After The Big Man Joined The Band, The Door Was Closed

Let's hold Bruce Springsteen to the same standard that he holds the Republican Party to:

Clarence Clemons just died.  He was part of Bruce's band, the E Street Band, for 40 years.  During that time, he was the only black member of the band.  Are you telling me that for 40 years, Bruce could not find another black person qualified to join the band?  Of course he could, but he chose not to.  Why is that?  The man is forever preaching about brotherhood and equality-yet he could not be bothered to apply those principles to his own band.

And its not like there was a lot of red tape or office politics involved: Bruce is the Boss.  With a capital B.  He could have hired qualified, talented minorities at the snap of a finger-but he never did.

In fact, after he hired Clemons, Bruce has gone almost a half century and he still has not hired another minority.  It sounds like a hiring record that only George Wallace would love.

Given these facts, is it any wonder that you never see black people attending a Springsteen show?  Look at those audiences; they are whiter than Johnny Winter walking in a blizzard.  With the death of Clemons, the total number of black people attending Springsteen concerts will drop from 1 to 0.

Springsteen is not just a rock star; he is also a billion dollar business.  And his record on minority outreach is abysmal.

He can perform at all the Obama fundraisers he wants, he can preach to his hearts content, but that does not change his 40 year record of exclusion.

So Sad When They Go

Funeral arrangements have been set for Dr. Kervorkian.  The family requests that in lieu of flowers, that you just kill yourself.

"What's French-Canadian for 'I grew up without a mother'?"

Although Phoebe Snow seemingly faded from the entertainment scene, she had two high- profile mentions: Howard Stern & The Sopranos.

Howard was her friend, and for years he would mention how Phoebe dedicated her life to her daughter.  Phoebe also sang as Howard's wedding a couple of years ago.

As for the Sopranos, Phoebe and one of her songs are mentioned in one of the greatest Sopranos scenes ever:

http://youtu.be/Vb7SWFgSf7o

Snow In Heaven

The great Phoebe Snow, who passed away today, proves there's an exception to every rule.  Snow who was 60, was part of the baby boomer generation.  The worst generation.  The most selfish, the least giving.  The first generation to say it was okay to abandon your country in a time of war, to over-indulge in the "if it feels good, do it" culture, and to abandon their children at record levels.

What a horrible legacy.

But then there's Phoebe.

What a voice on her, large and strong.  Powerful without overpowering the listener.  No auto-tunes for her.  She sold records, sold out concerts, and had a large and loyal following.

But she put it all on hold when she had Valerie.

Valerie was born with severe brain damage.  She wasn't supposed to make it to the age of 3.  Phoebe did everything with her daughter.  24/7 she took care of her.  Stopped the whole career thing in its tracks.  For a higher purpose.

And because of her dedication, Valerie lived for 28 more years than was expected.  31 years-she was there 24/7.

Phoebe Snow, the baby boomer who proves there's an exception to every rule, dead at 60.    

He Never Took Care Of Himself

Jack LaLanne died yesterday.  He was 96.  He is the only guy who if you found him dead at the bottom of a swimming pool with cinder blocks tied to his legs, you would never think it was suicide.  Just a workout gone wrong. 

In his honor, today all stair masters and elliptical machines will be set at half speed.

Nielsen

The great thing about Leslie Nielsen is that he never winked at the camera.  He never gave a look to the audience that said, " I'm a funny bastard."  He delivered the lines, and never broke character.  Do we have funny people in America anymore?  Rodney, Pryor, Carlin, Nielsen joins them on the Mount Rushmore of Comedy.  Some greatest hits:

Mimi Du Jour: Is this some kind of bust?

Lt. Frank Drebin (Nielsen): Yes, ma'am, it's very impressive, but we need to ask you a few questions.

Dr. Rumack (Nielsen): You'd better tell the captain we've got to land as soon as we can. This woman has to be gotten to a hospital.

Elaine: A hospital? What is it?
Dr. Rumack: It's a big building with patients, but that's not important right now.

Doorman: Your coat, sir?

Lt. Frank Drebin (Nielsen): Yes, it is. And I have a receipt to prove it.

Lt. Frank Drebin (Nielsen): Wilma, I promise you; whatever scum did this, not one man on this force will rest one minute until he's behind bars. Now, let's grab a bite to eat.


