"And you know how it feels 

To get too high 

Too far

Too soon...."

Well, it's February 29th and I wanted to post something for the sake of posterity and also because I don't think I've ever posted on Leap Day before.

I was watching the Father Ted episode "Hell" the other day, that one where they're stuck in a camper van with the priest who's basically a frustrated theater queen (played by Graham Norton), and was reminded of this song and how much I love it. Ergo....

How did I not remember that Karl Wallinger was in The Waterboys (pre-World Party) because OMG I worship that dude! He's basically a god as far as I'm concerned. 

Anyway. Enjoy your Leap Day.

Please and Thank you.

O.N.J. - R.I.P.

Of course, Xanadu is my favorite. How could it not be? ONJ and Gene Kelly on roller skates, the music of ELO, that cheesy-ass Don Bluth animated sequence, Sonny skating into the brick wall to join Kira in the mural, "got to believe we are magic," the insane closing musical number? Love. It.

Grease is the word, but Xanadu is da bomb.

 

HOWEVER.....there happens to be an overlooked ONJ classic called Two of a Kind. There was a huge publicity campaign for this movie ("Olivia and Travolta--together again!"), and it was savaged by critics and ignored by moviegoers in 1983. It's flawed but fun, and I kinda love it. 

And the theme song is seriously one of the greatest things ONJ ever recorded. In fact, if not for the Xanadu soundtrack, I'd argue that this was her best song ever. And holy shit, how did I live 49 years without knowing this music video existed? It's amazeballs. ONJ and Travolta are both beautiful people, but I swear neither of them have ever looked better than they do right here. Olivia can really rock an '80s mullet. And I don't care if that's a hairpiece on Travolta, it's working for him. HOT.

Rest in peace, Livs. Your fabulosity will live forever.

  

  

 ADVENTURES IN SCAM BAITING PART VII: 
PRICK SPRINGFIELD 

I had so much trouble posting the screenshots from this one. They were really disorganized in my phone, and I think I inadvertently deleted a few of them, while a few others seem to be out of order. I blame my post-COVID brain fog. Whatever. 

This wannabe scammer kept stalking me on Instagram using various accounts, all of them purporting to be the "private" account of Rick Springfield. I got several notifications that accounts with names like therealrickspringfield and rickspringfield456 were now following me, and I'd block and report them every time, but then a day later another new fake Rick Springfield account would pop up and follow me. I mean what the hell, and why me? Creepy fucker.   

Below: notice how he ignores my comment about Nigerian scumbag scammers. Heh.

Below: Okay, this is where I think I must have deleted a screenshot or two, because he's suddenly talking about his "identification card." I asked for proof that he was Rick Springfield, and he sent a shot of a (fake) driver's license, but then he'd quickly delete it from the chat a few seconds later before I had time to scrutinize it. 

But below you can see I was eventually able to take a screenshot before he deleted it again. I blacked out the info, because while I'm sure this is not Rick Springfield's ID, the Los Angeles address on the card no doubt belongs to someone, and I wanted to protect the privacy of whoever it is. I also noticed that the ID lists Rick Springfield as 5'8" tall, weighing in at 120 pounds. Riiiiiiiiight. 

Below: fake Rick Springfield thinks I'm foxy. Funny coincidence, because....

....it's actually a photo of Rick Springfield's wife! 

I think I put my finger on why these scammers irk me so much; they're a special blend 

of stupid and evil, kind of like Donald Trump and his terrible children. 

Above: while I think Rick Springfield looks amazing for being 70+ years old, I don't believe that hair is real. No septuagenarian has hair that lush. It's gotta be a hairpiece--at least in the front--hence my wig comment. Still, as hairpieces go, it's pretty convincing. 

Wouldn't you agree?

Below: after I decline to show him an ID card, the guy vamooses, expressing doubts about my realness. Well, BYE BITCH! Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya! Then I blocked and deleted, natch.

