Let's get the band back together.....

I played the drums in my first band when I was in 7^th grade.  We called ourselves The Teabaggers (which referred to a “social type” who wore penny loafers and bleeding Madras shirts.)  That band was short lived and never had a paying gig.  However we soon reinvented ourselves into The Changin’ Tyde and got serious about our musical ambitions. (Note: Adding the Olde English “Y” to any name increased the cool factor.)  Our first paying gig was at a “teen dance” in the basement of a church. The big payday at the end of the night was $15 (split between the three of us) and thus began the rapid ascent of our “professional” music careers.  We astutely ascertained that to land the high paying gigs (i.e. more than $15) we needed a lead singer as well as “uniforms”, which in our case included white Levi’s with penny loafers, a puffy sleeved white satin shirt and a vest. 

Note: Special thanks to our “roadie” parents for driving us (and all of our gear) to the gig an hour away – then waiting until it was over for the load out.

With each new band line up came a new, exciting (and thought provoking) moniker. By the time we were in high school the British Invasion was in full force and bands, with increasingly cool names were proliferating.  Our band became The Sleepless Nyte (again with the “Y”) and with our Farfisa wielding keyboard player, we could impress our school gym audience with a 20-minute version of Light My Fire.

W soon hooked up with some quality talent from another high school and with this new band came the new name The Audience. (Clever, eh?) It was purported by one former band member that for a day or two we called ourselves The InSex, which I now find incredibly creative.  

As (garage) bands multiplied, band names became more creative and went from the ridiculous to the sublime.  (The band called Sublime would be ridiculous, not sublime.)  Considering band names from A to Z, as with all musical things of the 60’s, we must start with the Beatles,  (cool name, cool guys and cool songs, inspired by Buddy Holly's band, The Crickets) and end with The Zombies (way ahead of their “Walking Dead” time.) After that we can start breaking down band names into categories:  Animals, (like The Animals or Critters), food groups (like Cream or Meat Loaf), psychedelic names (like Strawberry Alarm Clock or Electric Prunes) and end with a category called “Seriously?”  (e.g. Spooky Tooth, Mott the Hoople, Lothar and the Hand People and Ultimate Spinach, just to name a few.)

More recently, we might consider adding a category of band name “fails.”  (I often avoid listening to bands based on their name, which is unfair.) I nominate the following (which are either too “Emo”, stupid or both):

System of a Down
Toad the Wet Sprocket
Goo Goo Dolls
Planes Mistaken For Stars

The old curmudgeon in me might say; “We didn’t have no stinkin’ Internet band names generators back in our day.  We made up these lame band names on our own!” Now you can now use band name generators to come up with your own random and nonsensical band name.  Let’s try a metal band name.  (Always good to start with "Iron," (e.g. Iron Butterfly, Iron Maiden.)

One click yielded the following results:

Vanilla Iron (which makes it a very wimpy metal band alluding to Vanilla Ice or Fudge.)

Optimistic Iron (I really think that we can make it as a metal band.)
 Wiggle of Iron  (an introduction to metal music for preschoolers.)

  

This bluegrass band name generator is a great recipe for a creating a fast pickin’, bluegrass band.  Just add a banjo, fiddle, mandolin and some high, lonesome harmonies.

Try it for yourself:

• Column A                       Column B          Column C
• Foggy                               Mountain             Ramblers
• Smoky                              Valley                  Boys
• Lost                                  Trail                     Riders
• Rocky                               Bottom                Rangers
• Lonesome                         Creek                  Rovers

Yee haw!

Often time’s band names seem to spring from “brainstorming” (possibly including drugs and alcohol.)

How about a category for “complete sentence band names”? 

Here’s my favorite:  Say Hi to Your Mom.  (homage to yo’ mama jokes) 

Or band names with run together words like Highasakite or Boysetfire. (isyourspacebarbroken?)

Or single food names like Korn and Bread  (not so good by themselves but as a double bill, pretty tasty!)

