BRB...

Ready to go? I am. That is, for the next couple of weeks, I'll be taking a short vacation from this blog as well as from my other one, Nocturne In G Major. But don't get all weepy on me. I'll be back. In the meantime, you can catch up on all your other reading. Like that dog-eared old copy of Anna Karanina you never finished. (Spoiler alert: It ends tragically.) Or you could always reorganize your closet. Hell, you could even go on your own vacation, somewhere far from the madding crowd, which, every now and then, is a place that we all need to be. Whatever you end up doing in the interim, have fun. Just don't forget me!

GRETA GARBO AS "ANNA KARANINA"

See you on the other side. Skol! xoxoxxoxoxxoxoxo

FIVE BEST GIRL BANDS OF ALL TIME

The Bangles

I can't count the times some guy has said to me, whilst listening to The Bangles, something along the lines of, "They can't be playing their own instruments." Uh...why? 'Cause they're girls? Stupid assumptions aside, rest assured that Susanna Hoffs, Vicki Peterson, her sister, Debbi, and Michael Steele were providing the licks on guitars, drums, and bass on all of those great 1980s tunes like "Going Down To Liverpool" and "Manic Monday." Starting out as "The Bangs", the original line-up of Hoffs, the Petersons, and Annette Zilinskas on bass released one single, "The Real World", before legal issues forced them to change their name to "The Bangles", at which point Zilinskas left the band and was replaced by Steele, who had previously replaced Jackie Fox, the original bassist for The Runaways. After the release of "All Over The Place", in 1984, the newly reconstituted line-up took off, garnering new fans, mainly young women (natch!) who had no doubt that the Bangles were really playing their own instruments. Unfortunately, friction started to develop among the band members when the press began to single out Hoffs as "the lead singer", harping on her movie star looks and MTV charisma, and ignoring the strong, Beatlesesque harmonies that had always been the band's strong suit. Following the release of their biggest hit, "Eternal Flame", which Hoffs recorded whilst naked (citing Olivia Newton John's contention that she always got her best out of a song when she sang it sans apparel), the band fell apart, with Hoffs focusing on her solo career and Vicki Peterson joining the Go-Go's (from whom Belinda Carlisle and Charlotte Caffey had just departed) on tour. The girls reunited in 1998 to record songs for the new Austin Powers movie soundtrack, but hopes of a lasting reunion were short-lived. Shortly afterward, Steele went on her way for good and was replaced by Abby Travis. The Bangles last went on tour in 2011, in support of their "Sweetheart of The Sun" album.

Lush

Okay, so there are two guys in the band. It was still all about Meriel Barham on vocals and Emma Anderson on guitar. Although the girls considered themselves "punk refugees", the media insisted on tagging them with the annoying "shoegazing" label, despite songs like "Ladykillers" and "Single Girl", and the fact that Perry Farrell, frontman for Jane's Addiction, personally requested Lush as the opening band for Jane's Addiction's Porno For Pyros tour. But even though the band enjoyed a cult status almost from its inception, it is probably best known for the song "Ladykillers", which Barham allegedly wrote about Anthony Kiekis, frontman for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, after he hit on her in an LA bar in front of his girlfriend. Although she never actually mentions Kiekis in the lyrics, the accompanying video features a male actor who can only be described as...well...a dead ringer for the singer, leaving no doubt who the "ladykiller" is supposed to be. On stage, in their mini-skirts and high-heels, their guitars slung low over their hips, Barham and Anderson look like throwbacks to the "new wave" era, but Barham's smoky alto and take-no-prisoners, Cockney-tinged delivery is pure post-punk. The band looked to have strong staying power on the music scene until drummer Chris Acland hung himself in his parents' house in 1996, after which the remaining line-up soldiered on with a substitute drummer for a couple of sad years until finally disbanding for good in 1998.

The Runaways

As good as it was, The Runaways movie that came out a couple of years ago starring Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning as Joan Jett and Cherie Curry, respectively, didn't even come close to scratching the surface of what this all-girl band from the mid-70s was all about. With Lita Ford on lead guitar, Joan Jett on rhythm guitar, Jackie Fox on bass, Sandy West on drums, and a corset-wearing Cherie Currie on lead vocals, the Runaways forged an indelible place in the annals of rock and roll the moment they first took the stage and performed what was to become their best-known single, Cherry Bomb. The band lasted only a few years, of course, and while Jett and Ford would reap even greater success as solo artists, West would end up dying at a tragically early age, and Curie would become most famous for the nervous break-down which resulted from pressues brought on by the band's sudden fame and her own out-of-control drug use, the impact The Runaways had on popular music can't be denied. Girls weren't supposed to be rock and roll stars. They were supposed to be...well...groupies. But the girls in this band had other ideas. And for that we owe them a great big thank you. And how do we thank them? Listen to this...and pass it on to your daughters.

