Is it racist?

So looks like the Washington Redskins will ultimately have to change their name because Redskins is racist.

Won't this open a whole can of, um, red worms?







 Will Jack Black be able to stay Jack Black even though he's white?

Or will he have to be Jack White, uh oh, there's already one of those in music, Jack White of the Whitestripes.

Will Barry White records now be Barry Black records?




What about James Brown? While technically he was brown, he was still black. But would he need to be James Black, help me now!

And what to do about baseball star Daryl Strawberry? Shouldn't he be Daryl Blackberry?

No because then the phone geeks would be all a Twitter, uh oh. Don't say Twitter, we own it!


 Tom Green where do you stand on all of this? Take a meeting with John Grey and Bobby Blue Bland and get back to me.

Who's your Caucasian?

To earring or not to earring, that is the question.

I was sitting in Noodles and Company in Nashville recently enjoying some Thai something or another, minding my own business. The fellow one booth away was facing me, he was roughly my age, average height and build, nothing really special about him at all.

What caught my eye was that little cross earring on his left ear. He didn't look like a biker, a goth, or even a musician, just a regular guy enjoying his noodles.

In the eighties I too wore an earring, correction, several earrings. I have four piercings, all visible, two on each ear lobe. Somewhere in time I just stopped wearing the earrings for one simple reason, I thought I was too old for such adornment. I felt kinda silly, like I was trying a wee bit too hard to hang on to youth. Youth that will slip away slowly but surely anyway.

And there sat my little ear holes for the next 20ish years, empty, lonely and healing themselves.

A week before Christmas 2012 I went and got new earrings. Little gold crosses.

I wear just one, in my left ear because as I understand it, left is right and right is wrong if you're playing for the hetro team.

There was a lot of self doubt and bickering within myself as to if I should really do this again or not. I mean really is it that big a deal? No, not at all, I really like it. And it doesn't matter if anybody else likes it or not. I wear it for me. Although it did make me laugh when my mom just pointed at it and giggled.

Am I trying to stay young? Hardly, just take a look at those bags under my eyes just three inches from my little gold cross. "Bellman, can I get some help with these bags?" A little gold cross will do NOTHING to halt the aging process and do nothing to keep me young.

I do however have to be more diligent with the ear grooming so as not to have a wayward Donald Trump like hair curling around the cross.

The biggest reason for my little gold cross is what it represents and that is simply faith. No preaching here, I have no room to preach. But I have always been a big fan of the big man upstairs.

There has recently been a major upswing in not only the voice of atheists worldwide but in the perceived "coolness" of declaring yourself atheist. Most atheist will agree that Jesus was a cool dude and perhaps a prophet, but certainly not deity. As Snagglepuss once said, "I beg to differ, I'm a differ begger".   I believe Jesus was exactly who he said he was, The Son of God.

Ask yourself this one question. If we followed what Jesus said, "Love your neighbor as much as you love yourself", what would the world look like? One sentence could change everything.

Nuff said, love to you all.

Did he really get God, Jesus and Snagglepuss into the same blog? Yes he did!

Davy Jones

Say it ain't so, Davy Jones dead?... it can't be... it just can't be.

But it is, the news just cleared the wires. DAVY JONES OF THE MONKEES DEAD OF A HEART ATTACK AT 66.

A huge piece of my and our youth vanishes with the passing of Davy, because the Monkees were the epitome of eternal youth. Silly, disrespectful - in a fun way and full of life.

I was first a Beatles fan, but at 11 years old when the Monkees hit the scene, WOW! It was like the Beatles and the Marx Brothers had a litter of, well...  Monkees. They were funny, they were on every week and the music was good. I wanted my hair as long as Mike's, my Mom said, "Your hair will NEVER be that long".  Never say never Mom, eventually even my Dad's hair was as long as Mike's.


While the Monkees TV series was short lived, two years I think. Their music endured. Just listen to I'm A Believer or Not Your Steppin' Stone... still good pop music. For a treat listen to their a cappella Christmas Song...Riu Chiu...an absolute treat. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_hlYgCNFZc

My love affair with the Monkees continues. I watch their TV show whenever I can and avoid their movie Head like any Monkee fan does. I have, in my bonus room, a Monkees metal lunch box from the 60's and in my office hangs this picture of me and Mr. Jones circa 1988.
 
I had the distinct pleasure of introducing the Monkees on stage at The Greek Theater and The Universal Amphitheater on several occasions while a DeeJay at K-Earth in Los Angeles. And Davy, as well as the rest of the boys were wonderful... well actually Peter can be a bit of a stinker, but hey who cares.

