From File Clerk to CEO-or My Dinner with the Georgetown 5.

By  Steven Lorber

(Just call me Willie)

-----------THE PORKYS NATIONAL ANTHEM-------

It's a hard world to get a break in
All the good things have been taken
But girl there are ways
To make certain things pay
Though I'm dressed in these rags
I'll wear sable
Someday
Hear what I say
I'm gonna ride the serpent
No more time spent
Sweatin' rent
Hear my command
I'm breakin' loose
It ain't no use
Holdin' me down
Stick around

But baby, but baby
Remember, remember
It's my life and I'll do what I want
It's my mind and I'll think what I want
Show me I'm wrong, hurt me sometime
But some day, I'll treat you real fine

                                     "It's My Life" - The Animals

I have recently joined the ranks of the unemployed. Not by choice, but rather the all too familiar corporate heave ho. Yes I enjoyed the requisite pity party, the Muslim breast beating ritual (minus the razors)-the Buddhist meditation which ended with a non-directed fuck you; and so, I was back where I started. Déjà vu- -or what I call-the Peter Sellers Syndrome.  I dusted off the mantle, the nameplate, and the web site of the once great Metro Music. Yes the business where I was the King- and the King was I. The challenge that now stood before me was; could I resurrect a vinyl business in a digital world and achieve greatness as I had done 15 years before?? The world had changed in my absence. What kind of bizarro universe was I entering where 10,000 songs can be had for nothing; stored on a disc the size of a pinhead. Music that could be ripped sampled trampled mixed doctored downloaded and served up fresh on an I-pod/cell phone/I-pad-the cloud?!!. Would I be able to meet this Herculean challenge?? Could I bring some semblance of sanity to a world gone mad!! Once again I was at the crossroads-"hello darkness my old friend"!!  Just as the Green Lantern-summoned his strength-"On the darkest day in the darkest night-no evil shall escape my sight"-I called on the Gods of Porkydom-Barney Fife/Harvey Pekar/Sgt.Bilko/Captain Kangaroo/Ed Grimley-Give me strength my friends-breathe life into my soul so that I may soldier on-and show the world that a vinyl record-is your friend-its there to comfort you-to inspire you, and to love you. And so it became, I, Steven Lorber, went from file clerk to CEO of Metro Music.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that these recent events triggered the inevitable 19th Nervous Breakdown-the rush to the doctor for more powerful drugs and the spiritual questioning/self loathing inherent in this porkys genetic makeup. I spent my days making friends at the local Dunkin Doughnuts emporium drinking way to much coffee and convincing myself that "Their Satanic Majesties Request," was light years ahead of Sgt. Pepper (2000 in fact). Strangely enough no matter what psychotic roller coaster my mind seemed to take-I kept coming back to the question of education. My education. Had I received my degree in 1975, as I should have-what would my life have been like???. You see I had a small difference of opinion with Mr. John Carroll and -thus I engaged in a 25-year war with the almighty Georgetown. The epic David & Goliath battle ended in august 2000 as the bruised and battered giant awarded this belligerent porky his cherished BSFS degree.

In the process of getting the Metro Music office ready for business I couldn't stop thinking as to how I arrived at this place in my life. -  58 and starting all over again? Had I even started??? What had I really done? ---  "Who knows where the time goes"? /"Time has come today-Time in a bottle-The time and the place-Love me two times-Summertime-Time wont let me be-Time is on my side-Time of the Season- Tea Time (won't be the same without my Donna)``."

 It was a sunny day in June-after returning from DD and trying to put my office in order I came across an unmarked file filled with letters documenting my 25-year war.  I marveled at the gall, the tone and the slightly pathetic nature of my letters. How they must have dreaded receiving my letters with the never ending cajoling, begging demanding; imploring, beseeching, requesting and petitioning. Who said you cannot petition the Lord with Prayer??!!. After a cursory examination-I concluded that I'm a pretty damn good beggar! And why not-Hell I'm not that proud, I spent my whole life begging for grades, begging for sex and begging God to forgive me. Amongst the mountain of documents I was sorting for posterity one caught my attention. It was a one-page transcript with my class rank. - Steven Lorber Class Rank 350 of 0355.  Yes I actually finished higher than 5 other people. The days went on and I kept thinking who are these 5 people? How was I able to finish ahead of them?? Well I decided to find out. It was just my luck that I had a connection with a girl who worked in the GU admissions office. With the requisite begging and bribery I tracked down my fellow low ranking Georgetown comrades. After the perfunctory introductory e-mail, I sent them all an official invitation to come back to DC to enjoy a dinner and pay homage to each other as we would examine our lives and our connection as the bottom 6 graduates in the class of 2000.

Feeling smug, anxious, excited, and nervous-I went to greet my fellow travelers at the world famous Willard hotel on the designated night of November 12, "A day that will live in...There was Thomas Bergeron, Sheridan Fawnstock, Susan Emerson, Sean Driscoll and Cynthia O'Connell. I hosted this Dinner in one of the Willard's private banquet halls. It was my dream that this magical meeting-this dinner -would help me realize my station in life. Secretly I was hoping that this special event-this meeting of the minds would confirm my superiority. Arrogant? Absolutely! Insecurity is the defining genetic marker of all porkys.  It drives us to beg, borrow or steal any morsel of praise, encouragement and acceptance being offered.

As we sat down at the dinner table-our private waiter poured the wine. Sheridan suggested we all introduce ourselves and give a brief description of our professions. Sheridan Fawnstock started out explaining that after a few false starts he followed the path of his degree right to the state department. Stamping passports in Burundi eventually led to an appointment by George Bush to be the American Ambassador to Nigeria. Thomas Bergeron then went on to explain after a series of dead end jobs he went for masters in accounting and was now heads the international division at PRICE WATERHOUSE. . Cynthia O'Connell went to Georgetown's nursing school and is now the Head of the Nursing dept at Bellevue Hospital in NYC. Sean Driscoll went to open a successful line of department stores in the Midwest. And Susan Emerson became a well known social worker in Maryland spearheading the Martha's Table Homeless shelters throughout the tri state area.

I immediately realized I stepped into a big pile of do do. The Georgetown 5 were major success stories. Listening to my peers brought me to panic attack mode. My stomach flew to my brain. -My brain tried to exit my head. The elevator that was me was in free fall. When it came to my turn, I had to pinch my leg to pull it together, "Well I worked briefly as a paralegal for a prestigious law firm and then after a difference of opinion-I started a record business selling vinyl, press kits, posters, buttons, cassettes...it's a good business with international appeal I provide......People like to touch and hold records....it's tactile-it's an art object.. It gives pleasure.....Everyone's a collector-you've seen the TV show Pickers...no not Hoarders ..Pickers.... My worst fears materialized-I saw that glazed look in their eyes-a look I knew so well. Before I even finished, I morphed into the mentally challenged child at the holiday dinner. I was "lather."

