The One Hundred

I love donuts. There’s no way around it.

I would shout it from the rooftops if I could. I would write them sonnets. I would sprinkle rose petals all around their apartment. I would propose to them on our vacation in Italy in front of complete strangers (and their parents who I secretly flew in just to see me do it).

I love donuts.

I think they are the perfect food because anytime is a good time for donuts. Morning, perfect with a cup of coffee. Lunch, afternoon snack, table for two! Dinner, hello dessert! They are perfect.

But I do have to admit that I’m sort of — well, not picky — just now I find I have to be in the mood for certain donuts. When Krispy Kreme finally made it’s way out to California, I could not get enough of them. They were SO GOOD. Still are — when they’re hot. But I think I ate myself into burnout with them because now, they don’t hold that same magic with me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t turn down an offer — I just sort of prefer the regular old ones, the ones you find in the little mini malls that for some reason (at least here in the L.A. area) all seem to be run by people of asian descent. Not that I care. It could be a naked woman back there dishing them out and I probably wouldn’t notice. I normally focus my attention on that lovely display of donuts of all shapes and sizes. The Apple Fritters – deep fried death never tasted so good. The jelly filled. The custard filled. Sprinkles. Nuts. Hell, even plain ones.

It’s like that saying about sex –which totally applies to donuts — even when they’re bad, they’re still kind of good.

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Well, we may as well just stop blogging now. It will really never be as awesome as that poster.

I really do like the de-motivational posters. The internet is lousy with them, all you have to do is look (Google, do your stuff!). I’ve always felt that the motivational posters had their hearts in the right place but just by existing they are cheesy and being that the positive message can be purchased in many formats (including mugs and mouse pads) makes it El Queso Grande and ripe for parody.

I really like the Star Trek ones (the James T. Kirk one is the best IMO) and if you search them out you’ll find that most of them hit the nail on the head (and sometimes a little too close to home).

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I made my first mixtape in the summer of 1992.

Ever since then I have been a mix tape junkie. More than just a collection of songs, the right mix tape has the ability to conjure up memories of what you were doing at that particular place and time when you made it. I recently found an old tape and popped it in – just by the first few songs I knew that it was made for a party we had thrown over a decade ago. I was instantly transported back to that apartment on Bentley Ave and became slightly nauseous thinking about the potent combination of Goldschalger and Swisher Sweets.

Alas, the mixtape has fallen on hard times of late, its position usurped by its better looking, but soulless stepbrother, the mix CD. These days anyone can load a playlist into iTunes, press burn, and walk away – only to have a nice little package neatly delivered to them in fifteen minutes. But making a mixtape took skill. And time. And sweat. You had to have all your music cued up to the exact starting place and, especially when working with cassettes, you needed nerves of steel to push that pause button at the exact moment when your song ended but before the next one began. And don’t even get me started on making sure you got all your songs on without running out of tape – man, we were flying without a net back then. I also liked the idea of side A and side B. It was easier to keep a nice flow going when you only had 7 or 8 songs a side to work with, then you took a nice little intermission to flip it over and start up again. When you have 20 songs in a row on a CD it is harder to keep a theme going and honestly, I usually lose interest about 13 songs in. Even making the art work took time. I remember many late nights at Kinkos – cutting, pasting, and photocopying a cover – it may not have looked as good as those made on a computer, but there was something special about all that effort, a fact to which anyone who has ever received a homemade tape can attest.

I still remember that first mixtape I ever made -there were two actually, two 100 minute Maxells – a 3 hour and 20 minute behemoth drawing the best from my music catalog up to that point. Even after all these years I still have one of those tapes and have been listening to it for the past few days. It really takes me back. And each time I hear those songs from my youth I always think the same thing -”Tuck and Patti…seriously Jon,WTF, you were an 18 year old male listening to Tuck and Patti? Hey, someone call the FBI – I think we have solved the mystery as to why you had time to sit in your room and make three hour mixtapes.”

Ahhhh..memories…

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When I was a boy, my favorite Super Heroes were The Flash, Colossus, and Captain Marvel (better known as Shazam). Not your typical favorites when there were far more colorful… and I’ll go ahead and say it… more popular characters to dote on. Batman. Wolverine. Superman. But I always liked those three.

As I got older I began to favor another hero — The Green Lantern (and if you can get past the fact that as I got older I was still thinking about comic books and super heroes, you should be able to get through this blog just fine).

But it wasn’t because Hal Jordan (GL’s secret identity) was fearless or heroic, it was that ring. The ring can do ANYTHING. Sure the Flash can run really fast and Colossus is really strong and Captain Marvel can fly but because of that ring, GL can do it all (except running faster than the speed of light — but really, who’s in that much of a hurry?).

Anything you can imagine the ring will make it happen. Yes, you have to charge it every 24 hours but that’s not bad considering I almost have to do that to my ipod now and all my ipod does is play music and videos. It’s like having Aladdin’s lamp resting on your ring finger. Except you get as many wishes as you want and they never run out.

Does it get better than that?

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“It is 5AM and you are listening… to Los Angeles.”

The first time I heard Soul Coughing, it made me think about cartoons.

Jon (the other guy who posts here) played them for me. He used to work at a really cool record store that doesn’t exist anymore. He used to come home from work (we were roommates at the time) with the strangest music, but then again he’s always been all over the board when it comes to music. But when he played “Bus to Beelzebub” for me, the thing that immediately struck me was the background sample they were using.

“Hey! That’s… the Looney Tunes industrial theme!” It was the only name I could come up with that expressed my thought. I found out later that the actual song title was “Power House” and the artist was a guy by the name of Raymond Scott (genius! – look him up).

That was the hook that caught me but it took a while to reel me in. I actually got into their second album “Irresistible Bliss” before I really got into their first (Ruby Vroom) and by the time “El Oso” came out, I was a full fledged fan.

I will forever be jealous of Mike Doughty’s seeming inability to not spout out genius lyrics/verses. A lot of it seems like it could be stream of consciousness but it only takes one listen to “Screenwriter’s Blues” to know that he knows what he’s doing and he knows he does it well.

They’re gone now as most good things don’t last. Doughty has his own thing now and I’m not sure what the others are doing. Doughty is still good and I look forward to his releases/concerts (except when they are at 10 at night on a Tuesday. In Silverlake. eeesh.) but… it’s just not Soul Coughing.

Damn, I really miss that sound.

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