Vincent Ludwig: Nice to meet you too. [offers Drebin a cigar] Cuban?

Lt. Frank Drebin (Nielsen): Err, no, Dutch-Irish, my father was from Wales.

Luke

The quintessential power forward of my youth, Maurice Lucas, passed away yesterday from bladder cancer.  He was 58.

He was the heart and soul of the '77 champion Trail Blazers and also a central figure on the greatest sports book ever written, "The Breaks of the Game" by David Halberstam.   If you haven't read it, you should be sentended to watching the World Cup for the rest of your life.

Anyway, the best tribute to Luke was made by his teammate Bill Walton, who named his son after Lucas.  Knowing how much the concept of team meant to Walton, with UCLA, with the Celtics, etc. how awesome is it that he named his son Luke?  Do you think Kobe has a son named Shaq?  Please.

After the Lakers won the 2009 championship, Walton wrote his son a letter saying how proud he is of him  for being a member of a championship team.  But Walton being Walton, he could not help but compare Luke's Lakers to his own Blazers, and he reminds his son of his namesake.            
Check it out:


Luke, you mentioned the historical reference to your team's abilities. When you get to be my age, trash talking is about all that's left. I fully admit, Luke, that your team is really, really good. Kobe is supreme. Pau, Lamar and Andrew are all top of the line. And Phil Jackson is brilliant.

Right next to your smile on my spirit and soul are the immortal words of Jack Ramsay, who recently said on the 30th anniversary of the 1977 World Champion Blazers in putting that team's abilities in historical context:

"I like our team. We'll take our chances. Anywhere. Anytime. Against anybody."

Blazers in four, Luke. Never forget why you are named after Maurice Lucas.

Love, Dad

Books That Are To Die For

Weird but true: I was reading PostWar: A History of Europe Since 1945 by Tony Judt yesterday when I decided to google Judt to learn more about him. And that's when I found out he died-earlier that day.

It's an unusual feeling to google someone and find out that they had died only hours earlier.

I wanted to see if I had magic powers that I could put to good use so I typed the words "Barney Frank" but he turned out to be alive.

The Judt story reminded of a time I was in a Pittsburgh airport waiting for a connecting flight to NYC. I had a couple of hrs. to kill so I went to the airport bookstore.

You ever have a moment in a bookstore when it all comes together and you know you have to buy a book?

I had a moment like that. I saw a book I had to buy: Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball's Last Hero by David Maraniss.

The book met every criteria I had: (1) a general subject I was interested in-baseball; (2) a specific topic within the general subject I wanted to learn more about-Clemente; and (3) an author whose previous work I had admired-Maraniss.

So I rushed to the counter to buy the book-and was looking forward to a couple of hrs. of pure pleasurable reading.

But as soon as I handed over the cash to the clerk I had a sudden thought that made me realize that there was no way I was going to buy that book, and I politely asked for my money back and put the book back on the shelf.

And that thought was: I am not going to read a book on a plane about a man that died in a plane crash. No fucking way. Plus the book was about a man who played for the Pirates, and I was flying from Pittsburgh.

So I just sat there and did nothing.

Tony Judt, Chronicler of History, Is Dead at 62 - Obituary (Obit ...

Crash

Dock Ellis has gotta go down as a Stoop Yankee All Star. In April 1977, the Yankees were slumping, and George was busting everybody's balls, probably firing a few secretaries and the elevator operator to show he was the BOSS. Anyway, Ellis commented on the the bright side of losing:

"The more we lose, the more Steinbrenner will fly in. And the more he flies, the better the chance there will be a plane crash.”

Birds Of Beauty

There is so much in life for you to feel
Unfound in white, red, or yellow pills
A mind excursion can be such a thrill,
You please satisfy,
Take a chance and ride
The bird of beauty of the sky.-Stevie Wonder

Remember that commercial from the 1970's with the Indian with the tear in his eye because of the pollution? I had one of those moments last night.

The federal government-in a brutally efficient manner- invaded my slice of heaven-Prospect Park-and removed and killed all the geese from the lake.

They are all gone.

And unlike the Mossad, they did not even spare one to warn all the future geese.

