Suzanne Vega and DNA, "Tom's Diner"

Some months ago, I learned the story of how the hit version of "Tom's Diner" came to be. Its author, Suzanne Vega, told the tale in a wonderful New York Times blog entry.

But "Tom's Diner" is not just a tale of two dance-remix mavens finding an a capella track and inserting a very 1990 beat behind it to score a very unlikely Top 10 hit. The more interesting story is that behind the lyrics themselves: turns out Tom's Diner is the very real Tom's Restaurant on 112th Street and Broadway in NYC - the same spot where Jerry and his friends hung out over coffee in Seinfeld. What are the odds of one restaurant having two distinct entries in the Pop Culture Vulture catalog?

Getting back to the song, a few enterprising fans heard her description of the songwriting process and got to wondering: Who was the dead movie star ("no one [Vega] had heard of")? They were able to piece together from her location of the horoscope and funnies that the paper she was reading was the New York Post, and from there deduced that the actor in question was William Holden, who had died in November 1981.

(Suzanne Vega had never heard of William Holden?)

It was November 18, 1981, that the Post reported the death of Holden, giving Vega something to read, and thus something to write about, and thus something to sing, and thus something for DNA to remix and send to the Top 10. In honor of such serendipity today, go have a cup of coffee at Tom's Restaurant.

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo ...

Machine, "There But for the Grace of God Go I"

The passage of Proposition 8 in California brought me great sadness. I was not affected personally, materially; but its passage was an affront to all of us who either enter into or simply believe in the validity of same-sex unions. I'm fatigued by the rationalizations for Prop 8's support:

The Bible says, Thou shalt not lie down with a blah blah blah. Separation of church and state: it's not just a good idea; it's the law.

I believe in protecting the institution of marriage. From what? Last I checked, no one was imperiling or trying to invalidate any straight marriages.

Marriage should be for a man and a woman because that's how procreation happens. Specious logic; do we then invalidate marriage for those who physically cannot have children? Marriages of the elderly?

Gay men have the right to marry - they have the right to marry women. Great, so you want more Jim and Dina McGreevys. Wise.

Gays are promiscuous. Not more so than other guys. But even if we were - you wouldn't want us to marry and change that a little bit?

I don't want to have to explain to my child why those two men are holding hands or those two women are kissing. Your parents in the 1960s probably didn't want to have to explain to you why that black woman and that white man were holding hands and kissing. Sorry, but it's an increasingly diverse and multicultural world, and your fear of complication does not trump my civil rights.

Now, I would be OK with a compromise that leaves "marriage" for religious faiths to decide and legitimizes "civil unions" for the legal aspects. In fact, I think that's the compromise that ultimately we as a culture will come to. But until then, I refuse to sit silently and countenance those who believe my love to be inferior to another's, who believe inferior or illegitimate my ability to commit heart and soul to another person, to raise a child, to be a devoted parent and upstanding member of my community, to be fully human and fully American.

No, I am not inferior, and neither is my love.

So I spent part of this weekend with thousands of others in a rally at City Hall (one of several in cities throughout the U.S.) that served less as a protest against Prop 8 and similar discriminatory measures than as a declaration of civil rights and a reminder that love is what is needed right now - but also as a message to the Mormons, Catholics, and other religious groups behind the antigay movement that we will stop their juggernaut before it threatens to trample us in other states. The nearly impromptu gathering was warming, reassuring, dare I say triumphant.

"Legalize Our Love," a call for marriage equality from the husband-and-wife duo Timbuk 3, might have been a better reflection today of the partnership longings expressed at Saturday's rallies. But instead I've gone with "There But for the Grace of God Go I," a too-clever-for-its-own-good slice of discofied social commentary written by August (Kid Creole) Darnell. Buried in its squeaking groove was the story of a family who have decided to move out of the Bronx so their daughter can grow up in a presumably safer place "with no blacks, no Jews, and no gays." But you can't control who and what a person will become, and the daughter (a "natural freak") gets pregnant and takes off with some guy at 16.

I like that they call the daughter a natural freak: it's a sly reminder that we are all individuals with sexual selves, and some of us have a natural sexuality that deviates from the norm. We outliers are not products of failed parenting or of corrupted morals - we're just not the norm.

This shouldn't be so difficult to understand. But enough people are having trouble with it that they've passed laws in California (and 28 other states!) to prevent us from marrying and in Arkansas to prevent us from adopting children or being foster parents. It's frustrating to be deprived of rights by people waving their Bibles instead of opening their hearts; we who are gay in America will need our own Loving vs. Virginia to be fully integrated into society. And I hope when it happens, it has as fitting a name.

