Sunday, June 26, 2011
“As a singer I tried on all these hats, these voices, these clothes, and eventually out came me.”
On the joyous occasion of her 66th birthday, this week’s “Saturday Song Selection” pays tribute to talented, and pleasant to the peepers, singer-songwriter Carly Simon. And despite the already expressed observation on her favorable physical features, I will do my best to keep this from being yet another in a growing succession of nycityman tales of teenage lust. So, in the attempt to do so, let’s begin this entry with some biographical information about the lovely and enchanting Ms. Simon (uh oh, there I go again.)
Carly was raised in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, a charming neighborhood which also happens to be the residence of nycityman’s very good friends, Joan and Scott, and while that will mean absolutely nothing to you, the reader, and has no relevance to the telling of the tale of Simon’s life, they’re great people and deserving of a shout out (as the kid’s say) whenever the opportunity should present itself. Carly, was both a child of privilege, as her father was the very Simon of “Simon and Shuster” fame (no, not the vaudeville act from the Orpheum circuit but rather the publishing house) and also a child whose family had far more than their fair share of artistic ability and creativity. Her oldest sister Joanna was a famed and accomplished opera singer. Her second sister Lucy, like Carly, is also a singer-songwriter and composer of the Broadway musical, “The Secret Garden,” as well as Carly’s partner in the short-lived musical duo, the Simon Sisters. Long before Carly Simon came to prominence with her first hit song, “The Way I’ve Always Heard it Should Be” the sister singers had some minor notoriety in 1964 with a song entitled, "Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod.” Completing the successful sibling roster is younger brother, Peter, a highly-respected professional photographer. While I would someday love to join them for a celebratory Christmas dinner, I would imagine it would be quite intimidating and perhaps possibly extremely competitive.
In the arena of awards (admit it, something we all desperately yearn for - “and the winner for most self-indulgent and pointless blog, nycityman and “…and several butcher’s aprons,“ - be still my covetous heart) Carly received the Oscar, Grammy and Golden Globe awards for “Let the River Run" the song she composed and performed for the 1988 movie “Working Girl,” the story of a large-coiffed Staten Island lass whose popularity inevitably lead us to be cursed with the tanned and mono-syllabic meanderings of the over-indulgent neanderthals of “Jersey Shore.” Other honors for Ms. Simon include the 1971 Grammy for Best New Artist, her 1994 induction into the Songwriters Hall of Fame, the 2004 Grammy Hall of Fame Award for her song, “You’re So Vain,“ and her nycityman Lifetime Achievement Award for All-Time Fetching Rock-era Performer.
One would be remiss in not mentioning Simon’s personal life as she has had a number of well-publicized relationships with, among others, Cat Stevens, Warren Beatty, Mick Jagger, Kris Kristofferson and, of course former spouse, James Taylor. Other notables who enjoyed rumored romances with Carly (warning: obvious joke set-up ahead) 60’s funnyman and Spike Jones Band member - Doodles Weaver, pop-meister Tommy Roe (that thought makes me Dizzy,) the Doodletown Pipers, the cast of TV’s “Hazel,” and an extremely young nycityman (a rumor primarily propagated by me.).
For me, Carly opened my eyes and ears to a genre of the rock field that at first was somewhat overshadowed by the standard - bass, drums, lead guitar, rhythm guitar, lead singer, male oriented rock group. It was my love and appreciation for Simon’s talent that lead me to explore other female singer-songwriters of the period – Joni Mitchell, Carole King, Melanie (ah Melanie, there’s a name that seems buried in a past era, but still truly deserves to be heard) and Dory Previn (Andre’s ex, much under-appreciated if not completely forgotten, look into her.)