As anyone who knows me well can attest, I spend a lot of time (every day) in Prospect Park. And an inordinate amount of that free time is spent by the lake admiring the wonders of nature: the geese, swans and ducks.

It's my favorite place in the world to read.

But it has been forever altered.

The reason the feds gave: the geese are dangerous to planes.

Who knew 100 years after the Wright Brothers, that this would pose a problem?

But that is what you get when you have a President who thinks geese are a bigger threat than terrorists when it comes to air safety.

But seriously, the geese in Prospect Park are a great example of how the federal and local governments can never get on the same page.

A couple of weeks ago, a lot of park people noticed there was one goose that had an arrow stuck in its neck. It was horrible and the word went out to try to grab the goose and get it the proper medical attention. After a few weeks of trying, the park rangers were finally able to subdue the goose, get it to the vet, and have the arrow removed.

That goose was returned to the lake-it was a great feel good story.

Little did we know.

That goose was rounded up with the rest of them and killed.

So while the local government was busy saving geese, the feds had plans to kill the very same geese.

Who knew that the geese of Prospect Park would have been better off in the Gulf of Mexico covered in BP oil?


400 Prospect Park Geese Are Killed‎

"He's Dead. Dead."

Bob Sheppard dead at 99. When George head the news, he asked his secretary to get Billy Martin on the line because he wanted to break the news to him personally. The poor bastard worked until he was 97. The Yankees finally got around to announcing his retirement last November. Below is the Stoop post on Sheppard's retirement:


"I'm Done. Done."

Did you see that Bob Sheppard has announced that he is retiring as the Yankee public address announcer? I wonder, did he make his retirement announcement over the Yankee public address system in the third Yankee Stadium? How cool would it have been to hear that:

"I announce that I quit. I quit".

Talk about things that are past due- the guy is going to be 100 years old next year! That means he has been cashing social security checks since Mickey Mantle was playing.

The guy is so old, he got his last name from his previous occupation.

When Sheppard first started announcing, the PA system wasn't even invented yet. He would open the press box window and yell at the top of his lungs.

Imagine the poor bastard who was Sheppard's backup? Every winter he probably thought, "I'm finally gonna get the job".

That guy probably died years ago.

Bob Sheppard held on to his job for so long, he makes Cal Ripken look lazy.

I tell you, Sheppard was either the most dedicated person who ever lived or outright crazy.

Think about it: Say your 90 years old. Are you gonna travel to the Bronx for ANY REASON WHATSOEVER?

And after commuting to the Bronx, you have to work? And since baseball has no clock, you never know when the workday is finished- who would do that?

Heir Coryell

I just read that Don Coryell died. My first reaction was "I thought he was already dead". That ever happen to you? It happened recently when Art Linkletter died as well. Years ago, I thought of a game show "Dead or Alive?" in which you give the contestants names of people who have not been in the public eye for years and they have to guess whether the person was dead or alive. If the person was alive, and the contestant thought they were dead, you have the old fuck show up from behind a curtain. I thought of this game show idea about 10 years ago, when a friend and I both swore that Buddy Ebsen was dead, and we looked him up on the Internet and not only was he alive, he was selling paintings via the Internet! We were blown away that a guy we thought was dead was not only alive, but was using the most modern of all technologies to earn a living.

The Slimes

I just read the New York Slimes story on the death of that liberal lion Senator Byrd. I read it not to learn about Byrd, or his life and death or anything like that. I read it to see how long it would take them to mention that minor little detail about Byrdbrain being in the KKK. The paper of record finally got around to mentioning it in PARAGRAPH 15.

When Strom Thurmond died, -who never was in the KKK by the way- the lead paragraph was "The slave-owning segregationist, black hater died today."

Check out this letter that Byrd wrote regarding integrating the military:

"I shall never fight in the armed forces with a Negro by my side... Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throwback to the blackest specimen from the wilds."

— Robert C. Byrd, in a letter to Sen. Theodore Bilbo (D-MS)

Somehow that did not make it into the Slimes either.

Two More Are Coming....

