'The Ladies Man'

I wanted to write something about Jerry Lewis here, but, as it turns out, the guy is rather boring.

He is most notably one of the most well-known comedic actors of the 20th and 21st centuries. He teamed with straight man Dean Martin for years on the stage and on film. He then went solo and really made a name for himself.

Lewis was rejected for service in World War II for a heart murmur, which might have had a role in his supposed heart attacked in 1960, when he was 34, the other two heart attacks he's had since. Needless to say, had he gone into the service, if the Nazis didn't kill him, his own troops would've. No doubt he would've been incredibly obnoxious in a foxhole.

Lewis has been married twice, the first time 26 years and his sequel has lasted 19. The only bad or shocking thing I can say about the guy is that he's completely obnoxious. I can't imagine another actor out there that drives me as bananas as Lewis does with these kooky, idiotic characters, who are all easily duped and stumble into fortune or narrowly miss the disaster of death or shame.

No matter what you might think about him, Lewis seems to be a guy that's done things the right way for the vast majority of his career, which has spanned eight decades. Maybe he's loved the drugs, drink or girls (or guys), but over that length of time in his high-profile and often philanthropic image, it'd be hard to stuff all those skeletons into the closet.

I wish I could dislike Lewis as a person as much as I do a comedic actor, but it's impossible.

'The Corrections'

This was a labor of love.

I first bought this book at a used bookstore about eight or nine years ago. I went to my girlfriend's house and found that A) she wasn't home and B) I couldn't get in the house.

I don't remember why I did this or why I didn't go somewhere (which included my apartment) but I instead decided to take my new book and lounge in the back part of my vehicle and do a little light reading. Size aside, it doesn't take long to find out this isn't going to be a very easy read. Not that it addressed themes or subjects that were difficult to decipher. In the simplest way, Jonathan Franzen made this story of a somewhat dysfunctional Midwest family hard to sink your teeth into.

I think I got about 10 pages in, my girlfriend (probably) returned home and I didn't pick the book back up until this year. Then again, it's taken me, honestly, 10 months to get through this book. And it's good. Once I really got into it, I cruised through it.

However, I can't quite not think about that dumb day when I thought I'd tackle The Corrections in the back seat of my car.

Since that day, I've been to Europe twice, gotten married (to the girlfriend I was waiting on), had a child who has just turned six, gotten Franzen's latest novel for Christmas, read probably another 300 books and voted for two different presidents from two different parties.

'The Holy Bible' & 'Everything Must Go'

It's impossible to discuss Manic Street Preachers without making it about Richey Edwards.

Discussions with friends from high school always turn into a laundry list of regrets. Girls and life decisions. But mostly music and trying to figure out why we listened to what we listened to and didn't listen to all of this amazing junk that was happening all right under our noses.

Manic Street Preachers fit that mold. I love it now and there's little reason to believe I wouldn't have loved it as a teenager in the 1990s.

Edwards was the guitar player and general heart of the band. Sorta guitar player. He apparently had little musical talent and often faked the guitar in the early days. He started as a roadie and driver. He eventually became the main creative valve for the band writing most of their highly-acclaimed album, The Holy Bible.

Edwards struggled with the usual (drugs and booze) and the not-so-usual (self-cutting, depression, stabbing cigarettes out on his arm). Nothing was ever right. After his and the band's integrity were questioned by a journalist, he took a razor and cut "4Real" into his arm, requiring 18 stitches.

Six months after the release of The Holy Bible, Edwards left his hotel, took out some cash from the bank and disappeared.

His car was found abandoned near a bridge known for suicides. No body or trace of the guy was found. The band kept a portion of the royalties back in case he turned up. The family didn't officially pronounce him dead until 2002. Are they vulnerable because they're rock stars or rock stars because they're vulnerable?

In the great mystery that is rock music, fans have made the tragedy that is Richey Edwards into a chapter of enigma. Countless reports of Edwards in India and other island nations have been reported. He's like a ghost.

After he disappeared, the band took a break, nearly disbanded and then released Everything Must Go, of which five songs were written by Edwards.

