It has come to my attention that today is Leonard Nimoy’s 79th birthday. His Star Trek co-star and off-screen friend William Shatner turned 79 only a few days ago, on Monday. Strange to think that they’re so close to the same age, and even stranger to think of how advanced that age is getting to be.
This is a morbid notion, but I find myself wondering how long one will outlast the other when time inevitably catches up to them. They’ve spent so much of their lives seemingly in parallel. When one of them finally passes away, will the survivor go on for years more, or will they be like a long-married couple who die within days of one another, unable to continue without their beloved?
But that of course is in the future — hopefully, the distant future. For now, tonight, let us celebrate the friendship and longevity of two men who, 45 years ago, accepted what must’ve seemed like nothing more than a fun little acting job that might last a couple seasons, and ended up becoming icons and heroes to millions. Cheers, guys, and many happy returns!
Only one video this week, kids, but it’s a bit longer than average, so maybe that will help cushion the blow:
This was the song that made me a Def Leppard fan. Up until this point of their career, I’d dismissed them without even bothering to listen to their stuff. The dippy spelling of their name and the generally ominous look of their album covers had given me the impression that they were another bunch of scary head-bangers along the same lines as Motley Crue or Iron Maiden; as much I liked rock, the really hard stuff was never my cup of tea. But then one afternoon, I was hanging out in that student-union television lounge I’ve written about before, and I happened to glance up from my book in time to catch one of those lovely shots of the classic cars driving through the late-afternoon autumn sunshine. I instantly identified with the imagery — that was how I spent most of my weekends in those days, driving my massive old Ford Galaxie up and down the nearby canyons, in search of inspiration or enlightenment or simply something to do, and this video captured the same quality of light that I loved (and still love) to bathe myself in during those drives — so I kept watching. And I listened, too, and the song itself clicked with my mood that afternoon.
This particular song transports me back to that time of my life more completely than any other memory trigger I can think of. Just reviewing the video for today’s entry has stirred up all kinds of things: the greasy-salty taste and texture of the English chips I liked to snack on during the long gap before my evening philosophy class; the smell of my first leather jacket (pigskin, slightly more pungent than the more common cowhide jackets); the cheap paperback bio of Janis Joplin I borrowed from my aunt Sharon and devoured in a couple hours while lying on the grass under a tree in back of President’s Circle. I remember my general emotional state in those days, too, a heady mixture of curiosity, enthusiasm, hope, lust, and an aimless yearning for something I couldn’t quite define. (The yearning is still there, but the other stuff tends to come and go more than it did then.)
And I especially remember this one particular girl… she was younger than me, some kind of prodigy who’d been moved up a grade or two, whip-smart but more than a little flaky. Being away from home at the big old university eventually proved to be too much of her, and she vanished toward the end of our freshman year. I have no idea what became of her; I imagine she went back home, wherever that was, and attended a community college for a couple years until she felt more confident. If I’d been smarter, or at least more assertive, I might’ve tracked her down. She had gray eyes, you see… they aren’t just an affectation in bad novels, they really do exist. Gray eyes, and long, straight, honey-colored hair. And most days she wore these knee-high moccasin boots. She dared me once to kiss those boots.
Hysteria, when you’re near…
I don’t know about you guys, but that seems like a good image to end the work week on.
Here’s another example of what seems to be a developing Internet meme, photographs of the stars of Twilight oblivious to a lurking menace from another movie:
An article in today’s Tribune notes that the theater group that was displaced from the old West Jordan Sugar Factory last week will be able to produce the final two plays of its current schedule in a nearby middle school.
Meanwhile, just three shows remain for the current production, See How They Run, which you may recall features my friend Geoff Richards in a prominent role. Once again, I urge any of my local readers who may see this to check it out either tonight, or on Saturday when there’s both a matinee and an evening show.
As for the fate of the sugar factory itself, that’s still up in the air, but the linked article states that the West Jordan City Council is at least considering trying to save the structure. I’m not holding my breath — Utah generally has a pretty lousy record when it comes to preserving historic buildings — but I’m glad to hear the bulldozers aren’t yet on their way…
Is it just me, or do Tuesday afternoons always seem rather elongated? They have none of the settling-back-into-the-routine bustle of a Monday. They lack the over-the-hump frisson of a Wednesday, or the gathering steam of Thursday, or Friday’s downhill sprint (or leisurely stroll, depending on the pace of your particular workplace) toward the weekend. No, Tuesdays just sort of sit there, like that bad food-court burger you ate last night and can still feel, lodged somewhere in the vicinity of your duodenum and seeming like it’s in no hurry to go either up or down.
At least that’s how this Tuesday afternoon is feeling to me, just sitting there all cold and gristly and utterly lacking in nutritional value. Seems like a good time for some Star Wars-flavored netcrap, and SamuraiFrog has a most excellent serving for us:
Yeah, that’s probably exactly what Han was thinking. Not that he could criticize much, of course, not after some of the unspeakable mischief he and the Wook probably got up to back in their old spice-smuggling days. No, not Han and the Wook, you perverts. I just meant that there were probably lots of occasions when they served as each other’s wingman in whatever passed for singles’ bars out there on the Outer Rim… no, really… stop looking at me like that!
