Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Song of the Metropolitan Man
When I win the Power Ball you won't see me no more.
When I win the Power Ball you won't see me no more.
Gonna change my name & live in a doublewide down the shore.
Send checks to poor poets, signed "Dante By The Sea."
Send checks to poor poets, signed "Dante By The Sea."
Delivered by a three-legged mutt, answers only to me.
My only luxury will be a Nash Metropolitan.
A 1959 Blue convertible Metropolitan.
Wherever I drive, they'll shout, "There goes the Metropolitan Man!".
When I win the Power Ball you won't see me no more.
Gonna change my name & live in a doublewide down the shore.
Send checks to poor poets, signed "Dante By The Sea."
Send checks to poor poets, signed "Dante By The Sea."
Delivered by a three-legged mutt, answers only to me.
My only luxury will be a Nash Metropolitan.
A 1959 Blue convertible Metropolitan.
Wherever I drive, they'll shout, "There goes the Metropolitan Man!".
Labels: Metropolitan Man, poem
Monday, July 29, 2013
"Tilt-a-Whirl"
I don't know what it was about that dame, but whenever I was around her I packed my little Smith-Wesson J frame .38 in an ankle holster.
The last wiseguy laughed at the gun needed a knee replacement & five months of rehab therapy.
He got the replacement, but no therapy in prison, where he acquired the name, "Tilt-a-Whirl."
The last wiseguy laughed at the gun needed a knee replacement & five months of rehab therapy.
He got the replacement, but no therapy in prison, where he acquired the name, "Tilt-a-Whirl."
Labels: Metropolitan Man, music, poem
Friday, October 14, 2011
Bruce Springsteen - Tunnel of Love
Gave a close listening to this song for the first time last night, concluded it's one of his finest singles. Not that I know all of Springsteen's singles, over the years they've been whatever I happened to hear piped over store sound systems, which is how I knew "Tunnel of Love" was some kind of hit. I still have not heard the 1987 album of that name from beginning to end in sequence (the last album he released in two side LP format).
Four E Streeters play on this song, Roy Bittan on keyboards, Max Weinberg on drums, Patti Sciafi contributing vocals, & Nils Lofgren providing the excellent guitar break. I suspect 80% of it is Bruce. A meticulously constructed studio song (hangs together pretty good as a live number).
Great synth hook that dates it but doesn't keep it stuck in the era; he carries the amusement ride metaphor all the way through; the couplet "Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us / You, me and all that stuff we're so scared of" is worthy of Neil Young. Spooky layers of clanks, rumbles & voices in the mix, & the song sounds like something you'd hear blasting out of a boardwalk ride like the Himalaya. "Tunnel of Love" is a sad, mature song about adult relationships, yet connected to a shared American memory of couple of teenagers on a dark ride at an amusement park or fair. It's a very high expression of Springsteen's art, tough & unsentimentally romantic, what one always hopes from him, big praise coming from me.
The back story everyone knows is that his marriage to actress Julianne Phillips wasn't taking. He had also tried to relocate to California.The couple split during the Tunnel of Love Express Tour. European paparazzi were taking all kinds of cozy pix of Bruce & Patti together. For that tour Bruce had promoted Patti to his main stage companion, pushing Clarence off to the side, & in a video of this song from the tour the rumored new couple were singing at the same mic, lips 1/4 inch apart, if that far. No wonder Julianne packed up & went home. It was semi-scandalous, but I paid no attention to any of it at the time,
Springsteen's public persona is so complete & protected, even when he's just being "Bruce," that you can't learn much about his personal life from his songs. This one comes close. Around the same time, 1989, Neil Young woke up from the strange musical dreams he'd been having, & in Freedom & Ragged Glory there was no doubting he had documented midlife crises of love, commitment & identity in searing personal songs. Their careers have taken parallel paths ever since.
At the end of the video is a melancholy glimpse of the classic Asbury Park Casino carousel being dismantled, sold off in pieces. The ferris wheel in background at Palace Amusements had a few years remaining. The city, wretched as it was in 1987, had a distance to drop before hitting the bottom of its long fall.
Labels: Asbury Park, boardwalks, Metropolitan Man, music, New Jersey, video
Friday, August 26, 2011
Metropolitan Man
"What are you reading?" X-Ray was wearing a peach linen blazer.
I said, "Just seeing who's playing the Cape this week."
"Tamar Terry's at the Crab Trap."
"With her Happy Hammond," I added.
"You'll be glad to see her."
"And vice versa." I said with a wink. "What brings you to the steamy mainland?"
"Glee wants to see you." That's Glee Gleason, co-owner of Anglesea Bar and Grill. His other job is Hospitality Consultant for some Atlantic City Casinos. Nobody's sure what the job involves, but Glee meets a lot of celebrities doing it. "He says you never answer your phone."
"I forget to turn it on." I reached into the pocket of my guayabera, pulled out the cellphone. & pressed the on button. It played a few bars from "Summer Wind." "Oh yeah, there's his messages. I don't want to drive over to the island now."
"Leave the driving to me," said X-Ray. He walked over to the truck, punched a button, and the flatbed began tilting toward the ground like a ramp. He walked back to my car, reached next to the steering & put the Metropolitan in neutral. "You got your keys and wallet?"
