Listen to the Old Grey Wolf

Today during E-News, Corby told of the death of noted makeup artist Dick Smith.  He was indeed accomplished (Godfather, Exorcist, Marathon Man, Taxi Driver, Little Big Man, dozens of others).  Suddenly, Mike jumped in -- "and Dick Wagner died today."

My jaw dropped.  Literally?  Yes.  I didn't drive off the road or scream at the radio, but it gave me a start and made me sad.

Neither Corby nor, apparently, Danny had ever heard of him.  Surprise.  Actually, it is a bit surprising.  Dick Wagner was a man.  It took Mike, finally, to clue them in:  "Dick Wagner played guitar for Lou Reed."

Did he ever.  And Alice Cooper, a lot.  And KISS, and Peter Gabriel, and Hall & Oates, and others.

But yeah.  Lou Reed.  When you think of guitar intros to great songs, you think of  Slash on "Welcome to the Jungle," Eddie on "Eruption," Elliott Randall on "Reelin' in the Years"  -- you can think of many others.  But the theme song of my late 70's and early 80's was a tuneful guitar tour de force that is, to my mind, the greatest instrumental lead-in to a rock-and-roll song ever (take that, exaggerating Corby!), an anthemic dual-axe attack by Wagner and Steve Hunter, arranged by Wagner, that builds and builds to Reed's entry on stage and launch into "Sweet Jane" on the 1974 live album "Rock 'n' Roll Animal."  Wagner and Hunter traded memorable leads and fills throughout the album -- just great, great guitar stuff.  It ain't Buckethead or Satriani or Malmsteen, but it's fundamental, musical, phlegm-clearing, played-on-the-beat, fuzzed, biting rock and roll gitar.

Of the sort -- concededly -- that collegiate and post-grad males air-guitared to in the Seventies and Eighties.

Wagner and Hunter went on to play with Alice Cooper, and Wagner was associated with Alice for quite some time, co-writing and performing on many of his notable tunes.

As usual, Corby and Danny ridiculed Mike into silence, so you didn't get to hear any more about Dick Wagner.  Mike actually played along, noting that it was one of those rare "Double Dick" death days.

Turn this up.  No, that's not enough, I said turn it UP:  

Your ears don't hurt?  Well, then you weren't listening when I told you to turn it the f--- UP :

"One fine morning she puts on a New York station and she couldn't beLEEVE what she heard at all."

Dick Wagner, RIP.

Pan-American Keith Endorsement Fail

The Ticket is indeed everywhere.

I'm jogging the boardwalk at Mission Beach in San Diego.  I'm doing the Ticket Demo Middle-Aged Male Shuffle-Jog, so everyone is passing me.  The good news is that you get to see the handsome backsides of SoCal Trophy Wives and Hopeful To-Be Trophy Wives receding gradually into the middle distance.

And with all the natural beauty of the Ocean Pacific to the left of me, what to my wondering eyes does appear, but evidence of the impressive geographical spread of Ticket Greatness:

You can't read it in the snap, but it also says in the upper right, "FISH TACO -- Best in the world."  What could be better?  The beach, the salt spray, MILF, and the world's best fish tacos -- served up in Muserrific fashion. 

There's even an arrow to point out how to find it off the boardwalk there.  I'll just follow that arrow and  .  .  .  oh.

Away More

I'm out of town again, Confessors.  Will try to check comments.

Also:  Comment moderation and Blogger sign-in is giving me major fits.  If you don't see your comment it doesn't necessarily mean I've rejected it.  Now, for example, it's not letting me read the entire comment in the "comments awaiting moderation" list.

I will be back early next week.  In the meantime, I will indeed be holding on to my butt because I have confidence in Gypo JD, who is probably not the same guy as Gypo Nolan, but is some other Gypo who thinks he or she knows something, and probably does, although whether the news is material will have to await the event.

ALERT ALERT ALERT:  If you or anyone you know would like to work with me to develop a non-Blogger website for My Ticket Confession, please drop me an email at ThePlainsman1310@gmail.com.  I'm not looking for freebies -- I will pay the going rate for website design and development services.  If I tried to do it myself it would end up looking like Pong.

See you next week.

Johnny Winter, RIP

It's not sportsy or Tickety, but it means something to me.  A moment of silence for Beaumont's own Johnny Winter, dead at 70.

