Come Blow Your Horns

I have always been of the mind that car manufacturers are missing out on a major innovation that would make driving safer and more stress free.

We’ve all been there. You’re waiting second in line at a red light.  Ahead of you is a 2008 red Dodge pickup truck on the rear bumper of which is affixed a bumper sticker which proclaims “I’m the NRA and I don’t like you!”

The light changes. The car ahead, however, does not move.

The driver of the vehicle you surmise is probably fantasizing about hunting quail with an assault rifle. It looks for sure like he is not going to move forward any time soon, and certainly not during the big hunt. 

You try to lightly tap the horn on the side of your steering wheel to nudge him into moving. But your judgment and hand/eye coordination fail you and instead of the intended short beep, your steering wheel gives forth with:

A LOUD BLAST!

A VERY LOUD BLAST!

A VERY, VERY LOUD BLAST!

Frantically you seek to assure the driver ahead of you - whom you can now see is a broad-shouldered muscular fullback type of dude -  that you didn’t intend the explosive blast. You wave your arms back and forth frenetically as if to say “No, no, no – that’s not what I meant!  I meant a soft beep, a friendly beep, a cute adorable beep!”

But it’s too late!  He’s out of the car and over to you!  Muscles rippling! Tattoos bulging!  You passing out!

 “Y’know, friend,” he says, “that happens to me all the time too.  I always hit the horn too loud when I just want to tap it.”

So that’s it. He only wants to commiserate. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Ain’t it a bitch?”

“Sure wish somebody would come up with a fix for it,” he laughs, gets into his  NRA-mobile, and drives off.

Well, somebody has. 

ME!

Presenting my innovation “Nice Horn/Mean Horn.”

Cars will come equipped with two horns on either side of the steering wheel. One is for when you wish to pleasantly signal the distracted driver ahead that red has given way to green and the other is for when some malignant jerk almost crashes into the front end of your car and causes your air bag to deploy.

Never again will you accidentally upset a dawdling driver such that he exits his car and stuffs you into his gas tank.  Just hit the Nice Horn.

And never again will you accidentally sound a soft ineffective beep when you mean to assault a vehicular villain with a blaring blast somewhat akin to the voice of the late Ethel Merman.  Just hit the Mean Horn.

That’s Nice Horn/Mean Horn.

Wouldn't you like to have my nifty innovation behind the wheel?  Here's hoping someone at General Motors, Ford, Toyota, or even Matchbox Cars picks up on this and makes it a reality.

I tell you, chum, it’s time to come blow your horns.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
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And don't forget, folks, my new book Perry Block - Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute is available on Amazon right now. It's all dressed up with nowhere to go ... except into your arms!  

The Man - Trumpian Candidate

Been reminded lately of a great movie we've all seen called The Manchurian Candidate?

Thought so.

Starring Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey, The Manchurian Candidate tells a tale in which the Russians plant a clueless operative in the United States to destroy democracy. Same thing in real life, except here the Russians have planted an idiotic douche bag in the United States who's best quality is being clueless to destroy democracy.  

All that’s missing is Angela Lansbury.

Until now.

“You can’t deny me entrance to the Oval Office!  I’m Mrs. Johnny Iselin, Raymond’s, I mean Donald’s mother.”

“But, Mrs. Iselin, President Trump is very busy …”

“Nonsense, you idiot!  He’s probably busy salivating over that tart Erin Burnett on fake news channel CNN!”

“Why, Mother!  What a pleasant surprise!”

“Why, this is a pleasant surprise, Raymond, I mean, Donald!  I thought you were masturbating to fake news, but you’re with your Vladimir Putin blow-up doll. Good!”

“Mother, why must you always put me down?”

"Because you're a stupid, ignorant, boorish, disgusting, narcissistic clown! In a good way. And perfect for manipulation by our Russian handlers."

"Chelsea Handler?"

"Did I mention stupid?" 

"Why are you here, Mother?"

"Because it's time to play a little cards, Raymond, I mean Donald."

