As a now de facto member of the mass media, I feel it is my responsibilty to keep abreast of the latest developments in commerce that might provide comfort (bacon, covered in chocolate!) and aid (this here Kush) to my readers.
Who knew? Certainly not I. I guess when Tammy Wynette sings, "Sometimes it's hard to be a woman," I know only a tenth of the story (okay, maybe a millionth). All along I thought shaving my face a couple times a week and remembering to turn my socks inside out for wearing the second consecutive day were just about the limits of one's capacity for personal upkeep. Call me a boob. I wonder if former college football coach Frank Kush gets any royalties.
You never have to look far to find proof of rampant absurdity in our world. Today at the bookstore, I was shelving a new novel written by Ralph Nader. Yes, that one. See what I mean? This struggling scribe certainly doesn't want to plug that book, so no title, but it is very thick and sports a brightly garish cover. What really is absurd, though, it ended up being shelved right next to Nabokov's Lolita. Say what you will about politics, but literature (real or alleged) makes for some really bent bedfellows. Reminds me of the fact that early in their careers, Marlon Brando and Wally Cox were roommates.
No wonder this life-long Cleveland boy is thinking about Hawaii tonight. I've never been there, probably never will go there, and to be honest, I don't really have much desire to go there. Any place that seems perpetually sunny gives me, a pale redhead (there's some redundancy for you) the fantods. Something tells me I'd be allergic to a lei, too. I don't think I've ever watched an entire episode of Hawaii Five-O, either, but I've sure heard "Book 'em, Danno" enough for one lifetime.
Two months ago I was at a party and started making small talk with a European woman who had just moved to Cleveland after about twenty years of living in Hawaii. On this particular night she was cold. In July! I was waxing poetic about the wonderfully unique four seasons we experience every year in Cleveland, she was waxing nostalgic about how every day in Hawaii it's 84 degrees. I asked her if Hawaii had any kind of a discernible winter. "Yes," she said. "It only gets to 82." Well, that's been about the funniest retort I've heard in months.
Anyway, I can't explain why I love these three songs, other than the fact that life is absurd, and so are these three songs. The singing, from Brian Wilson's heavenly falsetto, to Warren Zevon's simpering, voice-breaking loser, to Bruno Wolfe's (who he?) side-of-the-mouth world-weary leering, is a three-course absurdist's delight.
Two months from now I could be shovelling snow and reading Ralph Nader's novel for my book club while throwing a ukulele at the TV set during a Browns game and in the process somehow switching the channel permanently to the Hawaii Five-O channel. Who do you think cleaned the bathroom, Marlon or Wally?
Dan Rourke is a Creative Workforce Fellow. The Creative Workforce Fellowship is a program of the Community Partnership for Arts and Culture. The Fellowship program is supported by the residents of Cuyahoga County through a public grant from Cuyahoga Arts & Culture. Dan writes, reads, and listens in Cleveland, Ohio. Contact me: spitoutyourgumblog@gmail.com