I’ve been very fortunate to be able to see most of my favorite artists perform, but as Carly Simon has a famous and severe case of stage fright and so appears live fairly infrequently, it seemed destined that she would join that relatively short list of favorites that I would never get to enjoy in person. Of course, the majority of said missed singers have passed on long ago (curse you, Al Jolson, why couldn’t you hang on to 110!?) But then fortune, fate and formal-wear stepped in and Carly was mine. Based almost solely on the fact that I happen to own a tuxedo, I was asked to be a last minute seat-filler at a corporate charity event, and Ms. Simon, along with her progeny sired with Sweet Baby James, were the entertainment for the evening. Sometimes one just finds Rowan and Martin’s fickle finger of fate unexpectedly pointing your way. Not only did I get to see Carly live, but it was gratis and in a much more intimate atmosphere than any regular concert venue would have allowed. The moral of the story, I think it’s quite clear and straightly simple - a proper adult male should own a tuxedo. To quote Jack Donaghy, “It’s after six, what am I a farmer, Lemon.”
More Saturday, June 25th Birthdays -
1984 Lauren Bush - Niece of war criminal and former illegal President, George W. Bush. A concerned and active environmentalist or as she’s referred to around the Bush dinner table - the smart, communist one.
1979 Brandi Burkhardt - Miss Maryland Teen USA 1997, lovely and very talented star of my all-time favorite musical, “A Tale of Two Cities” (CD and DVD available on Amazon or click the link on the blog - you won’t be sorry.) And in a first for the almost year run of, “…and several butcher’s aprons” Brandi is a birthday celebrant that nycityman actually knows! And you thought I never left my room.
1975 Linda Cardellini - Star of “Freaks and Geeks" and “ER.” She gets a mention because “Freaks and Geeks" must be seen, Judd Apatow’s intelligent and well-written TV series is so superior to his, far too often, sophomoric film work. Plus, she’s really pretty and reminds me of my friend, Jessica. (This blog is just getting pathetically more personal with every posting, isn’t it?)
1954 Sonia Sotomayor - A native of the Bronx, she is only the third female Supreme Court justice and the first of Hispanic heritage. She’s from New York, she’s a woman, she’s Hispanic and she was appointed by Barack Obama, consequently the Right hates her, and so we more reasonable folk must honor her - if only to anger them.
From her 1973 album, “No Secrets,” reaching number 4 on the chart - Carly Simon with "The Right Thing to Do.”
Sunday, June 19, 2011
“Baby I'm a man, maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand”
Happy 69th birthday, Sir Paul, millions of us owe more thanks to you than we could ever properly express.
I’m quite confident that there is no need to tell anyone out there who Paul McCartney is or what he’s accomplished. Consequently, this “Saturday Song Selection” will be more of a personal take on McCartney than a biographical treatise.
Memories of Paul -
“There are only four people who knew what the Beatles were about anyway.”
How important were the Beatles to a certain generation? Well, I remember my first Beatle’s 45, “Love Me Do,“ on Tollie records. I remember the other early singles I owned as well, “She Loves You.“ “I Should Have Known Better,“ “Please, Please Me,“ and on and on, released on a variety of sometimes unusual and rarely heard of labels - Vee Jay, Swan, the aforementioned Tollie and, of course, Capitol - all for legal reasons far beyond the scope of understanding of a 5 year old lad. Of course, reminiscing about these initial platters is quite easy as, 45 years or so later, they are still very much in my possession, un-played for decades, but well protected in the green and white, 45rpm case with the illustration of the dancing teens on the front, some in their original sleeves.
I clearly and distinctly remember the Beatles initial appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show, and all the excitement and exhilaration leading up to it. I can recall the build up on WABC and WMCA radios and the anticipation generated by New York’s legendary disc jockeys like Murray “the K” Kaufman and Cousin Bruce Morrow. Then, there was the experience itself - plopped down, far too close, in front of that monstrous piece of furniture that housed a 25 inch television tube, while the boys themselves performed in all the grandeur and glory that black and white can muster. I still maintain that this is the very first, vivid memory of my childhood. Hopefully, there are no Roseanne-esque, toddler terrors quietly and mysteriously lurking somewhere in the deep, dark, recesses of my questionable psyche, waiting to emerge just when my collapsing career most needs the publicity.
I will pass on sharing the saga of the sad and unsuccessful quest to acquire a Beatles wig as, just a few years later, I was able to grow my own - an ability that unfortunately eludes me now.