Fanny

David Bowie called them one of "the finest rock and roll bands of their time". Guitar Magazine declared lead guitar player June Millington the hottest female guitarist in the industry. Which makes it all the more tragic that June, her sister Jean (bass and vocals), Alice de Bruher (drums), and Nicky Barclay (keyboards and vocals), who were, without question, one of the best rock and roll bands of the 70s (male or female), have never received anything close to the recognition they deserve from either the music industry or th fans who support it. Sadly, that has a lot to do with the fact that the band recieved almost zero support from Warner Brothers Records when they were plugging away on tour back in the day, despite the fact that they were the first all-female band to sign with a major record label. But none of that diminishes their greatness or the staying power of their music, which they also wrote themselves, and which can still be heard and appreciated on tracks like this one...and this one as well.

The Donnas

They were all born in 1979. They started out playing under the name "The Electrocutes" in their hometown of Palo Alto, California. And like The Ramones, the band they claim first inspired them to pick up instruments and play, they all took the same name, although, in their case, the name they shared was the first name "Donna", which they tagged, respectively, with the first letter of their real last names, so that fans could tell them apart. Although The Donnas have always enjoyed a strong cult following, many of whom refer to themselves as "Donnaholics", and have been a staple on alternative radio since first signing with Lookout! Records in the mid-90s before shifting to Atlantic Records and then to their own label, Purple Feather Records in 2007, The Donnas are one of those bands that not everyone has necessarily heard. But it only takes a quick listen to a song like "Who Invited You" or "Fall Behind Me" to know what The Donnas are all about. And what's that? Kick-ass rock and roll...with no punches pulled...and no apologies for being girls who know how to play their own instruments.

GO-GOS DISCLAIMER

Geez'm crow! This post has been up for less than 24 hours, and I've already heard from people who want to know why I didn't include The Go-Gos in the list. Well, okay...for starters, it's a list of my personal picks for the five best girl bands of all time. I love the Go-Gos (especially that kooky Kathy Valentine), and God knows how many young women they inspired to grab guitars, learn a few basic chords, and start their own bands with the hope of becoming rich and famous and meeting cute guys in English pop bands (ala Jane Weidlin and Terry Hall, lead singer for Fun Boy Three and The Specials). But, crucify me if you will, I just don't consider them one of my five best girl bands. If it were a list of...say...my picks for the ten best girl bands of all time, they'd definitely be on it, probably right between L-7 and The Breeders. But such as it is, this is what I got. Thanks for asking.

That's it for now. Catch you on the downbeat. Skol! xoxxoxoxxooxoxoxo

SUZE ROTOLO DEAD AT 67

In this week's saddest rock and roll news, Suze Rotolo, erstwhile girlfriend and muse of Bob Dylan, died earlier today at the age of 67 from lung cancer. Rotolo is probably best known for lending her heavily-coated presence to the photograph which adorns the cover of 1963's "The Free-Wheelin' Bob Dylan" album. After meeting in Greenwich Village (her lifelong home) in 1961 when Rotolo was 17, the besotted couple moved into a flat together and spent the next three years trying to withstand the gossip and outside pressures which, ultimately (along with Dylan's fascination with Joan Baez) drove them apart. Among several songs on the "Free-wheelin'" album allegedly inspired by Dylan's relationship with Rotolo was "Don't Think Twice", which he claims to have written after she left him to spend three months in Italy, a move Rotolo has said that her mother encouraged to get her away from the musician.

Describing his first sighting of Rotolo in his memoir "Chronicles, Part I", Dylan wrote ""Right from the start I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. She was fair skinned and golden haired, full-blood Italian. The air was suddenly filled with banana leaves. We started talking and my head started to spin. Cupid’s arrow had whistled past my ears before, but this time it hit me in the heart and the weight of it dragged me overboard... Meeting her was like stepping into the tales of 1001 Arabian Nights. She had a smile that could light up a street full of people and was extremely lively, had a kind of voluptuousness-- a Rodin sculpture come to life."