The nights one piece of good luck presented itself when the waiter interrupted my bumbling announcing dinner would be served shortly. I did my best to curb my conversation; use the knife and fork properly, napkin on lap and no nose picking. I went out of my way to be polite, gracious and cultured. Halfway through the evening I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I popped an adderoll to focus and a Valium to relax. I took a few minutes to pull myself together, engaged in some chanting and entertained nostalgic memories about Quaaludes.  As the evening came to a close Cynthia suggested we all describe our greatest success or achievement.  Sheridan started off saying how he brought two warring African tribes together and brokered a peace where there had been horrific genocide. Thomas proudly described how he instituted the Price Waterhouse college fund, which gives out $500,000 a year in scholarship money to needy students. Cynthia heads the nursing staff for doctors without borders. Sean makes it a point to hire 25% of his work force from minorities and the disenfranchised population. Susan worked on the Presidents task force for Welfare Reform.  Then it was my turn---I'm not sure why-perhaps the Valium, but I felt strangely comfortable with my level of achievement

"Well um I worked on the Grammy's-well not really... I did win this contest at a record show here in Arbutus Maryland were I was able to piece together a story using Beatle song Titles.. not a simple feat mind you! -Here let me show you." Do you wanna know a secret?  She was a day tripper, with a ticket to ride. She said She Said, you're a loser a nowhere man-yes I'm down-but I'll be back-I should have known better-help, its been a hard days night but its getting better all the time-everyone is trying to be my baby....I don't want to spoil the Party...

Just as I was hitting my stride my compadres got up and briskly left the banquet room. I was alone rapping "for no one". The GU 5 were now hurriedly walking down the long corridor towards the exit exchanging phone numbers shaking hands and making promises to keep in touch. How could this be happening to me, this nightmare -this meltdown-- a nuclear holocaust-a turned down day.

Then a force took hold of me; from where I have no idea-and with the speed of a vampire from Bon Temps-I flew past the GU five; fell to my knees, blocked their path and with my hands stretched out to the heavens- I pleaded.

"I'm just a fool whose intentions are good oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood."

The above excerpt is from the Author's New Book, "Song Titles are My Life." Due for Publication early next year.

I represent a small and unique niche of displaced persons . We are the aging rockers-the fans-the minor players-the aficionados-the believers. We went to the original Fillmore,Woodstock,the Electric Factory-Steve Pauls Scene, the Avalon Ballroom/The Troubadour/The Whisky/Max's Kansas City/CBGB's The Star Club & the Cavern. We loitered on Sunset Strip; the East Village; Warhol's Factory; the suburbs of Cleveland and anywhere music blared. We grew up on vinyl and remember it fondly-particularly the albums that had gatefold covers (which allowed us to make sure we lost no dope when we separated the stems & the seeds from the good stuff). We marched for real causes-and we marched to meet girls. We were stupid enough to think we made a difference-and we are still stupid today as we look for a cause to champion. We believed in free love-and missed the concept! We are 5-10 years away from assisted living- and yet we still look as Tim Hardin once said, "for a reason to believe."

We look for truth and guidance in our music . We are the modern day Diogenes carrying our lamps in the daytime looking for an honest rocker. So I ask you: why is it that style trumps substance? Money trumps integrity? And 15 minutes of fame should arrive in 15 minutes-rather than after 15 years of slugging it out? I battle with these questions every day-and I have to tell you: it contributes to my chronic insomnia. Between 11 and 3 AM every night when my wife is long asleep, I've got my trusty changer at my side and I flip through the overpriced premium channels like sundance, HBO, Starz, Encore and Showtime. Fuck Fios-why can't I buy my channels al la carte? Do I really need 50 golf channels or 200 religious channels? Anyway, I flip endlessly looking for something to pull me in ("Cathouse" on HBO?!) but I find myself being suckered into mostly the IFC/Sundance offerings only because they are a bit off the beaten track. One thing they have been running quite a bit of and I can never stop watching is that Ramones documentary "End of the Century". The Ramones were the quintessential dysfunctional rock band-the rock and roll equivalent of the "R.Crumb". Those guys were so fucked up that they truly epitomize what great rockers should be. They were illiterate, stupid, lovable and had no option in life but to play rock and roll. They broke your hearts, made you laugh, powered your brain and crumbled in the end. The last 5 minutes of the film was heartbreaking as Dee Dee is shown running down a hallway in a hotel yelling some fucked up intelligible words-and then the credits roll up saying he died a few weeks later. No "hey hey my my" here. Yes it's tough carrying the dream around remembering when you went to the Fillmore and saw Country Joe Play for the first and maybe the only time in his career-the song, "Quiet Days in Clichy," (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8k-_mmpoog) -before he became a rabid feminist)-or watch Ray Davies fall over dead drunk in 1970 at Carnegie Hall debuting "Lola". I had the coolest Beatle boots and & the music was good-really good!! Only now does the scary thought dawn on me that I might just be the "Aqualung" on the park bench. So as I contemplate the future (and reach for my Lexipro) I can't help but recall the comforting thoughts of the past and my fantasy girls-my loves-first & forever.

Love is the fuel that powers our music and our lives. Yes it can be sappy and syrupy and God knows there are so many crappy love songs out there. But love is truly at the heart of most music and really life itself. Porky's are incurable romantics. We truly love from the earliest years to our inevitable end. We fall hard and our love never dies. All that it takes is a chance encounter-a look-a fantasy. We love our long forgotten girlfriends from 7th grade as though it was yesterday. Each one is unique and holds a special place in our heart. Our most significant and meaningful loves are unfortunately; the ones clearly beyond our reach. And although we never could have a real relationship with these fantasy goddesses-in our mind, these relationships are very real.

Indulge me here:

Susan Oliver

Susan was always 2nd or third billed. She played a nihilistic character who never had a chance. She conveyed the image of beauty and sadness simultaneously.. I think it was her part in the "The Fugitive" with David Jannsen (a lost soul and porky) that stole my heart. Her beauty matches her obscurity-she will always be no.1 in my heart.

Grace Lee Whitney (better known as Yeoman Rand on the original "Star Trek")

Yeoman Janice Rand was only in a few episodes in the first season of Star Trek-but she made quite an impression on this young brain. I mean lets face it-If she was good enough for Captain Kirk....

Donna Michelle-1964 Playboy Playmate of the Year

Donna Michelle while mostly inconsequential to the world at large-will always remain very special to me as she was the female that "turned" my love from the puppy love variety to the physical dimension of impure thoughts . It was my dear Donna who was responsible for opening my floodgates and creating the conflict that every man wrestles with his whole life. If there is one thing that determines the human male character and makes for greatness and an inordinate amount of bad behavior it's the penis brain hookup-or as Philip Roth would say, "Portnoy's Complaint."