If we want to be very “modern” we could suggest a category called “auto-correct band names.”This started out as an auto-correct text and then after repeating became what was initially thought to be a good band name, Dandelion Sex Fluids. However, it seemed the more you heard it, the more you hated it.  (Like hearing James Blunt’s overplayed song, “Beautiful.”)

I’ll leave you with some band names that I wish that I had thought up (and copyrighted):

The Burning Sensations (Fraught with connotations, both good and bad.)

The Little Green Men (Band from the 50’s who capitalized on UFO mania.)

Tenacious D (Damn you Jack Black!)

Hostile Comb-over (This name screams Donald Trump!)

Furious George (Boy George in a yellow hat with his angry pet monkey)

Abracadaver (Harry Potter meets the Grateful Dead)

Gringo Starr (Salsa music, Beatle style)

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes  (It’s just fun to say.)

As Shirley, Shirley, Bo Birley, Banana Fanna Fo Firley once said, 

“It’s the Name Game!”

Read this with your "mourning" coffee..

Ok, first I’ll hit the drive-thru at Starbucks and pick up my coffee. Then I’ll drive-thru McDonald's and pick up my Egg McMuffin.  Since the bank lobby is not open yet, I’ll make a quick stop at the bank drive up ATM and get some cash.  While I’m at it, I’ll drop off my dry cleaning at the drive-thru cleaners and then pick up my prescription at the Rite Aid drive-thru. I saw on Facebook that Joe’s grandmother died so as long as I’m out doing errands, I’ll go to the funeral home and use the drive-thru window to pay my respects. 

Drive-thru funeral home viewing?!  Yes, you heard it right. Here’s how it works. When you drive up, the curtain opens and the angled casket becomes visible.  You can then sign the retractable guest book and insert a card or other condolence. Then you can attend the funeral service at the drive-in church, where you can park and tune in your radio and hear the service. 

As James Taylor put it so aptly in his song “Traffic Jam”:

“just strap me in behind the wheel

and bury me with my automobile.”

Many commuters, from NYC to Boston to L.A. spend so many hours of their life in their cars that when added up can be measured in days, weeks and months.   The problem is that in trying to make the time in the car more productive they become increasingly distracted from the task of driving.   Though we all thought there would be flying cars or at least monorails that would diminish our commuting time, it seems that the big auto makers have made sure that we are married to the internal combustion engine vehicle to get us from point A to point B.  Maybe the best we can hope for is the “Google” auto drive car with a built in iPhone with Siri to respond our commands.  

As a teenager, I worked as a “carhop” (a what?!) at the local Stewart's Root Beer stand.  Cars would pull up and I would go out and take their orders for hamburgers, fries, shakes and root beer floats.  The customers would wait in their cars until I brought out the tray and carefully placed it on the partially rolled down window.  Around this time, power windows became all the rage and caused a few major spills of food and drinks into the driver’s lap.  (I was guilty as charged on at least one occasion.) Our 1950’s carhop predecessors used to do this on roller skates!  

With the convenience of drive-thru windows and our propensity for instant gratification, we are only limited to our imaginations for ways to avoid exiting our cars. Consider this idea (not legal in all states):  The drive-thru liquor store.  Isn’t that a sensible idea?  You can drive to the store sober and be drunk by the time you return home without getting out of your pickup truck.  Louisiana actually has drive up bars (called Daiquiri Planet) where you can order a Red Bull and vodka Daiquiri from the drive up window. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere and Happy Hour at the drive-thru bar!  (Please drive carefully and drink responsibly.)

Given the convenience of drive-thru cocktails, it is no great leap to discover the drive- thru Strip clubs that offer shows through a peephole as well as drive-thru sex shops for your brown bag purchases. (Keep both hands on the wheel and no idling please!)