“At the end of the Beatles, I really was done in for the first time in my life. Until then, I really was a kind of cocky sod.”
In 5th grade, we had a regular part of every school day that was set aside to first read, and then discuss, articles from that day’s New York Times - or as the Right would call it now, “Communist Indoctrination Time.” It was part of social studies, a way to comprehend current events, and perhaps something the Wasilla public school system could gain from instituting. The intent was to learn more about important topics of the day - the Vietnam War, the Nixon administration, the space program, I Dream of Jeannie (okay, maybe I imagined that, as Barbara Eden was my celebrity crush at the time. By the way, when these personal revelations become overwhelmingly pathetic, please feel free to alert me) - and that was how I first became aware of John, Paul, George and Ringo going their separate ways. For most of us this was an event whose possibility never even crossed our tiny, child minds. Like George W. Bush ascending to the presidency, like muffin-tops being a fashion choice, like “Pink Lady and Jeff” (I can hear the crickets chirping on that reference) actually being cancelled, it seemed implausible, impossible, and incomprehensible. To put it in context, while rock was not quite in its infancy, perhaps one could say it was still just in its ‘tween years, and we had yet to discover what happens when rock and rollers mature. In some sense, rockers weren’t even supposed to age, as expressed in the lyrics of the Who‘s “My Generation,” “I hope I die before I get old.” So really, fans had not yet experienced the break up of any significant rock band. I’m quite certain that my initial reaction was simply a refusal to accept the news. The Beatles disbanding would be as hurtful and unlikely to a trusting child as the idea of the Mets ever trading Tom Seaver (that one still stings.)
Paul confirms my belief that I’m fortunate to reside in the coolest place in the world
“I never look forward, because I have no idea about how any of it happened to getting here. I've no idea how the next five years are going to be.”
Much like Little Jackie Paper left Puff (say, wait a minute, that does sound like it’s about marijuana! For shame Peter Yarrow! Well, at least we know “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” couldn’t be about any illegal substances) we all eventually grow up and leave the trauma of such childhood trivialities behind. In the meanwhile, Paul continues to record and perform - and while nothing could ever surpass the historic, iconic phenomenon that was the Beatles - he’s produced decades of great and memorable music and, perhaps, my favorite and most unexpected McCartney memory of all. Imagine it’s a typical work day, you leave your place of employment; step outside into the evening’s bustling, rush hour city streets, only to find yourself somewhat shockingly and surprisingly, serenaded by the sounds of “Get Back” wafting through the New York air. And, most fortuitously, thanks to the advantageous and serendipitous location of the Ed Sullivan Theatre in relation to both work place and home, you get to enjoy McCartney’s live performance, as clearly as if you held ticket in hand, as you leisurely stride to your apartment. And in a sense, in that evening, it all came full circle - what began at the Ed Sullivan Theatre for a 5 year old, continued at the Ed Sullivan Theater for a 50 year old.
From, “McCartney,” Paul’s first solo album, released on April 17, 1970 - “Maybe I’m Amazed.”
Saturday, June 11, 2011
“I learned my lesson, it left a scar
Now I see how you really are”
The time: 1975. The place: my suburban, adolescent bedroom (no worries, as always today’s entry shall remain family friendly.) The event: the meticulous hanging and displaying of a new, Spencer Gifts-purchased, Linda Ronstadt poster. And so, on this memorable and momentous occasion, one boy inches ever so closer to becoming a young man as his Jerry West, Wilt Chamberlain, Tom Seaver and Joe Namath images adjust to sharing precious wall acreage with luminaries of the fairer sex.