Lily St. Cyr

I used to wake up in the morning
I used to feel so bad
I got so sick of having sleepless nights
I went and told my dad

He said, "Son now here's some little something"
And stuck them on my wall
And now my nights ain't quite so lonely
In fact I, I don't feel bad at all

Pictures of Lily made my life so wonderful
Pictures of Lily helped me sleep at night
Pictures of Lily solved my childhood problems
Pictures of Lily helped me feel alright"
Pictures of Lily/The Who 1967

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BmkBroiw1s
Lily St.Cyr didn't have the fanatical fan base that Betty Page had, but her heyday was during the same time frame as Betty's. Truly dignified, she was a Sex Goddess that inspired worship. There is an interesting story behind this photo I published. A local artist filmmaker and comedic talent-Pat Carroll-best known for being part of the Langley Punks Film troupe-was in correspondence with Lily for the last 10 years of her life. Pat worshipped Lily and helped her in so many ways. He was responsible for getting me this signed photograph for which I will be eternally grateful. Last time I talked to Pat he was working on a book of her life-I do hope it sees the light of day. "Pictures of Lily did make my life so wonderful"

Kay Parker

What red-blooded man doesn't have an interest in pornography?. Kay Parker was a star from porn's "Golden Age." She was the first real "MILF". She stole my heart immediately-I'm not sure why... maybe it was the faint hint of that English accent?. But Kay made me realize and appreciate older women-or as is the case now-women my own age. An older woman with a sense of humor is a treasure and lord knows, certainly more forgiving. Who else would dress up as a Nun-allow you to put on your Tarzan suit, tolerate you swinging from the rafters, hollering, and not always on target? It's.. it's... it's... just what I've heard .

Ah my loves....and I'm sure all you out there have yours-a word of caution though-these loves of ours should best remain locked away in our minds and I'll tell you why. This episode occurred recently to me and I would not wish it on anyone.

"Darling (as my wife calls me-sometimes)... the mail is here." "Bills I'm sure-just put them on the table." "What's this? The Sasha Gray fan club-who's that?" "Oh its nothing-just give it to me (trying to grab it away from my wife).. What-a bra-its signed!! to my love! What?? Why?-these are yours?!! you sick... "Damn I ordered the panties"-No I ordered boxer shorts-for the summer-mine had holes-shorts-short pants-you remember I told you I was gonna take up tennis..they must have mixed up my mail with someone else's its a mistake. Its not mine!...I.. I... I....I'm innocent....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHQ-DvJgJbE

Excerpt from the book, "The Porky from New Yorky ‘s Guide to Weight Loss and Positive Mental Health”

You know you're a Porky if you exhibit some of the following traits:

1)    When they picked teams for kickball- you were picked 8th in a field of ten.

2)    You finished college with a C to C+ average.

3)    8 out of 10 girls turned you down for dates or rejected you for various reasons.

4)    If  you think you should be the boss  when in reality you’re the file clerk.

The Number One Porky Myth
Most Porkys  are not fat but many are slightly overweight


I remember the day as though it were yesterday. The day I gave my heart soul to rock and roll; or prehaps better spoken, to music. It was the equivalent of handling snakes, getting the fever, talking in tongues accepting Jesus—or in  this case accepting Mick as my saviour. It was in the summer months of 1963. A hot day at my best friend John Studebaker’s house. We were having a Cub Scout meeting–and the lesson that day was how to make a bean bag. Needle, thread, some hard beans and a piece of cloth. A primitive task preparing us cubs to get some basic skills to go face the world. After the meeting was over, all the cubs left but me. John and I were going to play as we often did—we were playing out our version of Rudyard Kipling. Our activities consisted of riding bikes-throwing dirt clods/playing with fireworks-or running around in the anarkali(old market). But today was different. After our fellow cubs departed John said to me, “come here you have to see this!”

We went to his 15 year old brother Ray’s room and he went to the closet and pulled out a small plastic record player (the legendary $10 record player where you pull the tone arm backwards to start the wheel spinning) he pulled out  a record showed it to me—“Ray just got this” he said—then proceeded to put it on the record player. He dropped the needle on the record and it was at that moment that a switch flipped on in my head. Instincts that were dormant were now being awakened—it was  like a science fiction movie where the gigantic monster machine comes on slowly powerfully-it can’t be stopped and grows exponentially stronger minute by minute. Every molecule in my being became alive and marched toward the pleasure and pain center of my brain with the speed and power of a locomotive train. The song was “Congratulations” by The Rolling Stones.

Congratulations, congratulations
Well done my friend, you've done it again
you've gone and broke another heart. Yeah
Yeah, tore it apart
You've done it before, hope do it some more
You've got it down to a fine art
Remember the first time you tried to do it to me
There'll be no next time, just wait and see
Just wait and see

 
I realized my destiny and who I was and my station in life. To be quite honest, I wasn’t to happy about these realizations. It was at that moment that I knew instinctually that my life would be fraught with disappointment and little if any success. Feelings of desperation/lonliness and failure-bloomed like flowers in my being. I felt real anger, and when Mick sneered “yeah you tore it apart,” I knew those emotions were going to be the mantra of my life. The music spoke to me. It was my cross to bare.

Without saying anything to each other the song came to an end and John put the needle back down and we listened to the song again and a third time. I don’t know how Studee felt about it-I doubt he felt the same feelings I felt-but he must have felt something. He then said,”lets listen to the other side.”---Amazingly the other side of the single: ‘Time is on My Side,” brought on a plethora of paradoxically different feelings. I felt a sense of calm---a sense of hope. It’ll be alright—there’s hope—there’s a chance its not all lost—and your not alone—you’ll get your second chance-the dignity-the girl whatever you want you will get it.

Time is on my side, yes it is
Time is on my side, yes it is
Now you always say
that you want to be free
but you'll come running back (said you would baby)
you'll come running back (I said so many times before)
you'll come running back to me
Oh, time is on my side, yes it is
Time is on my side, yes it is

The story was complete-the Yin and the Yang. Two parts of the whole –the despair and the hope. This is what music was about. It speaks to you in a language that is private personal and most of all comforting. It was at this moment that I realized I was the porky from New Yorky and it was going to be a long and difficult ride. Now you may be thinking how would a 10-year-old come to these provocative realizations about his life and character. Well I would tell you first that it was instinctual and secondly it might have had to do with the fact that out of 10 kids making bean bags I was in a group of three that could not thread the needle and thus failed to stitch up the bag. It didn’t help that Mrs. Studebaker said several times in front of the group—“Come on Steven you can do it-its simple!!” Think of a Catholic Betsy Ross who might have been a character in Thornton Wilders “our Town” and you get the picture. Not once but twice she chided me about my failure. It was at this moment that I realized that most Catholics are latent Jew haters but I digress.

In this chapter I would like to explain the love hate relationship that Porky’s all over the world have with exercise. I remember when I first became aware of the strong necessity of exercise and the concept of “your body is talking to you.” I had turned 48 and went out with some chums for a night of fun to the DC Improv. David Brenner was the headline act and he of course is a charter member of the brotherhood of Porkys. David is very funny and really one of the best comics around—unfortunately like most porkys he was either mis-managed or somehow fucked up his own career and never received the stature he so deserves. Well to get to the story—he went into a long monologue of how your body talks to you—it was a unique combination of serious discussion and hilarious off the wall comedy—but I remember becoming acutely aware of “body talk”. Most of my exercise up until that time consisted of lying back and imagining myself jogging—or reaching for the TV remote utilizing the functional isometric technique of channel changing. I procrastinated for the next 9 years until three events/philosophies entered my reality. First off the perennial reunion was around the corner—I of course failed to meet my goals. Secondly I started working in a corporate environment with many beautiful young women. Now while I am a happily married man the arrogance of the male ego coupled with the Porky entitlement factor inspired me to think about exercise in a more serious manner to heighten my desirability factor-but the most important element that finally sent me to the treadmill was an episode of Star Trek. I don’t remember the title or even what the episode was about—I just remember the last 10 minutes. Bones and Mr.Spock were stranded in a capsule floating along with the oxygen running out. Unless they were noticed and rescued they were dead men. At some point during the small talk of 2 men often at odds with each other-now making amends-Spock launches a flair into space that robs them of most of their power and oxygen. Bones freaks out yelling something like—“spock you’re killing us—you signed our death warrant (or something to that effect). Of course they get rescued and in the last 2 minutes of show (standing in the company of Capt.Kirk on the bridge)—Bones takes a dig at Spock—and says, “ You know Mr. Spock---launching that flair was highly illogical,” Mr. Spock in his timeless cool manner turns to bones-pauses; raises eyebrows- then says, “No Dr. Mcoy it was in fact very logical,”—the episode ends. I’m not sure why but that 10-minute scene gave me all the inspiration I needed. Hence I bought a treadmill—and now I am going to share with you my formula for physical perfection. —All this takes is 30 minutes 5 nights a week—Jane Fonda—Pilate’s trainers-thigh masters—Guthrie renker watch out—the PORKERCISER regiment is here.