Now who has time to wait in the E.R. when a health emergency arises?  Someone came up with the idea of  an urgent care drive up window. If you want to find out whether you are having a heart attack or if your arm has just fallen asleep from hanging out the window of the car all day doing errands, just drive up and the doctor will see you now.  The following dialogue might ensue:

“Please put your arm in the sleeve and we’ll check your blood pressure.   On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your pain level? We will now go online to WebMD and check your symptoms for a diagnosis.  Please pull up to the next window and you can pay and pick up your prescription.”  

How about taking the quickie, wedding trip to Vegas to a new level?  The “Say I Do- Drive-thru Wedding Chapel” will do the trick. Get married and start a family right in the comfy confines of your Smart Car.  

With TV lawyers hawking their services in ads starring themselves, it is no surprise that we now have drive-thru legal offices.  Don’t wait after you’ve been arrested on the way home from the drive-thru cocktail lounge.  Drive right to the drive-thru at “Payne & Suffrin” law office and get some legal advice.  “What, they didn’t tell you should not drink it until you got home?! I think we’ve got a case.”

So if you’re behind me in the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru, give me a wave and I’ll pay for your coffee. (You’ll know it’s me by my “Tom Hanks for President” bumper sticker.)

Steve E. Reno. 

I hate to "Bud" in.....but WASSSUP!

If I had a dollar for every Budweiser can I’ve picked up that’s been discarded into the environment, I’d be rich enough to buy a team of Clydesdales or buy a 30 second ad during the Super Bowl. 

If you asked me (go ahead, ask me, I dare you) to identify one reason that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket, I’d simply say; “Budweiser.”

Now why am I demonizing Budweiser, which is a ridiculously popular part of life in America, as we know it?

(Bud Light has a 19.7 % share of the beer market.) What could possibly more American than the picture of the dude coming out of the convenience store carrying his 24 pak of Bud Light cans? 

I am often espousing this “truth” to anyone that will listen. My theory is that anywhere in the world, from the most remote to the most densely populated areas, if you look hard enough you’ll stumble across an empty, crushed Budweiser can. (Bud bottles are a slightly less plentiful perhaps because they are a little less portable and tend to shatter when thrown on the ground by the inebriated drinker.)

When Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, do you know what he found? An empty Bud can in one of the lunar craters!  “That’s one small step for man….one more goddamned empty beer can!” Now that’s an exaggerated rewrite of history but if  “man” does establish any kind of habitat on the moon or any other planet, I’m confident that my prognostication may come true.  

 

I used to walk my dog in the local cemetery and it was a daily ritual of picking up the empty beer cans.  Granted, even though they were “Light”, (or less filling), it gave me no particular satisfaction.  I’m sure that the “dead” were not “grateful” for those littering their resting place with nightly visits by those who may have missed the Bud ad that states; “Where there’s life, there’s Bud.”

The notion of “drinking responsibly” was a feeble attempt to justify Anheuser-Bush’s ads that have been increasingly geared toward the “now old enough to drink legally,” Spring Break loving college age kids. But Bud Light can also boast that it is the drink of choice for the unauthorized high school party taking place when the “rents” go away for the weekend. 

Now to be fair, Miller Lite (“tastes great…less filling.”) cans are often found in similar abundance on roadsides, woodsy trails and in parking lots. Can we extrapolate the of quantity of beer cans sold to quantity of beer cans callously and unceremoniously left for dead in the environment?  After all, isn’t even negative advertising, good advertising?  To the easily influenced, seeing more discarded Bud Light cans than Miller Lite cans in a pile in the woods would certainly influence their next purchase of a 24 pak –they would buy Bud Light!  

Can you imagine life without beer commercials or billboards?   Could we live in a world where they did not sell Bud Light at the ballpark in a plastic cup for $10 apiece? Could we endure the Super Bowl without the “Bud Bowl,” talking frogs or the adorable Clydesdale commercials?  Imagine what John Lennon might say:

Imagine there's no Bud Bowl

It isn't hard to do
Nothing but ads for Best Buy
And no tailgating too
Imagine all the viewers

   Drinking responsibly… 

Ok, inventors, let’s put on our thinking caps and come up with some solutions.  
 Here are my ideas:

Let’s design a “self-destructing” Budweiser container that will disintegrate automatically when it comes in contact with the ground.  (Note: If you’ve fallen down and passed out after drinking your entire 24 pack of Bud Light and you’re laying on the ground, the can will disintegrate and spill all over you, like someone splashing cold water in your face.)

