old leather handle breaks.
• If you remembered to bring two guitars, you forgot your strap.
• If a string breaks, it will only do so on a floating trem guitar.
• Where is your backup amp?  Back up at practice.
• The odds of your guitar being in tune when you play is inversely proportional to the time you spent tuning it before the set.
• Never solder in shorts.
• Any tube snob will have pedals with transistors in them.
• Where is your whammy bar?  Anywhere but attached to your guitar.
• If you only brought one pick, you will not be able to hold onto it to save your life.
• Where are those people who really wanted to watch you play?  Everywhere but at the gig.
• Remember that hot chick from last set?  She doesn't remember you.
• You're at a new club.  It is raining so hard that cars are floating away.
• That new tune you learned?  The rest of the band didn't.
• Remember: if you turn up, so will he.
• Never (and I emphasize this) never let the drummer's girlfriend (Yoko) sing `just one song' with the band.

More Governmental Turds

Sandusky Attorney: This is a fight to the death.

Works for me.


In the Unlikely Bedfellows category, who else but Penn State wound up on the top of the Catholic Church's xmas card list?  An anonymous official stated that the church wanted to thank Penn State for taking some of the heat off them this holdiday season.


[Iran] 'The Americans have perhaps decided to give us this spy plane'...

US LOSES ANOTHER DRONE, THIS TIME IN SEYCHELLES...


President Giveaway strikes again.  They're probably running Windows.




Obama to slash National Guard force on border...


Yess, LESS border protection and more anal probes, guys!




FBI denies request for info on smartphone spyware...


Because they're using it on US.




Congress considers bill to censor Internet...


Internet considers action to censor Congress...

News You Need to Know but Probably Haven't Seen

Report: Obama, UN to tax US for Green Climate Fund

But we all know the UN has no agenda, right?  I renew my call to send the UN, building and all, to any country that wants it, freight collect.


Has the War with Iran Already Begun?

Seems to be an awful lot of activity there, including drones, for a country in which we are not involved.  But listen to those drums....




Army Posts Job for “Internment Specialist” Following KBR Call for FEMA Camp Subcontractors


Gee, who do you suppose they intend to relocate and where?



Confirmed: ATF Plotted to Use Fast And Furious To Demonize Second Amendment

Smells like setup.  Again.


Scientists develop system that can shut down cellphones in cars...

Wanna bet state governments take a keen interest....?


Average Family Lost $21K in 6 Months Due To Property Values, Stock Market...

Maybe Occupy has a point....  good thing I can't afford a retirement fund.

---------------------------

This country is being run by drunken, self-righteous thieves.  Those governed, the Great Unwashed, are largely imbeciles; content to give up most of their income and rights, so long as they can drink beer and watch X Factor.

Aren't you tired of the kleptocracy yet?

CIA Admits it Has Office at Virginia Tech

A police officer and one other person was killed today by a gunman at Virginia Tech.

A four hour lockdown produced nothing and the all-clear was sounded at 4:30pm.  The gunman was not apprehended.

Virginia Tech was enjoying a four year hiatus from shootings when this occurred around 12:15pm.

Expect the usual calls for revoking the Second Amendment.

Read it and Weep

I have long heard stories about pedophilia.

I have long preferred not to pay them much notice.  It's because this is one of the very few ways I'm pretty normal: I'd just rather not face the truth.

Within the last few years we have all started to read stories of people being arrested for child porn.  It started with small, isolated groups.  A few individuals, maybe.  An online `club'.

Then we read about pedophiles in the ranks of police.  And government.

Some of my online friends told me horrible stories about this.  Some pointed out that this went all the way to the top.

But like 9-11, to believe the emerging truth is to have to face some genuine unpleasantness and ugly facts about our fellow man.

For the longest time we have had seats to the sick opera that is the Catholic Church's abuse of children; the subsequent denial and hiding of the perpetrators.

Very recently we were treated to the Jerry Sandusky story [Local Boy Makes Bad at Penn State].  This is spawning other admissions.

Last night I came across a piece of ugliness and horror, detailing sexual abuse in Hollywood.  This breaking news is disgusting and it's true.  The very title of the article indicates this is the tip of the iceberg.

Now it's truly time to sit up and take notice.  Look at the sickness and devastation these subhumans have wrought upon children.  In the name of entertainment.

And this is indeed the tip of the iceberg.  The stories my friends told me and the stories I read about institutionalized pedophilia going all the way to the top.

Our eyes are wide open and our first step is to choose to see.

Of Colds and Classic Rock

Argh..... 

Sorry, had to be said.

I just spent a week with a particularly nasty bit of a bug.  The blasted optimists would say I should be thankful that I didn't go down for two weeks, like my wife.  This little bugger just sat there and refused to leave, kinda like Congress.

