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.