"Why?"

"Because you've developed a fantasy I must eradicate before it destroys our plans to destroy America."

"Okay. Solitaire, mother?"

"Heavens no, Donald, you're way too dumb to understand the rules to Solitaire. We're playing Old Maid."

"Okay, deal!  Shit, I got the Old Maid again! And she's so ugly she makes comedy writer Bruce Vilanch look like Scarlett Johansson!"

"Now listen to me, Donald: you will forget this recent fantasy of yours and concentrate on turning America into the Borscht Capital of the World!"

"Whatever you want, Mother. I'll do your bidding ...  that is, your bidding  on The New Price is Right!   Goodbye, Mother."

"Hey, kid!  Hey, 71 year old, kid!  I saw your mother just leaving. I need to talk to you now."

"Why, it's Frank Sinatra, playing Captain Bennett Marco!  Doo Be Doo Be Doo, Frank!

"Oh, man!  Did somebody mention stupid?"

"What do you want to talk about, Frank?" 

"Let's play a little cards, kid."

"As long as it doesn't require reading."

"Let's see what we can do, kid." 

"Look at the cards, Raymond ... I mean, Donald: 52 ugly old maids. They make comedy writer Bruce Vilanch look like Scarlett Johansson. And each one of these old maids is telling you "you grab my pussy, you'll get a knitting needle up your ass.’ 

They're also telling you it’s over!  The links are smashed. Which is a shame because I felt like hitting the links and playing golf tomorrow!" 

"Why, Frank, I see it all clearly now!  I will resign tomorrow!" 

"Good, kid, good!"

"And I will resign like no one has ever seen before! Under prior administrations our resignations were the laughing stock of the world but not anymore."

"I'll say it again: Did somebody mention stupid?" 

“And I will turn the White House over to Crooked Hillary, who’ll probably force her way in before I've even finished caressing, kissing, and packing up all my pictures and false Time covers of myself. " 

“Okay, kid, just great! Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to go suck up to future president Ronald Reagan.”

“But, Frank, there’s one condition. You gotta help me realize a fantasy that, well, only you can help with."

"Anything, kid!" 

"I wanna hang with the Rat Pack."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

And don't forget, folks, it may not like be catching a performance of the Rat Pack in their prime, but I guarantee it's funny, that is, my book Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute. 

And absolutely no collusion, no obstruction!

I've (Still) Got A Rock 'N Roll Heart

All you need is them!

I've got a rock 'n roll heart, even still  at age 61.

It may not beat quite as loudly as it used to,  but for most Baby Boomers the music never dies and rock 'n roll never forgets.  The manner in which we enjoy the music, though, does seem to go through a change or two.

Once we thought Rock 'n Roll Would Save the World,  but I don't remember that ever happening.  There is still war, crime, poverty, injustice, Martha Stewart, reality TV, deification of the Second Amendment, and a television program called "The Chew." The only thing missing from the world since those golden olden days of yore is my hair.

Similarly Sex and Drugs and Rock 'n Roll is no longer the Mantra of Our Generation.  Most of us are lucky anymore to be pulling down one of the three.

And most Boomers no longer follow the comings and goings of rock stars as they once did. There was a time I could readily tell you that Stevie Winwood went from the Spencer Davis Group to Traffic to Blind Faith and on to a solo career that exploded with Arc of a Diver and that Neil Young traveled from Buffalo Springfield to Crazy Horse and then to the epic Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young and is still doing God-knows-what today.  

Today,  God-knows-what Neil Young is doing today. 

The following represents the wisest commentary on the rock 'n roll this Boomer still loves that I can impart at this stage of my rather advanced game.

Rock 'on, Geezers!

1)  Bob Dylan ought to pick one religion and stick to it.

2)  Old dudes love Steely Dan.  ( ... except for Peg and a few other played out ditties.)