The only accessory one needs is his trusty pocket cassette player—however I am sure the more technologically inclined out there can duplicate this in the format that works for you-ok we are off and running-lets start the speed at 3 miles---Tunes away:

1)    Mary Chapin Carpenter "It must have happened"
I don’t even like Mary Chapin Carpenter—but this a great song structure with great lyrics—with a power and calming effect at the same time.

 “Can't remember seein' all my hopes goin' up in flames I can't remember reachin' for the closest thing to dull the pain I can't remember feeling I could be healed by a stranger's hand”
-A perfect first choice for someone who resents doing this—power on “after all baby here I am with you!”

2)    The Shoes "Tomorrow Night"
Ok were starting to find a groove now-one of the greatest power pop bands of all time-The shoes never received the recognition they deserved---operating in the shadow of Big Star—these guy had the looks, the tunes—but suffered the unfortunate fate of being relegated to a footnote in rock history.

3) The Hoodoo Gurus- "I Want You Back"
  So were in a power pop groove now—here is a killer pop number with a larger than life production—imagine yourself in the Australian outback; your thirsty starving looking for a water hole—then miraculously you come upon—these cartoon character mop tops with 100 ft. amplifiers playing their hearts out for the Barney crowd—dinosaurs galore—that’s what mtv does for you

3)    Johnny Hallyday W. The Rattles "Keep Searchin"

OK now we're cooking—lets move the speed up to 3.1—Johnny Hallyday-now here is a misunderstood rock star—get your borsalino out and imagine Bridgett Bardot and Catherine Deneuve on your arm—and in your bed—befriend 60’s rock band the Rattles take a Del Shannon tune—put a farfisa organ in—a bad French accent and a Nazi holiday camp band—and we’re rocking—you can laugh all you want at Johnny Hallyday but he probably got more pussy than Mick, Keith & Wilt Chamberlain put together.

5)    Mannfred Mann "If You Gotta Go Now"
Sweat starting to make its appearance—no one can dispute the greatest songwriter of modern times was Bob Dylan---and similarly no one can dispute that Mannfred Mann—(with Paul Jones) was the greatest interpreter of his songs. And while this song is not in Dylan’s top ten—for my money (and work out) this interpretation reaches perfection – the lyrics burst with alarming immediacy when sung by Paul Jones—and the instrumentation is beat nirvana.

It ain’t that I’m wantin’Anything you never gave before
It’s just that I’ll be sleepin’ soon It’ll be too dark for you to find the door
But if you got to go It’s all right
But if you got to go, go now
Or else you gotta stay all night

6)    The Cramps- "A New Kind of Kick"
The Stooges may have introduced the world to Raw Power-but the Cramps took the concept re-invented it and over powered & destroyed every garage and punk band in its wake-including Iggy & friends. One of rocks biggest tragedies was the passing of Lux.  No modern punk rocker could touch the sheer magnitude of power and stage prescence that was Lux Interior---anchored by the demure but highly erotic Poison Ivy—literally unbeatable. Ivy took sex appeal to an etherial level—she was a woman you wanted to worship and crawl for—by the middle of this song—I’ve moved the speedomoter to 3.3….psst psssst  Ivy call me.

7)    Episode 6 "Love Hate Revenge" 
Refugees from the flower power british freakbeat explosion—these guys took an American bubble gum track-coated it with toffee flavored acid and came up with a minor freakbeat masterpiece. Throbbing bass lines and masterful lyrics:

      “ I bought a doll  from an old bearded lady, I named it Tanya and it looks just like you-and though I know that it sounds a little crazy—I can make you feel anything I want you to-----If I want you to cry bet your life your gonna cry –when I put two drops of water in this little dolls eye-so if want to get even all I gotta do is break this heart and you will feel misery..

8) The Choir—"Anyway I Can"
I’m beginning to feel to feel the pain—the adrenalin is slowing down—the workout is half done and I need purpose—this porky needs to be steadied—lets go back to 7th grade-Bari Thompson I’m sorry I teased you—I know you must have grown up to be so beautiful—If only I had the sense to have done what these Choir lyrics preach—“concentrate—accept  your mistakes figure out what you should have done better—it will get you beyond the pain—the beauty of the past-the beauty of that first smile—it never got better than that—love went downhill from there.”

8)    The Remains-"Say Your Sorry"
Ok Porky, puck up, pull yourself together and lets rev up this work out with the Remains. Barry Tashians Vocal was a cross between Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney—the guitar playing was a cross between George Harrison & Keith Richards and the songs were a cross…..”your love is not the way its been—say your sorry!”

9)Masters Apprentice—War or Hands of Time
Did you see Braveheart with Mel Gibson—Imagine this is the theme song—your off to fight for your freedom with an  army of scallywags—Sir William Wallace fighting for  the freedom of the Scottish People—amidst the sounds of these shimmering guitars.

“Oh I had to go—I will be thinking of you when I’m far away.”
While listening I had become Sir William Wallace opposing King Edward I of England---I led the men in the battle of Stirling Bbridge.I..I..I

10)Judith Durham—Wanderlove
This is the Female Heroine in the Braveheart film we just left—Princess Isabella—Professes her great love. Judith Durham may very have the most beautiful voice in pop music. Remeniscint of Sandy Denny-her range, subtletiy and grace are unparalled. Imagine her on the hillside singing this to Sir William Wallace—as you can imagine this Porky is sweating like a Pig-but listening to this song- I actually get goose bumps.

11) Flamin’ Ohs—Gotcher’head
Coming into the home stretch now---this obscure instrumental reminds one of Joe Meeks Tornados-but more american more farfisa keyboard –a theme I once considered many moons ago to close my long forgotten radio show-keep steady, petal to the metal or is it the other way around?

12) Bunk Dogger-“French Lessons” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0t3jibfncQ
This song always makes me laugh-obtuse humor verging on the obscene—no its not pedophelia—and aging french teacher barely able to walk falling in love with a 16 year old english girl—Henry Miller—where are you now when American Needs you—I need you-we need inspiration-we need laughter and most of all we need irrerevrence.