While we're on the subject, I'm posting my favorite Rick Springfield song. The video is a complete mess, but Rick looks smokin' hot and there's no denying his fabulosity here. The song is from the 1984 flick "Hard To Hold," which is a really stinky movie and it should come as no surprise to anyone that I own it on DVD. Can't help it, I love me some '80s cheese. In Rick's memoir Late, Late at Night he wrote about how he knew "Hard To Hold" was a piece of shit and was so disgusted by the script that he threw it across the room after he read it, but then his agent said, "Dude, they want to pay you a million dollars," and then he reconsidered his opinion right quick. By the way, I definitely recommend his book, it's one of the funniest and most honest memoirs I've read. 

KEITH OLSEN 

1945 - 2020

Last May I got the chance to hang out with Keith Olsen at his home in Genoa (Nevada, not Italy). My friend Pat was close with Keith and his wife, and I tagged along when she and her boyfriend Frank stopped by to see them one beautiful sunny afternoon. 

I was so fortunate to have the opportunity to meet Keith. I got to see his home recording studio that featured a wall of artists he's worked with: Rick Springfield (Keith produced "Jessie's Girl"), Fleetwood Mac, Journey, Pat Benatar, Foreigner, Heart, Ozzy Osbourne, Whitesnake, The Grateful Dead, and countless others. Anytime you tune into one of the classic rock stations on Sirius, you're almost guaranteed to hear something Keith produced.

The four of us hung out in his living room, drank some iced tea and listened to Keith reminisce. I was full of questions, of course, and Keith had some really amazing stories about his years in the music business. 

Just before we headed back to Tahoe, Keith called us all outside so we could help him feed the deer that had shown up at his property for their daily snacks. All these deer, just hanging out in his yard. He handed us some buckets of whatever he fed them (deer chow?) and about a dozen of these little cuties gathered around us, waiting patiently for their treats. 

It was a magical afternoon. 

Keith passed away at his home last month at the age of 74. Cardiac arrest. He is survived by his wife Janice, three children, and two grandchildren. You can read his NYT obit here.

Rest in peace, dude. You are a fucking legend.

WOW. 

I MEAN....

WOW.

Lord help me, I watched all 11 minutes and three seconds of this. I have no idea what in the holy hell it is or why it exists, but I think I'm obsessed with it now. 

Some questions:

Why is Carol Burnett in this? And was she only there for the dorky intro and outro?

If so, bravo, 1982 TV execs! That was the most random, goofy ass shit I've ever seen. 

Why did Cheryl Ladd have her own prime time TV special? I thought she was only famous for being a replacement on Charlie's Angels. Was someone trying to make her "happen"?

This weird shot makes it look like she's menacing a tiny Rick Springfield!

Speaking of Rick, did he raid Simon Le Bon's wardrobe? 

Yes, it appears that he did. And I like it.

What the hell is with the extra verse in "I've Done Everything For You," (at the 7:55 to 8:15 mark)? I've never heard that before. And yes, I'm well familiar with the works of Rick Springfield. You got a problem with that? 

Didn't think so, bitches!

Now that World War III is about to happen, can this insane TV special just be broadcast on every channel and repeated on an endless loop forever and ever and ever? I think that would be the best thing for all of us. 

Namaste.

ADVENTURES IN SCAM BAITING PART V:

THE VERY MODEL OF A MODERN MAJOR GENERAL

You know, 98% of the wannabe scammers I encounter make me long for mr.lorenzodaniel (the Rowsdower guy). At least that one was kinda sharp and had a few brain cells to rub together. Sigh. Don't know what ya got til it's gone. I think Bon Jovi said that. (Oops, my bad. It was this dude.) Ah well, I suppose that happens when you don't pick and choose your scammers. I believe in letting them come to me, because it's more fun that way. And because I'm just an old-fashioned girl. 