3)  Joe Jackson's song Is She Really Going Out With Him?  is an instant classic with a catchy melody and spot on lyrics expressing the male angst that almost every guy has felt at one time or another:

   "Pretty women out walking with gorillas down my street ....  look over there - where? - here comes Jeannie with her new boy friend,  they say that looks don't count for much, and so there goes your proof .... Is she really going out with him?  Is she really gonna take him home tonight?"

And yet everyone jumps up and down over Steppin' Out, a pleasant enough little tune  that sounds like the theme song to a 1970's cop show. There's something going wrong around here!

4)  Mick Jagger must never die.  I never believed Frank Sinatra would die,  and yet he did.  Don't ever die, Mick!  Do it for Frank.

5)  No disco song ever written is as good to dance to as Sugar Magnolia.  

6)  I still play air guitar.  I wouldn't mind if my name were Randy California.   In a way, I'm kind of glad we'll never have to come face to face with a 70 year old Jim Morrison.  WXPN in Philadelphia has got to stop playing You Get What You Give by The New Radicals,  one of the more overrated "rock" songs in recent memory,  cheap pop dressed up as rock with simplistic pseudo revolutionary lyrics.  I can never decide if it's cool to like Todd Rundgren or a guilty pleasure.  I could go on like this forever ..... 

7) The Beatles are the single most important musical group to appear in the second half of the twentieth century.  They changed the music we listen to, they way we think, the way we look, the way we act, and the culture of the world.   Even though today I hate Paul McCartney, I would still die for him.

8)  Some classic rock,  no matter how inherently great,  is as played out as Cher's career.  If you're still going "Oh, Man!," whenever Stairway to Heaven,  Layla (original version), or The Waiting is the Hardest Part comes on the radio,  you've got serious  "It's time to move on, dude!"  issues.

9)                                                               Only love can make it rain,                 

     The way the beach is kissed by the sea.

     Only love can make it rain, 

     Like the sweat of lovers laying in the fields.

    Love Reign o'er me.

    Love, Reign o'er me,

    Reign, o'er me,  Reign, o'er me  ....

OMG!  Kiss Me, You Fool!!!  

(Does it to me every time.)

10)  If it's similarly deep and salient thoughts you want about rock music post year 2000, you'll have to talk to my son Brandon.  Or, better yet, talk to your own kid.

Our rock 'n roll hearts beat on.  And best of all,  are rocking on in a new generation as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The-Discount-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

 

Welcome to our world, Perry! 

Not so long ago, the local Super Fresh Market began providing discounts on Tuesdays to a particular class of shoppers.  You know who.

It is that class of shoppers commonly referred to by a particular word that I virulently despise and in fact eschew. But considering the discount, if the eschew fits, I decided to wear it.  So I screwed up my courage, swallowed my pride,  decided not to come up with a third sexually based metaphor, and went food shopping.

That is, food shopping on Tuesday at Super Fresh, to avail myself of The Discount-That-Must-Not-Be-Named.

When I arrived, Super Fresh was already awash in polyester, plaid, and a profusion of  gray and blue hair such as if a massive ballpoint pen had exploded in the skies over London.   Everywhere I looked were members of the Greatest and slightly post Greatest Generation.

So naturally I began humming Sugar Magnolia by the Grateful Dead.  You see, there’s nothing like humming 40 year old rock music to prove conclusively to one and all in a Super Fresh that:

 “I AM YOUNG, GODAMMIT, I AM NOT LIKE YOU!”

I steered my carriage carefully through the Super Fresh aisles, checking prices,  picking out the products I needed, and gradually shifting over into the Rolling Stones.  In Aisle 8, I paused to ask a youngish store employee some directions.

“Gherkins?  That’s Aisle 14, sir,” he said.

“Thank you very much,” I replied.

“And they’re on sale too," he added.  "That plus the Extra Discount for being a Sen…”

“For being a what?!!!”  I wheeled about, cutting him off.  

“Sorry, sir,  what I meant was …”

I didn't stay to listen.  I hustled myself and rickety cart out of range fast as I could. Did he not hear what I was humming?  Maybe I needed not to hum, but to actually sing the lyrics? 