Today, on Saturday Song Selection, we salute a name that seems from the far distant past - from a simpler and forgotten time when one had to arise from the couch to actually physically switch the television’s channel changer to choose between the vast, limitless, immeasurable 10 stations at our disposal (studies now prove that this was one of the primary factors behind the elevated birth rate of this period - the renowned “baby boom“- procreation peaked as children were needed to serve as living, organic remote controls.) It was a time when bell bottoms were worn, and without hipster, Williamsburg-implied irony; a time when Sarah Palin was a slip of a lass just beginning to sneak cigarettes, sips of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Wine and innocent busses beneath the bleachers, and not a time when she was setting out to destroy the greatest republic the world has ever known. And it was a time when Linda Ronstadt was one of the most successful singers, leading lights and biggest stars in the music industry (yes, even a time when there was a thriving music industry.) Yet, when do you last recall hearing Linda Ronstadt’s name spoken of, seeing it in print or even stumbling accidentally upon it in some vaguely related internet search that, rather, somehow inevitably led to a semi-clad Kardashian, a cute cat clip or the most recently released photo of the most private of parts of whomever happens to be the current congressman caught in carnal contortions. I, myself, must guiltily admit that my Linda Ronstadt collection did not make the transition to compact disc. When I yearn for a little “Prisoner in Disguise,” or “When Will I Be Loved,“ or the classic “Different Drum.“ I’m still moistening up the discwasher pad, dusting off the vinyl and enjoying those timeless sounds at the warmth of 33 and 1/3 rpms.
Linda Ronstadt, Linda Ronstadt, where for art thou Linda Ronstadt? You owned my heart in my teen years, can I not still enjoy your talent as I rapidly approach an age when I think of the gang on the “McLaughlin Group” as a bunch of swell kids; when I pause the Cialis promos in order to jot down essential and germane particulars (what’s that again about 4 hours?) and when I wish I had a staircase just so I could be conveyed from floor to floor propelled by a mechanized chair?
Where is Linda Ronstadt? What is Linda Ronstadt up to? Why isn’t she touring? How many times can I annoy you with lists of queries and frequent repetitions of Ronstadt’s name? Many from her same era are still very actively involved in live performing. Rod Stewart and Stevie Nicks are ubiquitous. Some assemblage of older gentlemen calling themselves the Doobie Brothers are serenading crowds. As are Daryl Hall and the other guy, Crosby and Nash, a pair of Paul’s (Simon and McCartney), even the Monkees have reunited for concerts - and Linda had a big hit with a Mike Nesmith composition. It’s in the cards. It’s meant to be. The stars are aligned. Ronstadt should return.
For those of you whose faces contort, fraught with perplexity and confusion, upon the mere mention of the year 1975; and whose minds conjure up thoughts of the Pleistocene epoch, the invention of moveable type or the halcyon days of the Norse Gods of Mount Olympus - a little factual, pertinent information about Ms. Ronstadt.
Linda Ronstadt is the recipient of 10 Grammy Awards, 2 Academy of Country Music awards, an Emmy Award, an ALMA Award (yes, I am as unfamiliar with that one as you are), numerous gold, platinum and multi-platinum albums; in addition to Tony Award and Golden Globe nominations. She has charted 38 Billboard Hot 100 singles, 21 of which have reached the top 40, 10 of which have reached the top 10, 3 peaking at No. 2, and a No. 1 hit with the song that I’m sharing with you today, "You're No Good.“ Ronstadt was also the first female "arena class" rock star, setting records as one of the top-grossing concert artists culminated in being voted the Top Female Pop Singer of the 1970s. Additionally, her exceptionally pleasing visage graced the cover of “Rolling Stone” six times, with appearances on "Newsweek" and "Time" as well.
One last note - with all that being said, not only is Linda Ronstadt not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but she’s never even been nominated for induction. For shame, you old corporate hippies!
Saturday, June 11th Birthdays -
1937 Johnny Brown - What have we established previously? Laugh-In is sacrosanct; he was on Laugh-In - although he’s probably best remembered for playing Bookman on “Good Times.”
1936 Chad Everett - Longtime star of the TV series “Medical Center,” but really, I just wanted to show the hair. He also gets some minor props for his role in “Airplane II.”
1935 Gene Wilder - What’s to say - “Bonnie and Clyde,“ “The Producers,“ “Willy Wonka…,“ “Young Frankenstein,“ “Silver Streak,” shall I go on? An all-time great, and by all accounts a good guy and devoted husband to the wonderful Gilda Radner.
