The Enemy Chorus

Dear Bartender: I don’t know if you remember me but I was the guy with the plaid shirt who was in your bar either last Thursday or Friday. I was hanging with my friend Sheila who was visiting from Santa Cruz. Does this ring any bells?

I’m writing because you were playing some great music, including this song that I’d never heard before that you told me was some band I’d never heard of. I should have written it down but I didn’t and now I can’t remember what it was.

Help? I don’t suppose you know what I’m talking about.

Dear Friend of Sheila: No, I don’t. But I thank you, nonetheless, for the opportunity to write about the semi- (or completely-) obscure bands I sometimes play at my bar. At some point, someone in one of those bands will Google the name and discover that good old Mitch has been attempting to introduce them to a wider/wilder audience.

Here are a few not-so-well-known songs that are currently in regular rotation at my bar when I’m working:

Allen Clapp: “Something Strange Happens”
Doc White: “Happy With You”
stuntdog: “Real of Anything”
Martha & The Muffins: “Women Around The World At Work”
Quantum Jump: “Starbright Park” and “Love Crossed (Like Vines In Our Eyes)”
Klaus Waldeck: “Jerry Weintraub”
Trio: “Hearts Are Trump”
The Earlies: “No Love In Your Heart”

Glad I could arrange an introduction, FOS.

Knight Time

Dear Bartender: What happened to Peter Brady? Is it possible to be a childhood star and age gracefully?

Dear Reader: The Brady Kids got, I believe, $1,000 an episode. I’m sure it seemed like a great deal at the time. “The Brady Bunch” never made the top 25 in the five seasons it aired; there was no reason to think anyone would give it another thought after it was mercifully canceled in 1974.

And yet… when the show entered after-school syndication it was discovered anew by kids who never saw it on prime time, and it became iconic. The colors. The jokes. The comforting inanity. It was irresistable.

Should you find that you are an actor in a show that posthumously becomes a pop culture phenomenon, there are worse things you can do than bulk up at the gym and pose half naked for a photographer.

Admit it: that $1,000 was spent a long time ago.

Awards Season

Dear Bartender: If you were forced to choose, which would it be: win an Oscar or a Pulitzer?

Dear Person with an Intelligent Question At Last: They’ll give Oscars to just about anyone these days, won’t they? And the Pulitzer comes with a cash prize, I think, while the Oscar just comes with a gift bag they give out to everyone — not just the losers but anyone who bothers to show up.

Still, I gotta go with Oscar. The lighting’s better.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Dear Bartender: Thanks for the drink. My company is putting together a list of holiday songs for their holiday party. I don’t want to be the one who puts “Christmastime is Here” from Charlie Brown and I don’t want to be the one who puts “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” on it either. I’ve trusted your taste in music in the past, so I’m reaching out to you… What are some good, non-run-of-the-mill holiday (doesn’t have to be Christmas, could be New Year’s) songs?

Thanks!

–I Can’t Believe It’s Almost December

Dear December: Christmas music can get oppressive. We have to get creative if we want to make sure everyone’s having a good time. Not every song that works in December is about Christmas, either; there are a lot of great songs out there that are just about winter, or snow, or freezing to death.

I’ve collected a bunch of up- and off-beat Christmas songs over the years. Check out one or two of these:

Dinah Washington, “Make Me A Present Of You”;
Billie Holiday, “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm”;
Benny Goodman, “Winter Weather”;
Peggy Lee, “Happy Holiday”;
James Brown, “Christmas Is Love” or “Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto”;
Betty, “Miracles Can Happen” (featuring lines like “I saw the Virgin Mary at Jenny Craig/She said I’d lost some weight”);
Ella Fitzgerald, “Good Morning Blues” or “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”

Christmas music used to attract serious songwriters, long before “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.” Thank Baby Jesus that Rhino Records brought a lot of it back.

Duke Ellington’s reinvention of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite is also worth checking out. And you’re welcome for the drink.

Teach Your Children

Dear Bartender: I’ve noticed that you seem to know a lot about 20th Century popular music. My Phonics teacher wants us to come up with the tellingest lyrics from every decade of the last 50 years. I’m stuck on the 70s and 80s. Can you help?

Dear Student: Uh, your Phonics teacher? Really? My Phonics teacher wanted me to do colored SRA cards; if she’d wanted me to assess the lyrics of popular music, I surely woulda gotten a better grade. Though at the time I might have been inclined to assess the lyrics to “Thriller” more generously than I will do now.

