Newscoma

I read that Pop Tunes in Memphis closed their doors this week. If I had known it was coming, I most likely would have set a puptent outside their doors and cried a bit.

You see, Pop Tunes is the place where Big Daddy and I used to shop. He owned jukeboxes before he retired and once a week, he would trek from Hoots to Memphis to pick up the 45s to load them. When I was a kid, Billboard magazine was always at his shop, and he would diligently look for what was going to hit the Top 40. He would make a list of what the thought would trend and then head to Memphis and on some occasions, we would get to go with him. Homer and I were usually allowed to buy a cassette or an 8-Track while the shop owners would go to the back and pull the songs, sometimes dozens of copies to go onto each jukebox.

You may understand my joy and love of a good jukebox now. It’s a part of my history and a good one is always sort of hard to find. I’m not talking a CD/Internet box, but the ones where you can hear the scratches on the vinyl when a song has been played too much because it’s beloved.

I would always go through the records and touch each album cover while I was in Pop Tunes. It got to the point that the store clerks knew my sister and my names, and they always greeted Big Daddy with a smile. He was a regular and they would talk about what songs would be a hit, and which ones wouldn’t. Inside the store, there really wasn’t much to see except swinging fluorescent lights and it was a bit junky, in retrospect. But there was the music, the stories of Elvis and Johnny Cash, the smell of cigarette smoke and cardboard dust, but it didn’t matter. We would look through everything and we loved it. I went years later, and it hadn’t changed much other than the 45s were pretty nonexistent at that point and store clerks were relegated to the parking lot to burn one.

My father still has a Wurlitzer in his house now that he’s retired. Every one of those ancient 45s ready to play once you push the buttons for the song of your choice came from Pop Tunes.

I realize the older I get, I grieve the small things. Pop Tunes was a large part of my childhood with my father.

I will miss it.

[youtube=[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1llNYAlYrc&rel=0]

I think this is my new anthem. Day-um. SQ found it and I cannot quit listening. The damn shame of it all is she heard it in a commercial first.

Gots to say: Anthem for a new, very sad, political generation tired of the crap.

Also, Trent Reznor produced it.

Day-um.

It’s written on the palm of my hands.

10:30 So the gabbing and self-congratulatory hoohaw is over. I’m out. I’m hallucinating. I need an IV drip to take me back into the non-television/virtual world. Peace out, campers. Be sure to check your baggage and I hope you had a good flight.

10:27 I’m out. Thanks10:26 HERBIE HANCOCK wins Album of the year! Whoa, didn’t see that one coming. Joni Mitchell. If you’ve never hear Court And Spark I command you to go hear it right now.

10:25 Thankfully, and believe me I’m thankful. It’s almost over.

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10:05 I’m not up to starting a new post as we enter hour THREE. **sigh** Why are Target commercials moderately cool and Wal-Mart commercials suck so bad that I fight the urge to throw myself into the road? Deep Thoughts from Newscoma.

9:58 Saying goodbye. I liked Robert Goulet. He was fun. Bye folks. I didn’t know Luther Ingram had died. Bad year for Opera with the loss of Luciano and Beverly Sills.

9:50 Twitter is popping on the Grammy talk. And highlights of the night: Vince Gill and Kanye West as well as Amy Winehouse saying “To my Blake who is incarcerated.” The Benedryl is making me hallucinate penguins reading election speeches but I realized I had accidentally turned the channel to CSpan.

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9:00 It’s almost hour three. Hell, why not as I speak to myself . Keely Smith needed to sing on her own campers. Grammy for Rock Album goes to The Foo Fighters. Woot.

8:56 Feist is always fun.

8:55 My mother made me listen to Tapesty by Carole King every day of my life during 3rd and 4th grade. She looks great. EVERY DAY People. Fiest is up.

8:54 I’m distracted by a story I just saw about people born with tails. I can’t help it.

8:50 Here’s a list of who’s one so far. Icky Thump won. Woot.

8:43 There isn’t anything better than cool trumpets.

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First Hour- The wine is poured and I have a cold so at any moment I might explode.

7:56 Just experimenting here and the cold has the best of me. I’ll check in periodically. And why isn’t anyone talking about Rhianna’s Wheat dress? Waiting on Amy Winehouse. I know she’s a hot mess but I think she’s cool. I may move into hour two on a new post. Maybe, maybe not.

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This is very cool.

Now, if you want to know who this is, you have to go here because he’s one of Tennessee’s best and brightest.

Back in the day when MTV helped form my generation and they actually played music videos, I loved the VJ’s. I was a teenager and I felt very connected through music with others. Back then, it felt relevant and edgy.

Man, I loved JJ Jackson.

So, it’s weird to see these interviews with Mark Goodman, Alan Hunter, Nina Blackwood and Martha Quinn on Sirius.

Reliving the youth. Well no, I just miss music on MTV because isn’t that what it’s supposed to be.

Music?

Dear Squirrel Queen,

After a very trying morning where I wanted to seriously throw myself into a hole, I went home with my new present that you gave me.

I downloaded a ton of songs. I’ve gone from Joni Mitchell’s “Court and Spark” to Joan Osborne’s “Mother Theresa”, from the Scissor Sisters “Music is the Victim” to Elvis Costello’s “Pump It Up”. I’ve smiled all afternoon. I even threw in some Buffalo Springfield “What’s It’s Worth” and Bob Dylan “Tangled Up in Blue” in for good measure.

After a really ass rotten day, you made it better.

And “Eleanor Rigby” …. I’m in heaven.

I knew that music always made me smile, but you see, I’d forgotten.

I had forgotten.

I’m shaking my butt right now to Justin Timberlake. (Now, just shut up. He will make you shake your hiney and you know it.)

Thanks, SQ.

You are the best,

Newscoma

Me: “So, you were born under Reagan.”
Her: “Yep.”
Me: “Have you ever heard of Kennedy?”
Her: “I think I read about him in an Ancient History book.”

Ouch!

From Jim Reams over at FBI Memos