How about the environmentally friendly cardboard can? (Like a juice box with a pop-top, plastic straw not included, as the inebriated imbiber would be unable to poke the straw through the opening and throw it on the ground.)  An alcoholic juice box with a  “born on” date!

Imagine if we could coat the can with a strong magnetic material that would rub off (add metal to the aluminum).  When the drunken litterbug tries to toss the empty can, it will “yo yo” right back up into the hand of the beholder. After all, “beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve imbibed my share of “brewskis” over the years and would be happy to have a beer with you after work some day.  But I’m tired of picking up after those who persist in leaving their pop-top aluminum calling card all over “this land is your land, this land is my land.”  I almost “laughed out loud” (LOL)  last week when I went out to get my paper and what do I spy in the grass next door?  A crushed Bud Light can! I might have laughed if I were not so “hopping” M.A.D.D!  So faithful readers, here endeth today’s blog rant. And in conclusion I will say; “ When you say Budweiser, you’ve said it all.”

For all you do, this (Bud)Blog’s for you.

Steve E. Reno

Excuse me, do you speak English?

I always enjoy hearing people complaining that if you want to be considered an American, you need to speak English. They complain about having to listen to a message, in Spanish and having to “Press 1 for English.”  I’ve seen signs that say; “This is America. We speak English.”  

Now unless I’m mistaken, the indigenous population inhabiting North America (before called it was America), was not speaking English.   Didn’t “we” risk life and limb to cross the ocean so that we could speak our own version of “The King’s English” (while trying to coerce the Native Americans to do the same)?  The “enlightened” Facebook posters declare that we speak “American” and if you want to live here, you better know how to speak “are" language.  (And by the way, wherever in the world “we” visit, we expect that everyone else should also speak our language, for our convenience.)  

Well, that would imply that if we need to speak English, that we should probably be able to read and write English as well.  Therein lies the rub.  I’ve heard some horrendous bastardizations of the English language and seen comical misuse and abuse of the written word.  Here’s a perfect example:  This sign was apparently suggested and sanctioned by Mayor Chester Stranczek (of Crestwood, who knows where):  ENGLISH IS OUR LANGUAGE  NO “EXCETIONS” LEARN IT! (Nice.) 

Though we all speak English, we find that regional dialects can challenge our hearing to the point of English sounding completely foreign.  We have come to appreciate the unique dialects spoken by long term residents of Bangor, Maine, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, or Bronx, NY, for example. Remember the scene in My Cousin Vinny where Joe Pesci was describing (to Fred Gwyne, the judge)  the boys he was defending as “youts”?

   Vinny: Is it possible that the two youts--

    Judge Haller: Uh, the two what? Uh, uh, what was that word?

    Vinny: Uh, what word?

    Judge Haller: Two what?

    Vinny: What?

    Judge Haller: Did you say "yutes"?

    Vinny: Yeah, two youts.

    Judge Haller: What is a yute?

    Vinny: Oh, excuse me, Your Honor, two youths.

The English language can sound very foreign when one moves from one part of the country to another.  (Disclaimer;  I frequent the “Judgement Free Zone” so these are observations only.) I think it may be physically impossible to live down South for any length of time without incorporating “y’all” to your everyday vocabulary. When I first moved to New Hampshire (from New Jersey), I could not believe my ears the first time I heard some one say; “So don’t I” as a response to a sentence like; “I love to go out for ice cream.”  I soon learned that employment of the reverse or double negative also applied to the plural as well as the tense.  “We had lahbsta last night.”  “ So didn’t we!”  (would be the reply)

“I’d be too scared to go on that roller coaster.”  “So wouldn’t I!” (would be the proper New England response.) 

