'Careless Whisper'

Lately I've been checking out ridiculous covers on YouTube. I ask you: Is there a better cover song than "Careless Whisper?" You tell me. I have done the hard work of going through every "Careless Whisper" cover on the YouTubes for you. Here is the best one, ready for your enjoyment. (Although what is my favorite cabaret singer doing with Ben Folds? I thought he just had that one abortion song.)




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Happy birthday, Parker Jr.

'Footballers' Wives'

I'm a little late to the "Footballers' Wives" party, unfortunately, but I have been making up for it with an almost slavish devotion. It cheers me to know that the British are even better at making trashy TV than we are. (I say that in awe.)

I was looking for something to replace "The L Word," the super tacky Showtime lesbian drama that I have watched faithfully for a few years but that has added too many characters who aren't the least bit fun to watch. Not so with "Footballers' Wives"! If "The L Word" is a candy bar, "Footballers' Wives" is mainlining insulin.

The show ran from 2002-2006 and follows the WAGs (wives and girlfriends) of Earl's Park, a fictional Premiereship team in London. (I got through the first season without realizing that they were saying "earl's" and not "ells.") The main character is Tanya Turner, the blonde, brittle ice queen who is the wife of the slutty team captain Jason Turner.

I cannot say enough about Tanya Turner. I love her so much. I didn't watch "Dynasty" in the '80s, but if I had I imagine that I would have felt the same for Alexis Carrington Colby. Tanya is so scheming yet transparent that you can't help but root for her. Whether she's snorting coke in a ladies' room stall, hiring a body double to do her community service or quoting Robbie Williams during a eulogy, she does it all with fabulous frosty eye makeup and a cheap golddigger wardrobe straight out of the back pages of the Victoria's Secret catalog.

What I love the most about "Footballers' Wives," aside from the trashtastic Tanya, is that it just abandons any pretense of keeping up storylines. Characters — even central characters — are dumped without a hint of explanation or killed off unceremoniously. And thank God. Can someone please do this to Eva Longoria Parker? Every time I get sick of a character he or she conveniently gets traded to another team or dies of anorexia. And nothing is off limits when it comes to advancing the plot: Hermaphrodites, sex with unconscious people, strap-ons, and pedestrian topics like kidnapping, the mile-high club and bribery have all made appearances.

I'd write more, but I have to find out what happened to the rookie and his new bride after they crash landed a hot-air balloon.

'Daddy's Cup'

I really wish that I was savvy enough to put an MP3 player on this site, but, alas, I'm not. So you guys are going to have to hang in there with me.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of Drive-By Truckers because they're going to be here in a couple of weeks. (Finally!) I love all of their songs, but this is far and away my favorite. It is better than almost any short story I've ever read. There's a reason why Mike Cooley and Patterson Hood are the best songwriters in the business today.



In case you can't make it out, with apologies for the extra long post.

Before I could walk, I had a wrench in my hand
I was my Mama's little angel and my Daddy's second chance
He went end over end the first year he went pro
Lost part of his eyesight and he couldn't race no more

But he never lost his touch when he got underneath the hood
He knew how to make them run and he knew one day he would
See his name in victory lane and engraved on that cup
Just like all them other crazy fools with racing in their blood

He would put me on his lap when he'd drive and I'd take the wheel
He'd say "What do you think about that son? How does she feel?
You just wait till them little legs get long enough to reach the gas
Once you put her on the floor one time there ain't no turning back"

Every Saturday, he'd take me out to the garage
He'd take an empty bucket and fill it full of engine parts
He's sit me down and pour em out in front of me on the floor
I'd have to tell him what each one was and what each one was for

We'd jump into the car and go down to the race that night
He'd tell me what each driver was doing wrong and what each one did right
He could always pick the winner before they ever took a curve
#3 might have the car but 43 has got the nerve

Before I turned 18 Daddy said "Now pretty soon
You'll be old enough to drive but I'll leave it up to you
I taught you all about it, taught you everything I know
You gotta have a car to do it and you gotta work and buy your own"

The first one I bought was a Mustang #2
Nobody kept'em any longer than they kept a pair of shoes
They started showing up at every used car lot in town
A V-8 on a go-cart, easy terms, no money down

Me and Daddy and my uncle took her home and tore her down
Checked her out real good, cleaned her up and bored her out
Took out all the seats, pulled the carpet off the floor
Knocked out all the glass and welded up the doors

The first time that I raced my qualifying was a shame
I started out way in the back and came back about the same
I pulled her in the pit, couldn't look my Daddy in the eye
He said "If you quit now son, it's gonna haunt you all your life"

It ain't about the money or even being #1
You gotta know when it's all over you did the best you could've done
Knowing that it's in you and you never let it out
Is worse than blowing any engine or any wreck you'll ever have

Since then I've wrecked a bunch of cars and I've broke a bunch of bones
It's anybody's race out there and I've learned to race my own
I'd shove em in the wall and I'd hit em from behind
I'd let them know that I was there, I'd let them know that track was mine

It's been several years now since my Daddy passed away
But his picture's on my dash every time I go to race
I lost more than I won but I ain't gonna give up
Till they put me in the ground or Daddy's name's on that cup

The Hopemonger

This morning, I listened to Barack Obama speak at a rally. In Boise!

Everything I had heard — and hoped — is true. He really IS that cool: incredibly eloquent, amazingly magnetic, absolutely inspiring and very dynamic. He was funny, he was stylish, he was handsome, he was intelligent, he was on message. He played Stevie Wonder and the Chi-Lites. He was, in a word, cool.

We waited in line for 45 minutes to get a seat, and there were thousands of people who lined up in 25-degree weather with us. The 12,000-seat venue was standing room only, and they had to set up speakers outside so that the overflow crowd could hear. This is unheard of in Idaho. The last time we had a major political figure give a stump speech here was in the 1970s when Frank Church ran against Jimmy Carter in the primary. And he was a native.

I'm going to caucus for Obama on Tuesday. I know it sounds corny, but I am incredibly excited to do this. Everyone always talks about the Kennedys and how they felt about JFK or Bobby. I didn't think that would ever come along in my generation. I thought that maybe we were all too cynical for someone like that, and who could ever have that much charisma? But this may be the guy. If he loses on Tuesday it won't be for lack of trying, but if he loses we will be missing the greatest opportunity to change the status quo in the last 45 years.