1933 Jud Strunk - Laugh-In representative number 2, prominently featured in the upcoming PBS pledge break documentary, “Laugh-In: The Lean Years.”
1930 Representative Charles B. Rangel - Who made news just today by coming to the defense of Anthony Weiner, and if Charles Manson or Kim Jong Il are unavailable, he’s just the guy you want watching your back.
1910 Jacques Yves Cousteau - ¿Quién es más macho, Jacques Cousteau o Ricardo Montalban? Jacques Cousteau es más macho,
1889 Wesley Ruggles - He was an actor/producer/director with the Keystone Kops and I just think that’s kind of cool, plus I would imagine it’s the only Keystone Kops reference you’re likely to read for years.
Finally, Freema Agyeman - I haven’t a clue if it’s her birthday or not - I’m currently enjoying Law & Order: UK, she’s in it and I’m smitten. And that’s good enough for me. Sorry Linda.
As I fear this posting has deteriorated into “Nycityman, his Hormones and You,“ let's just let Linda take it away with, “You’re No Good.”
Monday, June 6, 2011
“She broke the record
Way under water
I thought that she was doin' fine
I wasn't nervous
Not until the service
That they held For Clementine”
One never knows from where inspiration will arise. This long-awaited return of “a Dose of Darin,” was precipitated by a bit of fortunate happenstance on a recent, less than enjoyable, cross country plane ride. Although, determination of whether the happenstance was indeed “fortunate” or not will be rightfully ascertained in the mind of the reader.
Now, nothing of any great severity or consequence occurred, it was more a series of minor annoyances. The usual onerous volume of New York City traffic made our on-time airport arrival a somewhat precarious proposition. The security machines mechanically malfunctioned lengthening the already torturous belt and shoe removal ecdysiast performance. Once aboard our food, blanket and pillow-free airborne conveyance we all enjoyed the congenial company of the two travelers, previously unknown to each other, who deliriously discovered that they shared this flight in order to attend the same betrothal. So fascinated were they by this unforeseen fortune that it was necessary to discuss this, not uncommon coincidence, loudly and vociferously - sans pause, breath or “inside voice” - with each other and with any other ill-fated, slumber-impaired, imprisoned passenger for the next 6 hours – throughout the airplane one could hear the sounds of noise reduction headphones being thrown continuously and angrily to the floor, having failed to perform under such arduous circumstances. Then, there was the “daisies in May, cliché coming true” (“South Pacific” lyric reference – sorry) of actually having a child, legs flailing, blissfully turning my seatback into a perpetual motion machine akin to the world’s least pleasurable amusement park ride. Both child and parent remained absolutely unmoved by the thoroughly disagreeable sight of the author’s sizeable skull rapidly and repeatedly whipping in their direction, scowl firmly in place. Granted, neither dangerous nor life-threatening conditions existed - it wasn’t William Shatner with whom I conducted the traditional, close quarters seatmate arm-rest grappling - meaning that the airplane wing was gremlin-free; and we didn’t crash finding ourselves on a polar bear and smoke monster inhabited island with a volleyball serving as our closest companion - simply, it just wasn’t exactly an exhilarating excursion. Then, low and behold, through the good graces and serendipity of the Ipod shuffle, came Bobby Darin (finally!) and “Clementine!” While we can probably all agree that it may not be the most delicately worded or politically correct song - insensitivity to weight-challenged citizenry aside - it swings and reverberates with joy and jubilation, and is yet another of the seemingly countless classic performances by Darin. Those 3 minutes and 15 seconds utterly enhanced the mood, feel and character of the journey, setting a tone for the extremely enjoyable 4 days to come
Of course, having one’s humor heightened by the sudden sonics of a Darin recording is probably not a particularly unusual situation among a certain percentage of the population, of which nycityman (and many readers) belong. There’s just almost always something special about listening to Bobby Darin - the sincerity in the ballads, the exuberance in the up-tempo numbers. the dynamic arrangements - singular, distinctive and exceptional, his is the work of a unique artist. Whether it’s the warmth, authenticity and earnestness of “Simple Song of Freedom” and “If I Were A Carpenter” or the finger-snapping bravado and energy of “Bill Bailey” and “Clementine,” it’s not just chance that Bobby is still being listened to, appreciated, talked about and written about. 38 years after his passing.