Sometimes, if we use an expression enough, it begins to sound correct.  Every now and then, we hear someone butchering some common expression or mixing metaphors and we have to keep from laughing out loud.  We all seem to have adopted a particular malaprop to the point of saying the expression the right way sounds strange.  We like to describe what should be a simple project (but may be more involved) as “rocket surgery.” For example, it sounds strange to say that it should not be “rocket science” to develop a good tasting decapitated coffee!

Often times people (speaking English?) can really abuse a phrase resulting in a “malapropism.” How about this one for a classic botched expression: “She was suffering from a detached rectum.” (I guess she could not see for sh**!)

In other cases people keep using incorrect expression because others are reluctant to point out that it’s wrong.  Take this one for example:  “Corporate, in their infamous wisdom, decided to have more layoffs.”  It sounds “kind of right” but it’s infinitely incorrect.

We endured eight years of George W. Bush, who was a “vast suppository”of malapropisms.  They were profuse enough to warrant an official place in our lexicon.  They were known as “Bushisms.”  “Dubya” once said; “They misunderestimated me.”  Remember his speech on education where he said; "Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?" Good question (poor delivery.) In regard to G.W.B. it may suffice to use a famous “Yogism”(see Yogi Berra): "(He) really didn't say everything (he) said.”

There is nothing like a well-turned mixed metaphor to spice up a conversation. By definition, a mixed metaphor is; “a succession of incongruous or ludicrous comparisons.”

Speaking of “ludicrous”, let’s start with Rush Limbaugh using this mixed metaphor:

 "I knew enough to realize that the alligators were in the swamp and that it was time to circle the wagons." (The Liberals made him say it!)

I think Rush would agree with former Vice-president Dan Quayle when he said:

"Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."

Now here’s one that Rush may have once used: “He’s not the one with his ass in a noose.”

Here’s one that I may once have said (about Rush): “These hemorrhoids are a real pain in the neck.”

One thing that I can say for sure about Rush and I is that our views are “diabolically opposed.” Fortunately for Rush, we Americans not only speak English but free speech is“incarcerated” into our Constitution.  

Well I’ve been working long and hard on this blog, burning the midnight oil at both ends so I’ll close with this observation by Richard Lederer: "The best malapropisms are those that leap across the chasm of absurdity and land on the side of truth."

What’s my next topic going to be, you ask?  I’m not sure but I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it!

"Unintelligible at any speed"

Back in 1964, I played drums in my first band called “The Changin' Tyde."  Pop music was in a state of “renaissance” and bands were popping up like thunderstorms on a summer day in Nebraska. One of the early classics and a staple of any self-respecting garage band was the song Louie Louie by the Kingsmen. The allure of this song was the cool, repetitive guitar/organ lick and the unintelligible lyrics, which then everyone thought must be “suggestive”. The song was originally written by Richard (no relation to Chuck) Berry and recorded in 1957 by Richard Berry and the Pharaohs.  After the Kingsman made the song a hit, the FBI did an investigation to determine if the lyrics were indeed, “pornographic.”  They played the song at 78 rpm’s and at 33 rpm’s and determined it was “unintelligible at any speed.”  

Here's an except from the website www.history.com:

“Based on outcry from parents who bought into what may have started as an idle rumor, the FBI launched a formal investigation in 1964 into the supposedly pornographic lyrics of the song "Louie, Louie." That investigation finally neared its conclusion on this day in 1965, when the FBI Laboratory declared the lyrics of "Louie Louie" to be officially unintelligible.”

Pop music flourished featuring songs with often unintelligible or indistinguishable lyrics. Back in “our day”, before Karaoke,  we did not have the luxury or instant gratification of Google to ascertain actual lyrics. We had to do some heavy and repeated listening attempting to glean the words to our favorite contemporary hits.  Was Johnny Rivers singing;  “I got a rock in my ammonia and the boogie woogie flute?”  There was no question that Johnny was singing about a  “Secret Asian Man!”

