Month: July 2002

John Schneider’s terrible secret: I was a teenage fatty!

I have no idea who Tricia Harris is, but I have a feeling she’s going to be getting lots of flirty emails from men soon. (If, unlike me, you’re into gaming, check out punchbutton.)

Least tempting promotional tease ever: Tonight: You may know him as Bo Duke of “The Dukes of Hazzard” or as a top Christian music singer, but John Schneider has a secret he’s never revealed — until now. Tune in for this Larry King Live exclusive.
What could it be? Uncle Jesse’s “bad touch”? The General Lee was actually a hopped-up Datsun? Tom Wopat really can’t sing? Boss Hogg and Roscoe P. Coltrain were lovers? I wait with completely unbaited breath.

The form on my CD Mix of the Month Club signup page evidently got screwed in my host switch. I’ll fix it when I get a chance, but until then, email me if you want to sign up for the July trade.
Also, there’s a new entrant in the burgeoning mix-trading field: interchange. It certainly has a few edges on CDMOM; for one, you sign up by genre, so if you’re a big a capella fan or deep into J-pop, it’ll work better for you than the indie-rock-with-occasional-asides CDMOM. Plus, it looks like it’d be much, much easier to run, since the guy in charge won’t actually be burning, matching, and mailing CDs. (That hassle will someday be the death of CDMOM.) A lot cheaper, too.
On the other hand, you’re forced to trust other Internet people a lot more the interchange way. Some months, a full 30-40 percent of the people who sign up for CDMOM flake out and don’t mail any CDs — but there’s really no harm done, since I don’t mail CDs to anyone until I get theirs in the mail. In the interchange model (which is essentially a more detailed version of the Burn, Baby, Burn! model), some people will certainly mail out CDs and get nothing in return. (When I did the BBB swap, I sent CDs to five people and got discs back from only two of them.)

Every trivia competition has one of these guys. I hope it’s not me.

I keep meaning to update the calendar in the right-hand column, but I just don’t have much exciting coming up in the next month or so. (At least nothing definite yet.) So I’ll keep living on past glories.

This is the kind of apology you have to write when your newspaper runs a story on a fire at a mental hospital and you put the headline “Roasted Nuts” above it.

There’s a great piece (not online) in this month’s Spin (Red Hot Chili Peppers cover) on an astounding phenomenon: Morrissey’s fanbase has evidently shifted almost completely from weepy, sensitive white folks to young Latinos. I’ve got a few Smiths/Morrissey albums, but this was complete news to me, and I’m strangely fascinated by it — the thought of “Bigmouth Strikes Again” booming in the barrio is just too wonderful for words. I bet Spanish translations of Oscar Wilde are jumping off the shelf, too.
While the Spin piece isn’t online, its reporter (I think this guy) is referenced in this LA Weekly piece on a Morrissey convention in Los Angeles. Quote: “We order drinks and grab a table in the smoking lounge, where we sit and eavesdrop on a Spin reporter, nominally conducting interviews about ‘the Latino angle,’ but mainly just macking on the ladies.”
Spin, which went through a truly crappy period, actually has some terrific features nowadays, some of the best music journalism out there. If only you didn’t have to wade through 80 pages of Incubus and Korn to get to it.

A sad so long to Kelly, one of my favorite DFWbloggers, who as I type is moving to Virginia. We’ll have a drink to you at the next happy hour.

Just because I have to embarrass my friend Lisa, I feel obligated to report her dad will apparently be on Good Morning America and the Connie Chung show tomorrow. Click the link to see why.
By the way, has anyone seen that Connie Chung show? Watched it once last weekend in Rayne — that may be the worst hour of television in history. Painful to watch. I’ve always been a Chung hater, but geez, it almost seems cruel to put her out there every night. Ed Bark, as usual, has it right.