"Yeah."
"Then relax, baby, I'm taking a scenic route." X-Ray pulled some chains off the flatbed, hooked under the front of the car, went back to truck, hit another button, a motor started up & the chains slowly winched the car on to the ramp. I put the newspaper down and sat up.
"We ever done this before?"
"You asked me that the last time we did it," said X-Ray as the car clanked level on the truck chassis. X-Ray walked around the back of the truck flipped up some wheel locks, climbed into the truck, put it in gear, drove out of the driveway, out of Blue Lagoon Trailer Park, made a left on Route 9, then a right on Wildwood Boulevard, crossed under the Garden State Parkway, heading out across the great marshes between the mainland & the sand bar holding the Wildwoods-by-the-Sea above the sea.
I said, "Just seeing who's playing the Cape this week."
"Tamar Terry's at the Crab Trap."
"With her Happy Hammond," I added.
"You'll be glad to see her."
"And vice versa." I said with a wink. "What brings you to the steamy mainland?"
"Glee wants to see you." That's Glee Gleason, co-owner of Anglesea Bar and Grill. His other job is Hospitality Consultant for some Atlantic City Casinos. Nobody's sure what the job involves, but Glee meets a lot of celebrities doing it. "He says you never answer your phone."
"I forget to turn it on." I reached into the pocket of my guayabera, pulled out the cellphone. & pressed the on button. It played a few bars from "Summer Wind." "Oh yeah, there's his messages. I don't want to drive over to the island now."
"Leave the driving to me," said X-Ray. He walked over to the truck, punched a button, and the flatbed began tilting toward the ground like a ramp. He walked back to my car, reached next to the steering & put the Metropolitan in neutral. "You got your keys and wallet?"
"Yeah."
"Then relax, baby, I'm taking a scenic route." X-Ray pulled some chains off the flatbed, hooked under the front of the car, went back to truck, hit another button, a motor started up & the chains slowly winched the car on to the ramp. I put the newspaper down and sat up.
"We ever done this before?"
"You asked me that the last time we did it," said X-Ray as the car clanked level on the truck chassis. X-Ray walked around the back of the truck flipped up some wheel locks, climbed into the truck, put it in gear, drove out of the driveway, out of Blue Lagoon Trailer Park, made a left on Route 9, then a right on Wildwood Boulevard, crossed under the Garden State Parkway, heading out across the great marshes between the mainland & the sand bar holding the Wildwoods-by-the-Sea above the sea.
Labels: Metropolitan Man
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Metropolitan Man
I recognized the sound of the X-Ray Security LLC flatbed truck turning into the sandy drive of the Blue Lagoon Trailer Park, Rio Grande NJ. I was wedged into the backseat of my car parked in front of my neat doublewide reading the free Cape May Fun Guide.
Nobody knows how I get comfortable in the backseat of my car. It's a 1960 Nash Metropolitan convertible, beige yellow with white trim & white seats. I don't like driving it during summer. I might have to park it in places people are unappreciative. I have a legal moped I never pedal. Legal except I had it modified to do 40 mph on a flat surface, & Cape May County is all flat surface.
X-Ray stopped in the road, backed the truck up my short driveway, braked, shut off the engine, & got out. I knew he was packing a Colt Commander .45 ACP. I couldn't see it, but unlike some P.I.s you read in novels, he never assumes he won't need it. In all fairness, he mostly uses it like a sap. When you ask him how he managed to get a carry permit in Jersey without owning an armored truck company and wearing a ridiculous uniform instead of the Fitzgerald Irish linen sports coats, all he says is, "It's how I do business, baby." We're old friends. Totally opposite politics, but I like to think we conduct our friendship on a higher spiritual plane. I also like his wife.
X-Ray is a large man, over 6' & I wouldn't venture a guess at his weight. His wife feeds him to be big. I am 5'6", weigh 125, & my Indian vegetarian lady doctor tells me to eat more meat. I should accept more invites to dinner at the X-Rays'.
"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson
Nobody knows how I get comfortable in the backseat of my car. It's a 1960 Nash Metropolitan convertible, beige yellow with white trim & white seats. I don't like driving it during summer. I might have to park it in places people are unappreciative. I have a legal moped I never pedal. Legal except I had it modified to do 40 mph on a flat surface, & Cape May County is all flat surface.
X-Ray stopped in the road, backed the truck up my short driveway, braked, shut off the engine, & got out. I knew he was packing a Colt Commander .45 ACP. I couldn't see it, but unlike some P.I.s you read in novels, he never assumes he won't need it. In all fairness, he mostly uses it like a sap. When you ask him how he managed to get a carry permit in Jersey without owning an armored truck company and wearing a ridiculous uniform instead of the Fitzgerald Irish linen sports coats, all he says is, "It's how I do business, baby." We're old friends. Totally opposite politics, but I like to think we conduct our friendship on a higher spiritual plane. I also like his wife.
X-Ray is a large man, over 6' & I wouldn't venture a guess at his weight. His wife feeds him to be big. I am 5'6", weigh 125, & my Indian vegetarian lady doctor tells me to eat more meat. I should accept more invites to dinner at the X-Rays'.
Labels: Metropolitan Man