I hope to return to penning and posting further tales and tunes of Bobby‘s with more reliable regularity sometime soon. The intention is that as long as there is a “…and several butcher’s aprons” there will always be “a Dose of Darin.” Alas, unless I hit Powerball or acquire some of that soon to be available Gabor money (“too soon?” or perhaps “not yet”) or unless one of our noble statesman erroneously and haphazardly twitters a tasteful artist rendering of his jockey-clad “tweet,” to me, thereby assuring me an appearance on the Rachel Maddow Show and securing me a substantial sum in a settlement of a civil suit, I’m not anticipating any rapid influx of wealth in the immediate future, and thusly real employment will rule the day and blog devotion-time will be beset with limits. A further factor that comes into play is the amount of research required for many of the “Doses.” Darin fans are exceedingly knowledgeable and I have no intention of unintentionally erring - and for any possible new Bobby Darin followers, I would never want to lead them factually astray. I treasure the opportunity to present Darin to those who lack familiarity with him as almost an obligation - a responsibility to do my minor best to keep Bobby’s memory alive. Learning the biographical facts of his life – the enduring illness, the secret of his parentage - make his many accomplishments even that much more impressive.
More to come.
Monday, June 6th Birthdays – This posting also marks the triumphant return of celebrity salutations - everyone scream, “yay,” Kermit the Frog-like. I know I am.
1959 Colin Quinn - he never saw a teleprompter that didn‘t baffle him. Former SNL Weekend Update anchor, who I recently saw standing online at the Gristedes on my corner, and that’s really the only reason he’s included.
1955 Dana Carvey - like Quinn, another Saturday Night Live alum, whose message on the occasion of his birthday wrote itself (everyone do it with me) - Well, isn’t that special?
1949 Robert Englund - so many songs come to mind. I’ll list a few, you submit the joke - “I’ll See You in My Dreams,” “Freddie’s Dead,” “Dream Lover,” “Mr. Sandman,” and so on and so forth.
1946 Chelsea Brown - just because you never heard of her doesn’t mean she’s not worthy. She was on Laugh-In and Laugh-In is sacrosanct to me. She is also, by far, the most attractive of today’s birthday greeting recipients.
(Chelsea is standing upper left, next to Goldie Hawn)
1945 David Dukes – not David Duke the former KKK Grand Wizard and 1992 Republican presidential candidate (is there a difference?) but rather the fine film, stage and television actor, who for a short period of time, rented from and resided in, an apartment above my Grandmother’s while appearing on Broadway (Duke was on the Great White Way, that is, not my Grandma.)
1936 Levi Stubbs - one of the greatest voices in popular music, the legendary lead singer of the great Four Tops, he also provided the voice of Audrey II in the movie musical, “Little Shop of Horrors,” Feed Me!
1755 Nathan Hale - Continental Army soldier, captured and hanged by the British while in the midst of an intelligence gathering mission - famous for the quote, “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country - you betcha'." Well that’s Palin’s telling of it, anyway, and she’s sticking to it.
From the 1960 album, “This is Darin,“ written by Woody Harris and arranged by Richard Wess - “Clementine.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
“Does anyone know if stupid is back from Europe yet? Or did he go to Germany and try to resurrect the Nazis for his cause? He's probably apologizing TO the Nazis for what America has done. Obama, you're a pile of crap.”
“Jihadist Terrorist Obama votes at the UN to take Israel's land and create and Islamic state”
“I was just watching the meeting with Natanyahu and Obama if you look at Obama he looks HIGH. See past clips and speeches of Obama, drunk, meds, or ?????? just a observation.”