While this thing inhabited my body, I was kind of useless.  If you ask certain people, that was not much of a change.  Suffice it to say that I kinda sat there with a fever and a fuzzy brain.

After a while, the game became finding something to do whilst sitting there.  Not wanting to waste a sick day on actually being sick, I went to work for most of the week. After four days I still had a fever.  I decided that would not do.  The typical remedy was failing me (vitamin C, echinacea, zinc) so I alternated between Daytime Cold Stuff and Nighttime Cold Stuff.

Taking my temperature is something that has never gone well at my house.  This tends to be largely a problem of not being able to locate the thermometer.  Yes, living with a multiple has many joys.  And I will continue to pin this on my wife for as long as I can because it's partially my fault: if I were that interested in taking my temperature, I'd have purchased a second thermometer (or third or fourth) and hid it where I could be the one who didn't know where it was.

So I used the shortcut used by men around the globe: "I feel like a have a temperature."  This brings out the Inner Nurse (who also doesn't know where the thermometer is), who holds her arm up to my forehead and announces "You're hot."

I thank her for the compliment.

But seriously, she's my wife and has to say that stuff now and again.   After she gets done explaining that, she tells me I'm really hot.  I decline to repeat the joke, no matter how much it hurts.

So by this point I'm reasonably certain I have a fever.

The thing is.... whenever my wife feels my forehead, she tells me I have a temperature.  Sometimes I just ask her for the fun of it, even when I feel ok.  Who says science is dead?


So I took a sick day in spite of myself, hoping I could use the three day weekend to heal and be back to work.

Three days later, I was a little worried, as I still had a fever.  Fortunately it left toward the end.

Somewhere earlier I was talking about finding something to do while I was pretty much no good for anything.  When all else fails, there's the computer.  And when the laptop is on the lap, there's internet activity.

VIDEOS!

As I've mentioned, I'm a little slow on the uptake.  I don't do a ton of streaming video or audio.  Somehow I located Justin TV.  This is a site where people create channels and broadcast things that (hopefully) others will view.  There is no shortage of entertainment and content there.  The thing that really confused me was the video games.  People play video games and broadcast them for others to watch (and sometimes comment on).  Since I'm obviously not of that demographic, I have to wonder if this is really popular or goes on elsewhere.  I could find out this information with a search but I'd rather just comment on it and scratch my head.

In any case, there is a ton of content to be found at Justin.  If you can possibly tear yourself away from watching someone else play video games, you can see movies, tv shows, cartoons, ancient programming, and puppy webcams.  While I am a sucker for puppies, I haven't spent much time there.

The first thing I discovered were the `conspiracy' channels.  And my oh my are there a bunch of them.  I seriously recommend viewing some of the content, remembering to question everything and use your BS Filter at all times.  A person could really learn something there.

Then I stumbled upon some of the rock video channels.  There's one fairly constantly broadcasting channel that has a comprehensive collection of videos and concerts (you can look this up on the site's directory).  There's another guy who runs concerts on Friday nights.  He's the epitome of internet amateur broadcasting: great content, amusing comments, equipment breakdowns during the show, and you get to watch him drink soda while he comments (Yay!).  He's the genuine article.

So without further interruption (or temperature checking), I got to see a lot of video while the germs steadfastly refused to leave my system.  Here are some random thoughts....

WHITESNAKE

The Concert Dude<tm> ran a Whitesnake show from 2004 in England.  Like them or not, you have to admit that these guys are tight and put on a show.  Coverdale et al are something of a guilty pleasure (because my guitar playing friends laugh at me when I say Whitesnake) but there are some seriously good tunes there, combined with some seriously good playing.

The first highlight came when a young lady presented David Coverdale (or Coverversion, as Robert Plant refers to him) with some flowers and a note thanking him for his music and his voice.  He seemed genuinely touched but quickly recovered and thanked the lady for her f-ing t*ts, allowing as to how they were inspirational too.

I would have spit out my tea, spraying it all over my monitor, if this happened twenty years ago.  In spite of the fact I always laugh at fart jokes, it just seemed like David might have been a tiny bit long in the tooth to make these jokes.  Or perhaps he could have done it a hair more creatively.

Speaking of old fellows, one also has to give it to Mr. Coverdale for his voice.  The man can hit all of the notes, which is quite a feat for most people north of fifty.  I remember reading that he trained with a cantor after a vocal injury.  Regardless, the man sounds fantastic for any age.

The band was very well-rehearsed and tight (although way too old for Jerry Sandusky).  Tommy Aldridge played drums and has been with this incarnation of the group the longest.  He was a favorite of mine way back when he played for Pat Travers.  That was a killer rhythm section.  This man is a maniac on drums and makes the whole band sound better and tighter.   The bassist was Marco somethingorother.  They even had a keyboardist but he was way down in the mix.