Frail in recent years, he was one of my first guitar-hero crushes.  When someone put "Johnny Winter And -- Live" on the Dual turntable back in the vinyl days during a post-dinner college bridge game and those blazing, pure lines shot through that Marantz amp and JBL speakers, I was done for.  Never heard anything like it.  "Mean Town Blues," "Highway 61 Revisited," and his many incendiary versions of "Johnny B. Goode" -- sneer at traditional blues-rock if you must, but that was exciting music when it came out and it still bites.  Saw him once in Chicago, slinging that Gibson Firebird, crushing "Jumpin' Jack Flash."

At least once a day since, a phrase from one of his legendary solos from B.B. King's "It's My Own Fault" takes a swim through my head.

Just for me, raise a glass to Johnny sometime today.

Where's Conrad?

It doesn't have the same ring to it as "Where's Greggo?" but I'm curious nonetheless.

Did he finally weary of reading all of that smirking promo/liner copy with the centuries-old gags?  I actually had on my stale list of articles to write that Conrad had the hardest job at The Ticket.

Who's the new guy (if he is a new guy, and not just filling in for Conrad on sabbatical)?

I'm still scrambling out here on the plains on post-vacay catch-up, but trying to re-immerse myself in The Fabulousness That Is The Ticket.

I did have to chortle at one of the comments while I was gone.  I didn't get to hear any radio last week so can't comment on T.C. Fleming's fill-in date for Gordon, but one Confessor remarked that Craig seemed beaten down by the whole thing.  I would love to have heard that.  Da Joonz has a way of letting you know his feelings about someone in a very subtle way.  I remember this particularly with the The Great Peter Gammons Experiment.  If you had just seen a transcript of those interviews, you wouldn't have thought anything amiss, but there was something about the sound of Craig's voice that said why do we need to be talking to this guy about Texas stuff, especially since half the time Gammons was on his treadmill or hiking the Urals or something while supposedly devoting his attention to the interview.  Always a fun listen.

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Away

Mrs. Plainsman and I will be out of the country for the next week.  I'm not sure what kind of access I will have to the Internets but I believe I should be able to moderate comments to ensure their moderation.

So, is comment moderation a success, or not?  It certainly has cut down on the number of comments.  I'll continue it for awhile, see what happens, or doesn't.  In case you're wondering, I've only declined to publish one, for name-calling.

Got a thing or two to cover with you all when I return, and if I get a chance I'll post from afar.

In the meantime, a quick hit or two on drydock:

(1) I haven't minded the soccer talk at all.  I watched some of some of the games, including once in the company of a guy who was a high school soccer star hereabouts and went to college on a soccer scholarship.  I can see why people can get hooked on the game, but my exposure to the game to date (including a couple of FC Dallas games live) hasn't engaged me.  I had the odd and probably wrong feeling that the game seemed, of all things, slow.  And this coming from someone who finds baseball fascinating to watch.   Baseball and football at least have the potential for explosiveness and drama in every pitch, every snap.  Soccer just seems too  .  .  .  hard.  Probably why I don't enjoy watching golf much, either.  I don't mind the lack of scoring, but it appears too random somehow.  Although the fact that some teams are perennially great suggests that it is not, at all.  Just looks that way while waiting for some action in front of the net.

But if the country embraces it, if The Ticket talks about it, it's OK with me.  I'm nothing if not educable.

(2) Will soccer experience a hockey-stick-graph increase in popularity as a result of the World Cup?  No more than ice hockey does after the Stanley Cup.  Or before.   Remember all the hoo-hah after the women's team did so well and developed some stars awhile back?   Maybe a blip, maybe even a permanent blip, but not much.

No flopping.

(3) I've liked all the drydock pairings I've heard.  Shake Joint, Norm and Doocy, other teams.  I even liked Rhadigan and Followill.  One name I didn't hear as a participant at any level in any of the shows was T.C.  Did he produce or run the board on anything, or did he co-host?

The JV joshing is also fresher than it has been in recent years, with the addition of Justin Montemayor, Logan Gourley, David Mino, others.   Is it cruel sometimes?  I dunno; I haven't gotten the feeling of bullying so far.

See you in a week or so, maybe sooner.

In the meantime, watch those comments.

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ThePlainsman1310@gmail.com

@Plainsman1310

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Go USA

VIDEO:  What Should We Call the Belgians?

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ThePlainsman1310@gmail

@Plainsman1310

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