When guns are outlawed, only the outlaws will
have guns. Will travel? Ask Cory Feldman, man.
I don’t know the answer to that question or
any other, unless you ask me useless
bits o’ trivia, like: Who wrote Johnny B.
Goode? The answer is complicated. First, there
was Chuck Berry, but young Marty McFly went
back to the past, back to 1955
before the song was written and (like a fool)
played the song at the Fish Under the Sea dance
where his parents kissed for the first time and … what?
It’s Enchantment? … It is? Really? It wasn’t
Fish? Oh that’s right. It was Enchantment. Duh. I
got confused for a moment. Anyway, Mc-
Fly goes back in time and rocks the hell out of
the high school gymnasium after his old
man George shoves away that punk redheaded kid
who was in Can’t Buy Me Love with McDreamy.
Or was that McSteamy? One of those is right.
I never watched Gray’s Anatomy. Sorry.
Mea Culpa. One more time, back to McFry
and his time-altering shenanigans. The
biggest folley in the first film is … a white
kid made the electric blues? I don’t think so.
What’s another word for malarkey? Berry
was the one made that sound so popular. Sure,
there was Elmore and Muddy and B.B. and
insert electric blues man here, but Chuck is
the one all o’ the white kids robbed. Go ask Paul
McCartney, Brian Wilson or Keith Richards.
John Lennon once wrote a song called … I’d tell you
the title, but if I did you would likely
crucify me. Oh, the way things are going.
No one is listening. No one sees this. So?
If I wrote for an audience there would be
pressure … pressure made me flutter in the wind
or at least it did, once. Think of Rodrick Rhodes
missing two free throws for Kentucky back in
the S.E.C. tournament in the nineties.
That was me “Duh … duh … oops!” I just didn’t know
how to act. It ate me up inside like a
spreading virus or growing tumor, bent and
twisted and shadowy with blurred, wavy lines.
Then one day I heard the song Shimmy Shimmy
Ya. You know the one. It’s Old Dirty Bastard.
He ends his verses with the phrase, “Jump on stage and
then I dip down.” Me? I say, “Then I duh duh.”
Is that all right now, Mr. Jones? Right on, man.
It’s like hearing a voice speaking Italian
when you’re on vacation from Rome in Rio.
I’m an idiot too. We’re on the same page.
Any-who, there’s this singer chick who used to
not know what to do if she made a mistake.
You could read the shame and fear on her face when
she missed a note or seven on her guitar.
Someone really must have mixed her medicine,
eh? Bueno. All right .. how to end this? Ummm…
Pink Floyd has a song that goes “Isn’t this where…