More recently, in her own memoir, Rotolo summed up her split with the rock and roll bard by saying "Bob was charismatic: he was a beacon, a lighthouse, he was also a black hole. He required committed backup and protection I was unable to provide consistently, probably because I needed them myself. I could no longer cope with all the pressure, gossip, truth and lies that living with Bob entailed. I was unable to find solid ground. I was on quicksand and very vulnerable."

Rotolo is survived by her husband, Italian film editor, Enzo Bartoccioli, and a son Lucas, who performs as a guitarist in New York.

Skol! xoxxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo

FIVE GREATEST SONGS BY THE ROLLING STONES

Okay, well, in case you've been living under a stationary (i.e. non-rolling) stone the past few weeks, we've reached the all-important moment in pop culture in which the English rock and roll band known as The Rolling Stones are celebrating fifty years of musical, if not spiritual, togetherness. And you know what that means, don't you? Right...gold star! It's time for me to post my top five picks for the all-time best Rolling Stones songs. Before we get started, though, I feel compelled to point out that I know that, on reading it, there's bound to be someone who takes issue with my choices. But if you happen to be one of those people, please just keep in mind that, when it comes to making song lists, the process is by its very nature totally subjective. So instead of railing against my choices, just make your own list. Or just get drunk. Hell, that's what Keith would do. Anyway...enough talking...let's play some music. Here we go...

Under My Thumb. From 1966's Aftermath album. Feminists must have cringed when they heard Mick sing lyrics like "Under my thumb a squirmy dog who's just had her day...", but, for rock and roll chicks like me, it was just par for the course when it came to the Rolling Stones's "nose-thumbing" attitude toward prevailing social conventions. I used to sing this song with one of my early bands, and although I transposed the lyrics to say "boy" instead of "girl" (at my guitarist's urging), I would have been just as comfortable singing the original words. After all, when Mick and Keith wrote this song, they were only saying what a million other people in screwed up relationships were already thinking. Boy or girl, who doesn't want their lover to be "under (their) thumb"? It's not about male chauvanism, it's about emotion. And emotion is what the Stones have always been best at singing about. And, correct me if I'm wrong (as I so often am) but I believe this is the first major hit by the Stones on which resident meglomaniac and future drowning victim Brian Jones is featured playing the marimba instead of rhythm guitar. Another interesting sidenote (especially for feminists) is that Camille Paglia, French feminist author of a slew of books on the role of women in history and in pop culture, was derided by more mainstream feminists after she declared her admiration for the song. So....what's not to like? If someone, somewhere, is offended, then the Rolling Stones have done their job...and given the world a kick-ass song in the process.

Satisfaction. From 1965's Out Of Our Heads album (U.S.) and released as a single in the UK that same year. I couldn't show my face among Stones fans if I didn't include this song on this list. But its inclusion is not gratuitous. Apart from Keith's famous insistance that he came up with the melody in his sleep and, upon waking, hurriedly recorded it on a tape deck he kept at his bedside, this is the song for which the band is probably best known, even by those people who couldn't care less about who and what the Rolling Stones really are. A scathing condemnation of commercialism and (possibly) sexual frustration (although why Mick Jagger or Keith Richards would be feeling sexually frustrated at that point in their joint music career is anyone's guess), this song still resonates as strongly with the current generations as it did with the one of which the early Stones were a part. And for my money...it always will.

19th Nervous Breakdown. From 1966's Aftermath album. Shoot me if you don't agree, but as far as I'm concerned, this is the song in which the Stones really came into their own lyrics-wise. Mick told one interviewer that he came up with the title of the song first, and then wrote the lyrics around it. And apart from Keith's driving guitar licks and that little "Bo Diddley" tribute by Brian Jones in the middle, it's the lyrics that make this tune. "Your father's still perfecting ways of making sealing wax" pretty much says it all about the scorn with which the baby boomer generation viewed their parents' desperate allegience to the status quo. A rough and tumble, chaotic mess from beginning to end, this Stones song always makes me want to stop whatever I'm doing and say "to hell" with society and all of its pretensions. That was the case the first time I heard it...and it hasn't changed. Kudos, guys.

