Blogabillies

Britney Shaved Again

by T-Bone

First she's marrying guys for a week at a stretch, then having babies, then running around LA with no undies but his time, it's her head that's shaved. I know it's hard to keep up with the sad demise of Anna Nicole Smith, but now we've got Britney to keep track of too.

Is Britney Spears having just a little bit of an identity crisis, or is she just imitating crazy for the PR?

Maybe she's just working a new publicity angle that is as old as the nine commandments (the one about lusting after your neighbor's farm animal got Pluto'd, I hear): It doesn't matter what they say about you as long as they spell your name right. That's Britney with one 't'. Got it?

Is it just me ,or does Britney have a fixation on Sinead O'Connor and Demi Moore? Both shaved, one posed preggers on a mag cover. But neither hang with Paris Hilton and both wear underwear (last time I checked). Britney 12, SineadDemi 7.

If girls just want to have fun, Britney is having more than her share. She is a human billboard for having too much time and money in your pants.

Did I mention that Britney is Southern? Never would have guessed, would you?

Maybe she's got a new CD coming out. Let me guess the title: "I Made Too Much Too Fast And Since The Talent Thing Is Iffy At Best, I Need To Crank Up The Face Time Harder Than Prince In A Bad Doo-Rag And A Penis-Shaped Guitar Because I'm Feeling A Little Like Karl Rove Trying To Get Into A Hillary Clinton Fundraiser  These Days So I'm Yanking Off My Panties And My Hair And Hoping People Keep Looking At Me Like A Celebrity Wreck On The Freeway – Oh And I Hate You Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood And Girl, You Know I Hate You, Christina Aguilera."

I am afraid what will happen next. But one thing's for sure -- we can't look away.

Do you Squidoo? We do!

Have you discovered Squidoo yet? The cyberchild of marketing guru and bestselling author Seth Godin, Squidoo is part blog, part personal Web site, part e-commerce portal, and part .... Well, just look at the official definition:

Squidoo: SKWID-OO, n. v., adj., addiction. 1) thousands of people creating a handbuilt catalog of the best stuff online; 2) a free and fun way to make your own page and get traffic; 3) a place to find what you're looking for, fast.

T-Bone's tribute to one of his favorite bands, Drive-By Truckers, was originally posted on Squidoo. Our page there is a work in progress, and we'll be adding more content and links in the coming weeks. If you like the stuff here on Blogabillies, then click on over to our Squidoo lens, Southern Writers and Humorists, where you can find links to the Truckers' music online, and other fun stuff.

Check it out. Once you do ... you'll Squidoo too!

Crank up Your iPod and Aim it South

by T-Bone

Some old people down home tell me that Greg and Duane are somewhere in our family tree. If not, I'd like to invite them personally. What would it be worth to watch Duane Allman, one more time, shut his eyes and play his guitar like a man who knew he would die violently? You can't say you wouldn't pinch off a few Andrew Jacksons to hear Stevie Ray Vaughn squeeze sweet Jesus out of that steel axe again.

Like so many Southern teenagers in the 1970s, I was in bands - and I still have the hair and scars and memories to prove it. So it stands to reason that we should burn some good verbiage about Southern music. It's one of the few parts of the South that seems to have escaped stereotyping by people who think they know better, the other one being food. There are more than a few legendary Southern bands and I don't need to name them. You know who they are. But if you don't know the Drive-By Truckers, you need to crank up your iPod and aim it south.

If you have ever sweated or been in love or drunk or drove too fast on an Alabama back road or dodged beer bottles in front or behind a chicken-wired stage, you need to listen to these descendants of Ronnie Van Zant riffs and Dickey Betts' red guitar; they can make your iTunes smoke like it was 1972 all over again. It's hard. It's rock. It's Southern.

I am listening to their iconic Southern Rock Opera as I write this. It helps me remember why I love the South and love this band's music. The words are not just props for the tunes. The words do some heavy lifting. This band knows their history ­ - shared history that I can appreciate.

