The Music For The Freak Out

Here are two fine tunes from the Golden Age of Hippie Exploitation Cinema.

The Glass Bottle performs this track from the film , The People Next Door. It tells a tripped out tale of young hippies freaking out and their suburban parents who must deal with the freaking.



A soundtrack record was released and it is not as hard to find as you might expect. I found one a few years ago and I barely leave the house.



The song used to highlight the moves of Meg Foster in the film Thumb Tripping has (as far as I know) never been released on LP or CD.




The music was written by Bob Thompson. He is known (well, to me at least) as the fellow who composed music that would be the soundtrack to some one wondering about on a giant marshmallow while zonked to the gills on painkillers and vodka cocktails:



The lyrics to the tune were written by Jerry Fuller. I'm guessing this is the same Jerry Fuller who wrote the song, Traveling Man, that Ricky Nelson took to the top of the charts. A quick look at Fuller's bio tells me it must be the same fellow. It looks like he is a person who likes to keep busy.

Beyond the tunes, though, there is Bruce Dern:



And that should sober you up real quick!

In a World Without Hope...and Pants!

There are moments when just looking at this photo cheers me up.

Five Things To Do This Summer

1.  I have been meaning to go back and re-read a few of Stephen King's novels.  I lost track of the fellow around 1987.  I was a consistant reader of everything he did up until then. I don't exactly know what made my attention wander.  I guess it was the fact I had to focus on the readings I was assigned in college.  I took a class on American Realism and Naturalism in 1988.  It blew my mind.  I spent years trudging about in the tenement houses of the past.  This recent list of all of his novels ranked all 62 of in order from worst to best made me want to not only re-read but check out some of the books I missed in all those years spent mucking it up in the past.  I certainly agree with the listmakers number one choice...

2.  I want to see more Fellini films:




3. I want to know more about Professor Irwin Corey:




4. I want to buy more records locally. Cleveland is home to more than a few fine record stores. Dig:

Bent Crayon

Blue Arrow Records

Hausfrau Record Shop

Music Saves

My Mind's Eye Records

Five record stores selling records and not a one of them carries exactly the same thing. This is glorious.

5. It is also a goal of mine to spend more time on my front porch in the early hours of the night sipping Ithaca Beer Company's Flower Power IPA. I'm not one to faun over alcoholic beverages, but this one has the pizzazz that makes my palate sing!

A Few Poems From Mo Watson's Book, Martian Beer and Pizza.

Dieting

Ralph began the
awful task
of digging
the hole
he wondered
with
shovel in filthy
fat hand
with sweat pouring from
his massive brow
if there was a way to
figure exactly
how many calories he
was burning digging
this deep hole
for the body of
his
dead
best
friend

Condiments

I do not
relish
drama
I prefer
to put
mustard
on it.

Martian Beer and Pizza

When they
arrived
by the
thousands in
their cigar-shaped
ships
they beamed a terrible
message that
all of us could hear
and understand
they came
for the water and
something
awesome
that was contained
in the earth's
core
the voice said
we
must crack
the earth
like an egg to
get
it
so
sorry
humans
the earth
as you know it is
through
but
the voice went on
to say
there will be
free
beer and
pizza available to
all
until you are
blotted out
for all time
I
for one
was
cool
with
that.

From Mo Watson's book, Martian Beer and Pizza. Published in 2010 by Please Remove Your Hat Lady, I Can't See the Movie Press

The Ghouls in My Haberdashery Dictionary

Funky:



Incongruous:



Maudlin:

Acid Jam...Again!

Word is this was a big underground hit in Germany at the time.  I would have liked to have been at that underground party.    

Saccharine Everythings, Part 48 or Maelstrom Shmaelstrom I'm Taking a Nap.

I long to screw up a snooty society party.



I forget where I snagged this photo. All I can say is that there is something about it that makes me depressed.



I began College in 1987. I was ready academically, but emotionally I was a wreck. My father died that year. The woman I was dating (who was ten years older than me) broke up with me the day before my first class. I felt (quoting the great Richard Brautigan here) "like a sewing machine that's just finished sewing a turd to a garbage can lid.”

The College's library had a copy of the book pictured above. I spent a lot of time in the library back then. More specifically, I spent time in the libraries smoking room. It's hard to imagine one could lite up a butt in a room in close proximity to microfilms and rare research texts, but it was the case back then...

I spent much of the time with that book, a book that contained critical studies of Leonard Cohen's novels and poems, and a collection of English dirty limericks that dated back to the Victorian era.

Each one helped me out of a depression so thick and deep that I could actually cut slices of it and serve it as a party snack. 

Depression (when served hot) tastes like French pastries.

I miss spending hours in libraries and smoking cigarettes.



Now - in 2012 - this is the sort of thing that washes the blues away