13) Music Machine
“Talk Talk”- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJR_KGZO4U0
We’re almost finished now and were gonna kick out the jams---this is definitely in the top five angry punk songs. Black leather leather pants & shirt—playing guitar with black gloves—these lyrics against discordant yet melodic angry punk it don’t get better than this:
“Here's the situation And how it really stands
I'm out of circulation I've all but washed my hands
My social life's a dud My name is really mud
I'm up to here in lies Guess I'm down to size
To size”

      14) The Stranglers-“No More Heroes” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6yTRq_rJg4
The last song in this grueling work out-nihilistic punk calling on the spirit of Jim Morrison. “Whatever happened to Leon Trotsky?” a stomping rythmn --2 more minutes and were done-are we feeling good or what?!!!---No More Hero’s-- I’ve got that chance now—how many pounds-2 3 4----------The song ends I step off the treadmill—I’m doing the moonwalk——time to hit the shower---wait –Is someone calling me—Is someone acknowledging my greatness—I hear a voice—Oh its my wife—“Steven can you come down here-it starts as a question and ends as a command—come down here—I just made an apple pie—do you want a piece----Can I have 2???

Excerpt from the  Book, " The Porky from New Yorky ‘s Guide to Weight Loss and Positive Mental Health"


The Porkys comfort meal:

1.    A Box of Generic Brand Flakes
2.    A carton of skim milk
3.    A nice size bowl
4.    a spoon and a comfortable chair


on the Porkys stereo:

1.    "We Used to Know" Jethro Tull
2.    "It Must have Happened" Mary Chapin Carpenter
3.    "Next" Scott Walker
4.    "The Young Ones" Viv Stanshall


I have always considered myself to be relatively hip and up on most new things in life starting with music. In fact I am reasonably sure that I have always been at the beginning of all musical curves starting from 1964-1982. By the time 1981/2 came around I realized that the next curve was a kind of punk hardcore musical style-which I could not at all relate to. It is at times like these that a Porky has to cut his losses and fold. So I surrendered my place at the cutting edge table and took a sideways turn embroiling myself into further archeological digs hoping to find something else to guide me-to give me sustenance to take me to that Promised Land. Naturally the arrogance and elitism that a Porky feels on such a journey must be recognized and kept at bay-which if successful allows him to discover the musical nectar of the Gods. I found myself gravitating to Instrumentals-Greek bouzouki music/Iranian Raks-song chanteneuses (sp?) like Nana Mouskouri/Fay Lovsky & Francois Hardy. I fell in love with their music and as such with them-imagining our lives together-had they wanted me. My lighter and more positive side took me on a flight of fancy sampling the sounds of Viv Stanshall/Scott Walker/Bunk Dogger and perhaps my all time Favorite the Shadows featuring Guitar God Hank Marvin. I can tell you whenever I need inspiration-the powerful emotional guitar in "Wonderful land" awakens the spirit. Try it-it's a top drawer Porky Recommendation.  But I digress-this is not what I meant to talk about in this chapter.

As we are 10 years into a new century-we are at the crossroads of a wild west of technology. I have to admit that while I have tried to keep up-I am like the college kid who keeps dropping classes after the first test. I tried with the best intentions only to be confused, befuddled, out maneuvered and left in the dust. Cassettes were easy-enjoyable and fun. Stereo became a question of educating oneself about the newest and best sounding equipment. Laser discs-should have been the first clue that technology and greed had made their dirty deal and there was no stopping from this moment on. Video cassette recorders fueled the greed as this technology became very successful and profitable. The fly in the ointment (in more ways than one) here was that Video Recorders brought pornography to the confined private space of your  bedroom-a godsend to the millions (billions) of chronic masturbators the world over. The greatest achievement of the 20th century---take a guess---WAS...WAS.... FAST FORWARD!!!-and you think you know what David Bowie's CH CH CH CHANGES WAS ABOUT! Anyone could do it-and this friendly technology gave Porkys and all people of minimal confidence the inspiration to master the basic VCR programming technology. Yes you too could be successful. This brilliant technology set the groundwork for what many probably consider the Model T of 20th century technology: and that is of course, the home computer.

I have to say I was at the forefront of this revolution when in 1982 I spent $5000 on a Radio Shack TRS-80 Model 3 and a 3 ton printer. I remember the night I bought it-It was the day in January 1982 when air Florida flight 90 crashed into the 14th street Bridge over the Potomac River-I should have known --not a good omen for this Porky and his personal relationship with technology. I learned some basic word processing/database applications which simplified a few necessary tasks in my business. As time went on I upgraded to newer and more powerful machines hoping I could progress with them- but alas, I never seemed to get past the basic concept of simple word processing. Like millions of others (or was it just me?)  I felt mastering the computer was like selling fire water to the Indians-the result was not what I expected. But just as the collective millions were ready to give up (or was it just me?)in comes the internet.

Now what does that mean-does that satisfy man's search for meaning? Not really. But it does dangle that perennial carrot of Pornography in front of us-(as well as a new term paper service) and with that a whole new world. Things are starting to go very fast now-monetary greed is the engine driving our economy and it is faster than a speeding bullet. Communication/new high tech product and the means of delivery seem to be the guardians at the gate. By the time the year 2009 rolls around there is a whole new means of non-verbal communication. Cell phones are abundant-camera phones/video games-gaming/phone apps/ipods/hand held's/gps's/Google/zappos shoe-frank zappos shoes?/DVD's/Blue Ray/digital camera/skyping/bit torrent/streaming/downloading/blue tooth/blackberry/amazon-ebay/cloud computing-help-stop the madness-help me susan powter-- I am still trying to figure out how to work the DVR-caller ID as a concept still  blows me away-help I'm a rock-a retarded rock ...ARGGGGG.

Calm down, take a deep breath -center yourself Porky. I am reminded of a movie that came out in the 60's,"Stop the World I Want to Get Off." And so I have. It hasn't stopped me though from using Priceline on occasion. To say I have a difficult relationship with technology is an understatement. I can say at least I have tried most of the new technologies. I signed up for a "Facebook" account because it seemed like an interesting idea and way to communicate. I immediately though, had some problems with the friending concept. Literally the first day I joined I got a request from an old school chum-or so he says-and greeted me with hey Steve it's Bill...do you remember that day in 6th grade we had the circle jerk at Jims house...great to hear from you let's stay in touch-but don't touch to much-ha ha LOL!!. The second day I got an angry friend request from Susan W..... I can forgive you now but when you refused to go the  7th grade Sadie Hawkins dance with me you broke my heart and destroyed my confidence-you piece of shit-I wanted to say that for 40 years-it's so good to get it off my chest, by the way  how are you??? On the third day I got a friend request from Doug J-hey Steve-remember me-how could you forget!! When your team came to play us in Karachi-I struck you out each time you went to bat and that last at bat when you had the chance to tie the score- well, you were pathetic-I'll never forget the look on your face-but hey that was 40 years ago- can we be friends-I promise I won't remind you about it that often!!. Goodbye Facebook - -I ended up closing my account the next day-Social networking -bullshit-Facebook is a secret code for getting mind fucked.  Who needs 500 friends it's hard to enough to keep 5 happy.