Gimme Shelter. From 1969's Let It Bleed album. Personally, I don't give a flying f-word if Keith Richards came up with the idea for this song on a rainy day in London on which he had begun to suspect that Mick was sleeping with his drug-addled and highly over-rated girlfriend Anita Pallenberg. The song totally transcends the inter-band issues wreaking havoc among the members of the Stones in 1969 during the recording of Let it Bleed, which I consider, arguably, their greatest album next to 1972's Exile On Main Street. I mean, think about it. You've got Keith hammering out one of his best guitar solos ever, a soul choir back-up thing going on in the background, and Mick screeching out anguished lyrics that could be about anything from personal trauma to political upheaval around the world. For me, this song exemplifies what the Stones have always really been about: pure emotion, angst, and the ever-present threat of darkness at the edge of town...yours, mine, anybody's. Bottom line, if this was the only song I had ever heard by the Rolling Stones, I would, without a moment's hesitation, drop to my knees and kiss the stage that Keith Richards had just thrown up on. And liked it.

Sympathy For The Devil. From 1968's Beggar's Banquet album. Ever had an orgasm? If the answer is "yes", then you know what I mean when I say that this song is like the Stones' "Big O" gift to the world. Were the Stones really secret followers of satanism? Highly doubt it. But they were genuises when it came to capturing the dark side of the zeitgest of the times in which they lived and played, and this song is their crowning achievement in that vein. Backed by a voodoo percussion beat and a whole lot of ethereal "woo-hoos", Mick references every screwed up political theme from the crucifixion of Jesus Christ to the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and doing so, not only shows off the musical intensity that makes the Stones great, but reminds us of what sort of world in which we, the listeners, are really living in. Originally conceived by Mick as a folky sort of tune, the song came really came into its own after Keith insisted on more percussion, turning it into a sort of quasi-samba meets rock and roll affair. And, just for the record, this was not the song the Stones were playing when Meredith Hunter was stabbed to death by an overzealous Hell's Angel at the Rolling Stones concert at the Altamount Speedway in 1969. The soundtrack for that nasty bit of business was "Under My Thumb."

So...that's it. What else can I say? Except...if I hadn't limited this list to five songs, I'd be writing all day. But I have other things to do. Too bad. I'd rather be writing about the Stones. Skol! xoxxoxoxooxoxxoxxo

SONGS FOR A LONELY SUMMER NIGHT

High summer night in a small city somewhere on the east coast of America. Streetlights illuminate the front doors of houses on quiet streets, lamps inside windows beam out snapshots of strangers' lives, windchimes tinkle over sillohuetted gardens, plastic gnomes, pink flamingos waiting for the sun. In the distance, the sound of traffic like a movie score, red lights blink against the neon glow of store windows with locked doors and deserted parking lots. And somewhere, in the locked down little city that fell asleep before the eleven o'clock news, there is someone like you, walking alone, or sitting by a window, a glass in hand, a cigarette smoldering between their fingers, waiting for "it" to happen, without knowing exactly what "it" is, but hoping, with every sip of whatever poison fills their glass, and every slow draw of smoke, that "it" will be enough to make up for what hasn't happened so far...on all the other summer nights just like this one...in this nowhere city...at the shallow end of the bigger, better, brighter rest of the world.

These are my top five picks for the best songs for that kind of night.

Send Me An Angel was a hit in 1984 for the Australian synth-pop band Real Life, and, for me, captures the sense of longing and quiet despair that we've all felt at some point as we wonder whether we'll ever find that one person who will make us feel less lonely in the night.

Moonlight Sonata is the name by which most of us know this beautiful piano sonata completed by Ludwig von Beethoven in 1801. But its real name, Piano Sonata 14 in C Sharp Minor (Quasi Una Fantasia), does nothing to diminish its beauty and the aching poignancy which underscores very note. One of Beethoven's most popular compositions, it was likened by the German music critic Ludwig Rellstab to the musical equivalent of moonlight streaming across a lake. The comparison stuck, thus giving the song its more well known name. And I can't imagine that anyone who has ever listened to it would take issue with that perfect, universally evocative image.

"Images of Heaven", recorded by Peter Godwin, former lead singer for the British "new wave" band Metro, was one of the first major synth pop hits of the early 80s. Its haunting, extended intro made it a cult favorite when it hit the radio airwaves in 1882, but the accompanying video, which featured a lionskin rug that turned into a naked woman, was banned from MTV. A replacement video, showing Godwin pining over a beautiful woman whose image adorns a cereal box, doesn't quite capture the melancholic feel of the song, which is, essentially, the universal longing we all sometimes feel when we see the beautiful images of people and place far out of our reach. Even now, with "new wave" a distant memory, the song still holds up as a stirring soundtrack for a lonely summer night.

