The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

In my "Album of the Week" sermon, I mentioned that as of this morning, I still didn't know what I wanted to focus on.  The same is true of this "Film of the Week" sermon.  I don't know why this particular film popped into my head less than an hour before I started writing this.  But I thought, since nothing else was jumping out at me, that I should just roll with it.  I'm sure I could come up with some reason as to why this film popped into my head, but it would just be a rationalization.  And as I learned from this movie, rationalizations are more important than sex.

Anyway... rolling with it...

My first exposure to this week's film came, weirdly enough, through its soundtrack album.  Like a lot of people I think that it was one of the greatest soundtracks of the 1980s--possibly of all time--filled with great songs from the 1960s.  It may have even been my first real exposure to the music of Motown.

Michael (Jeff Goldblum):  Harold, don't you have any other music?  You know, from this century?

Harold (Kevin Kline):  There is no other music.  Not in my house.

Michael:  There's been a lot of terrific music in the last ten years.

Harold:  Like what?

When I was in high school, my dad knew a guy who could get him movies (VHS tapes in those days) cheap.  Needless to say, our home movie library was pretty impressive.  (I like to think mine still is.)  This was one of my parents' favourites (probably why they had the soundtrack album).  The week Dad got it, we all sat down to watch it.  There were a number of jokes that my parents just assumed I wouldn't get because I was not of their generation, and I still take a lot of pride in the fact that they seriously underestimated me.  The look on Mom's face when she realized I knew who "Huey and Bobby" were still makes me laugh.  I wish I had a photo of that moment.

In spite of that, even though I liked it okay, the film didn't resonate with me like it did with them.  I had to watch it again in college for a class I was taking on the history of the American family.  Like my initial viewing, I enjoyed it, but it didn't speak to me like it did for Mom and Dad.  If I had to guess, I would imagine that they would say that it was because I didn't grow up in the 1960s.

After they died, when I was in my mid-40s, I found their DVD of the movie and I watched it again.  I realized that I didn't identify with the film in high school and college not because I hadn't grown up in the 1960s, but because I hadn't grown up.  Watching it again, I found myself overcome with emotion at multiple points in the film.  One of the most beautiful things about this movie--other than the tremendous script and the amazing cast--is the fact that even though it centers on a group of baby boomers, it's applicable to multiple generations.

The story involves a group of seven friends who had been close at college in the late 1960s.  They've come together roughly fifteen years later for the funeral of an eighth friend who had recently taken his own life.  The group decides to reunite for the weekend and reconnect.  During those few days, they find themselves examining their lives since college and realizing how truly important they were to each other, then and now.  As the tagline to the movie says, "In a cold world, you need your friends to keep you warm."

Directed and co-written by Lawrence Kasdan, the film starred Tom Berenger, Glenn Close, Jeff Goldblum, William Hurt, Kevin Kline, Mary Kay Place, Meg Tilly, and JoBeth Williams.  You can also see Kevin Costner's shin, wrist, and hairline--he was originally cast as their dead friend, but his scenes were cut from the final film and just those brief parts of him in the casket are all that remain.  Released in 1983, the movie garnered three Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Original Screenplay (Kasdan and Barbara Benedek), and Best Supporting Actress (Close).  It's with a profound urge to re-watch this film that this week I recommend The Big Chill.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I thought of submitting this album late last year or even earlier this year but didn't for one reason or another.  I've been focused on other things this week (so much so, that I initially typed "focusted") and hadn't really given a lot of thought as to which album to highlight until today.  I just knew I wanted it to be different from my last album selection--which was pretty different on its own.

So, kind of at the last minute, I chose this week's album.  It was one of my favourites to be released in 2024 and I'm kind of surprised, in retrospect, that I didn't highlight it earlier.  While doing some basic research on it, such as when it was released (20 September, 2024) and how high the album got on the charts (sadly, it didn't), I discovered that the artist will be NINETY YEARS OLD on Monday (31 March).  Admittedly, I see more and more performers making it into their nineties these days--certainly more so than I did when I was a kid--so the concept of someone that old in the entertainment industry isn't as surprising as it used to be.  But at the same time, you don't see too many of them releasing new albums.

I feel kind of bad for him because I think when most people--especially people my age--think of his music, we tend to write it off as almost elevator music.  Admittedly, when listening to it one can feel like a contestant on "The Dating Game."  It's got a light jazz quality to it that would not be out of place at a 1960s cocktail party hosted by Ward Cleaver.  But, in spite of that, I think it's really good elevator/game show/cocktail party music.  Sure, it's a little corny.  It's a little cheesy.  But it is done well.  I like to think of it as a musical palate cleanser.  In spite of the wide variety of music I listen to, I do tend to be a bit "classic rock" oriented.  It's kind of my go-to genre of music when I need to listen to music.  I'm intimately familiar with it, it's comforting.  But sometimes you can get stuck in a musical rut and need something different.  This week's artist is really good for that.