Because John Wooden was such a national treasure, when I heard he was "gravely ill" my first thought was: "I hope three famous people die real quick so Coach Wooden could be spared." Because, if you believe that these things happen in groups of three, we were just coming off of two complete sets, which were:


Jose Lima
Gary Coleman
Dennis Hopper

Art Linkletter
Rue McClanahan
Ted Koppel's son

Lewis

Forget the fact that he was the best coach who ever lived, and put aside that the man was a living saint, what I loved about John Wooden that has gone largely unreported was that he still referred to Kareem as "Lewis". Because he was so pure, and did not have a malicious bone in his body, he could call him "Lewis" and it did not seem like a dig, or a refusal to accept the new name or religion-it was just Wooden. Do you think anybody else could in 2010 call Kareem "Lewis" without it being a slight? No way, right?

The Greatest Has Passed

With the passing of John Wooden, the greatest coach in American history, I thought it would be appropriate to link a prior Stoop post on Bill Walton and the letter he wrote to Coach Wooden on his 99th birthday:


Grateful Red

His Songs Will Always Be Played On The Stoop

Imagine you are a famous singer, and you've sold millions of records. Imagine further that at age 31, you are in a car accident that leaves you paralyzed from the chest down. Would you have the courage to make your first public singing appearance since the accident in front of 90,000 fans @ JFK Stadium in Philly, plus a billion or so watching the famous Live Aid Concert on television? The great Teddy Pendergrass, who passed away Wednesday, had that type of courage. Watch the incredibly moving performance below.
Ashford & Simpson with Teddy Pendergrass (Rest in Peace) - Reach Out And Touch (Live Aid 1985) Ashford & Simpson with Teddy Pendergrass Live Aid July 13th, 1985
© 2009 YouTube, LLC 901 Cherry Ave, San Bruno, CA 94066

When He Was On The Scene, Everything Was Alright

It feels like 1,000 people have left the room. Just last week I wrote about him ("The List") and now he has passed on. I am talking about, of course, the great Captain Lou Albano who died yesterday.

He has gone and joined my other two favorites, the Grand Wizard and Freddie Blassie, in that Great Steel Cage Match in the sky.

Captain Lou was awesome. His monologues straight into the camera to the viewer at home during the 70's were a thing of beauty.

Back then, I thought a wrestling manager was the coolest job. While the wrestlers (wink, wink) fought, the managers just talked a lot of s**t, hung out at ringside during matches (which often entailed hitting an opponent when the ref wasn't looking), and picked up a nice paycheck.

Who can forget the Grand Wizard, with that headset borrowed from Johnny Carson's Carnac, and those sunglasses, telling the world the virtues of Superstar Billy Graham's bearhug?

Or the Hollywood fashion plate calling everyone in sight a "pencil neck geek" and hitting guys with his cane?

Captain Lou joins them both.

Wouldn't it be awesome if a Battle Royale broke out during the funeral?

How great would it be if George "The Animal" Steele gave the eulogy?

Bob Novak: We Will Not See His Kind Again

The Stoop would like to take the time to recognize the great contributions made to this country by long time Washington reporter Bob Novak, who passed away earlier today.

Bob Novak's column (either solo, or with long time partner Rollie Evans) was must read journalism. Novak always adhered to his credo which stated each column must not only have an opinion, but it always must contain news that has not previously been published.

You see, Novak came from a time when you had to do your own research. You had to cross-check, and you had to cultivate sources.

He put the shoe leather into the job. He did not twitter his way through a 50 year career in journalism.

Leaving aside print journalism, Novak was a founding father of cable TV political talk/debate shows. The man had more TV shows than Dick Van Dyke. I used to love to watch Novak & Buchanan on Crossfire. I would come away thinking that the tag-team of Novak & Buchanan was better than anything Vince McMahon could have come up with.

Novak's death is the latest in a recent string of deaths of irreplaceable journalist/writers: Buckley, Mailer, Russert, Halberstam & Snow.

These men have left the stage to a bunch of Canal Street knock- off watches: Olbermann, Madow & Blitzer.

The sad thing is I cannot think of an under 40 writer/journalist that I feel I must see or read.

But I always read & watched Novak.

He will be greatly missed.