Little did I know but there is an actual term for these bastardized lyrics; it’s called a “mondegreen.” Here’s the description from Wikipedia:

“A mondegreen is the mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase as a result of near-homophony, in a way that gives it a new meaning.”

The phrase was coined by Silvia Wright when she recalled as a girl, “mishearing” the last line of a 17^th century poem;  “They hae slain the Earl o' Moray, and Lady Mondegreen” became; “ And laid him on the green.”

Jimi Hendrix realized how his own “mondegreen” had "gone viral". You can see a video of him having a laugh at his own expense while performing Purple Haze as he pointed to his bass player and sang;  “s'cuse me while I kiss this guy.”  John Fogerty also famously paid homage to his own creation by singing the following “mondegreen”; "There's a bathroom on the right."  Arguably, one of the most “misheard” lyrics of the last decade was written by Bruce Springsteen and made a hit by Manfred Mann.  Who knew he was saying; “revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night?” (Wrapped up like a what?!)

I recall talking to a guy once who loved the Elton John song, Rocket Man.  We both laughed at his interpretation of the line, “burnin’ out his fuse up here alone,” which he had been singing as “burning off the trees on every lawn”.  E.J. may just be the “king of mondegreens.”  How about Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters where he sings; “some with cankers, some with goiters?” (“sons of bankers, sons of lawyers.”) I’ve always wondered why old Elton, with his English inflection was singing about the star of  “Who’s the Boss”, “Hold me closer, Tony Danza” (count the head lice on the highway?) or about B-b-b- Betty in a Dress (electric boobs and mohair too?)  It all makes sense to me now.

Here are some of my favorite “mondegreens” for your listening pleasure.  (Feel free to sing along.)

From the classic Billy Joel tune, You may be Right: “You made the rice, I made the gravy.”  (A tasty variation.)

Van Morrison sings the opening line of Brown Eyed Girl:  “Hey there, Amigo.”  (For his Latino audience.)

The Monkees:  “Then I saw her face, now I’m gonna leave her.”  (I couldn’t believe her if I tried?)

Fleetwood Mac:  “When the rainbow shaves you clean, you’ll know.”  (Yes, you will know.)

Neil Diamond:   "Reverend blue jeans.” (How hip thou art!)

The Beatles:  “She’s got a tick in her eye, she’s got a tick in her eye-I –I.” That can’t be right, it must be; “She’s got a chicken to ride."  (And she don’t care!)

"The girl with colitis goes by."  (That would be poor Lucy)

Madonna: “Gonna dress you up in nylons.”  (Appropriate lyric for the “material girl”.) 

J. Geils Band: “My angel is a xenophobe. “ (Don’t be afraid if this sounds a little foreign.)

The Rascals:   “You and me and Leslie.”  (Groovin’ threesome.)

Dobie Gray: “Give me the Beach Boys and free my soul..” (You get the drift.)

The Eagles:  “What a nice surprise, when you’re out of ice.”  (“Relax, says the nice man, we are programmed to deceive.")

Well, I guess Huey Lewis was right when he said the Heart of Rock’n’Roll is in “Cleveland” and as the Kingsmen said; “Loueye Loueye, oh bebe, we gotta go now, I said we gotta go now, Let’s Go!!”

Steve E, Reno

A permanent reminder of a temporary feeling...

As I pulled into the parking space at the gym I was mildly irritated by the bumper sticker on the car in front of me.  It was a blue Bush – Cheney bumper sticker (circa year 2000).  Giving the owner of this vehicle the benefit of the doubt, I thought, maybe it just won’t come off.  It’s a “carttoo” – a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling, as Jimmy Buffett described in his song of that title.  At least that “carttoo” was valid for 8 years.  The Romney/Ryan “carttoo” I saw recently represented a ship that had long sailed (and eventually sunk.) I’d use some duct tape to cover that one up if it would not come off!  In the spirit of bipartisanship, I would also suggest that all Obama “carttoos” be removed by 2016 as well.  

