Real Interviews with Bloggers: Dale + CP August 23, 2007

Not to be outdone by Bubs, Dale emailed me some interview questions last August. So as not to make him wait an entire year as did Bubs, I am now getting started on these - and it's only May!

1. You have quite a musical household on the go. Apart from your piano and George's clarinet, do either of you play other instruments or compose? What are the odds of getting Mama Gin up on top of the piano a la Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys for a video blog?
Both George and I have extensive musical backgrounds. I started on the violin at age 6, when my dad used to teach the Suzuki method to young kids. My real love became the piano soon thereafter, however, and I played semi-seriously through the end of college. I always wanted to try a wind instrument but never got around to it. I didn't get this lazy without years of practicing my procrastination.

George started the clarinet in 7th grade and always loved it as well. He plays some piano but never had any formal training. He plays several varieties of clarinet, including the bass clarinet featured in this Mama Gin video.

Although George is the professional musician in the house, I am the only composer (though George has dabbled a bit too.) My genre is pop. Schlocky pop. My songs all kind of suck, but here are the titles. Tell me which one will make the top 40:

The Change
Goodbye (v. melodramatic)
Hawaii 1998 (I cry whenever I try to play it; is that retarded or what?)
The Good Son (stupid title, though it is mine)
Change of Heart
Rodeo Cowboy (really stupid song but I kind of like it. Lyrics are not mine.)
Angel
A Whisper in Time (stupidest song and title ever. Not mine.)
Falls on You
All I Gave You Was Nothing
Midnight Love

All of the music is my own. I also wrote all of the lyrics on Hawaii 1998, The Good Son, Falls on You, All I Gave You Was Nothing and Midnight Love. The lyrics to the other songs were either collaborative or taken entirely from a lyricist. It's true that coming up with the lyrics is the hardest part of writing music.

I also do a fair amount of arranging. I am asked to play for weddings quite often. If you are very close to me I will do it out of guilt but I won't enjoy it. Among other things, it means I can't drink at the rehearsal dinner for fear that I won't play well the next day at the wedding. If anyone asks me to play and I am not close to them, I will say no.

Next weekend George and I are providing all the music at my cousin's wedding, and I did all the arranging. The bride requested "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure, so I wrote an arrangement of it for piano, clarinet and cello. It's going to be very frightening. (Post wedding-note: it went very well, but still sounded like Muzak.)

Mama Gin would LOVE to collaborate with us. She used to come in to the apartment, sit down at the piano for about an hour and two-finger plunk out the melody to "Silent Night." Every now and again she sits down on the piano bench next to Poor George and "instructs" him. I need to capture that on video.


2. At one point, you were hoping to branch out into producing Cheesy Made for TV Movies with Mindy June. Does the dream still live? If so, please provide a title and pitch. You are aware that things haven't been going so well in the career or talent department for Shannen Doherty lately, right?
"Does the dream still live?" When have we EVER let a dream die over here at CPW, Dale? Do you kiss your mother with that mouth of yours?

Although Mindy and I have not discussed titles or themes for several years, the dream is still alive and well - and now that Mindy is looking for work the time may be ripe.

Last she and I were cooking up something along these lines, it was a sitcom. It was going to be like a "Friends" but much more edgy, with characters taken from our real life circle of acquaintances. Whenever we would meet to flesh out the characters and themes, though, Mindy would invariably spend 90% of the time talking about all the hilarious things her character was going to do. Soon I grew resentful, and stopped participating.

Hey, maybe that can be the theme. What should we call it? Fags and Hags?


3. Gordon Ramsay is coming to dinner. What culinary delights would you serve and what type of new cocktail would be most appropriate for the occasion?
If Gordon were coming for dinner, George would be required to cook. Although I have become a much better cook over the past decade based on techniques I have picked up from my very own resident chef, I would not have the cahones to cook for a Food TV star (except for Rachael Ray, of course.)

I would, however, ply him with cocktails. (See this story for an example.) In fact, let me take this opportunity to answer a question posed to me over a year ago by Lulu during her award winning interview with me: "You are known far and wide as a mixologist without peer. If you were to make me a "Coaster Punchman," what would be in it, and how would it be served?"

I have finally made my decision. I can't take full credit for this cocktail, as a version of it was first served to me at the now-defunct Fez Cafe in New York. It is a delicious combination of vodka, Cointreau, fresh lime and Chambord, shaken over ice and served straight up in a martini glass. Since I can't locate a recipe for their old cocktail anywhere on the Internets, I am now claiming it as my own and will serve one to any of my Gentle Readers upon demand - provided you come over or invite me to your house.