“We must take arms against those heathens just as our brethren have. Down With Osama! Down with his twin brother Obama!”
“Obama is an anti-semetic MUSLIM that wants to ISLAMIFY our COUNTRY!”
”just sad we have to let everyone vote. some shouldn't.”
“I am a big fan of Sarah Palin! anyone who does not love this woman and what she stands for! is simply a GOD hater!”
”trump was just a mole for obama. obama is the anti Christ.”
“Obama’s Czars have free reign now to go about their business of Marxist rule, openly in defiant of the U.S. Constitution, their enemy.”
“The real reason that Obama wants amnisty for illegals is because he is one! And he feels that if ALL illegals are given amnisty, they will vote for him because they all know that he is ‘One of Them.’ Who would have ever believed that a citizen from a country like Kenya could take over a country like the United States of America without ever firing a single shot.’
“I realize liberals don't respect their pro-baby killing women but they crossed the line with you.”
“I think it is pretty clear about the Obama Presidency that it has a conscious policy goal to create an environment where it will be practically possible for the future internal security agencies of the US Federal Government to exterminate the American Jewish Community in concentration camps in the US with Zyklon B.”
"Watch the movie: "THOR". You will see Obama as the EVIL Brother in the movie, who takes over The THRONE of The PEACEFUL NATION. Americans trusted to let OBAMA, of Muslim heritage take the throne of AMERICA to rule over us - WHAT CAN WE DO NOW..... WE AMERICANS can NEVER TRUST MUSLIMS to be LEADERS/POSITION in AMERICA.”
“To all of those, that wanted to have a Minority in the White House, the day you made the decision to vote to put a communist muslim traitor as the leader of this formerly great nation, is the day we ceased being family, friends or acquaintances. Some things are forgivable, others are not.”
“Could Obama be Osama's son? Well, they must be related somehow. As one of your biggest fans, Sarah, wish you can obtain all the facts.”
“What a lot of people dont realize is that this idea first came from hitler and no health care plan that fine's you or puts u into prision for not having health care or cannot afford health care is such a great thing”
“Can someone translate this to Arabic so Obama can read it?”
“go build your Barack Hussein Obama Cultural Center in Kenya, We Americans have a Republic to Restore. Screw Diversity and multi-culturism, we assimilated here.”
“We had our first colored prez. Now u need to become the first women prez.”
My fellow Americans, there you have it – the voices of real America, or as Palin puts it – “these wonderful little pockets of what I call the real America, being here with all of you hard working very patriotic, um, very, um, pro-America areas of this great nation.”
Gay baiting, Muslim hating
Flag saluting, earth polluting
Animal killing, deep-sea drilling
Tax cheating, wife beating
Gun toting, Bible misquoting
Fast-food glomming, clinic bombing –
Such are Sarah Palin’s, “real Americans.”
From whence could these contributors have possibly gotten such outlandish, dangerous, negative, frightening, bigoted and patently Un-American ideas? Clearly these hateful diatribes would never have been inspired by such a responsible, intelligent, thoughtful and mature leader of people as Sarah Palin. For example, she would never out and out outrageously falsify a claim that Obama’s health care plan was designed to kill your grandmother - "The America I know and love is not one in which my parents or my baby with Down Syndrome will have to stand in front of Obama's 'death panel' so his bureaucrats can decide, based on a subjective judgment of their 'level of productivity in society,' whether they are worthy of health care. Such a system is downright evil”
She certainly would never dare imply something as incendiary as the leader of our great nation being a terrorist himself – “…someone who sees America, it seems, as being so imperfect that he's palling around with terrorists who would target their own country."
Or far be it of the former sportscaster and beauty queen to insinuate that the Obama is so illegitimate that he’s not even a native of our own blessed nation – “There’s something there that the president doesn’t want people to see on that birth certificate. Then he seems to go to great lengths to make sure it isn’t shown.”