Naturally the fun for me was in the guitar.  Reb Beach played largely second guitar, with his Ibanez custom Strat-style (with EMG pickups).  When he played lead, he proved himself more than capable.  He was more modern-sounding, for better or worse.  Doug Aldrich did most of the leads, using Les Pauls and Marshalls.  He used to play for Dio and had his stage act together.  This guy was something to see, with his fingers moving a mile a minute, perfectly executing the leads of the guys who recorded before him.  A lot of his trilling seemed to be executed with his first and second fingers, which is not common.  His tone was good but a little over the top with distortion for my taste.

It was funny to see most of the band shirtless.  I wonder, if I got to play all the time, would I be able to lose enough weight to look decent in only a vest.  Let's face it - I don't go shirtless because people have to eat - ya know?  Plus the hair spray would probably choke me first.

Recommended.

BLACKMORE ET AL

I got to see Ritchie Blackmore in Deep Purple and one of the Rainbow incarnations (with Dio).  Never got to see him live, so this was my first exposure.

I suspect Mr. Blackmore to have the best sense of humor in classic rock.  He never said a word but you could hear it in his playing and watch it in his antics.  At the end of both concerts, he annhilated his guitars.  Much as it hurt to see perfectly good guitars (John Hiatt) get smashed, it was also pretty amusing.  He thoroughly disembowled the Strats, yanking on the strings, breaking the headstock, using the edge of the stage to `play' the guitar, having a serious fit smashing the remains, and losing a few off the end of the stage.  He'd get another one from a roadie then proceed to atomize it, just like the previous one.  At one point he went through four guitars in minutes.  This was obviously before litigation became a hobby.

One thing I noticed in both bands was the tremendous control he had over the band. They watched him and he gave hand signals whenever he wanted something.  His equipment appeared to be stock CBS Strats into two Marshall stacks, using a reel to reel tape deck for delay and gain.

The playing was the real show, however.  From the bits I could see and hear, Ritchie seemed to almost be a bass player, as opposed to a guitarist.  He would play a single note then an octave up, just like the bass.  Not exactly a ton of power-chording.  Most interesting to observe.

Ronnie James Dio (RIP) fronted this version of Rainbow and was his usual animated (and short) self.  The man's voice defines rock vocals.  I also watched him with Heaven and Hell (pretty much Black Sabbath).  There shall never be another voice like his.

I tend to find power trios boring at times and this was the case with Heaven and Hell.  There's no denying Tony Iommi (another lefty) and his massive tone, but there's only so much one guitar can do, especially when he switches to lead.  Tony used his trademark custom-made lefty SG through Laney amps.  A good guess would be that he detunes his guitar south of normal E.


QUEEN

Speaking of power trios, I saw two Queen concerts.  One was at the Rainbow on the Sheer Heart Attack tour (Killer Queen was the big hit).  I'm at a loss for a date but I'll guess around 1972.  This was a concert filled with songs from earlier in their career. Unfortunately I'm not all that familiar with the earlier songs so it was a bit wasted on me.

Never wasted was the spectacle that is a Brian May solo.  He is a singular voice on guitar and manages to perform miracles in the power trio format.  His early work with delays was groundbreaking and still stands on its own.  There was a small mountain of his trademark Vox AC30 amps and his homemade guitar for the world to behold (along with all that talent).

The next concert was on the Night at the Opera tour (Bohemian Rhapsody was the hit).   There was a greater song selection because of two intervening albums, making for a more interesting concert (for me anyway).

Suffice it to say that you haven't lived until you have beheld Freddie Mercury in short shorts.

Well, maybe not.

In any case, Freddie (born Faroukh Bulsara) set the tone for rock frontmen.  He was bold, brash, incredibly gay, and had a voice that didn't have to be restricted to rock and roll.  [note to self: omit show tune jokes]

At the encore, they had confetti raining down on the occupants of the stadium, along with balloons tied to blow-up dolls.  Quintessential Queen.

Imagine a band with great writing, singing, playing, and a show.  You don't get that often.


ACDC

Amongst other stuff I saw a terribly early video of ACDC.  It was black and white and featured Angus before the dark schoolboy outfit.  They lacked nothing in attitude though.  It was odd to see Orange amps onstage but who's counting?

I even saw the tail end of a Blondie documentary.  To be honest I never liked the band but it was interesting to hear their story.  Can you say cocaine?  I knew you could.

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So out of sickness came classic rock videos and concerts.  If you're a musician or rock fan, you need to check Justin out.  Even if you just like to watch videos.....


I'd stick around a bit longer but I have to wake my wife to see if my fever is still gone.