Brit band Talk Talk had already a string of hits such as "It's My Life" and "Talk Talk" when "Such A Shame" was released in 1984, but this is the song that caught critics' attention with its surreal, out of synch video which featured singer Mark Hollis assuming an incongrously cheeky demeanor as he sang the bitterly sarcastic lyrics. Despite the subdued anger that underscores the song, it still captures the ache and longing of a scorned lover on his own in the city in the night...in 1984 or 2012.

A lot of years were very good ones for Frank Sinatra, but this song puts it all in pensive perspective. "It Was A Very Good Year", written by Ervin Drake and first recorded by the Kingston Trio, is the sort of song that just begs to be played softly in the background as you lie in bed and listen to the distant sounds of the city night. And as sung by Frank Sintra, who won a Grammy for Best Male Vocalist for his 1966 rendition, it's about as perfect as a nightscape soundtrack can get. Even if you're not a middle-aged man reflecting on the phases of your life, this song will still whisper your name in the dark.

There you have it. Our five top picks for songs for a lonely summer night. But don't feel too lonely, listening to them. Morning is just around the corner. And there's a soundtrack for that, too. Skol! xoxxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo

BISEXUAL CONFESSIONAL

As an adjunct post to the one I just did on the "shocking" revelation that Mick Jagger and David Bowie hooked up back in the early 70s, I thought I'd add some perspective by revealing some allegedly (and not so allegedly) bi-sexual stars that Mr. Jagger didn't sleep with...at least as far as we know.

JAMES DEAN: STILL ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR SEXY DEAD GUYS AROUND...AND SOOOO BISEXUAL.

WALTER PIDGEON. STARRED WITH GERMAINE GREER IN "MRS. MINERVA" AND YELLED THAT HE WASN'T GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE IN "NETWORK TV". SWUNG BOTH WAYS. ALLEGEDLY.

OH, RUDY! YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT RUDOLPH VALENTINO WAS BI? HEADS UP: SO WAS ONE OF HIS GIRLFRIENDS, JANE ACKER. SEEMS THAT THE GOLDEN AGE OF HOLLYWOOD HAD A FEW TARNISHED CORNERS...AT LEAST AS FAR AS SOME PEOPLE WERE CONCERNED. BUT AS LATIN LOVERS GO, I THINK THE "THE SHEIK" STILL HOLDS THE BAR ON CHARISMA AND ALL AROUND MYSTIQUE.

CYNTHIA NIXON MADE IT CLEAR WHEN SHE SAID "BISEXUALITY IS NOT A CHOICE." WAS THAT WHY SHE WAS ALWAYS SLURPING ALL THOSE COSMOPOLITANS ON 'SEX AND THE CITY"? PERSONALLY, I THINK IT WAS BECAUSE SHE HAD TO SPEND ALL THAT TIME PRETENDING TO BE REPRESSED.

ANNA PACQUIN IS MARRIED TO A MAN, BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN A WOMAN. SHE SAYS SHE'S BI. GUESS THAT'S WHY SHE PLAYS A VAMPIRE ON "TRUE BLOOD." THE UNDEAD HAVE ALWAYS BEEN KNOWN FOR THEIR BITING EDGE WHEN IT COMES TO ROMANCE.

LADY GAGA. OF COURSE.

THE ORIGINAL "GRETA." MS. GARBO WAS ONE CLASSIC MOVIE STAR WHO DARED TO BE HERSELF...AND WE'RE STILL DISCOVERING HOW MANY FACETS THERE WERE TO THAT "SELF." SHE SAID SHE WANTED TO BE ALONE. BUT WHEN SHE WASN'T...IT WAS ON HER OWN TERMS.