This is what I got to work with, the latest scammer who contacted me about a month ago. And since he checked all the predictable boxes, he pretended to be:

1. In the military. 
2. Stationed overseas. 
3. 'Murican, of course.

He's the very model of a modern major general! Funny, I wouldn't have figured this guy for a Gilbert & Sullivan fan. Incidentally, I thought I was quoting a song from H.M.S. Pinafore, which I actually saw live in Indianapolis about 25 years ago (it was good!) but turns out the Modern Major General song is from Pirates of Penzance, which I haven't seen--although fun fact!--I have actually been to Penzance, which should count for something but whatever. Both are Gilbert & Sullivan, both are comic operas, both have to do with seafaring type stuff. So my confusion is understandable I think, and should be forgiven.

Yemen. Yeah, right. I know shit's been going down in Yemen for a while but I also know that real military dudes aren't allowed to chat casually about where they're stationed and what they're doing there. In fact, a lot of times their loved ones don't even have the details. I was talking to my youngest cousin when I was in Tulsa back in May. She's married to a marine who was at the time deployed "somewhere" near the Persian Gulf (he's back now, thankfully). She didn't know exactly where he was and wasn't allowed to know. So yeah, I already knew this dude is full of shit, and now I get an idea of the degree to which he is full of shit. More on fecal matter in a minute.

Carry on.

Heh. Well, you know how I like to throw a little reality in there. John and I actually were having issues with a giant bush in the front garden that was all overgrown and blocking a window. So we hired a lawn crew, and they'd just shown up that minute to take care of it. Our giant bush. Heheheheheh.

Below: I'd just seen Airplane! on streaming a few nights earlier. I love that movie. 

via GIPHY

You would never ever EVER hear a line like that played for laughs in a movie nowadays. That makes it even funnier.

Below: I quoted more Gilbert & Sullivan at him and he didn't catch on, so I guess he's not actually a fan of the theater. Oh well, nobody's perfect.

Below: he said DUTY! I always love it when Howard Stern cracks up over that word. Immature, but funny. I remember one time he played a clip of Diane Sawyer pontificating on her "duties as a journalist," and Stern deadpanned, "Oh my God I don't believe it. She's talking about her doodies?" (Yeah I like Howard Stern. He makes me laugh. Sorry not sorry, as the kids say.)

Above: one of the hazards of screenshots. I think I must've deleted one of them, but it wasn't anything exciting. He was saying something about how he liked "cabege stew" (HURRRRLLLLLL!) and asking if I'd make it one day for him (!) and I asked him if he'd been to Texas and he said no.

Onward....

Above: yeah, blah blah blah whatever. Although not gonna lie, Kenny Rogers really is THE MAN.

via GIPHY

And 1970s Kenny is DA BOMB!

Above: He's familiar with countries in Africa. Big fuckin' surprise there. (But not familiar with the Toto song. Philistine!) 

Above: more blah blah blah, homoerotic banter that he doesn't catch, blah blah blah. This guy is so boring.

Above: Isn't it weird how everyone seems to know "Escape (The Pina Colada Song)"? Well, not this guy obviously, but everyone else, no matter when or where they were born. It's like seeped into the public consciousness. 

Below: He hung in there with me for quite a while (and over the span of a few days, if I remember correctly) before asking for my info so we could do Hangout. They all want to do Hangout. It's so tiresome.

Also, "I am number 6" is from the awesome whacked out 1960's British show The Prisoner. If you haven't ever seen it, be sure to remedy that ASAP. Back in 2017 when we were in the UK for my sister-in-law's wedding, John took me to Portmeirion, this amazing little Welsh village where The Prisoner was filmed. No one lives there, and it's perfectly preserved and looks exactly like it does on the TV show. Seriously, like something out of Alice in Wonderland with a human sized chessboard and everything. And it is just an astoundingly beautiful area of the country. I love Wales. 