“… but if you try some time, you just might find, you just might find ….”

Well, what I just might find was myself next in Aisle 14, looking for the gherkins.  But up ahead coming down the aisle in the opposite direction was a leathery looking gent whose posture was such it practically bade you stick a saddle on him and ride him to the nearest glue factory.

I looked away.  I sang louder.   It didn’t matter.

“Hello, friend, ” he greeted me  cheerily.  “Didja know you get an extra 5% off here at Super Fresh?"

Oh no!  Did he view me as a new recruit?  Did he mean to be taking me under his wing? 

"You see," he went on, "you take this coupon they put in the newspaper ..."

What was he planning to do next --- baptize me into the ways of the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute?

" ... and you hand it in when you check out your groceries.  See, it says right here 'Discount for Seni ...."

I did me some wheelies and ran to the checkout counter fast as my wobbly cart would take me!  Now I sang the lyrics almost as if I were in concert.

"Drivin' that train, high on cocaine, Casey Jones…"

The checkout guy, about 25,  eyed me suspiciously as he began to total up my items. 

"That's $87. 58, sir," he said.

“Did you already give me The … umm …  Discount-That-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“The what?   Oh, sure, don’t worry, sir.  I put the Senior Citizen Discount right in.”

He said it.  He had  said it.   It hurt bad.

“Don’t you want to ask me something?" I said to him.  "Verify something?  Assure yourself of something?”

"No, you’re good, sir." 

“But shouldn't you card me?  Make sure I’m the right age to get The- Discount-That-Must- Not-Be-Named?"

"That's hardly necessary, sir."

"Card me, you fool!!   Please card me!!!”

Now I was no longer singing Casey Jones.  Nor was I singing You Can't Always Get What You Want, Sugar Magnolia,  or anything by the Grateful Dead, Rolling Stones, or any other rock group at all. 

 I was singing:

“Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wondering in the night …"

The Discount-That-Must-Not-Be-Named had won. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MySpace.com

.... You Know It Is!

Justin Timberlake is at it again!

Taking on the impossible once more,  just like when he convinced the luminous Mila Kunis (clever phrasing, that!) to accept a date with a Marine who'd asked her out via YouTube,  J.T. has now promised to recall to life the late but hardly lamented social networking site known as MySpace.com.

It's the most daunting task faced by any human being since a special exploratory commission was appointed to search for a joke in Tracy Morgan's stand-up material!

Can he succeed? Well, no less a  personage than the greatest entertainer of the 20th Century thinks so!

Ladies and gentleman,  Perry Block - Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute is so very proud to present the one and only Chairman of the Board,

MR. FRANCIS ALBERT SINATRA!

MySpace.com 
to the tune of
My Kind of Town

Now this could only happen with a guy like JT,
To resurrect a dead dot com like this!
So if you hate the Facebook, thank him most gratefully,
As he gives MySpace.com a brand new bris:

This is ....

My Space.com, you know it is!
My Space.com, you know it is!

My kind of people too.
Justin and Mila who
They beckon you!

And each time I e-roam, MySpace.com!
It's callin' me home, MySpace.com!

It's like playin' a Madden '12 CD-rom.
It's MySpace.com!

Oh, every bit of it is ....

My Space.com, you know it is!
My Space.com, you know it is!

My kind of razzmatazz,
And it has
That Timberlake pizazz!

And I'll never again leave, MySpace.com!  
It's tuggin' at my sleeve,  MySpace.com!

Don't go bein' a dumb schnook,   MySpace. com!
C'mon just shout out:

 "F*ck Facebook!" 

 MySpace.com!

One dot com for Dick, Harry, and Tom!
It’s My --- all of it is MY --- MySpace.com!!

Let’s all go!  Let’s all go!

Let's all go! 

 MYSPACE.COM!

Let's all go!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry about wimping out on the "Fuck Facebook," folks ...

Scorn Not Will Shakespeare

Da Man!

“To be or not to be? That is the question.”