Well, that's it for now. Hope you learned something. If not, I've done my job. Here's to keeping it shallow. Skol! xoxxoxoxxoxo

MICK JAGGER AND DAVID BOWIE SLEPT HERE....TOGETHER. (SURPRISE)

Mick Jagger and David Bowie slept together? Really? In case you haven't heard, that's one of the "scandalous" revelations inside the pages of "Mick: The Wild Life And Mad Genuis of Jagger", the new, sure-to-be-best-selling book by Christopher Andersen. Yup, that's right. According to Andersen, Mick Jagger, rapidly aging front man for the Rolling Stones and the man behind the most famous lips in rock and roll, apparently didn't get enough "satisfaction" bedding models, actresses, and the occasional groupie. Turns out that he went on a little "space oddity" with fellow surreal superstar David Bowie as well. Shocked? I'm not. If you read Keith Richard's memoir, "Life" (in which he devotes at least as much time to outing his long-time bandmate as an almost pathelogical womanizer as he does to describing the many and varied ways he managed to stay high on drugs all those years), you know that Jagger is a man who likes to keep in step with the times. That's why we have cool songs like "Miss You" on the Stones' 1978 album "Some Girls" and less cool, and very awkward duets like "(You've Got To Walk) And Don't Look Back", which Jagger recorded with the late Peter Tosh the same year. It's apparently not enough for Mick Jagger, arguably one of the greatest front men of all time for one of the (inarguably) greatest rock and roll bands of all time, to be...well...Mick Jagger. He's obsessed with staying hip as well. And back in 1973, David Bowie was pretty much the hippest thing around, at least in rock and roll circles. The progenitor of the glam look whose sexually ambiguous alter ego "Ziggy Stardust" sent a generation of drag queens scrambling for orange hair dye and sequin-studded platform shoes was, we are told, so irresistable to Mick that he not only befriended Mr. Bowie, he bedded him, too.

It's not really that hard to imagine, when you think about it. Mick Jagger has always struck me as more than a little sexually ambiguous himself. Even back in the early days of the Stones, when they were all wearing turtlenecks and blazers and tight checkered pants, Mick mostly came off as someone trying to look like a normal guy. I mean, hell, can you imagine walking into an insurance company or a bank and being ushered into the office of a man with those lips? You wouldn't even be able to concentrate on the damned conversation. You'd be too busy wondering what his tongue looked like. And whether he was planning on licking you with it before you got the hell out of there. I wonder if that was what Bowie was thinking on the night that ol' Mick first came backstage to chat him up. Or was it something more along the lines of "Should I palm him off on (wife) Angela, or take him for a spin on my own?" Whatever it was, Andersen's book tells us that the two icons of androgyny shared a "genuine sexual attraction" which ultimately led to Angela discovering them lolling about in the Bowie bed one morning. According to Angela, she was surprised, but mainly jealous, since she fancied a roll in the hay with the Monkey Man herself. But ever the glam rock housewife hostess, she simply asked her husband's guest if he wanted coffee. Interestingly, there's no mention in Andersen's book about whether Mrs. Bowie, or even Bowie himself, found anything lacking in Mr. Jagger's...um...equipment. Too bad. I'd like to know if the scathing assessment that Mick's most active organ received in Keith Richards' book was genuine or just a bit of sour grapes...which, by the way, would be larger than the size Richards attributes to it. But back to Bowie...

Personally, as a long time admirer of both David Bowie and The Rolling Stones, as well as the early 1970s rock scene in general, the only thing that really surprises me about the Bowie/Jagger revelation is that it's considered to be a "revelation" at all. 1973. Okay...we're talking New York Dolls, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Marc Bolan, Alice Cooper, and a slew of other eyeliner-sporting glam rock stars who tossed off the "I'm bisexual" line the same way that Snooki gabs about her latest hang-over. Only six years before, in 1967, the commercial music industry had been forced to bow to the changing times predicted by Bob Dylan and exemplified by the newly-named "hippies" who poured en masse into San Francisco that summer and declared that city the official headquarters for "The Summer Of Love." For the next half-decade, it wasn't so much who you were sleeping with that mattered as it was how guilt-free you felt whilst doing it. By the time glam rock hit the mainstream in the early 70's, the concept of "free love" had expanded into just plain "free." And what was more emblematic of being "free" than declaring that you slept with girls and boys? Never mind that almost all of the early 70s glam rock bi-boys ended up with women (except for, of course, Marc Bolan, who ended up dead). Back then, in the thick of it all, everyone in the music world was freaking bi-sexual.

Even so, one thing does bug me about the alleged sexual relationship between Bowie and Jagger. How is it that two iconoclastic figures of rock and roll who are responsible for creating some of the most culturally significant music of all time could, after having slept with each other and (presumably) enjoying it, reunite in 1985 for the purpose of making the worst video to ever have been foisted upon the viewing public? Ziggy Stardust would have cringed at the sight of all that cheesy choreography. And early 1960s Mick Jagger...hell, early 1970s, late 1970s, and early 1980s Mick Jagger, for that matter...would probably have asked Keith to get him hooked on heroin just so he could block out the visual. I mean, take a look and tell me if I'm wrong...