As I said, this week's album--in spite of its inability to resonate with anyone that doesn't listen to NPR--was one of my favourites of last year.  I was particularly surprised by his covers of such early rock classics as "Sh-Boom," "Are You Lonesome Tonight," and (one of my favourite instrumentals of all time) Santo & Johnny's "Sleepwalk."  In honour of Herb Alpert's 90th birthday, please enjoy his most recent album, 50.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

A Shout Into the Void (I'm Not Talking About Hate)...

I woke up this morning to a horrifying thought.  Why it took me nine years to figure this out I'll never know (quick study I am), but it's been kind of depressing me all day.

Most of us probably have inside jokes and "traditions," for lack of a better word, with various people in our lives.  When they're no longer with us, those jokes and traditions can no longer be shared and/or exchanged.

I discovered today that if I say something into a walkie-talkie, the person on the other end would have no clue what I'm talking about, let alone how to respond properly.

 

So I'll throw this out into the void and hope it reaches the right soul somewhere out in the ether:

"White Lightning, White Lightning, this is Ground Beef Control.  Do you read me?  Over..."

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

There is apparently a Chinese curse that says, "May you live in interesting times."  I say "apparently" because there is some debate on the origin, interpretation, and meaning of that statement.  Without getting too political, I also find it interesting that China is one of the myriad elements out there that makes our times "interesting."  While it's certainly not dull, it is kind of hard to look at what's going on in the world these days and not feel like we are cursed to some degree.  As a self-professed cynic, I have been a keen observer of humanity for the better part of thirty years now and I can honestly say--again, without getting too political--that I'm pretty sure we've brought these interesting times on ourselves.

I miss being surprised.  I miss being shocked.  No matter how outrageous the news sounds these days, when I hear it I think, "Yeah, that figures."  I recently saw a meme that said the satirical newspaper The Onion (their motto--"Tu Stultus Es") is shutting down because they can no longer come up with headlines crazier than reality.  And while I don't believe this is actually happening (particularly since I still get their newsletter in my email), I don't think I would be that surprised if they did.  Sometimes I think that the only thing that still truly surprises me is that we're still alive as a species.

Of course, it's easy to forget that most times are "interesting" to some degree.  There's always something occurring that freaks the hell out of a group of people because it doesn't fit their little paradigm of how things should be.  I've been hearing the same thing since Bill Clinton's impeachment--"What will we tell the children?"  As someone who's been accused more than once of being a bad influence on children, I honestly don't have a good answer.  I guess it's a good thing I don't have kids of my own.

Children fascinate me.  They scare the crap out of me in groups of more than four, especially without adult accompaniment (a condition I've dubbed "rugratophobia"), but they do fascinate me nonetheless.  They're incredibly impressionable yet, at the same time, incredibly observant.  As a former child myself, I genuinely believe they observe and understand much more than adults tend to give them credit for--even during interesting times.  But as a current adult, even if I am a bad influence, I still instinctively want to protect them from the horrors of the world.

I look at what's going on both in this country and abroad and sometimes wonder what the children must think of us.  How many of them must think, "Why does Mommy no longer have a job?"  "Why can't we have eggs for breakfast?"  "Are we going to have to move away from my friends?"  "Why is that man holding up a chainsaw that he doesn't seem to know how to start, let alone operate?"  And those are just what I imagine kids in this country are thinking.  In other countries I assume they think things like, "Why don't I have a Mommy anymore?"  "I'm hungry.  Why can't I have breakfast?"  "Why do those planes keep dropping bombs?"  "Why was my house blown up?"  "Why do those people want to shoot me?"  "Who is that scary looking man with a chainsaw?"  And I still don't know what to tell these children.  I just hope that they forgive us when they grow up... assuming we allow them to do so.

As I said earlier, it's easy to forget that these particular times are not unique to history, which just proves the old adage that those who don't study history are doomed to repeat it... while those who do study history are forced to watch helplessly as those who don't study it repeat the mistakes of the past.  Valid or not, a lot of parallels have been drawn between the present day and what was going on eighty and ninety years ago.  I find myself thinking about the children who lived through that time and what their parents had to struggle to tell them.