"I'm going to go with 'not to be.'  Final answer."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     

If you recognized the quotation above as from the pen of the immortal Bard of Avon, William Shakespeare, you are indeed correct, sir. If on the other hand, you identified it as a quote from the pen of, say, Henry Miller, don’t ever think of going on Jeopardy. Or Millionaire.

William Shakespeare, the immortal Bard, is recognized as the greatest playwright and poet the English language has ever known! Actually that sounds more impressive than it actually is. The English language has always been pretty much of a loner who frankly never knew all that many people, let alone hoity-toity poets and playwrights.

So you’d have to have gone to a birthday party for the English language to see if anybody showed up who was serious competition for Shakespeare. Did the English language even know Henry Miller?

Still, we can all agree that this Shakespeare guy was pretty good. In his scant 52 years of life, he authored some of the world’s greatest plays: Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Othello …. umm, umm …. did I mention Hamlet?

Of course, he had the occasional clunker. How many of you have ever gone to a high school production of Timon of Athens? Known by scholars worldwide as “Shakespeare’s MacGruber,” Timon of Athens has the distinction of being the only Shakespearean work ever made into a movie by Ed Wood --- that is, after he renamed it Plan 9 from Outer Space. (Note: There is some historical evidence this was in fact Shakespeare’s working title.)

But pay it no heed. To honor the man himself, we bring you a passel of passages (actually only two) from his most rib ticklin’ o’ works. So scorn not Will Shakespeare.

In fact, please give it up for him!


Hath not a Jew Eyes
From The Merchant of Venice, Act III, Scene I.
As spoken by Shylock the Jew.
(Yeah, I know. This was not particularly good for the Jews.)

“Hath not a Jew eyes?” ~ I hath, but they’re sunken and deep set and badly in need of an eye job.

“Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?” ~ I hath at least 2 out of 6!

“Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons?” ~ Between the two of these,  I'd go with the one where you get corned beef.

“Subject to the same diseases?” ~ And me even more so, because I’m a hypochondriac!

“Healed by the same means?” ~ You mean you go to Dr. Schwartzman too?

“Warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer?” ~ Yeah, true, but we’re probably not vacationing at the same spots.

“If you prick us, do we not bleed?” ~ That's okay, no need to prick me to check this out.  Hey, don't you prick me, you prick!

“If you tickle us, do we not laugh?” ~ Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh you great big crazy gentile cutie pie, stop it!!

“If you poison us, do we not die?” ~ Again, really appreciate your offer but no demonstration necessary!

“And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” ~ You betcha! Meet my good friend Mel Hirschman, Head of the Gentile Auditing Division of the United States Internal Revenue Service! Got a desk for him to work at?

Various and Sundry from Caesar
From Julius Caesar, roaming at random.
As spoken by Caesar and Mark Antony. Mark them well!

"Let me have men about me that are fat." ~ Governor Chris Christie? I said 'men who are fat,' not the great globe itself!

"Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look." ~  Yon Cassius hath no doubt just come from either Olive Garden or Applebee's.  No wonder he's starved!

“Et tu, Brute?" ~ Well, Brutus, you sure as hell can forget about those Phillies tickets I promised!”

"O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth ..." ~  Bleeding piece of earth? You might want to think about changing gardeners.

"And Caesar's spirit ranging for revenge, with Ate by his side come hot from Hell!" ~  Ate by his side? Actually we're thinking Ate might get his own show instead of staying on as Caesar's sidekick. 
  
"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen, lend me your ears!” ~ I promise to give them back but not before sticking them in my mouth, just like when I borrow a pencil.

“Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.” ~ And in fact, right now, we’re showing marvelous results with Teflon!

“This was the noblest Roman of them all!” ~ But the one and only Chairman of the Board, ladies and gentleman, is still .... MR. FRANK SINATRA! 

And that's it! I hope you’ve enjoyed getting up close and personal with the immortal Bard of Avon.

Frankly, the guy’s one hell of a straight man!

~~~~~~~~~~