If you’re stuck on the 70s and 80s, you’ve successfully procured the “tellingest” lyrics from the 60s, 90s, and the aughts. Our readers surely want to know what those are. Please don’t hold out.

Meanwhile, I’ve long since thought the most telling lyric of the 70s was from David Bowie’s “Station to Station”: It’s not the side effects of the cocaine/I’m thinking that it must be love.

As far as the 80s go, it’s hard to beat Duran Duran’s: Don’t say you’re easy on me/You’re about as easy as a nuclear war.

If you’re currently studying Phonics, you probably don’t know who either David Bowie or Duran Duran is. No tragedy on the latter; but as far as the former is concerned, honey, you’re missing out.

Tag, you’re it.

Dear Bartender: Do you fix a person’s tag that is standing up outside the shirt, dress, sweater, or whatever? I realize there are shades to this question: Where are you, how well do you know the person…

Do we need to create a chart of some sort? And if so, how do we get the word out to the people and enforce our findings?

Dear Tag: There’s an easy way to eliminate this problem entirely: Make it fashionable to have your tag sticking out. Kinda like having your collar up in the ’80s. It doesn’t have to be fashionable for long, just long enough so that, down the road, when you see someone’s tag sticking out, you can assume he’s being retro.

Cocktail

Dear Bartender: I was musing today about movie slogans that are “so bad they’re good”, and I decided you in particular might be interested in my favorite. It’s from the Tom Cruise movie “Cocktail”: “When he pours, he reigns.” Can you think of a better (that is, worse) one?

Dear Tom Cruise Fan: No.

On the House

Dear Readers: Please allow me again to ponder the search engine terms you all are using to find this site:

ANDERSON COOPER, WHEEZING SOUND
ETHAN HAWKE DATING FORMER NANNY
ANAL SEX JOE WALSH ROCKY MOUNTAIN WAY
VANNA HUSBAND
“ALL IN THE FAMILY” NAKED
ANDERSON COOPER BARE FEET
FED EX GUY’S LEGS
DO YOU LIKE BEING A FURNITURE SALESMAN
“WHAT TO WEAR” FUNDRAISING DINNER
COORS LIGHT SCARY THING
SUGGESTIONS FOR HILLARY CLINTON CAMPAIGN
SEXY MOTHER DRINKING LIQUOR

Now turn to the person on your left and ask her the question burning in your brain.

Do It All Night

Dear Bartender: I was recently on iTunes looking at Prince’s albums. I had never heard anything from Dirty Mind and I saw that it was popular. I ran across this puzzling sentence:

“Where other pop musicians suggested sex in lewd double-entendres, Prince left nothing to hide — before its release, no other rock or funk record was ever quite as explicit as Dirty Mind, with its gleeful tales of oral sex, threesomes, and even i****t.”

What the fuck is “i****t”? I used to pride myself on my prurience, but I’m stumped as to what that word could be. Does this mean that I can’t complete obscene crossword puzzles?

Dear Prurient: This is similar to the question faced by the protagonist in Nabakov’s “Pale Fire” who got slipped a note — “You’ve got hal*****s real bad” — and pitied the writer for not knowing how many letters should be considered missing from the word “hallucinations.”

Clearly this reviewer has no idea how many letters should be considered missing from the word “infotainment.”

Orange Was The Color Of Her Dress, Then Blue Silk

Dear Bartender: I recently started dating this guy who’s all into jazz music while I am purely a pop/rock music fan. I am, however, so into him when he’s passionately discussing or listening to his favorites, but I always feel like I don’t have anything inspirational to offer in that moment. The closest thing to jazz on my iPod is Norah Jones and she doesn’t sound like the stuff he loves. You must be an expert on all music since you hang out at a bar all day. Can you recommend some good jazz that I can use to impress him with?

— Jazzed & Confused

Dear Jazzed: As luck would have it, you’ve asked a jazz fan. I don’t play any jazz at my bar — frankly, people are weirded out enough by what I play — but jazz is my first love and there’s plenty on my iPod.

Your new friend is bound to have strong opinions about what he likes. Your job is not to like what he likes — but convincingly to defend what YOU like.

Tell him that you will listen to nothing but Charles Mingus. You’ll tolerate no one else. If he tries to sell you on Thelonius Monk — start screaming. Break things if necessary. Tell him you’ll kill yourself if he ever mentions another artist ever again.

He’ll believe you’re a jazz fan.