4. If you had to appear as a contestant or a panelist on a game show, past or present, which would it be?
Let me qualify this by saying I hate game shows. I think they are a huge waste of time. That being said, there are several likely candidates. Of course any of the shows that would allow me to make sarcastic comments would be eligible. The Dr. Phil Show comes to mind immediately. Or maybe Judge Judy.


5. I'm always too frightened to make use of those 'need a penny, take a penny' containers like the one at my Korean Bagel Lady's shop and would rather overpay than make correct change. Sometimes there are even one and two dollar coins in there which must be some sort of trick. Do you use them?
First off, please quit touting that stupid Korean wench in your pathetic efforts to combat the popularity of The Mama Gin Files. Everyone knows that I, Coaster Punchman, have cornered the market on finding humor in the mocking of elderly Asian women with limited English language skills. Step off, bitch.

Second, what is it with you Canadian, Europeans and everyone else on the damn globe with using the higher value coins instead of bills? Don't y'all know what a pain in the ass it is to walk around jingling like some two-bit whore due to all the loose change you have to hold in your pocket?

Go back to dollar bills like sensible people. Yes, we Americans have flirted with such travesties as the Susan B. and the Sacajawea dollars, only to enrich the pockets of hundreds of newsstand vendors who receive grosses of them in error from people who think they are handing over quarters. Until the people revolt and stop using them.

But I digress. Yes, I do use those things and in fact just used one yesterday when I removed four (4!) pennies from one without the slightest wince from the counter clerk. All I can say is, live dangerously, Dale. It's much more fun.


Bonus Question: Am I insane? Bonus answer: I don't know. Take this quiz and let me know how you do.

Fun with Funerals

Mr. Social Zymurgy challenged me to list the songs I would like played at my funeral. I didn't know what to do with the question so I ignored it as any good cyberstalker would do. But after seeing other blog friends like Bubs and Dale rise to the challenge, I decided I am just as good as they are and am therefore entitled to share my funeral music choices with you, my Gentle Readers.

Mindy June and I were discussing this very topic recently after the funeral of her beloved father, may he rest in peace. Participating in funerals inevitably makes you think about your own, so with that in mind Mindy told me some of her last wishes. She wants to be cremated and then for all of her loved ones to take a portion of her ashes and sprinkle them somewhere they know would make her laugh - like over Ronald Reagan's grave and that sort of thing.


Brilliant idea, and I'd expect nothing less from her.


Whether or not I deserve the honor, I will nonetheless take partial credit for Melinda June's creative decisions with respect to her inevitable demise. This is because back when she and I were 20 year old college students, I decided it would be a good idea to make a list of the people who would attend my funeral if I died right then. I shared the list with Mindy, who was puzzled by it.

"What on earth would make you want to do this?" she asked.

"I think it's important to keep tabs on your life, and this is one way to do it," I replied. "If you can keep enough people around who would feel obligated to attend your funeral, you must be doing pretty well."

"So you're judging the happiness of your life by who will show up after you're dead?"

"Yes."

"Ok. Let me see it." Not being one to waste time asking a lot of unnecessary questions, Mindy rose to the challenge and started helping me refine my funeral attendee list.


"Why is Marla on here?"

"She's a friend of Jon's. I figured she'd go with him and his other friends."

"Yeah, but she hates you. She's still mad about that time you laughed at her sweater vest."

"I wasn't laughing at her sweater vest. I was laughing because KC threw up on you when you were wearing a sweater vest. They always make me laugh now."

"I know that, but she still thought you were laughing at her. She's not going." Marla's name was crossed off. "And why isn't Kirsten from down the hall on here?"

"I don't know - she's the type who would probably go to my wedding if she was invited and had a cute date, but I don't know if she'd get it together enough to make it to a funeral on time."

"You're right. So she'll go on the wedding list. Who is Leo?"


And so we spent the next several hours. Back then it felt like a wise time investment - you could never be too prepared, in my book. You know, that whole Boy-Scout-Motto thing.


Eventually I lost track of my funeral attendee list, which I'm sure has changed substantially over the past 20+ years anyway. But Mindy's recent decision about her own funeral did get me to thinking about mine.

I decided that George can plan whatever traditional funeral he wants for me, with all the attendant wailing and sobbing - the more dramatic the better, in my opinion. But I'm taking charge of the after-party. Here's how it will go:

My funeral after-party will be a piano bar sing-along, show tunes only. The kind that they do at Marie's Crisis - you get a bunch of show-tune obsessed queens and their friends to sing the entire book of a musical, one after the other. Drinking heavily all the while, of course.