A few miles up the road from my house stands the old West Jordan Sugar Factory, a relic of a nearly forgotten Utah industry. Yes, kids, we used to make sugar in this state! Not from sugar cane, as you might expect, but from a type of beet that was grown all over the southern end of the Salt Lake Valley. Those days ended around the time of my birth, though, and for as long as I can remember, that old factory, with its twin silos and long, narrow warehouses, has been nothing more than a shuttered and decaying landmark. But about a decade ago, news that the old freight line running past the place was going to be repurposed for the TRAX light-rail transit system sparked a new interest in that area, and wildly optimistic development plans were soon flying. The old industrial complex, it was said, would soon become the heart of a retail node, filled with shops, restaurants, art galleries, and entertainment venues.
Fast-forward to the present. The Mid-Valley TRAX line is under construction and due to open about a year from now, and the old factory, while still mostly ramshackle and uninhabitable, has had its first tenant for a couple of years, a community theater group called the Sugar Factory Playhouse. (My local readers probably know where I’m going with this story, if they’ve been following the news lately, but I ask your indulgence. Everyone keep reading, please…)
Here’s one I’ve chosen specially for my friend Cranky Robert:
It’s kind of weird, considering how much of this crap I watched as a kid, but I don’t recall ever seeing this particular video until today. I knew the song, of course — I doubt if anyone in my general age bracket doesn’t — but the corresponding video somehow fell through the cracks. It amuses me that the early ’80s as depicted here looks much more like the ’70s than what we usually think of as “The Eighties” — no shoulder pads, florescent colors, or big hair in sight! It’s also notable just how bloody young Joan Jett appears to be; I’ve always imagined the face behind that chainsaw voice as so mature and experienced. Well, she may have been, ahem, experienced — that whole rock-n-roll lifestyle thing, you know — but a little googling and some math reveals she was all of 22 years old when the song was recorded in 1981. Like a lot of the girls I had a thing for in high school, she looks to me now like a kid who was trying to look much tougher than she probably felt. Genuinely tough or not, though, Joan is at least more masculine-looking than the guy who’s “standing by the record machine.”
And is it just me, or is Joan giving off a distinct Suzi Quatro vibe in this… anyone else remember her? I can’t recall if she actually had any charting hits in the U.S., but she made a bit of a splash with a recurring role on Happy Days; she played Leather Tuscadero, the little sister of Fonzie’s occasional girlfriend, Pinky Tuscadero. (You’re probably asking yourself how the hell I remember all this stuff… it’s a gift, my friends. Or perhaps a curse… there are days when I’m not quite sure.)
I always thought this song originated with Joan Jett, but it turns out she was covering an earlier band called The Arrows; their version of “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll” was released in 1975, and if you’re curious, you can listen to it here. Jett’s version seems to have attained evergreen status — it turned up in the movie Wayne’s World 2 back in the ’90s and is featured on the popular Guitar Hero game — but the song was recently covered again by Britney Spears. Needless to say, Britney’s version doesn’t have quite the same umph as Jett’s. I’ve got nothing against Spears, but that girl doesn’t know anything about rock ‘n’ roll. Talk about a kid trying to be tougher than she is.
Anyhow, in true block-party weekend fashion, here’s one more selection from Joan and the Blackhearts, in which she’s looking much more feminine and (in my humble opinion) tres sexy. This is “Crimson and Clover,” a cover version of the old 1968 hit from Tommy James and the Shondells, from the same album as “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll”:
Okay, the title for this entry is a little over the top, but so is this utterly insane illustration I ran across over at Boing Boing:
I know, I don’t quite get it either… why would Batman be fighting a great white shark with a lightsaber, of all things? Who the hell knows… or cares? It’s Batman. Fighting a shark. With a lightsaber! It’s self-evident!
And on that note, I’m heading out in search of corned beef and Guinness… Happy St. Pat’s Day!
As Jaquandor notes, this question-and-answer doohickey (he calls them “quiz things,” I’ve always heard them called memes, and I’m not sure which is more appropriate) starts off with pretty innocuous stuff, but then becomes quite a bit more inflammatory starting at question nine. I’m feeling kind of feisty today, though, so I figure what the hell. Be warned that if you choose to read on, you may learn more about me than you really want to know. I won’t be held responsible for any blood-pressure spikes that may result.
I’m kind of preoccupied with that Runaways movie tonight, so I thought I’d follow up on the previous entry with the actual trailer:
I’m a little weirded out by how excited I am to see this… but I guess it’s not that big of a surprise. I love biopics about musicians; I love the ’70s; I love rock and roll; I love teenage girls — um, I mean, I love looking at teenage… oh wait, that doesn’t sound right either. Ah, hell, I just think this looks like a good movie about an interesting subject.
And for the record, the car that the girls are jumping on at about the 1:16 mark is a Ford Galaxie like mine; it’s a hard top instead of a convertible, but it’s definitely a ’63. Those deep round taillights are unmistakable. So this flick already has one point in its favor…