Martini Talk

Dear Bartender: When did it come into fashion for a martini to be “dry”?

Dear Drinker: When the end of Prohibition meant that people didn’t have to cover up the taste of their own homemade gin.

On The House

Dear Readers: Someone at my bar asked me the other day if I remembered the ad campaign for “That’s Salada Tea” — and the ingenious homonym that made it so memorable.

Someone else added “It’s Nut ‘n’ Honey.” Another stroke of marketing genius.

But when I vividly described my memory of Carroll O’Connor and Jean Stapleton in their respective Bunker characters doing a spot for Worcestershire sauce, everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Here’s how it went:

Archie (New York accent): Whatsh dis here sauce?
Edith: Yes.
Archie: No, what’s it called?
Edith: You just said it.
Archie: I said Whatsch dis here sauce?
Edith: Yes!

Uh… Readers, tell me: Did I make this up?

Happy 1987, Everyone!

Dear Bartender: I took Slynne’s advice and brought Mary Anne Mobley a rather large, black, latex sex toy as a hostess gift when I attended her intimate potluck supper the other evening.

But I have reason to believe that the tag on my hostess gift got mixed up with one of the other guests — as in her thank you note, Mary Anne wrote that she and Gary enjoyed meeting me and appreciated my thoughtful gift, although she caught Gary with it later that night, and that unfortunately he choked on it! When I called after getting her note to see how he was doing, she said he was fine, but some of the nuts from my Stuckey’s Pecan Log that I brought got lodged under Gary’s partial plate, causing him to choke, and necessitating a trip to the dentist. I am not sure who got credit for my gift (although I learned through the grapevine that at the last minute, Mary Anne switched place cards so that Sherman Hemsley was on her left!!!). (Question #1) Do you think I should set the record straight? After all, I don’t want the Mobley-Collins’ to think I would be so frugal as to bring a simple Stuckey’s Pecan Log as a hostess gift to their swanky potluck supper. (Note to Mitch — if you think this question is more appropriate for Miss Manners, would you be so kind as to forward it?)

By the way, it was a lovely evening, even though Gary had on way too much cologne (who knew they still sold Jovan’s Musk for Men??). And Mary Anne is a lovely hostess and a true lady (although after her fourth melonball colada, she told the funniest story about Arlene Francis passing gas on the set of “What’s My Line” almost sending Kitty Carlisle to the hospital — but it seems I may be straying from my additional questions). I must have made a favorable impression as I did get invited to Vickki Lawrence’s (Vickki!) condo for Thanksgiving. (Questions # 2, 3, 4) I think I am going to play it safe with the hostess gift this time and bring Vickki (Vickki!) wine — so with turkey — red or white? And also — Mitchell, don’t you think I need some younger celebrity friends? And you STILL have no way to contact Anderson Cooper?

I am eagerly awaiting your reply as Thanksgiving is fast approaching…

Your Friend,
Jay

Shit, I really gotta start checkig my inbox more often.

Jay: Hope your holidays were great, uh, not just your Thanksgiving but your New Year’s, too. Do you have any plans yet for MLK Day?

I’m real embarrassed to be answering this so late, but here goes: Don’t bother setting the record straight. Don’t judge your friends by their ages. Anderson won’t return my phone calls. White or red is fine with turkey; it all depends on which part of the bird you happen to like.

Happy Holidays!

Se n’est pas si bon

Dear Bartender: “She’s a maniac, maniac/On the floor/And she dances like she’s never danced before.”

All these years later and I still don’t understand: She dances like she’s never danced before. How is that a good thing? I mean, she has absolutely no experience as a dancer. And we’re supposed to watch this whole movie about her dancing? I’m guessing that this probably should have stopped bugging me by now, but it hasn’t.

— Shit out of luck

Dear Shit: You think you got troubles? I’ve got “Cherchez la Femme” stuck in my head.

!Aaah-ah, yawa em ekat ot gnimoc er’yehT

Dear Bartender: I need a list of the worst party songs ever. Long story why, but I need bad music that drives everyone nuts. Short of a CD of ostrich screams, where do I begin?

Dear Party Host: This could be fun. I have lots of suggestions, but some of these songs may be hard to find. (Why would that be? I have no idea.)

