Cargo Ship Full of Hot Pants

I saw that SIMPSONS episode yesterday where a ship crashes, scattering its cargo of "hot pants" all over the beach, much to the delight of the citizens of Springfield. As the episode comes to a close, the 1950s novelty song "Short Shorts" begins to play. I thought, "What a weird song! And yet it is also undeniably catchy, what with the hand claps and the full-bodied, pleasantly galumphing saxophone solo." So today I decided to look up the history of the song on the "internet." Not to be an old codger, but it does give me the chance to remind you that wikipedia is not always objective, accurate, or helpful: "On that musically fateful afternoon, Gaudio and Austin were driving up Washington Avenue in Bergenfield, New Jersey in Tom Austin's red and white 1957 Ford Fairlane 500, trying to figure out what to call the latest song they had written for their rock and roll band... Just then, two girls came strutting out of Luhmann's (the local teenage sweet shop) wearing cutoff jeans that were cut so short they were almost illegal. At that point, the song 'Short Shorts' was born." I draw your attention to "musically fateful" and the gross description of the shorts themselves, and the judgmental quality of the word "strutting." These are a few of the problems.

Official Nickname

I'm looking through some more of these old comic books that came in the mail. Did not remember that Ragman's official nickname was "The Tatterdemalion of Justice." Catchy! I'm telling you, that's how we did it in the 1970s and we just didn't care.

Foodstuffs!

Time once again for "Foodstuffs!" Just like the last "Foodstuffs!" this one features John T. Edge, who has an article about hummus in today's New York Times. Among its many incidental pleasures is discovering the existence of the U.S.A. Dry Pea and Lentil Council. They're in Idaho! Now on to more sinister "Foodstuffs!" Though I alluded to John Currence's trip to the White House in the most recent edition of "All-Star Entertainment Wrap-Up," the lighter nature of that feature did not allow me to focus on the "cilantroversy" in the White House garden. John Currence calls it "the cilantroversy," but I am afraid I am going to have to insist on the more traditional - if less catchy and clever - "CilantroGate 2010." Currence says that the cilantro in the White House garden flowered early. If I am recalling his explanation correctly, the essential oils were not being produced, causing the herb to go bitter. "That cilantro is the only thing in the administration not leaking oil," Currence, a New Orleans native, jested bleakly.

Snapping Your Fingers, Tapping Your Toes: Overrated?

I love Stephen Colbert! And I love Ornette Coleman! So it hurts my feelings when Mr. Colbert makes fun of Ornette Coleman as he does on his show from time to time with no apparent irony - that is, Mr. Colbert's "persona" and his "real self" seem to merge into one when it comes to hating on Ornette Coleman. What Mr. Colbert does sometimes on his show is play some raucous "free jazz" by Mr. Coleman and pretend to snap his fingers happily in time... the seeming point being that you can't snap your fingers and be blithe while listening to Ornette Coleman, that his music can be harsh and complicated, and that this is somehow a bad thing. Mr. Colbert seems to think - once again, without his usual irony - that Mr. Coleman would be better employed in the production of catchy little jingles for all to enjoy. In this and only this, Mr. Colbert reminds me of the pink, cherubic "public intellectual" I saw on C-Span that time, bitterly moaning and whining because he couldn't "tap his toes" to John Coltrane. One doubts that Mr. Colbert or the C-Span intellectual would go to a recital of preludes and fugues by Bach and/or Shostakovich and come out griping about not being able to snap his fingers and tap his toes, and all I'm saying is this: sometimes it's OKAY not to snap your fingers and tap your toes.

Jack No Sleep

Trying to come up with a reason why I haven't been sleeping, I heard myself say, "I'm wound up from the ground up." Then I thought, "Perhaps I have just invented this catchy phrase!" So I did the "google" on it just to be sure. Well, there were five matches for other people who have been "wound up from the ground up." So I did not invent the phrase after all. If you use the "google" properly you will soon find that you have not and cannot invent anything. It's all already on the "google." Too bad for you!

Bloglems

I'm okay, folks! I haven't "blogged" in a while because of "bloglems," which is a catchy word I just made up to desribe "problems" with a "blog." Anyway, I'm sorry to say you've missed out on quite a few musings. For example, at one point I had a song stuck in my head, and I tried to share that fact with the world, only to be defeated by "bloglems." The title of that absent "post": "There's a Song Stuck In My Head." Is it, as some brash souls in the Pendarvis Building have theorized, a loss akin to the missing plays of Sophocles? We must leave it to history to judge.