Bottom line, the book sounds like a great read for those of us who get off on backstage anecdotes and bedroom confessions of the classic rock scene. But the so-called revelation of Mick Jagger and David Bowie's erstwhile "love connection" is, to me, nowhere near as interesting as reading about the things their friends and lovers had to say about them as individuals. My favorite line, hands down? Comes from Jerri Hall, Mick Jagger's ex-wife, the mother of four of his children, and a woman who still looks like she would be happier sitting by a suburban pool in Texas. Talking about Mick's wayward ways with other women (and maybe David Bowie), she said, "I hope he finds happiness. But I'm not churning up inside about it."

Skol! xoxoxxoxoxoxoxo

UPCOMING POSTS

With the passing of actors Ernest Borgnine and Andy Griffith this past week, it seems only right to devote a post to them. Trouble is, there's already so much out there about them, to try to add something meaningful to it here on this blog seems like a fairly daunting task. That realization made me very sad...until I remembered that this is a blog dedicated to the concept of being shallow! So why the hell shouldn't I go for it? Right...I should. So next post, I'll be telling you all about my favorite "Mayberry RFD" episodes and characters...AND why "Marty", the movie for which Borgnine won a much-deserved Oscar is one of the best and most underrated films of all time. Salivating? Well, for God's sake, get yourself a Kleenex. But don't forget to check back for our shallow tribute to two actors who deserve tons of credit, shallow or otherwise, for being amazing, without having been handsome, sexy, or particularly cool...which, when you think about it, actually makes them kind of sexy and cool...if not handsome. See you then.

Skol! xoxxoxoxoxxo

THE FINAL WORD ON TOILET ART

For those who liked the last post on arty and cool (and bizarre) toilets, here's one more...and the last for a while. After all, there's more to life than cool toilets. And it's time I started focusing on them. But for tonight...one more time...enjoy!

A glowing endorsement of toilet tastelessness....although, for my money, I'd take this toilet over one with a Clorox shine anyday...

Killing two birds with one stone...

Some might call these urinals "bad taste", but considering the state of most public toilets, it's something of a step up...

Too busy for a pit stop? Here's your answer. Just try to be discreet, if you can...

Okay, that's it. For real. For now anyway. If you come across some cool toilet pics on your own, feel free to send 'em our way. Until then....skol! xoxoxxoxoxoxo

MORE TOILET ART...

Well, here it is the eve of the Fourth, and as my friends and family members prepare to celebrate tomorrow, I have decided to ignore all requests to make potato salad in order to bring you, my fellow Shallowites, yet another post on toilet art. No need to thank me. I live to serve. Your job is simply to enjoy. So...ready? Good. Let's make like the Charmin and roll...

And you thought real clowns were scary...

Wonder what Mick Jagger would think? Maybe "Satisfaction"....

You don't have to be a musician to use this toilet, but it probably helps...

Ever wondered what happened to all those goldfish you flushed down the toilet when you were a kid? Mystery solved.

Who says that taking a leak can't be a religious experience?

Gives the term "ladies room" a whole new connotation, doesn't it?

For those times when you forget to bring along a little reading material...

These urinals really hit the right note...

Putting the sexy back into urination...

Money may not buy happiness, but it can pay for a pretty swanky toilet...

Not for the faint of heart...

Sink into pink...with a glass of wine. Why not?

The "Angry Man" toilet. For those who just don't feel like taking a leak, but have no choice.

For the masochist who has everything...

Well, that's it for this toilet art post. Hope you enjoyed your little stroll through the bizarre world of unusual urinals and toilet bowls. See you next time. Skol! oxoxxoxoxoxoxo

WHEN ART GOES IN THE TOILET....

With the Fourth of July only a day away, it seems like the perfect time for a post on...what else?...toilet art! And so, with no further preamble...enjoy!

A tasteful decal makes for a quietly quirky private moment in the loo...

Summer flowers in a toilet planter make for a lovely garden ornament...

Taking the same theme to a slightly more arty green...

Cat got your...uh...tail?

Well, that's my shallow look at toilet art for this post. Have a happy Fourth if you're celebrating. If not...have a hot dog and shoot off your own fireworks anyway! Skol! xoxoxxoxoxxo