And what's with this new form of communication texting and IM'ing. Only last week I was taking my mother to lunch at Panera's.  In the booth next to us-I could see two college kids sitting across from each other-- faces partially hidden by the protective shield of 2 laptops facing each other down. Now I don't see myself as a busybody but I couldn't help but notice that they were talking to each other via IM. What the fuck??? They were fourteen inches face to face away from each other and they were typing on their keyboards. Was verbal communication  on the "out list" this year? Unless my 56 year old mind is failing me what happened to the awe and passion  of 18 year old hormones out of control- perception hopes aspirations of looking into the eyes of your potential mate - On the other hand this new form of communication would partially hide a multitude of sins-- drooling/acne/ loose boogers/food in the teeth-flying saliva-bad choice of words etcc. Wait, WORDS-the magic of communication. I was so befuddled--I later discussed this scenario with my spiritual advisor Dr. Joseph Sasfy-the most brilliant man I have ever known-and a man who has advised Ahmet Ertegun/Clive Davis/Walter Yetnikoff/Phil Spector/Lt. Garcia/Ronald Reagan/Professor Irwin Corey/Jenna Jamison/the legendary stardust cowboy & Butch Willis. Dr Sasfy I asked, "why are they not talking to each other, after a long stare, the great doctor spoke."Have you forgotten the words of the prophet," People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening," & he was gone.
The final straw for me was Passwords. The last time I had use for a password was in 1966 while playing Kick the can at Tony Oresteen's house-"who goes there"?  "Mr. Vagina", I yelled back, "Welcome Mr.Vagina --you may pass". There it was that was the answer I was looking for. If I had to memorize passwords for my bank/my work/ebay/amazon/my healthcare plan/my car insurance/my house insurance/my home equity line/my internet provider etc..How could I possibly remember all those words-I considered a wristband-similar to those worn by people with obscure diseases-a piece of paper in my wallet-supposed I was pick pocketed. No it was obvious I had to memorize my passwords. I went back to my joy of language. It was in third grade with my friends John Studebaker/Tommy Creed/Raymond Gangarosa that we all took such pleasure in saying the words Vagina/fucking/pussy and even sometimes Penis. Nothing made us happier than to yell these words a top of our lungs. Later that year Raymond Gangarosa signed my 4th grade yearbook-good luck at fucking and pushups."  And so it became that all my passwords were Pussy75/vagina pussy and certain other variations-I don't want to give away all my passwords but you get the picture. However as much as I loved my passwords it didn't stop me from forgetting them. One particularly painful situation comes to mind. I was trying to get into my Sandy Spring account to transfer some money for my son's college tuition. I forgot the password and after trying to retrieve it on line- I finally had to call the help desk of the bank. After going thru the: Push one if you want  to.... Push two if you want..Till I finally got a live person. Hello what can I help you with today?"  Well I forgot my password. "Okay can you give me your account number?", " Well no I am not at home I am at work and"..."Okay can you give me the name on the account?" "Yes it should be under Steven.. Or maybe my business name". ".I am sorry sir, I cannot find it under those names-tell me do you remember any part of your password?" "Well I do, but is it really necessary-it's got to be under my last name or..." "Sorry sir I checked them all if you give me what you do remember of your password I can cross-reference it against your account." " Well ok it's Bukkake with some number after it." " Bu..What; can you spell it please?" -"yes its B-U-K-K-A-K-E." "Here it is sir-it's Bukkake 56." " Well thank you very much." "-One minute sir-can you tell me what bukkake means?". "Well..well ..It's It's a a Chinese holiday with dragons-yes dragons blowing smoke." "I know what Bukkake is!; you are very sick person-what kind of vile human being would use that for a password?!!"............A Porky!!
 
 


 

                            Osama Dick Dale-Rock & Roll History's Missing link

Excerpt from the upcoming book, "The Porky From New Yorky's Guide to Weight Loss and Positive Mental Health.

THE PORKY STAPLE- THE BOWL OF BEANS

          Ingredients

1          .   One 15.5 oz can of light or dark red kidney beans
2    a teaspoonful or nice dollop of curry powder
3.    4 packets of duck sauce(from a Chinese take out restaurant)
4.    4 packets of spicy mustard(as above from a Chinese takeout)
5.    a healthy dollop of catch-up
6.    a light sprinkling of pepper  
Directions:

1.    Strain a can of beans in a colander and then put it in a microwaveable bowl
2.    ad all of the above ingredients and mix it up
3.    microwave for 2 minutes
4.    take out of microwave
5.    drink two large glasses of water
6.    take bowl and sit down in front of TV watching a moderately interesting thriller or drama


A Porky as I explained earlier in the book is a person who feels a strong sense of entitlement. This entitlement is not one of an arrogant nature-but is the reflection of the internal torture a porky feels as he daily tries to grab his 15 minutes of fame(he wants more) or spends at least 15 hours a day thinking about it. In my particular case I had spent 20 years trying to recapture my radio glory of yesteryear failing miserably but trying at least mentally every day to get back there. It was at this time my dear friend, world-renowned rock critic Mark Jenkins suggested I try to get a job at XM radio.  I talked to the Program director, at the time a fellow named Dave Logan-and in his best am style-he said," show me your stuff. Just the challenge a "Porky wants to hear," the year was 2002-a turbulent time in America with terrorism on everyone's mind. Well to make the long story short-I had by chance known Osama Bin Laden's younger brother(Kamal) who was a fellow student in the Foreign Service School at Georgetown(this was the early 70's). Without going into to much detail I managed to hook him up with this "hot blonde" in exchange for surrendering his apartment on "W Place" in Glover Park. His date was a success--- we remained in touch over the years and I thought-I can get an interview with Osama-this will certainly get me a show on XM Radio!! Dave Logan told me it sucked(typical radio douchebag)-the FBI visited me and I almost spent a few summers at Guantanamo Bay. But this Porky soldiers on-Now for the first time ever-listen to this amazing interview and

(Hear the audio version here)

discover the answer to one of Rock Music's many mysteries!!

Osama:  Hahlo, Hahlo (Middle Eastern accent)

(Engineer) Bruce:  I don't think we can wait.....

Steven: Okay, okay (pause) okay, okay

Osama:  Whom am I speaking? Identify yourself, Infidel.

Steven:  (laughing) Today we have a very exciting show.  After a long and hard negotiation through several third parties, we have lined up an interview with ...

Osama:  Hahlooo?

Bruce:  Here he is Steve, here he is.

Steven:  We have lined up an interview with the FBI's most wanted, Osama bin Laden.  In our pre -negotiations, we were surprised and amazed to find out the real grievances he has with the American people.  Uh...is that you, Mr. bin Laden?  

Osama:  Yes!

Steven:  Mr. bin Laden, I am delighted and a bit stunned...

Osama:  To whom am I speaking? (suspicious)

Steven:  My name is Steven, Mr. bin Laden.  I am a friend of uh Mr. Farley who is a friend of the uh grandson of the uh Saudi Arabian Prime Minister. (fumbling to make something up.)  But let me say, Mr. bin Laden.  I am delighted and a bit stunned.  The whole world thought that the Middle Eastern radio and television station Al Jazerra would be the one to get to interview you.  Instead you have given this worldwide exclusive to us.  Can you tell me why?  Why are we so lucky?

Steven:  Are you there? Are you there?