So, farewell Davy Jones and farewell to that piece of my youth that belongs to you. And thank you for the hours and hours of laughter and joy.

Wolfman Jack

This past Monday was the birth date of a great man. A man I admired from the time I was a youngster and still do. A man that I finally had the chance to meet and  work with in 1983. That man was Bob Smith, or more formally Robert Westin Smith.

Bob Smith was born January 21, 1938 in Brooklyn, NY, this past Monday would have been his 70^th birthday, but we lost Bob in 1995 when he was only 57 years old.

Bob Smith has been featured in film, television, recordings and radio. He had legions of fans who had never seen his face but they fell in love with him through the medium that he loved and I might add, loved him as well…radio.

I should probably mention that Bob Smith was better known as Wolfman Jack.

The Wolfman was flat out cool, that voice, the howl and that gritty giggle, what a talent.

I am not ashamed to admit that I am huge Wolfman Jack fan. His part in American Graffiti is somewhat responsible for me getting into radio. The bit with him at the radio station, eating popsicles, as a very young Richard Dreyfuss, as Kurt, comes to make a request is pure magic.

 

In 1983 I was working in Los Angeles for Greater Media which owned H-HITS FM. Greater Media wanted an AM station to sell in combo with then FM so they bought long time AM rocker KRLA. Included in the deal were radio legends The Real Don Steele, Humble Harve, Johnny Hays and Wolfman Freakin’ Jack. Are you kidding me? I’m gonna be working across the glass form The Wolfman?!?!?! WOW!!!

When I met him he had “blossomed”, by that I mean he was about as wide as he was

tall. He was wearing jeans, a black leather vest and a blue jean cowboy hat with a big

giant feather headband. He was as cool as I had hoped and friendly too. I don’t

remember what it was but I said something to him that made him laugh and he actually

laughed the Wolfman laugh, how cool is that?

I never saw him again after I left K-HITS in 1985 but I think of him often and am

so grateful to have had the opportunity to meet him and work with him.

Wolfman Jack…one of a kind, one of the last of a dying breed and flat out cool.

Here are a couple of great Wolfman Jack links:

The Wolfman Jack Online Museum

 Wolfman Jack Radio Program.

What am I Anyway?

What am I anyway? At the outset this seems like an odd and somewhat pathetic question about oneself, doesn’t it? But really what am I, a liberal or a conservative? Am I a Republican or a Democrat, a walking contradiction or just normal? Honestly…I don’t know.

Actually, I’m all over the map and I’ll bet, or ay least I’m hoping a lot of you are too. And not just in politics, this carries over into everyday life as well.

I’ll reveal a few things about myself and let’s see if you can pigeonhole me.

I am absolutely 100% opposed to abortion but I think marijuana should be legal.

 

I voted for Democrat Jimmy Carter, but now don’t care much for him. I voted for Independent Ross Perot, but now don’t even know where he is. I voted for Republican George W. Bush, but now don’t care much for him.

I will not vote for Hilary Clinton, but I hope she wins…just to get the loony left to shut up for four years.

I am a fan of Bill Maher but disagree with almost everything he says. Same goes for Alec Baldwin, Aaron Sorkin and Larry David.

I hate the bad influences and role models of some entertainment but I love the movie Pulp Fiction and one of my favorite Rolling Stones songs is Sympathy for the Devil, go figure.

I love ketchup, spaghetti sauce and salsa but hate tomatoes.

I go to a fairly fundamentalist church, where we believe Jesus Christ is Messiah but there are no crosses in the church, there is a however a menorah and a dove at the alter.

My record collection has several Sinatra albums wedged in between the Archies and Frank Zappa.

Now, you might think I’m being flip or am just trying to get a laugh with some of the items above but I’m not, I’m dead serious with each of these. And this short list doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. This is the contradiction of being me.

So what am I? Democrat? No! Republican? Nope. Some would say Libertarian, but that sounds too much like librarian for my liking plus I don’t know if they all hate tomatoes.

The Busy Travel Season

I spend quite a bit of time traveling and that means quite a bit on time on airplanes and in airports.

Here are some tips to help make your travel and in turn MY travel a much more pleasant experience.

The weather is not the airlines fault. If, while checking in, you are told that your flight is delayed because of weather, no amount of whining, pouting or temper tantrums will change these circumstances. The more you raise your voice, threaten legal action or ask loudly, “Do you know who you are dealing with?”, the more stupid you look. When the weather clears you and the other 200 to 200,000 people who have been inconvenienced will be on their way.

This next guy is usually the same one who was yammering at the check-in counter.

Mr. I like to talk really loud on my cell phone.