I've already enlisted the future services of my not-cousin Marnie, a showbiz professional who runs her own theater. Marnie has been charged with renting out the space, hiring a pianist, making copies of the lyrics to all my favorite shows and gathering everyone together. When they get to "Annie" she'll have some pre-teen girls or drag queens or something act out "Hard Knock Life" with metal buckets and brushes and all that jazz. Of course, the rest of you will be welcome to join in at any time.


My funeral after-party is going to kick major ass. Be sure to keep being my friend so that you will receive an invitation.

Tammy Faye 1942-2007

Tammy Faye in one of her prettier moments

When Dale first told me that Tammy Faye was going to do a live interview on Larry King while she was very sick, I laughed and made some kind of joke about her clown makeup.

Today I decided to YouTube her and watch the interview, which as it turns out took place less than 24 hours before she died.


Oh my God, am I a mess.


Let's just say that if I wore Tammy Faye's flavor of eye makeup, I'd have black streaks a mile long down my entire face.


I've always considered myself a reasonably good judge of character. Although I'm sure it's mostly just an "opposites attract" kind of thing, I usually feel drawn to good people. I've never met Tammy Faye in person, but I've always kind of liked her - mainly because she comes across as so genuine. Satan himself would probably have grown tired of faking all that emotion over the years.

Now as every Gentle Reader of this blog surely knows, I derive a substantial amount of enjoyment in poking fun at Kristians (see the footnote to this post for a definition of that term.) But despite the fact that Tammy spent too much of her life in bed with the Kristians, namely her ex-husband Jim Bakker, I don't think she was much of one herself.

For one, she didn't hate fags and dykes nearly enough to be a Kristian. Even way back during her televangelist days in the 1980s, she asked her viewers to stop picking on the gays and urged people to start showing some sympathy and compassion. Tammy even hosted people with AIDS on the PTL show and encouraged Kristians to pray for the sick. ("Sick" as in having a physical disease, not "sick" in the Ted Haggard sense of the word.)

Further, Tammy later developed close friendships with several gay men and even co-hosted a TV talk show with one for a short while. When asked by one of Larry King's viewers why she had chosen to embrace gay people, she replied that they were the ones who showed her the most support during her lowest periods, and that she would always love them for it.

(Ok, so she didn't realize most of this "support" came from the throngs of drag queens and fashionistas out to mock her criminal sense of style. But that's all water under the bridge.)

In short, Tammy Faye was a nice lady. Yes, she was flawed. Yes, she got mixed up with the wrong people for much of her life. Yes, she made a lot of terrible mistakes, some of them bordering on the felonious. Yes, she could have done more to relieve suffering as a devout Christian might be wont to do. And yes, she seemingly acquired her make-up application skills directly from an overfed court jester.


But through it all, she was nice. And that has to count for something. A lot, if you ask me.


Even though Tammy Faye aligned herself with Kristians for too many years, I believe she was always a Christian because she concerned herself with such novel concepts as compassion, trust in the Lord, and the love of Christ. Those are the kinds of things Tammy Faye talked about when discussing her faith. Unlike too many of her Kristian cohorts, she searched for ways to practice her religion without obsessing over whose dick belongs where.

Just think what the world would be like if every Kristian decided to take Tammy Faye's approach while preaching the Gospel.


Rest in peace, Tammy Faye.

Music Meme

Dale tagged me. I normally don't play along on these music tags, but for Dale, anything.

What was the first recorded music you bought?

A 45 of "Disco Duck" by Rick Dees, 1976.


What was the last music you bought?
I downloaded three albums from iTunes the night before I went to see Mindy:

• Elliott Yamin: (self-titled debut) - worth a listen.
• Gladys Knight: Before Me - her new jazz album
• Belinda Carlisle: Voilà - new album of French standards, sung entirely in French. How could one possibly resist this?
  

What was the first "professional" music show you ever went to?
Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Don't remember what they performed.


What was the last?
Beat Circus at a small club in NYC. A friend of ours plays in the band.


What's your "desert island" album?
Impossible to answer; how could you not get sick of only one album? But if I had to grab something on the way out of a burning building, it would probably be

Nat King Cole Trio: After Midnight


Dave Brubeck Quartet: Time Out


Red Hot & Blue: Tribute to Cole Porter


What's your favorite album/song title? (the *title* , not the actual album or song).
Like Dale, didn't give this much thought. I'd probably say "Not Fade Away" by Buddy Holly, because it's just a strange song title. Simple and strange. Just like me.


