"Name that Beatle" contest!

As usual, I've been a bad blogger. Very bad!! Not only don't I post as often as I should, when I do, I post very little. Well, today's belated and overly short post is in keeping with this pattern, except for one thing -- it gives some indication as to why this is so.

And why is it? Well, basically, the halls of academe call to me with their siren song of youth productively instructed and hopefully not misspent. In other words, I am busy with my teaching duties.

But rather than tell you this, why don't I show it to you via an article that was just posted about one of my classes. The class, as you'll see, relates to my book on the Jewish Origins of Punk and it is quite nicely written and laid out. In fact, it features both a pic of the Ramones and a video of them in performance. Perhaps best of all, though, it presents me in classic Teen Beat magazine fashion. I just wish they'd asked me about my favorite color -- and fave Beatle.

Speaking of Beatles, the first person to name my favorite Fab will receive an inscribed copy of "The Heebie-Jeebies at CBGB's" -- gratis! After all, the anagram of my name isn't Ever Been Beatles* for nothing!

* Okay, okay, so it isn't spelled exactly correctly, but come on, who said Fate was a good speller.


Corrupting the morals of Jewish America's youth

Yes, I'm proud to say that apparently that's what I'm up to ... at least, according to the following article.


Then again, I guess I'm also bringing them back to the fold.



CBGB's book launch pics

Just rediscovered these photos from my book launch at CBGB's. While I shudder at the sight of me bloated, pale and out of shape (that's what you get from being chained behind a desk for two years), I thought you might be interested in some of the highlights. Not sure how to make captions, but in order of appearance are Gods & Monsters (from left, Gary Lucas, Jason Candler, Billy Ficca and Ernie Brooks), me and Ross Friedman ("Ross the Boss" of The Dictators) and me and the Bellomo sisters ("Tish & Snooky" of Manic Panic and The Sic F*cks). Oh yes, one bonus pic -- me with the salami-gram that my parents sent me from Katz's Deli. Better than a Nobel, Oscar and Grammy combined!


The Morning After ...

Just a quick note of explanation to my readers out there in blogga-land (you know who you are.)

So, I realize yesterday's entry may have come off as a bit harsh. Aside from the fact that I was genuinely annoyed by the unfair put-down I received (and it wasn't the first), I also must confess that I was pretty stressed.

During the past couple of weeks I've experienced (in rapidly ascending order): 1.) A mid-semester crunch (exams, papers, all-nighters!); 2.) The Move From Hell (80 boxes!!) and 3.) The grinding worry of my father being in the hospital(!!!) He's out now, as of today, but it was pretty scary off and on. Still, the worst has passed and bright lights are on the horizon.

With that said, I think it’s only hit me now how ragged out I've become. As a result, please don’t be surprised if I disappear for a while with a bottle of something soothing and a few classic DVDs.

I promise to return before long, back to my usual Zen-like self, letting all negativity roll off my back and down the drain.

Of course, if you believe that last bit, might I also interest you in a bridge in Brooklyn? It's highly traveled and the perfect investment in these troubled times. Just the thing to help you relax too.



This morning I received a very nasty email from one of the individuals who I interviewed for “Heebie-Jeebies.” She angrily denounced me for having wasted her time, saying I asked to see a number of her photographs then ended up using just one of them in my book. As I’d already explained to her on more than one occasion, I was looking for certain TYPES of photos and had to go with the best I could find. I’m sorry that this resulted in her time being unprofitably spent, but hey, I was doing research. That’s how it works!

Oh yes, she also called me a “JERK” and an “ASSHOLE” (in capital letters, no less) and concluded by saying that I would tell the students in my punk class “lies" just like "all the ‘supposed’ experts on punk.”

Ok, fine, this secondary player (at best) in the punk scene feels neglected and passed over. I’m sorry she feels that way. Still, why attack me? I mean, if she really thinks I'm just another “expert” who doesn't know anything, then why is she so determined to have her photos included in my book in the first place? Is money really that important to her? What about punk integrity and all that?

Speaking of money and integrity, can I point out that this person was treated to two dinners by me, including one where she drank nearly $100 worth of red wine? And that in return for those dinners and those rounds upon rounds of drinks, she "borrowed” a pre-release copy of The Ramones documentary, "End of the Century" that I’d been lent by director Michael Gramalgia with the express demand that I keep it to myself then return it ASAP?

Picture me later that night retracing my steps up and down Second Avenue, looking in gutters, in trashcans, under newspapers, hoping to perhaps find the video I thought I'd lost. Only the next morning did my dinner companion bother to tell me that she’d lifted it while I was in the bathroom and taken it home because she was determined to see how she came off in it.

Pretty stressful, as you can imagine. And pretty annoying. Still, I figured, once a punk, always a punk, and I decided to laugh the episode off, even though it had caused me to lose a night of sleep and worry that I’d alienated someone who had done me a solid.

Now I’m the “JERK” and the “ASSHOLE”!

I tell you what, my accuser, I’ll make like Lou Reed and be your mirror. Maybe then you can see how YOU look!!