it comes in pints?

I don't have a happy place anymore. That picture at Lucianne killed my happy.

Something about these phillies makes me happy.

Those are some nice phillies, though I never realized you felt that way about horses.

It explains a lot, Emily.

Beautiful!

In fairness to Cullen, it may simply be that he is not a poor speller, but just has a thang for Pennsylvania baseball players.

Porr slepper indeyd.

This picture *is* beautiful. I love the way Syd and Roger are just kind of casually glancing off to the side. It's also terribly, terribly sad. They all look so cheerful, but this would have been about the time that Syd was going completely batshit and becoming impossible to work with. He was surrounded by HORRIBLE people that were taking advantage of him. One of the stories from that time - god I hope it's not true, but it came from somebody who knew him, so it probably is - goes that his flatmates and free-loading shitstain floorcrashers would lock him in a cabinet when he'd have a bad acid trip because they couldn't be bothered to help him. He would pound and pound on the door screaming and when anyone that stopped by would ask about the noise, they'd say "oh, that's just Syd having a bad trip." Fuck me, what kind of a person could DO something like that to someone who was suffering? That makes me so mad I want to hunt down the people who did that and KILL THEM.

Oh God. That is so horrible.

That's not even the worst of it. Syd in those days was definitely an asshole and the drugs were largely to blame for it, but good lord, after reading some of the stuff the assfucks around him would pull, it's no wonder why the guy just completely walked away from the business and never looked back. Why his retirement has become such a mystery baffles me. How many people that got chewed up and spit out in *any* industry don't leave it behind without regret?

It's when you're surrounded by people who basically don't give a crap about you ... it must be such a weird feeling, and really scary if you're not in a good head-space with fame, life, whatever.

It didn't help that he was a couple of years younger than the rest of the guys in the band and by their accounts, a very open and generous, perhaps even a little naive of a person and sadly, was taken advantage of for it. I think people back in those days weren't as cynical about fame as they might be now and therefore not as guarded. The band, the people that were his friends, KNEW what was happening to him. They tried to pull him away from the assholes to save his life. They failed and were left in a position to either cut him loose or sink with him. God, how awful for them, to have to make that choice to hurt a friend.

Hahaha...David Gilmour said in the first days when he was brought in as a replacement, Syd would show up at their gigs and just stand in front of the stage GLARING at him. It made him feel really uncomfortable, to say the least.

I get *fumed* thinking about the people that wrecked him and this is supposed to be my happy place...going back there...going back there...

Breathe ... breathe ....

*Gasp* Trying!

Actually, to get back to the happy place...one of the good things about his passing is that some of his family members are coming out of the woodwork and talking about him and how he lived now that they're no longer obligated to protect his privacy. He was, by their accounts, perfectly happy with hobbies that kept him busy. There's no doubting he went crazy in the late sixties, but he'd actually recovered pretty well. His nephew actually wrote "if I hear the word 'recluse' one more time..." Hahaha. Sorry to burst the bubble on the crazy myths, but he was a painfully normal, boring, bald, middle-aged dude. That makes me smile.

There are worse things than to escape madness and drugs to be a happy, boring, bald middle-aged dude. How many people wish Hendrix, Joplin, and Cobain had done it?

I would have settled for Janis Joplin's retirement from music no matter how it came about. ;)

In the case of Barrett, though, he had this weird mystique and there are a lot of stories about his supposed craziness that just plain aren't true. Like, people just couldn't believe that he left music by choice to live a quiet, peaceful life. They had to make shit up to perpetuate this false legend of Syd Barrett that was just bigger and far more fantastic than the man.

His sister confirmed that he did have Asperger-like symptoms in that he would totally invest his energy into something with a great passion and then just quit. Like Chris Cooper in Adaptation. He woke up one day and said "fuck fish."

I'm thinking of doing a post about some opinions I have that other people think are blasphemy, and the first one on the list?

"Janis Joplin: Eh."

Omigod, I have so many of those myself, Lisa. I'm afraid to even admit some of these things sometimes because people get all upset with me, as though I have said, "I adore drowning puppies and I laugh as I hear their dying gurgles."

Lisa,
I started a thread once here about Joplin and somebody showed up defending her because she "sang with passion" or whatever. I think you retorted by saying her singing sounded like cat sex. Hahaha. So what if she sang with passion? So do some contestants during the beginning of the season on "American Idol." That doesn't mean they don't sound bloody terrible. I hate her voice. If I ever kill somebody while her version of "Summertime" is playing, I shall insist that this contributing factor be used in my defense.

I don't understand why people take this stuff so serious, either. Like their tastes are a matter of fact. I mean, I know I asked people not to trash Syd Barrett or Pink Floyd, but that was in the context of writing about his death. If they did it here, I wouldn't jump down anyone's throat (unless they wrote "I don't care." That bugs me. If you don't care, then what the fuck are you commenting for?)

On the thread on Vodkapundit's site where they mentioned Syd's death, some guy showed up and declared that Pink Floyd sucked. No discussion. Final word. He doesn't like them, and it is therefore written in stone that they categorically, undenyably SUCK. Um, dude, WHATEVER. They've sold like 500 million records worldwide. Somebody thinks they're doing something right.

And then, Emily, of course there was the debacle when you DARED to admit you hated "Imagine" by John Lennon. The repercussions of that blasphemy were felt all the way to the Vatican.

I have a friend who literally cannot get it thru his head that I hate Henry James and it's not just a matter of me not having read "the right" books - or "not getting it". I just hate Henry James. SO WHAT???? But it seems to literally disturb him that I am not in sync with him on this. I enjoy getting into it with him about Henry James just to watch him get all upset.

I'm evil.