And when Michelle Obama decided to tackle the very real and growing national health problem of childhood obesity - encouraging children to be more physically active and to develop better nutritional habits - no thinking, rational human being would actually take a “pro-Childhood Obesity” stance – “instead of a government thinking that they need to take over and make decisions for us according to some politician or politician's wife priorities, just leave us alone, get off our back, and allow us as individuals to exercise our own God-given rights to make our own decisions and then our country gets back on the right track.”
Of course Palin spewed all of this nonsense, primarily and precisely, because if someone, anyone, with the surname of Obama posits any proposition, then it is automatically a communist plot positioned to destroy the very foundation of America as we know it. Such is the mind of a charlatan, a huckster, or may I even intimate a paranoid schizophrenic? To quote the immortal Dean Wormer, “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life.” Well, do you recall when Palin characterized the President’s speaking to school children about the importance of education as his way of indoctrinating them to socialism? It appears “fat, drunk and stupid” is quite accurately the manner in which she would prefer our country’s children cultivated. Why - because such qualities make citizens simpler to manipulate and control.
Naturally, unstable people can be found in every color of the political spectrum. No doubt perusal of an Obama or Romney or even Aaron Burr website would result in finding similarly extreme statements… perhaps. I can, however, attest to the fact that not a single one of the comments above were rebuked by either Sarah Palin or by any of the other Facebook page participants. Quite the contrary, most of these postings had “likes” and follow-up comments of affirmation. While Palin cannot be held responsible for the writings of her followers, she should be held responsible for not condemning such violent, virulent, dangerous, intolerant hate-speech. On the other hand, could she ever really honestly condemn such postings when, as was previously proven, prevarication and petulant provocation has historically been her modus operandi?
Sarah Palin rarely discusses issues; she knows little of such things. Instead she transacts in fear, hatred, paranoia and personality, propelled by her long-standing campaign of lies. If you disagree with her it’s never just a policy difference, it’s not because you both want the best for our nation but just have disparate political philosophies. Rather, it’s because you’re not “one of us.” Like “Hussein” Obama, you are somehow foreign, un-American, un-patriotic, a socialist, a Muslim, a terrorist and you mean to do harm to this great white, Christian country of ours. Democrats aren’t a rival political party, they are the enemy. To be a true Palin devotee, it is preferred that you distrust Muslims, homosexuals, liberals, foreigners and immigrants. What she desires is that you resent and fear your fellow Americans. She fans the flames of righteous, right-wing rage and retribution. And not only will she stir you up, she’ll provide you with a map and a list of names of lefty evil-doers. The only thing Sarah doesn’t do is load the gun, point it and shoot it for you. "Don't Retreat, Instead - RELOAD!'"
Over 3 million people are “likes” on her Facebook page (are you afraid yet?) over 3 million people thinking this violent and divisive way in your very own homeland. And what’s the spoonful of sugar that makes this toxic medicine go down? How does she make this daily does of vitriol and vileness palatable to decent people? She sweetens it all with flag and God and family, including the shameless exploitation of her children as political props. Sarah Palin’s Facebook followers – 3 million strong and 3 million wrong.
Sarah Palin is much more than easy comedy fodder for Bill Maher. She’s poison in red “f-me” pumps and skin-tight leather jackets. She and Michele Bachmann may be the Janet and Chrissy of the geriatric, pasty-faced, GOP, old boy’s club “Three’s Company” fantasy, but this pair of TV ribald roommates aren’t packing nighties, they favor AK-47s. And if this blog can play the role of Mr. Furley and somehow, minutely help quash some of this testosterone-driven madness from the right, then my patriotic duty has been done.
As the initial intent of this posting was to allow simple Sarah and her supporters to speak for themselves - Ms. Palin concludes in her usual peaceful, passive and conciliatory manner. –
“Your leaders will be in the enemy’s crosshairs. You never win playing defense, get on offense! The crossfire is intense, so penetrate enemy territory. Use your weapons. Shoot with accuracy; aim high and remember it takes blood, sweat and tears to win. No matter how tough it gets, never retreat, instead reload!” – Sarah Palin in “America by Heart”
Now, Bobby Darin with a true “Simple Song of Freedom.”