1. Rupert Hine, “Another Stranger”; 2. Godley and Créme, “I Pity Inanimate Objects”; 3. Art of Noise, “Opus 4”; 4. The Normal, “Warm Leatherette”; 5. The Rolling Stones, “Gomper”; 6. Smart E’s, “Sesame’s Treet”; 7. Ghost to Falco, “A Relatively Useless Decay Theory”; 8. The Beatles, “Revolution 9” and 9. (if you can find it) the flip side to the ’45 of “They’re Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!” by Napoleon XIV (the title of which I do not have the energy to spell out here).

With this playlist I can guarantee the worst party ever.

Then again, when you say “bad” maybe you’re thinking more along the lines of Alan O’Day singing “Undercover Angel.”

Full Moon

Dear Bartender: What is going on in Hollywood!!!

Watching Good Morning America this morning, they were discussing that new movie “The Last King of Scotland.” Now I must admit, I wasn’t paying close attention, but I don’t care WHAT Diane Sawyer says, not even a bouffant wig and a well-fitted, sequined Escada caftan is going to turn Forest Whitaker into Eydie Gorme. I recently saw Eydie in the Loehmann’s dressing room and even though she looked like she was retaining water she is still a bit slimmer than Forest… Delta Burke, I’d believe, or the nice lady who played the mother on “The Nanny” who was also on “TallteTales” with her husband before Bert Convey died — but Forest???

And since when was Eydie made a King of Scotland?? And where does Steve Lawrence fit into all of this??? And you should see me doing my water aerobics at the senior center to Eydie singing “Blame It On The Bossa Nova” — it is a sight to see!!

Anyway, if you could clear this up, I would be so appreciative.

— Delores, Staten Island

OK Whoever can make sense out of this gets some kind of prize.

The Piña Colada Song

Dear Bartender: I’d like a date by New Year’s, but how’s a chick in her late thirties to meet someone over the winter holidays, when people tend to be frantic and overeggnogged? Got any great lines for fellows in airports, or at the post office?

— to market, to market

Dear Market: Are you frantic and overeggnogged? No? Then why are you assuming everyone else is?

The line you’re looking for: “I’m not much into health food; I am into champagne.”

If the 70’s showed us anything, it’s that true love follows any expression of raw desperation.

On The House

Once again, I wanted to share some of the search terms people out there are using to find this site:

GAY HUSBAND LISTERINE
WOMEN GETTING MILITARY HAIRCUTS
ALCOHOLIC DRINKS TO MAKE YOU SICK
SEXY GROPES
GAY PROSTITUTES FOR HUSBANDS
CAN YOU SUE YOUR BOSS FOR YELLING AT YOU
T
ANDERSON COOPER IN A HOUSEDRESS CNN + SAMMY DAVIS JR
NAVY BLUE VELVET SLACKS FOR MEN
LOVING BARTENDERS AND WHY THEY ARE WRONG
BARTENDER PUTTING COCAINE IN DRINKS

Just in case any of you were looking at the person next to you and wondering what might be a good conversation opener.

Also Starring Bea Arthur & Jefferson Starship

Dear Bartender: We all have so much to be thankful for. I am curious as to what is it you, and your readers, are most thankful for this year?

— Most Curious

Dear Curious: It’s an interesting question. I can’t answer for our readers. But I was excited today to find out that the Pyramid Club in NYC is showing the “Star Wars Holiday Special” from 1978. I haven’t seen it since the one time they showed it on TV. George Lucas has been quoted: “If I had the time and a sledgehammer, i would track down every copy of that show and smash it.”

So I guess I’ll start us off by saying that I’m thankful George Lucas doesn’t have a sledgehammer.

Secret Santa

Dear Bartender: I have recently come into quite a tidy little sum of money (Angela Lansbury was so grateful after I pointed out a suspicious mole on her back while doing some routine “personal grooming” work that she tipped me REALLY big). As you and your readers have been so kind in accepting me into the “group” (or the “Island Of Misfit Toys” as Mother has begun referring to us), I wanted to surprise everyone with a little Holiday gift. Do you have any suggestions as to what some of the regular participants might like or need? Now I already have something for you (hint: think something like Summer Sausage from Hickory Farms) and I want to deliver yours in person. Am I correct in assuming that when I show up, if things at the bar are busy, you’d accept a delivery in the rear?

Please advise soon, as there are not many shopping days left until Christmas.

Your Friend,

Jay

Dear Jay: Alas, there’s no rear entrance at my bar — at least not one that I’ve noticed. But no matter — what I’d like most for Christmas is for someone to tell me why this picture is funny. I feel so left out that I don’t get it. Who’s gonna explain it — preferably in graphic detail?