 Hey, nobody cares what your 2^nd quarter projections are, where you are eating tonight or who is picking you up in Orlando. Pipe the freak down.

Extra moron points go to the cyborgs who now insist on wearing their cell phones on the side of their heads. Please don’t stand right next to me and ask what time it is, then look at me like I’m a jerk for answering because I didn’t know that you had that space age leach thingy attached  to the other side of your face.

The boarding process is fairly easy to understand; disabled and special needs passengers go first, followed by first class, then club members and after that the rest of us board as part of groups, usually, one through six.

Please tell me how the announcement, “At this time we’ll begin boarding special

needs passengers.”, translates to, “EVERYBODY rush the gate and crowd around

so nobody can get through.”?

If you’re in group three calmly wait to hear the announcement, “Group three may now board”. The plane isn’t going to leave with out you, even though it probably should.

Attention mouth breathers, if you’re going to sleep on the plane please bring some

Tic Tacs. When you fall to sleep and your melon drops to the side your gaping mouth is

only about 10 inches from my face and even closer to my protruding nose.

That stinch coming from your pie hole, as my Dad says, could gag a maggot. If you don’t bring Tic Tacs, I’ll drop one of my own in there….AGAIN! That includes you Princess Perfect who can’t figure out the difference between seat A29 and F26.

Finally, when we get to our destination and we go to pick up our bags, I’ve made mine pretty easy to identify, I put a white hair scrunchy on the handle. Many people do the same thing. There is luggage with big red ribbons, some have blue yarn while others have a yellow bandanas, all to make that bag easy to identify to the owner.

If you didn’t put a ribbon, yarn, bandana or some other identifier on YOUR luggage, one didn’t grow there during the plane trip between Dallas and Charlotte. But there he is, Mr. Cyborg, ear thingy, on the phone, talking too loud, mouth breather, picking up every bag that passes by to read the airline tag. He says to no one in particular, “These darn black bags, they all look the same”.

Yeah, except for the big pink scarf you had to move out of the way to read the tag to see that the bag was not yours.

So, this travel season when you come to the airport bring your manners, an extra helping of patience and for goodness sake DO NOT FORGET THE TIC TACS.

Tis the Season

CAUTION: This edition of Michael On The Air is laced with words and phrases that may insult, hurt or damage you. Some of these words and phrases are so vile and disgusting that the very mention of them might do permanent harm to your psyche causing you to undergo pricey therapy for years to come. So, keep reading at your own risk. There will be no cash payouts for those who do continue to read and are insulted, belittled or degraded beyond what a human being should have to endure.

Merry Christmas!

There…I’ve said it, that vile and disgusting phrase that is causing so much pain and suffering. Yes, we’re back to the Christmas Season and the lunatic fringe is screaming bloody murder, running for their very lives from stores who would actually have the first amendment gall to say, “Merry Christmas” to them. They say it’s the height of offensive behavior to have someone wish them a “Merry Christmas” during this… er… um… well, Christmas Season. And that doing so is SO patently offensive that said establishments should pay…literally, for the pain and suffering caused by this unwarranted and cruel behavior.

Meanwhile, the ACLU is in full attack dog mode, going after anyone who would dare display a Nativity Scene anywhere that the “public” might see it. I’ll paraphrase Dennis Miller here who said that the ACLU will sue every town who would dare display a Nativity Scene BUT will also sue for the “rights” of the local town pervert who wants to have sex with the plastic animals in the Nativity Scene. Right on Dennis!

Pardon me for thinking clearly but it is the Christmas Season, Christmas Day is the traditional celebration of Christ’s birth and if you don’t like it or it is so offensive to you, then be an adult about it, quietly sit it out, put your money where your big mouth is and refuse any and ALL gifts or Christmas bonuses, go to work on Christmas Day and enjoy yourself. But no eating the fruitcake from the company party. 

Last night while driving home I accidentally caught a glimpse of a Nativity Scene and yet, somehow, I lived to tell about it. Believe it or not the horror of seeing the baby Jesus surrounded by his Mom and Pop, the wise men and several plastic and oddly sized animals did not permanently scar me or cause me to drive my car into a tree or take the lives of others.

Bear with us Christmas haters, the well wishes from strangers and friends alike will cease shortly and then you can be happy again. The thoughts of Peace, Joy and Goodwill toward men, will fade as the New Year begins. The stores will replace all the Christmas décor with the displays for the next big moneymaker for them, Valentines Day…or should I say “Saint” Valentines Day…holy guacamole here we go again.

Merry Christmas…God Bless You All…Peace, Joy and Goodwill.