Friday Funtime: Pop Argot Declares, "Let There Be Drums!"

The death this week of Jimi Hendrix Experience drummer Mitch Mitchell occasions a celebration of some of my favorite drum performances in rock and soul. (Disclaimer: My leanings are far more toward four-on-the-floor pop than surf music or hard rock, so this will be a peculiar list to true drum aficionados.) I have sometimes criticized Mitchell for being all over the place, but when he was on, he was ON - as were the performers on these great tracks.

1. Jimi Hendrix Experience, "Fire" (drums by Mitch Mitchell)
2. Sandy Nelson, "Let There Be Drums" (drums by Sandy Nelson)
3. Billy Stewart, "Summertime" (drums by Maurice White)
4. The Four Tops, "7-Rooms of Gloom" (drums by Benny Benjamin, I think)
5. The Dells, "There Is" (drummer unknown, sorry)
6. The Doors, "Strange Days" (drums by John Densmore)
7. Steely Dan, "Aja" (drums by Steve Gadd)
8. Lighthouse, "Pretty Lady" (drums by Skip Prokop)
9. The Turtles, "She's My Girl" (drums by John Barbata)
10. The Beatles, "Got to Get You Into My Life" (drums by Ringo Starr)

The Nightmare, "Riverbottom Nightmare Band"

Christmas hit midtown NYC this week.

Like an anvil.

The decorations are beautiful for the first couple of weeks, especially in the Radio City/Rock Center neighborhood. But it's really all a bit much, especially when the throngs of gawking tourists make it nigh impossible to cross the street to get to work.

Still, the weather and the strings of lights make it clear that Christmas is a-coming, so I'll kick off the season with one of the many fabulous songs from Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas, a longtime Pop Argot household favorite. Alice Otter should get an entry of her own someday for the winsome "When the River Meets the Sea," but for now, here's the Nightmare, the unlikely winner of Frogtown Hollow's talent show with their self-descriptive ditty "Riverbottom Nightmare Band." As a friend once pointed out to me, it really strains credibility to think that a group of antagonistic glam rockers would actually win a sleepy town's Christmas talent show. But "Barbecue" and "Brothers" and the rest are in fact inferior tunes to RBNB. (Hat tip to friend Vern for inadvertently suggesting its acknowledgement.)

And I've been thinking a Behind the Scenes/where-are-they-now treatment of the RBNB is long overdue.

[ETA: I fixed a couple errors in this after posting - really oughta go back and watch that in its entirety.]

Linda Ronstadt, "Hurt So Bad"

Linda Ronstadt is one of those artists I've known since my very earliest musical memories began. But my appreciation of her has waned over the years, ever since realizing that (a) nearly all of her hits were covers (I hadn't realized this in the '70s and early '80s, not that it would have been so important to me then), and, more pertinent, (b) she harbored a grating tendency on her rockers to shout instead of sing.

Indeed, she yells her way through the second half of "Hurt So Bad," a song I've adored for a very long time in its many incarnations, from Little Anthony & the Imperials' superior original to the Lettermen's combed-over softie take (which I knew early on via my mother's 8-tracks). And I have to say, Linda's insistence on forcing her eyes shut throughout the video was a questionable decision - I figure she was overacting the idea that she can't bear to see him again. Still and all, it's a phenomenal piece of succinct songwriting, and no matter who's singing it, it's chills down the spine to hear that desperate staccato pleading: "Please. Don't. Go. Please. Don't. GOOOOO!"

I've been thinking that that one line is where it's at today.

Freda Payne, "Bring the Boys Home"

I am on the whole a pacifist, but I respect the tremendous sacrifices made by the men and women of our military, and the best way I can express my appreciation for those currently in service is to offer a wish that they return home soon. President-elect Obama, I'll trust the judgment of you and the military leaders to sort out the details, but please, as soon as it's safe, heed the words of Freda Payne* and Bring the Boys Home. Meantime, I thank all our veterans for making what in many cases were the ultimate sacrifices to ensure our liberty here.

* Or, as a friend likes to call her, "she-took-two-aspirins-and-now-she's Freda Payne."

Todd Rundgren, "Hello It's Me"

Hello, it's D*: Please give a warm welcome to my friend Dave*, on whose blog 40 Years Ago Today I guest-blogged last year. He's a close friend and a fellow miner in pop-culture arcana, and here he provides a terrific take on a song that debuted on the charts 35 years ago this week.