What's your favourite album art (include an image of it if you can)?
See Brubeck's "Time Out" above. Also, who could ever forget this?


Ideal choice for a karaoke song?
Me and Mrs. Jones, especially when my Mom sings it.


Song you don't like that WILL NOT LEAVE YOUR HEAD if you hear it.
Every Breath You Take. Blech.


Which is cooler? -- Vinyl? CD? Cassette? 8-track?
Which is cooler? What is this, junior high? If I had to choose I would say 8-track. Mindy's parents had one and we listened to a Barry Manilow 8-track during dinner the first time I visited her family. When Mindy started belting out "Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?" along with Barry, at the top of her lungs, her mom made us turn it off. Good times.



I tag Mindy June and Katie Schwartz.

Drill, bill & feel

I regularly siphon my blogging ideas off of our friend Dale. My most recent attempt at near-plagiarism was the result of his recent goofy-parent-story, which inspired me to relate a goofy-parent-story about my friend Kapa's visit to her childhood dentist.

Never a blogger to be outdone, Dale took my theme of near-plagiarism to a new level by latching onto my dentist-story idea and writing about some of his favorite dentists.

Well Dale, here's to you. I see your dentist story and raise you one that involves bad touches. Let's see where you go with this.


********

My childhood dentist had a small practice with two other dentists. When I was a senior in high school, one of the three retired and was replaced by a vigorous young man who was not completely unfortunate-looking.

One day I showed up at the office for some routine maintenance to find that my regular dentist was out and had passed me on to the young strapping Dr. A, who greeted me with a hearty handshake and a slap on the back.

He chatted me up quite animatedly while he prepared the usual instruments of torture. Asked me about school and my upcoming departure for college. Noted that my family had been coming to their office for many years. Talked about his wife & kids. Asked me more questions about how I spent my free time. That sort of thing. Dr. A really seemed to like me quite a bit.

When we had completed our business activities, I got up out of the chair. Dr. A grabbed my hand, shook it heartily, looked me straight in the eye and said "Well Tom, enjoy college and be SURE to come see us when you're home on vacations."

"Ok, will do," I replied, curious about the unusual amount of enthusiasm Dr. A was displaying.

As I turned to leave, I felt his hand give me a little slap on the behind. And if I'm not mistaken, his hand lingered there post-slap for a second or so.


I'm fairly certain that Dr. A copped a feel.


I wasn't offended, as much as confused. "Did the family dentist really cop a feel?" I thought to myself for years.


*********

Both of my parents still go to Dr. A. I haven't seen him since that day in 1984, which would now be 23 years ago. But just the other day, my dad told me "Hey Thomas, I saw Dr. A the other day and he asked how you were. He always does."

So Dale, while one or more of your childhood dentists may have been sadists, mine has been fantasizing about me for over 20 years. How many of us can say that?

Of course this means I can never see Dr. A again. Getting a close-up look at me today would only serve to ruin his fantasies, and that would be wrong.

Sometimes in life you simply need to take a stand.

Kapa's weird parents

Dale recently posted a funny story about yet another Seinfeldian interaction he had with his parents. As we have reviewed previously, I am incapable of developing original ideas and therefore need to rely on my blogger friends to inspire me to tell my own stories.

And this time I'm not even telling my own story.

Dale's nutty conversations with his parents remind me of my friend Kapa (aka Catherine) who has been blessed with her own set of nutjobs.

Recreated below is a dialogue she enjoyed with her parents during one of the summers she was home from college when she was about 19 or 20.

*******************

Kapa: I'm going to the dentist tomorrow for my checkup and cleaning.

Mother: What dentist?

Kapa: What do you mean "what dentist?"

Mother: Which dentist are you going to?

Kapa: Mom, what are you talking about? I'm going to the same dentist I've gone to my whole life. I've never even been to another dentist - you know that.

Mother: Yes, but why are you going to him?

Kapa: ???

Mother: I heard he was being sued.

Father: I always thought that guy was a quack anyway.

Kapa: What??? Then why did you make me go to him all these years???

Mother: We never made you go, Catherine.

*****************************

If it makes any of you feel any better, I've decided that if I had kids I would make every attempt to be that weird.

I'm on New Blogger now

Grover Derwood

I was forced to switch to New Blogger this morning. I hope it doesn't give me any problems, becasue I really don't have time for this.

In other news, Dale warned me not to do "all cats all the time" on the blog. I'm just sneaking this one in for lack of any other relevant picture to post.

Did I mention my cats were cuter than all other cats combined?