Jacko: Not High On My List

Stay with me while we grow old
And we will live each day in springtime- Minnie Ripperton- died 1979 @ age 31

Well I use to have a friend named Minnie Ripperton
Who use to always say when she was living
“Like fine wine I like seeing the glass of life as half full than half empty”- Stevie Wonder "Positivity"-written in 2005

Is it over? I'm talking about the MJ funeral. Are the NAMBLA flags still at half-mast? All I heard on TV was "Michael Jackson was the greatest entertainer who ever lived." Of course, that is wrong. It's wrong because its like saying "blue is the best color". Its way too subjective a question. The answer is different for all of us. My off the top of my head list of people who have passed away that entertained me more than Jacko puts a whole lot of people ahead of MJ.

Here goes:

Bob Marley & John Lennon died within 6 months of each other. Sorry, both were more interesting, more entertaining, and more important than the self mutilated man.

Ray Charles is the founding father of r&b music. He's the George Washington. And there can only be one George Washington for every genre. Doesn't matter how many Filipino prisoners imitate Jacko, he ain't Ray Charles.

Frank Sinatra - He is American music of the 20th Century. Sorry devotees of the one-gloved one.

Sammy Davis Jr.- If he were a baseball player, he would have won several triple crowns. Possibly the greatest.

Elvis- Elvis is Michael Jackson without the little boy problem. You know how in baseball tie goes to the runner? Here, a tie goes to Elvis.

Johnny Cash- I would take the man in black over the man who did not want to be black any day.

Luther Vandross- the voice. He was in the crowd at the Garden in a concert I attended. He was called to the stage to sing. Never heard a better voice. The black Sinatra.

James Brown-if Ray Charles is George Washington, than James Brown is Alexander Hamilton. And Jacko is Millard Fillmore. Would rather see James Brown in concert in 1959 or 2009 than the man with the smoke & mirrors, crotch-grabbin dancers and idol worshipers. I take the Godfather over the ODDFATHER.

Marvin Gaye- every one of his records from 1971 until his death were great and still hold up. The voice.

Stevie Wonder- "If I had one musical hero, it would have to be Stevie Wonder,” says Barack Obama, who grew up on Seventies R&B and rock. “When I was at that point where you start getting involved in music, Stevie had that run with Music of My Mind, Talking Book, Fulfillingness’ First Finale and Innervisions, and then Songs in the Key of Life. Those are as brilliant a set of five albums as we’ve ever seen."- Rolling Stone Magazine. Who am I to disagree with Barack Obama? (Stevie is not dead, but I could not resist.)

Groucho Marx- way more entertaining than MJ. When he hosted "You Bet Your Life" the man would ad-lib like no one who ever lived. Example: One contestant, a woman, told Groucho she had 15 children. Groucho asked why. "I love children" the woman replied. Groucho's priceless comeback: "Lady, I love cigars, but I take them out of my mouth every once in a while."

Jackie Gleason- The Honeymooners. Still funny. Still relevant. The original 39 episodes are the gold standard of comedy. Way more entertaining than Jackson. Gleason was a master. Gleason is so great that when you enter Brooklyn you are greeted by his famous quote: "How Sweet It Is!" Let me know when a Jacko quote replaces Gleason's.



Rodney Dangerfield- nobody delivered a better punch line. You would be laughing at the third joke so hard, the next 5 came at you in waves and you had to catch up. Caddy Shack & Back to School? Sorry, these movies were/are way more entertaining than Michael Jackson.

John Belushi- nobody comes close to Belushi. I don't care how many lunch boxes MJ sells. Belushi had a great band, a great television show and the greatest comedy movie ever "Animal House" all at the same time. Belushi was so great, I prefer his Joe Cocker impersonation than the actual Joe Cocker.

Richard Pryor- someone said that we all try to hide from the world our deepest fears. Pryor took his deepest fears and demons and put them on the stage for all the world to see. and made it funny and moving.

George Carlin- the most prolific stand-up comedian of all time.

I would also include the following ahead of MJ:

Donny Hathaway
Bobby Darin
Joe Strummer
Curtis Mayfield
David Ruffin
Dean Martin
Eddie Kendricks
Minnie Ripperton
George Harrison
Roy Orbison
Jim Croce
Harry Chapin
Johnny Carson
Laura Nyro
Rick Danko
Richard Manuel
Peter Tosh
Sam Cooke
Syreeta Wright
Billy Preston

Everyone's list is different. Who did I leave off that would be on your list of performers that are no longer with us?