Also - it's just TASTE, like you said Emily. That Joplin defender is bizarre - it's like you're suddenly gonna go: "Oh God, you're right. Joplin sings with passion. How could I have missed that?? Everyone is right. I am wrong. Forgive me." It's so weird.

The thing I hated about the Joplin comment was that it was, like your Henry James friend, very condescending in the suggestion that I didn't "get" her style. It's fucking pop music. It doesn't require a deep and long-studied understanding of music to know whether or not you don't like the sound of something. I'd rather listen to fingernails scratching a chalkboard with the blender running and a tape of that crazy guy in overalls who stands on the corner of an intersection and reads from the Bible at the top of his lungs all at the same time than listen to her sing. I don't give a shit about her passion.

I think the "cool" credibility has something to do with it and decades of not questioning rock critics who drool over her beloved memory. I mean, if I said I hate the way Celine Dion sings, would somebody come in here and lecture me about how I don't understand what a well-trained and finely tuned voice she has? No duh. I know she can sing. I just don't happen to like the style of singers that scream at the top of their lungs.

"Divided by Diana, United by Janis: The Story of Lisa and Emily"

I'd forgotten about the cat sex thing! Hahahahaha! I'm brilliant. Back when I hung out at the Black Crowes board, I just happened to mention, in a thread about dead rock stars, that while I thought she was a great entertainer, I didn't think her singing was good. Oh my freakin' Xenu, the flames! The flames! It was very burny.

Nobody better start talking bad about Diana.

Lisa,
I just looked up the old thread. Your exact remarks were "Um, no, she sang from the back of her throat, in a unintelligible, mucus-filled screech that sounded like cat sex."

Hahahaha.

It's here. I love all the people that showed up to lecture me about how wrong I was. It's a fucking OPINION people. If you like Janis, you're not wrong. I'm not ordering everybody in the universe to throw out their records, tapes, CDs and never listen to the woman's music again. I'm just saying I DON'T LIKE IT.

I already did, Marc. Don't read the happy places thread. It might drive you to suicide. I think you should go take down some of the collector plates from your shrine composed of Franklin Mint Diana collectables to console yourself just in case.

I mean, the "sick of them" thread. This IS the happy places thread. Duh.

I am not a follower or fan of Diana, but I am an attorney, which makes me better at logic and being smart than any of you. I have found her statements to be quite relevant and effective. Far more so than those of other dead princesses.

And what excuse will you give when I point out that "marc" and "notmarc" have the same IP address?

I made my same point in that thread that I did on the BC board. Damn. I gotta get some new material.

In my Diana defense, I don't have plates. I have every major magazine that had news coverage of her funeral, and I bought most of the books about her death (in hardback!) including the Paul Burrell one, but I don't have plates. No plates. Or dolls. Or the purple English Rose beanie baby.

So I'm okay, right?

Ah, seems I didn't read deep enough to get to your blasphemy in that thread. Awful. Simply awful. I think we all should take the advice of an uninterested party like notmarc. Now, yes, he may have had the same IP as me, but I work in the internets and know how easy that stuff is to spoof. He probably had to learn to hide his IP from rabid anti-Dianas and just randomly chose one that matches me. It happens.

Lisa,
Hahaha. "I own every book and magazine, have taped every TV special and have special ordered print articles from foreign newspapers which I keep framed in a temperature controlled glass display case, but I never bought the collector doll. I stop just short of crazy, right? RIGHT?!?!"

Marc,
Still the heroin talking....

My happy place.

(As she appeared in To Have and have Not.)

Alan,
Hell YES. I love that picture. God, she was stunning. Still is.

Alan,

I know how to whistle because of her.

In her book, she said her nervousness was making her shake in the "whistle" scene, so they told her to keep her chin down. That created the sultry looking-up-at-you look she became famous for.

So glad to know people with classical tastes... My Happy Place.

My Even Happier Place.

I loves me a good Emily Rant, so if you want to defame the song "Imagine" go right ahead. I will second ahead of time, sight unseen. It's a miserable nihilistic dirge, the sound of somnambulent lemmings slowly marching off a cliff. I'd rather hear the Pickle and Ace sing Rod Stewart's Greatest Hits.

As for Joplin, I was actually more worried that people would complain about the "bald and middle aged" bit than her actual singing. =) Probably a lot of her rep has to do with dying young.

Yet another happy place.

"I'd rather hear the Pickle and Ace sing Rod Stewart's Greatest Hits."

Oh my gawd. I can't stop laughing.

Brian - Ingrid! Love her!

Alan - good one!

Speaking of having to like a singer because of the amount of gruntiness -- excuse me, "passion" -- they put into their screechings...

True story: I was in a car with some people -- friends of friends -- and one of them was a woman somewhat older than I was. The topic of conversation was favorite singers, and she started on about how much she moved Michael Bolton, because "he sings with such emotion." I wanted to die... I sometimes have bowel movements that I invest with a great deal of "emotion," but it never occurred to me to set them to music and sell them to the general public.

Ook. What happened there. That should have been "how much she loved Michael Bolton."

A happy place is where you find a box of snow shoes in the desert.

Aaron, they are also useful for walking on deep sand.

Thanks Ken. Thought so, but wasn't sure (not much soft sand around here to try).

I've never actually seen them used on sand but have heard of it. I've walked on enough soft sand in desert and on beaches to think "yeah, snowshoes would be pretty useful about now."

I looked it up in wikipedia (linked to it after picture). It doesn't say much, but some people say they work better in sand than snow.

I thought the sand would be too soft so the blades wouldn't have anything to grip, the shoes would slip and the edged would sink and get caught undert the sand. I guess not.

I love how a thread that started with a posting of a picture of Pink Floyd has evolved into a discussion of the practical uses for snow shoes. Somehow, it just *fits*.

I suppose it does...