Osama:  Hahlo?  

Steven: (laughing) Are you there Mr. bin Laden?

Osama: One moment please. (talking to someone in the background) Kamal!

Steven: Okay.  (talking to audience) Apparently it sounds like we are in touch with a cave in Afghanistan.  We are making landmark history here.  

Osama: (heard talking to his brother Kamal in background.)  Listen carefully. I want the following doughnuts.  (with an urgent tone in his voice giving a command) I want to get a dozen.  I want two jelly. I want to get two chocolate iced.  Some of the  Bavarian cream, and I want another one....I think they are maple flavored, and the others are iced all over with the things on top. (thinking for the English word.)  

Osama:  "Sprinkles."  Lots of sprinkles.  Please.

Steven:  It sounds like we do have a transmission.  It sounds like we've made a connection, based on this recording; it's got to be in a cave somewhere.  It's just got to be in a cave.

Osama:  (drawling his voice in politeness)  You have to excuse me.  I am under a lot of stress.  It gives me an appetite.

Steven: But again, Mr. bin Laden. Sahib.  Tell us why you chose to come to our network here, at the XM Network, when you could have gone anywhere else?  Why did you come to us instead of Al Jazerra?  That is the big question?

Osama: Well.  There are several reasons.  My relationship with Al Jazerra , like everyone else, soured because at the last interview I did for them, they did not live up to their commitment to provide me with:  three cases of Perrier, 15 bowls of M&M's, (red and yellow only,) 2,000 pounds of Bulgarian caviar and enough shish kabob to feed the 200 men, and you ask for five white women dressed as American police women for the entertainment.

Steven:  (stunned) Excuse me?  White women dressed up as police women?

Osama:  (solemn)  As Muslims we must be fully covered.  However, my men need some entertainment, and the decadent entertainment is what you in the West specialize in.

Steven:  Okay.  Okay.  I can understand that.  I see.  Why did you consent to be interviewed by the XM Network when you were being seriously pursued by ABC, CNN, MSNBC and CBS?

Osama:  I wonder if you have any idea, how hard it is to get fair representation in your Western media.  This is a serious choice I must make to get my word out.  I was slightly partial to CNN as I have great admiration for Paula Zahn, but the Infidels who run CNN would not give to my demands.  I was hoping she would interview me in a swimsuit.  However, I did choose XM because it has some admirable qualities.  First up, I am aware that your show has played music from all over the world, and you have played the songs I have written.  Many times.  Particularly, my world wide smash "Miserlou."  Secondly, your station has the greatest representation of all kinds of music with a good selection of world beat sounds, and what the world does not know is that I am first a musician and great songwriter, not a freedom fighter or a terrorist.  I am misunderstood.  I am misrepresented in your media.

Steven:  Yes.  Hello.  We are still here with you.  Please go ahead.  I  (sound of machine gun fire.)  We can still hear you. (more gunfire)  Sahib Osama.  Mr. bin Laden. Okay.  

Bruce: We've got him back.

Osama:  After a long, long negotiations with your crafty CEO there,  Hugh Panero, we worked out a deal in which I give him a new round of financing, (to the tune of 30 million I might add,)  for which I have promised my own station called bin Laden Network.  24-hours of Koran readings, belly dance music, Turkish bouzouki music, Arabic music and environmental sounds.   (gunfire in the background.)  You know I just love the sound of cows mooing in the morning.  Of course, the many tunes I have written, especially my greatest hit "Miserlou," stolen by that Infidel,  second rate bouzouki player, third rate surf guitar player, Dick Dale.  

Steven:  Dick Dale?  Can you tell me about Dick Dale?  Tell me about your relationship with Dick Dale.

Osama: (laughing) Oh don't worry.  I can tell you about Dick Dale. Listen.  Well get to that story in a minute.  Ah.  Further.  My poor friend, my good friend, Hugh, also promised me five female interns of my choice and remote broadcasting.  I can't very well come to the United States, now can I?  (gunfire and beeping.)

Steven:  Are you there? (beeping)  Engineer?  How are we doing there?  By the way, this show is being orchestrated by Bruce, the engineer here, well known in music circ....

Bruce:  The transmission seems to be getting faulty...Uh...

Steven:  See if you can bring him in.

Bruce:  There's some interference from some "a" wire stuff.

Osama:  Who is this Bruce person?  

Steven:  He is just the engineer Osama.  He's an engineer.  That's all.

Osama:  Is he CIA operative?  

Steven:  No.  No.  He's a technician.  He's here to...

Osama:  He's clean-shaven, I'll bet.  

Steven: (laughing) He's here to see this interview goes well.  Please move on.  Talk.  Tell us what your thoughts are.

Osama:  I don't want you to forget that you promised me 1,000 pounds of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, flown to my hide out in Hindu Kush Mountains every three...uh...did I say Hindu Kush Mountains?  I meant to say Kandahar (drawling word out.  Kandoooohaaar.)  

Steven:  Kandahar. Okay.  So.  Osama.  You don't mind if I call you Osama, do you?  Is that all right?  

Osama:  That's all right, under the circumstances.  

Steven:  (more gunfire in the background)   So what's the story with Dick Dale?

Osama:  You don't know our customs and our way of addressing,  so it's all right.  I will bear with it to get my story out.  

Steven:  Tell me your relationship, or the story with Dick Dale.

Osama:  (gunfire)  Well you're not going to leave it alone, are you?  But in the mid-sixties, Dick Dale and the Del Tones were on a Mid-East tour of the Hilton and Intercontinental Hotels and my band, bin Laden's Lamb were the house band in the Phoenica Hotel in Beirut where, when this American Infidel, Dick Dale,  got the gig and there we were, promptly told that we would be the opening act and lost our status.  You can imagine that a Muslim man, like myself, with loss of pride. This was a hard pill to swallow.  In any case, I befriended Dick and showed him around the red light district and turned him on to the Turkish delights, chars or, as you say in America, "hashish."  It was on a night with the full moon.  We took our camels and we went to the desert.  We imbibed some chars, and I played him a beautiful song I had written about my camel, "Serti."  Dick told me that night (gunfire in background) it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard (gunfire)  He was like a brother.  Then he left and went back to the States and betrayed me.  The rest is history.  "Miserlou" is my song.  The West must know.  It's not a question of money.  It's a question of pride!

Cue to song "Miserlou" sung in Arabic.

Steven:  ....and of course, when Pulp Fiction came out....(cue to Dick Dale's intro of "Miserlou.")

Osama:  Very funny. (angry)  I am not amused.  You're laughing, but to me it is like a spear through my heart.  I remember when that film came out.  A prime example of your Western decadence.  I had to see it three times just to make sure my eyes were not deceiving me.  And when I left the theatre....I was so angry.  I was boiling.  You dissed me.  And when I saw your battleship in the harbor?  I commanded that one of my boat's ram into it.  ("Miserlou" still playing.)

Steven:  Let me ask  you another question, Osama.  Since I see that it's a particularly sore point for you...

Osama:  It's more than a sore point.

Steven:  I realize that, so I was thinking we'd move on to another question.  Tell me. The Jews.  Why do you hate the Jews, Osama?