‘Aladdin Sane’

Long time coming for this review. Keep listening to this album and it never strikes me as being anywhere close to my favs despite its David Bowie at his absolute prime. 

What I didn’t know is that Aladdin Sane (“A Lad Insane” … get it?) was a character, a sort of evolution of Ziggy Stardust, who actually “retired” in 1973. So, Bowie was Aladdin Sane. (Get it?) 

Bowie called Sane “Ziggy goes to America.” The album was very influenced from Bowie’s tour of the United States during his huge break out following the release of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. The grind got to him in a negative manner and he put it on vinyl. 

Bowie's sense of glam-rock schizophrenia seems doubly weird when you consider that his brother, Terry, was actually schizophrenic. You wonder if Terry had a modicum of talent if he would have been the actual better rock star. What he would have done would have been genuine, at the very least.

Aladdin Sane turned out to be one of Bowie’s best-selling albums to date (which probably wasn’t very difficult … not like he was The Beatles). 

'Solid Air'

A great album featuring one of my favorite new songs to hear during this project, “Over the Hill.” 

John Martyn was a stalwart of the British folk scene in the 1960s and you can hear that a lot on Solid Air despite being more of a mid-career album. You also hear the very distinct jazz influence. He’s a great guitar player and it shows. 

Martyn recorded another album, Grace & Danger, in the 1980s following the dissolution of his marriage. It is not on the 1,001 list, which is a shame not to be able to write about it, but it’s one of the darkest albums ever recorded. So dark, that the record company didn’t want to release, friends didn’t want to hear it, yet, Martyn calls it his favorite album considering the honestly in the songs. 

Like many, Martyn struggled with drugs and drink during his career. Later in life, it appears he didn’t take care of himself as he looks terribly overweight. Still, he recorded until his death in 2009 and even dabbled in hip-hop aesthetics. 

'Want One' & 'Want Two'

Rufus Wainwright was the first musical artist to make me say, "Man, he's gay."

It was in a review for one of his albums (it had to by his eponymous debut because it came out in 1998 and I was still in high school) and it expressly stated that Wainwright was publicly gay. I immediately sort of categorized him as a gay artist, something I hadn't necessarily done for Elton John or Freddie Mercury. Mostly because most review of Sheer Heart Attack or Caribou didn't talk about their sexual orientation as much as they did about the songs.

I don't know if Wainwright would care that a dumb hick from East Texas thought of him as a "gay artist." He'd been out of the closet since he was 14 years old. He was apparently very open with who he wanted to be intimate with.

Furthermore, if Wainwright sought to dodge the "gay" label, he's doing a pretty poor job of it. Releasing an album of Judy Garland covers does not keep you low key for very long.

Wainwright is a very successful guy. He's released numerous albums, written and opera and worked in the movies. Still, it's a man that depends on the gay community to buy his albums. By all accounts, it's a very loyal group.

'Sons Of The Desert'

I write about this film realizing that I probably like the movie posters more than I might like the actual movie. 

However, that’s just the nature of the film poster of the 1930s and that should not take away from the fact that I enjoyed this very much. 

Despite the physical, sophomoric nature of the comedy, I found myself laughing throughout and I really think that Stan Laurel (who is actually an Englishman) is one of the funniest men to walk this Earth. His scene eating the fake fruit is quite funny. 

 Both guys started in show business in their teens, Laurel in Scotland and Hardy in Georgia. Hardy particularly was successful in the early years of film making more than 300 shorts. Only about 150 still survive. 

They first acted together in The Lucky Dog in 1921 and they both signed with Hal Roach later on. Six years later, Roach had teamed them and made them into the duo that they would become for 20 years. 

Their final film was Atoll K, released in 1951. It was hampered with language barriers and the declining health of Laurel (61 at the time) and Hardy (59 … a hard 59). 

At his death, Hardy weighed 138 pounds and had several strokes. He died in 1957 and Laurel lasted until 1965. 

They filmed hundreds of films together (short- and long-form) and about three are considered lost, meaning they’ve haven’t been seen in 80 years. 

The International Laurel & Hardy Appreciation Society is named "Sons of the Desert."