ALSO also, 853-5937 happens to be the name of a Squeeze song I hadn't thought about for decades, and I forgot how much I love it. And the lyrics mention my name, (Angela, FYI) which is a bonus! It's from their later period and the album it came from was pretty Crowded House-y, which is always a good thing.   

And that's where I ended it, with my little non sequitur re: horticulture club. The guy was taking too long to respond and I was on a gardening forum reading about horsemint. I decided to copy and paste someone's reply to someone else's question about weed control. I figured inserting it at the end there made about as much sense as the rest of my conversation with georgemorgan260, so why not. Plus I was thoroughly bored with him by then.

So I blocked him and reported his account for spam. 

Smell ya later, lamesauce!

   

RESCUED FROM OBSCURITY
"Don't let it get me, don't let it get me, don't let it get me...."

Perhaps this is a little-known symptom of memory loss in aging Gen Xers: you start mixing up your Martha Coolidge movies. Then before too long, you're confusing Amy Heckerling movies. And by the time you get to where you're mistaking Say Anything for Singles, you're well on your way to an early Alzheimer's diagnosis. But I'm probably over-thinking this.

At any rate, I woke up with this song in my head the other morning and now I'm kind of obsessed with it. For some reason, I was convinced that it was featured in a scene from the 1984 Martha Coolidge flick Joy of Sex, where a horny teenage boy is seen pedaling a 10-speed bike down the street to his girlfriend's house, psyching himself up to get laid for the first time. The thing is, I don't know why I thought the song was from Joy of Sex, a movie I only had vague recollections of from clandestine late night HBO viewings as a preteen. Plus, Joy of Sex was pretty lame, so it's not a film that I would've sought out all that much back in the day. It's definitely no Valley Girl, which is the movie that Martha Coolidge is (rightfully) remembered for, because Valley Girl kicks ass. Better story, better actors, and a KILLER soundtrack. I've also seen Valley Girl like, WAY more times than I ever saw Joy of Sex, for all the reasons mentioned above. And, it starred Nicolas Cage back when he was still badass. Yes children, long, long ago in another time, another place, another dimension known as the early '80s, Nic Cage was really fucking cool. 

via GIPHY

Be still my heart.

I love this movie. Love it. One of my favorite scenes is the one where Julie, the titular "valley girl," flips out at her hippie mom for refusing to yell at her after she stays out all night. "Like, why can't you guys just punish me like other parents do?" "Bad karma, dear." I love that line. The hippie mom was played by Colleen Camp, by the way. I only recently found out that she was the same actress who played the sexy French maid in Clue. Random bit of trivia there.

But back to the rather joyless Joy of Sex movie and the song I was so desperate to find. I had no idea what the song title was, so I couldn't Google it. I could only remember the familiar refrain: "Don't let it get me, don't let it get me," along with the image of that preppy kid riding his bike down the street. Like I said, I was somehow convinced that it was from JoS. Why? I have no idea. But I did manage to find the full movie on YouTube, and decided to watch it the other day while I got some unpacking done. I found out a few things:

• Colleen Camp (hippie mom/French maid) was also in JoS but she was truly awful in it, horribly miscast in a "comic relief" role as a narcotics officer going undercover trying to sniff out all the stoners at the high school. It was a really dumb subplot that, like most of the movie, fell totally flat.
• Christopher Lloyd played the main character's surly gym coach father, and he was actually pretty funny in it. One of the film's few bright spots.
• There was this one part in the movie that my brain had somehow retained after all these years, although I was beginning to think I'd imagined it. It was a scene at a drive-in with a carload of teenage boys sticking their asses in the air and lighting their farts on fire while screaming "Blue flame!" Their combustible flatulence finally succeeds in blowing out the car windows, causing mass pandemonium among the teenage couples making out in the surrounding vehicles. Okay I'll admit it, that made me laugh. I'm not made of stone, people.     

