The Newsletter Reloaded

Just so you know, I must admit that everything that has appeared on this page for the past eleven years has been made up make believe. While most of it certainly has not been true, almost all of it has been honest.

Thus it is time to come clean with some confessions/corrections. For example, I've never seen an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don't own any Bob Dylan CDs. Sandra Bullock tends to annoy the crap out of me. I don't have, nor have I ever owned any kitties. I think baseball is dull, and I'd rather buy pretty porcelain figurines than ever lay a hand on a bobblehead. Far from a fan of JD Salinger's writing I instead look at his work as juvenile.

In reality (or at least in this matrix), I am not a 38-year-old Japanese American government worker but instead I'm a 63-year-old Danish pastry maker. I own a poodle named Paramour and a cow named Boo. (Unfortunately Boo has been sick lately. I know you all know what it's like to have a mild case of the flu? Well Boo has a mild case of Mad Cow disease. She's suffering from Sorta Pissed Off Cow disease.)

Those fancy silk ties I've been reputed to wear? Nothing more than clip-ons. I'm heavily into colognes and I'm built like an Italian bricklayer. I much preferred Siskel to Ebert, and my favorite Beatle was Pete.

So for the fistful of readers who have read my crap over the years and felt like you knew me, I apologize. I doubt I'll write much about myself anymore and I've made a promise to my friends to make it up to them and also not write about them anymore as well. More than a few are sick of seeing themselves in these pages.

Thus being reborn this week what follows is what you can come to expect from here on out...

The great Patrick James Steven Reusse has often said he doesn't like fruit that squirts. It's a matter of public record. Let me be the first to say that this is where Mr. Reusse and myself are far, far different. If there is but one thing I live for these days it is my daily dose of grapefruit. Last week some moron wrote in these pages that he knew God existed because he was able to experience the feeling of love. I'm here to say I know God exists because of the existence of grapefruit. There is no better food. It tastes good whether you are hungry or hungover; happy or horny; hapless or hiccupy. It's tangy, it's tart and it's just a delight to eat each and every morning (and sometimes in the wee small hours of the morning).

Besides grapefruit the one other thing I really love it is Suzanne Vega's 1992 CD 99.9 F. In fact my whole life philosophy comes from Ms. Vega's terrific writing on this particular disc.

"Fall in love with a bright idea/And the way a world is revealed to you/Fat man and dancing girl/And most of the show is concealed from view/Monkey in the middle/Deep singing that tune/I don't want to hear it..."

Like many of you I'm sure, I dismissed Ms. Vega when she was first gaining attention, particularly after hearing that most annoying song "Luka." This world doesn't need anymore of those ultra-sensitive folky types and that is what she most definitely came across as. So I was shocked when I listened to the dazzling 99.9F that revealed a woman with a way with words. And believe you me I'm somewhat of a sucker for that.

The disc rocks (well as much as folk can rock) and the words blitz the brain like candy coated shrapnel. Even Ms. Vega's vocals, expression-less as usual aren't precious and soothing but rather mysterious and ominous. So when she sings, "How did one life fall so far and fast?" I know exactly what she means.