There is no doubt that the profusion and acceptability of “body art”, (including piercing), has been steadily increasing over the years.  In our celebrity driven society, we only to have look as far as our sports figures and rock star role models to see how “ink” has been embraced.   Arms, legs, backs, chests and shoulders are now seen as canvases for increasingly intricate artistic designs.

 “She was no Marine back from the Philippines

She was their pride and joy, their incarnation.

Her parents viewed the chief

With shock and disbelief

Looking for some other explanation……

It's a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling.”

Jimmy Buffett

Remember when the only people who had tattoos were your grizzled old uncle who had been in the Navy who proudly sported an anchor on his forearm,  black leather clad bikers or prison inmates, showing their gang  affiliations? 

At the gym, I contemplated the proliferation of “body art” as it was on full display.  Three young dudes attached to iPhones and ear buds next to me all had colorful calf tattoos that looked like they might have been replicas of the ceiling at the Sistine Chapel. Then there were a number of young women with  “roses on shoulders and kittens with whiskers”, (sung to the tune of My Favorite Things) and the obligatory “tramp stamps”.  (Sorry, though I was at the “Judgement Free Zone,” that’s the moniker that has become part of our modern lexicon.) Despite the new innovations in laser tattoo removal, tattoos are permanent reminders in everlasting Technicolor.

It may seem that Americans can be separated into the  “haves” (tattoos) and the  “havenots” (tattoos) but age, gender and economics don’t seem to figure in the equation.   Like many things these days, parents only have so much influence or control over their children’s wardrobe or their dermatological presentation.  I recently heard a father of a 19-year-old girl say, “ I tried everything to convince my daughter not to get a tattoo.  I even offered her $500 if she would forgo the ink.” Nice try, Dad.   Instead of her being $500 richer, she was out $500 bucks and sporting a fresh, new colorful leg design. 

My wife and I were walking downtown on a warm summer day and we passed a “mature” woman of a certain age who had too many sagging and wrinkly tattoos on her too exposed areas.  We each had the same thought.  We wished we could have taken a picture of this to illustrate (no pun intended) why one might think twice about their youthful decision to get tattoos.  What was once (maybe) a rose had become a wilted head of cabbage that was destined for the compost heap and what was once (perhaps) a whimsical butterfly was now a horrific dragon-like vision in black and blue, from in a bad dream.   Like with carpentry, it’s a good idea to “think twice and ink once.”  You don’t want to have “tattoo regret” as in this tattoo:  “No Regerts”  

Many of us tolerant and evolved types accept body art as “Live and Let Life” (as I saw on one tattoo fail.) However, unless you are Mike Tyson, the neck, head and face seem to be the final  frontier of socially acceptable  permanent designs. Call me old fashioned, but I have yet to see a neck tattoo that I would call “tasteful” no matter how artistic it was.   A tasteful neck tattoo might be considered an oxymoron.  Here's one I like:

One word of caution before getting that tattoo:  Be sure to check spelling and grammar. 

 I “belive” they were going for “Believe”.

"Never is an awefully long time.”  (This Awe inspiring bad spelling is forever.)

“My mom is my angle”  (90 degrees of separation?)

Why fight it, I might as well jump on the “ink bandwagon” and get a tattoo.  After all,

“you only live ones!”  Oops, let me rephrase that; ” you only life once.” 

   

Steve E. Reno

Funny business....

No one likes to get behind a school bus when they are late and in a hurry.  One day I was following a septic system pumping truck (at a safe distance) with fancy script lettering on the back that read:  “The Stool Bus”.  (Thankfully, it did not make any stops for pick-ups or drop-offs!) I always love a good euphemism!