Looking out the window, the trees are getting closer it seems
These angels I see in the trees are waiting for me
Angels and fuselage

Southern rockers are not just good at writing music and singing it. They're good at dying while doing it. Too many have done just that. My father worked in Andalusia with a man who started the trend of living fast, dying young and leaving a good-looking corpse: Hank Williams. I have the “duality of the Southern thing” soaked, smoked and bred into me.

The Drive-By Truckers pour out the kind of music that plays in the backgrounds of a lot of Southern lives. It's not always pretty or clean or right. But it's always real. It faces up to the truth of who we are and why we are and where we came from. It sounds good woven between two guitars and a broken heart. And who can't understand that.

Slim Whitman Returns After 10 Years!

by Belle

In an earlier post I described our Christmas tradition of regifting Slim Whitman recordings and memorabilia and promised to update y'all on where I found Slim under the tree this year. Well, Christmas has come and gone, and while a number of SW items were opened and enjoyed, none of the techniques used to disguise Slim were particularly memorable.

All that changed when the mail came yesterday. I got a small package from a friend I hadn't heard from in a while, and tucked inside some tissue paper was a Slim Whitman cassette with a Post-it note attached - in my handwriting - dated 1996!

The card my friend included said, "This has been in my Christmas box for many years now. I remember the custom was to pass it on, so I thought you might enjoy having it back ..."

Yes! That totally unexpected little pleasure was what we had not been able to capture in our Christmas giving this year; the ritual had become somewhat tired and predictable. But opening that padded envelope and discovering a Slim Whitman cassette I'd given away ten years ago - now, that was fun.

Thanks, Suzann. You absolutely made my day!

Cell Phone Songulation

by T-Bone

I have discovered that the best way to learn to hate your favorite song is to make it the ringer on your cell phone. I had no idea this kind of Pavlovian thing could happen. I used to love the music theme from Braveheart, then I made it my ringer. With each call I began to feel like William Wallace when Longshanks’ executioner was boiling his intestines: “Freeeeeeeeeeeedom!” I had to lose the song.

I searched around for another song I was positive I’d never tire of and found it. “Papa Was a Rolling Stone,” by the Temptations. Anyone who knows me knows this is my absolute favorite song of all time. I slugged that ditty into my cell and enjoyed the first fifty or so calls. Hundreds of calls later, Papa feels like he has a kidney stone. I am distraught.

Clearly, I suffer from cell phone songulation. I am not about to put another favorite song into the darned thing because it is the best way to make my tunes feel like a cheese grater raking across my butt. I am thinking of just going back to the basic bell. I cannot subject my music to such torturous execution.

If you have this problem, write us about it. Tell us your favorite song and how you learned to hate it.

Talkin' 'bout my g-g-generation

by T-Bone

I turned 50 today.

I already got the letter last month - the solicitation from AARP. Tossed it as fast as I could. But now I'm rethinking my membership in the Nastiest Generation and possibly the AARP as well. My G-g-g-generation now means sales, profits and rock n' roll, baby.

Been doing a little research on AARP, a 37-million-strong group that is cranking up some ferocious fuzz box feedback. Who'd have ever thought this group would be sponsoring the devil's music? Yet here they are, cutting music and concert deals with rock bands and people like James Taylor and Elton John, Earth, Wind and Fire – and more are coming. $750, anyone, to see Barbra sing and insult a fake George Bush on stage?

I've Got a Thang for Slim Whitman

by Belle

Christmas Eve, 1984. My sister and I are in Target, shopping for a few last-minute items. Very last-minute, because our family opens gifts on Christmas Eve. We split the shopping list in half and head in different directions, agreeing to meet in 20 minutes.

I weave my cart through the crowded aisles, tuning out the tinny-sounding carols blaring on the loudspeakers, trying not to roll over any stray toes belonging to shoppers vying for the last rolls of Scotch tape, and focusing on the task at hand. When all the items are scratched off my list, I breathe a sigh of relief, wheel around an end-cap display of holiday music, and stop.

Something has caught my eye - something that just might be perfect for my sister. I stand there, eyeing the record album, toying with the idea of buying it, even though I'd already finished my shopping for Laurie days earlier.