Am I really watching Courtney Love play guitar on the tube with a Beck look-a-like?
It is interesting to see the evolution of the rockstar. Personally, I think that if we want a new generation of true rockstars wielding original music, the internet and itunes needs to explode. Oh, and fedoras will need to be banned from Nashville, as well as hair gel and polyester shirts and tanning beds.
What I want to really see is some fat guy with a bandana and pajamas blowing everyone out of the water with his out-and-out skills. I want to see some weird black guy playing the national anthem with his teeth and it sounds like a friggin guitar orchestra. I want to be wowed. Not only by content, but I want to see some flash. But gone are those days. Does anyone know how to play a scale on the guitar anymore?
Plus, everything is by comparison. Just like Broadway right now. EVERYONE wants to sound like two different singers: Kristen Chenoweth and Sutton Steven K Bernstein Foster... with at smattering of Elphaba. Don't get me wrong, I really like those two artists a whole lot, I just like to hear them do themselves... that sounded weird. You get my drift though.
So in other news... According to the new unauthorized biography of Oprah, It appears Oprah had some wild hanky-shpanky with John Tesh back in the day. And can I say thank you for that info? Because THAT is some serious TMI right there. I could have gone my whole livin' life and not known that. Same kind of thing happens when I go to a seeker friendly church where the pastor gives a sermon series on how God wants us to have some good hot-and-Godly sex with our wives. (Imagine "wives" spoken with a southern draw.) I really hate those sermons. As my friend Brant Hansen noted, it's really kind of gross to imagine deacon Bill with his wife Karen having plump Godly relation as they cuddle more and more with each subtle pastoral ever-so-SUBTLE double entendre.
Other than that....
I got an ipad and it rules. Yes, it rules. I rules like a gold pinkie toe to a toeless Gangsta. I rules like a shiny new shopping cart to the homeless-and-proud guy that sits on my street corner reading book after book in the beautiful new york spring.
That's all for now.