We all appreciate a clever or funny business name and now when I see one (like everyone else with a cell phone), I take a picture of the sign. Last week I took a picture of a pickup truck displaying this handy man’s business name:  Ken-Do All.   (Nice one, Ken!)  I thought, if Ken is booked up he just says, “No Ken-Do.”  So I found myself singing the old Hall and Oates classic; “I can’t go for that, no – oh –oh – No Ken-Do.”

Those in the unfortunate but necessary  “port-o-potty” business are especially inventive when it comes to catchy names for their products.  In New England, we have the infamous Blow Bros. whose portable toilets proudly state:  
 “We’re #1 in the # 2 business.”

 Honorable mentions in the category of “port-o-potty” business names go to:

“Johnny-On-The-Spot” and  “Call-A-Head”.   In addition I’m sure this company would be glad to be included in this list:  “Tanks A lot”.

 

My wife has particular aversion to hair salons with “cutesy” names, so I’m always looking for subtle, yet descriptive salon names.   Here are some examples of ones that are “punny” but would not pass the muster of acceptability (or good taste):

Sheer Lock Combs  (This could work if next door was an electrical supply company named Watts & Sons).

Curl Up and Dye  (This might be good if they were next to a skateboard shop named “Holy Rollers.”)

Would you go to either of these places to get your hair done; Turn Your Head and Coif or Cubic Hair?

I used to think myself quite clever when I suggested a good name for a take out restaurant serving cuisine from India might be; “Curry In A Hurry”.   (I soon found out that it was the name of a real restaurant!)

When it comes to fast food joints, the names tend to be more whimsical.  Here are some (real life) tasty examples of excellent fast food joint names:

Lord of the Fries (Why are all the employees young boys?)

Pita Pan (Why are all the employees young Middle Eastern boys and why is a Wendy's right next door?!)

Hindenburger  (Flame broiled Burgers). (Eat here too often and you’ll look like a …..fill in the blank.)

And my personal favorite: Eatie Gourmets.  (Owned by a guy named Steve.)

“Let’s do Chinese tonight.  Let’s try that new place…”

Moon Wok (M.J. might say; “that name is bad, it’s bad, you know it, it’s bad.”)

Wok on Water (A miraculously satisfying food experience with a great river view.)

Nin Com Soup (Right next door to Me Sew, a fabric store.)

Wok and Roll (Stir fry and sushi!)

Wok Around the Clock (Obviously, open all night.)

When I want a different breakfast cuisine I head down to:

I Feel Like Crepe (Let’s hope not, after eating there.)

For a fun night of tacos, salsa and margaritas, how about a trip to Tequila Mockingbird? (Novel idea!)

When you need a landscaping service, why not call Lawn Order? (Give Sam Waterston a call.)

When Mother’s Day rolls around, don’t hesitate to visit Florist Gump.  (Would you like a box of chocolates with your flowers?)

When you need a reputable company to clean your house or office, call the Boss:

 Spruce Spring Clean. (They arrive in a pink Cadillac with New Jersey plates.)

Need a plumber?  Give the Drain Surgeons a call. (It’s not rocket surgery!)

“Hello, I’m calling from Rex Carr’s Driving School.  I need a body shop, who do you Wreck-a-Mend?”

On the subject of cars, here’s my pick for best used car dealer name: Boris’ Car Loft. 

If I lived in San Francisco, I’d take my car to be cleaned at:

Baywash (Please don’t steal the David Hasselhoff or Pamela Anderson cardboard cut-outs.)

And how about fast food on wheels?  Here are 2 great (real life) food truck names:

Jurassic Pork.  (Try the Fred Flintstone brontosaurus ribs!)

I Dream of Weenie (“I wish there was a good place to grab a hot dog….”  Wish granted!)

There is nothing more satisfying than becoming a doctor or dentist and hanging your shingle, announcing your private practice. Locally, we have 2 dentists with great professional names.  We have both Dr. Swallow and Dr. Toothaker. 

Imagine how proud Mr. And Mrs. Patient were when their son finished Medical School and officially became, Dr. Patient! 

See you soon for some more:

Steve E. Reno