_____

10 years ago this fall, That '70s Show debuted. Pop Argot and I were both very curious to see it, to see if the producers had accurately depicted a time we're both very interested in. As it happens, PA couldn't see the first episode, so I gave him my impressions.

"They did a good job," I said, "except the plot centered around the protagonists going to a Todd Rundgren concert."

"Well, that's a good thing," PA answered. "They put some thought into it. They didn't go with the obvious choice like Frampton or KISS."

"Yeah, but ... they were using "Hello, It's Me" as a love song!"

We agreed that was pretty messed up, and looking back now on what became a very successful series, I still wonder what they were thinking - having Jackie claim she and Kelso were making out to the song, or playing it the background as Eric lounged on the Vista cruiser in lovebliss. Though it is a very '70s song, "Hello, It's Me" is not that kind of song. At all.

When I think of the '70s, the first image in my mind's eye is people wearing unattractive clothes during autumn. I know in theory that only one-quarter of the decade occurred during the fall, but for some reason, that's the way I'm predisposed to see it. Partly it's because the decade’s primary colors were all earth tones, the kinds of yellow, orange and brown that dominate fall. But largely it's because I think of the '70s as an autumnal decade. A decade of regrets. A decade of people trying to forget failed dreams. A divorce decade.

The '70s were a divorce decade. The divorce rate began rising the late '60s and then started soaring the early '70s, eventually hitting a double peak in '79 and '81 and declining steadily thereafter. All kinds of people were getting divorced in the '70s: Members of the GI generation who found once the kids were gone, there was no reason to stay married; Silents who discovered the social context for the marriages no longer existed; Baby Boomers who had gotten together during the optimistic '60s and found their love disappeared with that spirit of that era.

"Hello, It's Me" is a divorce song. That's why it I found it baffling the writers of That '70s Show used it as a love song. For me, it's more than a standard breakup song. It's about that sense of giving up, of losing the past, about something that is being given up at great cost.

When I hear the song, I see a story. It's sometime around 1972. They were a Movement couple. They marched together, worked together and eventually fell in love.

But then the Movement ended and they began drifting apart. One of them tried a career; the other didn't support it. One of them got into TM or est; the other thought it was bullshit. Money and sex became faultlines, as they often do. The house began to fill up with the frost that comes from realizing your least favorite person in the world is the one on the other side of your bed.

After one more screaming fight, he stormed out and took a long walk through the grey-cotton November afternoon. On the way, he had a moment of clarity. He knew what he had to do. It would be hard, but at least they wouldn't have to hate each other anymore.

He went back to the house and told her.

It's important to me
That you know you are free

Then he packed a suitcase and left, shuffling his feet through banks of fallen leaves.

Friday Funtime: Pop Argot Gives the Gas Face

OK, not so "fun" this time. But while I'm delighted and relieved by the election of Barack Obama to be our next President, I'm displeased with other voting results of this week and I remain disgusted by the behavior of a lot of people in recent weeks and months. If I may call out a few of them, here are some people who get the Gas Face from me:

1. The voters of Arkansas who approved a ballot measure that forbids nonmarried adults living together from being adoptive or foster parents. The ban was specifically aimed at gay men and lesbians. Congratulations, Arkansans, on deciding that a child is better off homeless than in the home of a gay person.

2. The voters of California who said Yes on 8, deciding that gay marriages are sufficiently threatening to their own that they Must Be Stopped Now. Especially of note is a quote from Pam Anderson, an unfortunately named Mormon who, with her husband, donated $50,000 to the ban-gay-marriage cause - because it's for the children!

"It was a decision we made very prayerfully and carefully," said Pam Patterson, 48. "Was it an easy decision? No. But it was a clear decision, one that had so much potential to benefit our children and their children."

Ms. Patterson, fuck you. I hope all five of your sons turn out gay. And proud.

3. The guy who threatened me on Facebook because of a pro-Obama comment I made there. Fucking psycho.

4. Elizabeth Dole, you shameless harridan. Calling your opponent "godless" is low, even for a modern-day Republican. How do you sleep?

5. Michelle Bachmann, you lunatic McCarthyite. Same question. I see that you've been re-elected; so will you now go forward with investigations of your own President?

6. Sarah Palin, I am so very grateful we won't have an End Times dominionist a heart attack away from the presidency.

7. All investment bankers. We made fun of you twerps for spending thousands of your own dollars on the "bottles & models" lifestyle, but we didn't realize how many of OUR dollars you pissed away. Pop those collars, assholes. (And hey, Donald Trump, you fraud, I'll lump you in here too.)