Osama:  I don't hate the Jews.  Some of my best friends are Jews.  There are a very funny people.  They keep a little humor.  They..uh...we need that here in the desert wasteland of the Middle East.  As a matter of fact, at my wedding, to my sixteenth wife, Henny Youngman was the entertainment.  I loved that guy.  We spent many hours laughing.  He almost convinced me to have a circumcision.  Can you believe that?  (incredulously)  

Steven:  Quite something.

Osama:  In fact.  His big joke.  His main line, "Take my wife," is now part of the Muslim dialect.  It's a great joke we have together when rich Muslims with many wives get together, over some chars, and drink a little too much Turkish coffee, we say to each "Take my wives...PLEASE."  

Steven:  You claim in this Al Qaeda press release that we received,  that many of your other musical ideas were stolen, Osama.  Can you give me a further example?

Osama:  I can tell you more stories of injustice than the 1,001 Nights.  But there was a time in the early eighties when your superstar, Prince, or whatever that Infidel calls himself now, looked me up.  Of course he came to Osama.  I am known as royalty in the pop world of the Middle East.  I offered him a cultural tour of the Pyramids and the many mosques we have.  But all this man wanted was to hunt for women.  He said to me, "How can you tell what they look like, all covered up?"  I told him, "We go by the ankles. We "read" the ankles. And.  By the "walk."  I told him the most sensual women of the Middle East are the Egyptian women.  Whenever we see a hot babe walking by in a burka, we say, "She walks like an Egyptian."  So what does he do?  He writes a hit song, and he gives me no credit.  I call for a fatwa on him.  

Steven:  I can see, Osama, that there is definitely  a lot of bitterness you have, and that apparently if what you say is true, you deserve a certain amount of retribution.  

Osama:  I wonder if you have any idea?  But listen, I've got to get going here.  The old clock on the wall says "it's time to go."  

Steven:  Osama, I'd like to thank you for (gunfire) spending this time with the XM Network and giving this exclusive interview and uh letting us know (gunfire) exactly what does fuel the fires.  I can hear some gunfire in the background.  What is that, Osama?

Osama:  That's the cue to get out of town.  They hunt me like an animal (gunfire)  But never will they catch me.  I've got to go now, but I'll tell you, (yelling) I NEED MORE BEN & JERRYS.  AND THE COMPLETE THIRD SEASON OF THE SOPRANOS.  (gunfire followed by loud explosion)

Cue to Who singing "I Can See For Miles."

Unlike the millions of fans mourning Michael Jackson, my thoughts are with Sky Saxon. In this multi-dimensional universe we live in--it is often the obscure and obtuse moment(s)undocumented by the masses which affects us in the most profound of ways. Let me explain:

I did'nt discover Sky Saxon & the Seeds by being the studious record collector I am. I discovered the Seeds by chance and learned to love them by circumstance. The year was 1967 and I was living in Lahore West Pakistan(while in the  8^th and 9^th grade). This was before the area was marred by muslim terrorism and Taliban bullshit. In those days, Lahore was a sleepy 3^rd world backwater destination and for us American expatriates who lived there, our Mayberry (minus the conveniences). There was no TV and only a few houses had telephones that didn't even work half the time. The news was always 3 days old and if you were lucky, your short-wave radio might just might pull in the BBC for a minute or two. There was no peanut butter or chocolate milkshakes or record stores or sneakers or anything cool. We did have record players and Akai reel-to-reel tape recorders. And our American  school had 250 kids in grades 1-12. We were all tuned into the Beatles, Rolling Stones and Beach Boys, always looking for the next big thing. The only time we heard new music was in September when the new kids came over there from the states. Our group hung out at the Jones' house (they had a pool table)—two very popular brothers who set the scene for all of us.

The Summer of 1967 one of the gang Richard Shaw brought the 2 Seeds albums over to Duke Jones' house. The Seeds and Web of Sound. These records became the Jones brothers' favorite records and they played them ad nauseum. When we weren't shooting pool we were looking at the album jackets for hours. "Do you think you would grow your hair this long?" I wonder where this photo was taken"? We had arguments lasting hours what song was better-"Try to Understand" or "Can't seem to make you mine"(actually he same song) To us 9^th graders the Seeds were Gods.

Fast forward to 1974-I was at Georgetown University and was doing a radio show called "Mystic Eyes."  Lenny Kaye just released his compilation Nuggets-and the world was getting their first formal introduction to garage music. I played the Seeds—and If I may be so bold to say—I was playing "garage music" as a radio format light years before the thousands who now carry the torch. As a record collector, I became interested in the post Seeds "Discography" looking for "Little Richie Marsh doo-wop records" and willing to kill for the rare Seeds single "Love in a Summer Basket." My father recently died and his favorite Seeds song was "Faded Picture" which I pulled out and listened to in his honor.

Fast Forward to May 2009. I am having a dinner at my dear friend and radio co-host of yester-year Dr. Joe Sasy (the man behind all those Time-Life informercials you see at 3 AM!!) We talked about the upcoming Seeds tour and it was decided the good doctor would buy tickets for the local Birchmere show and my wife Nancy & I would spend the night there. We all thought-what a great fun way to spend an evening.

Fast Forward to the evening of June 26-I am bored at home and surfing the net. I see the headline "Singer Dies from Infection." Of course I click the link. A wave of sadness descends over my body. I didn't know what to do. I call "Duke" in Utah--a prominent dentist now --and still a very dear friend. The Secretary say's "can you hold and I will see if Dr. Jones can take your call." In the few seconds that I am waiting I think back to the Dukes' condom collection--all 120 brands he was so proud of and filled many up and used as lethal water balloons(but's that's another story). Duke jumps on the phone and says, "Hey Herc!" (my 7^th grade nickname) how are you?'" I tell him, "I am calling you because something very sad happened today." What? "Someone Died" Who? -your not calling me about "Farrah" are you Herc?" No Duke, Sky Saxon died today." A noticeable silence come sover the line..... "You know Herc, he was from Salt lake." I tell him, I know duke." " You know his real name was not Sky Saxon," No it was Richie Marsh--and he was probably a Mormon." "Yeah Herc, Marsh is a well known Mormon name, the Duke replies. We continued chatting making the same jokes we made in 8^th grade. Who would have ever thought we were 56 year old adults?  

In conclusion I have to say Sky Saxon's passing was sad and beginning of the realization that my Generation is entering the twilight of our lives. I was very upset with NPRfor not doing even a small story on Sky. Those holier-than-thou Ivy League  ectomorphs who pride themselves on the unique and forgotten news story--totally dropped the ball on this and this was a story that begged to be told. Instead, NPR was indistinguishable from Fox news in their coverage of Michael and Farrah. In their lame coverage of Michael, they even  forgot to mention the only cool thing Michael ever did was name his kid Blanket! But then again,  Sky talked to Dogs and played with Father Yod &  Yahowa 13.

Yes, it's a "Faded Picture,a picture of my childhood," RIP Sky.

Steve Lorber is a founding member of the Rock Institute- an organization started in the 70's to interdict and stop the export of rare American Rock and Roll records sold and smuggled to Europe. A life-long promoter of cassette technology and is currently working on a diet & philosophy book tentatively titled The Porky From New Yorky's Guide to Weight Loss and Positive Mental Health.