And the song. The song! It was nowhere to be found in Joy of Sex. Frustrated, I Googled "songs featured in Valley Girl," but there was nothing titled "Don't Let it Get Me." There was, however, a Sparks song called "Eaten By the Monster of Love." I found a recording on YouTube, and yep! That's it. And it WAS in the bike riding scene from Valley Girl, after all. Why did I think it was from Joy of Sex? Early onset Alzheimer's? I'll be 46 next week. Still a bit young for that, but who knows? 

No matter. Here is the full version of the song, and it's all kinds of awesome. 

The only reason I knew the name Sparks is because of "Cool Places," that song they recorded with Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Go's, which also happens to be the jam. (Jane Wiedlin can do no wrong in my book.) Bonus! Here it is:

RESCUED FROM OBSCURITY:

"LIGHTS OUT! UH HUH!"

It's too bad this song doesn't get more love. I remember it being a big hit on the radio and MTV, although according to Billboard it only peaked at #24 on the Hot 100. The problem may have been that "Dancing in the dark," (the song's refrain) happened to be the title of another song that was also in heavy rotation during the summer of '84. You know the one. I will say that Peter Wolf's dancing is--ahem--pretty much on par with Bruce's (i.e. not very good), but Peter gets points for at least throwing in a few spins.  

"Lights Out" has been on my mind a lot since John hooked up the Amazon Echo to our new living room lamp. See, now instead of reaching over to pull the chain, I have to say "Alexa, lights out" (or on) and the device complies. John loves it because it's all space age and he's a techie. I'm more of a tactile type, so I've had some trouble remembering to keep my hands off the chain in order for the lamp to stay in sync with the commands. But my learning curve has had the added bonus of reminding me of this song, because every time I talk to the lamp, I hear "Lights out! Uh huh! Blast, blast, blast!" playing in my head. Weirdly enough, when I try to get Alexa to play "Lights Out," she pleads ignorance, telling me she can't find it. Thankfully, YouTube usually comes through in situations like these.

   

Of course, Peter Wolf is better known as the lead singer of the J. Geils Band. I like their work, but it's a bummer that most people only seem to remember them for "Centerfold." Personally, I much prefer "Freeze Frame." It's way more fun, and I adore that wacky ass video, a shining example of early MTV at its finest. But most people only know "Centerfold." Tragic. 

During the past week that I've been listening to "Lights Out," I recalled a few odd facts about Peter Wolf that I had to Google to make sure I was remembering correctly. The first is that he was roommates with filmmaker David Lynch in college. David didn't care much for Peter, because he found him too weird. Seriously! I mean, what a freaky badge of honor to be too weird for David Lynch. 

  

Another awesome Peter Wolf factoid is that he was once married to Faye Dunaway. Yes, Peter Wolf and Mommie Dearest were married! 

Don't make her angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry.

Actually, they looked surprisingly good together, like your typical kooky bohemian '70s celebrity couple. 

I'm kinda digging the facial hair.

But they were only married from 1974 to 1979, which means they'd split up by the time Faye starred in Mommie Dearest. However, that does mean they were together when Faye made the epic campfest The Eyes of Laura Mars in 1978. If you've never seen it, do yourself a favor, 'cause it's a real hoot. You got a bunch of generic disco-era fashion models getting all nekkid and murdered, you have Tommy Lee Jones sporting David Cassidy hair, Faye runs through a warehouse shrieking "Donaaaaaaaald!" about 75 times, and Raul Julia hams it up with lines like "Ah, but YOU! Instant star in the world of chic!"

No decade did camp quite like the '70s.

But this is about Peter, not his ex. And Peter's pretty awesome. This is another forgotten gem, the title track from his 1987 album, Come As You Are. The video is similar to Janet Jackson's "When I Think of You," made to look like one long continuous shot, peppered with a few disguised edits to maintain the flow. Also, Peter appears to be hopping through the set of The Truman Show, a film that wouldn't be released for another 11 years. He was ahead of his time, that Peter Wolf.