8. The AIG executives who treated themselves to a high-end spa-resort weekend immediatey after the taxpayers bailed out their goddamned company. You're a great symbol of why there's so much distrust right now that the bailout is actually going to help hardworking Americans.

9. Bill O'Reilly, you're another great symbol of all that's wrong today: you and your ilk have poisoned the national dialogue, which is to say that it's no longer a dialogue but people trying to out-bluster each other.

10. And finally, George W. Bush. You illiterate, uncurious hack. You inherited an America that was admired and revered throughout the world, and dissipated every last drop of international goodwill. Start packing, you goddamned power-mad drunk. America will be better off without your misguided influence.

Marvin Gaye, "You're the Man"

President Obama.

Er, President-elect Obama.

Ah, hell. President Obama. It's got a nice ring to it, hasn't it?

Congratulations, Senator Obama, on the campaign you've run, on your ability to persuade a majority of the nation's voters that you are the right man to be running this country. I am one of the millions who believed you. Please lead with wisdom and prove us right.

But first, if I may, a word to the people running the Republican party: Please don't pretend McCain's was the best campaign that could have been run. Yes, it's a difficult economic climate, never a good thing for the incumbent party, but if you had persuaded the nation that you had a finance plan superior to Obama's, a whole lot of suffering Americans would have gotten in line behind you. Instead you focused an entire campaign on distractive elements, let your worst side show. Please take this opportunity to work with the Democrats over the next four years; we will need not only your support but your active assistance.

Now, to be honest, I have a hard time believing we can get our debt under control, reassert the stability of our banks, maintain our infrastructure, make universal health care a reality, and develop a green-tech economy, all by gingerly upticking the tax rates of the $250K-plus class. That number's gonna have to come down, far down, to include much more of the middle class, I suspect - but I'm behind Obama anyway. If that's what it takes, then that's what it takes. Best we can hope for is that getting corruption and fraud in government spending under control will give us a lot more to work with.

But let us have one night of celebration before we start setting down to business. I watched Obama's victory speech with a great sense of pride; he validated everything I've valued about him. "I will listen to you - especially when we disagree," he promised America. And to those who did not vote for him: "I hear your voices; I need your help - and I will be your President too."

Barack Obama, that's why You're the Man.

Arcadia, "Election Day"

A long national nightmare finally approaches its close. Thank you in advance for doing your civic duty on Election Day.

I voted for Barack Obama.

I voted for Barack Obama because I believe in intelligent guidance. Because I believe in leaders who seek wise counsel yet who can also draw upon themselves for wisdom and courage. Because I believe that intellectualism is a virtue.

I voted for Barack Obama because he has been courageous in addressing head-on the complex issues of race and class. Because I believe that we're about to suffer some hard times - many of us are already - and the only way we'll get through them is if we look out for each other. Because I believe that America must be America for all Americans, not only those of privilege.

I voted for Barack Obama because I don't want to bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran.

I voted for Barack Obama because his is a future of green technologies, of energy independence, of renewed and restored relationships with nations that must be our allies if we are all to live together. I believe that I will be disappointed by my utopian thinking, but I believe Barack Obama's future is far more where I'd like to be for the next four or more years than John McCain's or Sarah Palin's future.

I voted for Barack Obama because I believe in the future.

I voted for Barack Obama because he values nuance, values careful consideration. Even on an area where I disagree vehemently with him - he's opposed to gay marriage - he has indicated a willingness to discuss the matter and perhaps be persuaded. This is not "flip-flopping"; this, I believe, is a facet of true leadership. I believe in leaders who listen, and listeners who lead.

I voted for Barack Obama because the Republican party has lost its way; its goals of small government and restrained spending have given way to the wants and demands of warmongers, theocrats, dominionists, ivory-tower-jailed knobs, chicken hawks, Christianists, money worshippers, and End Times harbingers, producing a concoction of greed and fear that is utterly uglifying to many of us citizens of the world who believe in peace and freedom.

I voted for Barack Obama because this land was made for you and me.

Bruce Springsteen, "A Night With the Jersey Devil"

Some post-Devil's Night fun:

"On a stormy night in 1735, Mother Leeds gave birth to her 13th child. The child was born normal, but transformed into a creature with hooves, a horse's head, bat wings, and a forked tail. He inhabits the Pine Barrens of southern New Jersey."

Where Bruce Springsteen tells a good old-fashioned ghost story. Nice work from a guy whose impulses are impeccable. And really: Does anyone have any business looking as good at 59 as Bruce does? Don't know what he's doing, but he must be living right.

PS: Please vote smart tomorrow, everybody.