This week's film is a look at World War II through the eyes of a ten-year-old boy who (SPOILER ALERT!) is on the losing side.  Jojo Betzler (played by Roman Griffin Davis) wants nothing more than to be a good German and serve his country and "Der Führer" who also happens to be his imaginary friend (yes, there are a lot of "dark comedy" elements to the film).  Without giving anything away--although the movie's trailer kind of does that--Jojo discovers that his mother (Scarlett Johansson in an Oscar nominated performance) is keeping a dangerous secret that could bring about tragic consequences.  The film walks a fine line between heartbreaking and uplifting--a difficult line to walk, but it does it beautifully.

What really impressed me about it was its use of music.  While set in Germany during the last year of World War II, most of the songs used in the film were actually written decades later.  And in most of those cases, we get to hear artists like Roy Orbison, David Bowie, and even The Beatles singing in German.

Taika Waititi wrote this film, winning the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay (based on Christine Leunens's book Caging Skies).  Anyone who knows Taika Waititi knows it's not enough for him to just write it--he also directed it and starred as Adolf Hitler (Jojo's imaginary friend).  Rounding out the cast are Rebel Wilson, Stephen Merchant, Alfie Allen, Archie Yates, and the great Sam Rockwell whose performance (I feel) was seriously overlooked by the Academy.  Released in 2019 and nominated for a total of six Academy Awards including Best Picture, this week I recommend Jojo Rabbit.

Due to family commitments, there will be no album or film recommendation next week.  Until I return, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I need to clarify something from the start of this week's "sermon."  I am categorically against and in no way condone the skinning of cats.  I'm sure it's considered inhumane in today's society and I don't understand why anyone would want to.  But, as I understand it, there is more than one way to do so.  Like cat-skinning, I've found that most things that are done in life can be done in multiple ways and yield the same result--including developing a better analogy to describe how there isn't just one way to do something.  I've found an important skill in life (at least my own) is the ability to see things from as many angles as possible.  It gives you a broader perspective and, hopefully, a deeper understanding of whatever situation is confronting you in the moment.

The same applies to music.  Just because a song is written by a particular person or originally performed in a certain style doesn't mean that's the only way it can be done (whether or not anyone should do it is another issue that I won't attempt to broach here).  If you've ever heard Frank Zappa's cover of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" you know what I'm talking about.  He took a country classic, combined elements of reggae and drunken karaoke, and synthesized it into something that was uniquely Frank.

With the advent of social media, we see this more and more.  One of my favourite YouTube channels is of Ally the Piper who adds bagpipes to both classic and contemporary songs.  The bagpipe is tied with the piano as my favourite musical instrument, so I'm a little biased.  But when I hear some of those songs, I frequently wonder why they didn't have a piper on them originally.  In fact, I thought that what she added to the Fox NFL theme was such a drastic improvement that if Fox wanted to adopt it, I might actually tune into a football game once in awhile... okay, likely not, but at least I would have a reason to do so.

Perhaps the best example I can give of this is the music of Hank Williams (Sr.).  He was to country music what Robert Johnson was to the blues.  When we look at "standards" or the "Great American Songbook," we typically think of such songwriters as George and Ira Gershwin, Hoagy Carmichael, Irving Berlin, Harold Arlen, Johnny Mercer, and E.Y. "Yip" Harburg.  But I think an argument can be made for including Williams in that list.  Over the last three quarters of a century, his "country" songs have been covered by a range of distinctly "non-country" artists including Tony Bennett, Norah Jones, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, George Thorogood & The Destroyers, Huey Lewis & The News, Ray Charles, Keith Richards (with and without The Rolling Stones), Tom Petty, Mark Knopfler, and Sheryl Crow, just to name a few.  My definition of a "standard" is a song that transcends genre and can be re-interpreted in another style while still retaining the essence of its original composition.  Williams's songs have clearly done that and continue to do so to this day.

I've always had a great admiration for people who can listen to a song performed one way and hear it in their head in a completely different way.  Personally, I've always wanted to perform "We'll Meet Again"--Dame Vera Lynn's World War II era classic, written by Ross Parker and Hughie Charles--as a lounge act, complete with a slinky bass line, rhythmic finger snapping, and occasionally punctuated with "Thank you very much!" and "You're a lovely crowd tonight."  Of course, at the end of the song, I would feel compelled to point out, "I'll be here all week.  Don't forget to tip your servers--good night, everybody!"

Many years ago, while in the music department at Barnes & Noble, a then-new release crossed my path that really drove the point home to me that there are, in fact, multiple ways to interpret something.  A Canadian band called Luther Wright & The Wrongs released an album that was a cover of Pink Floyd's landmark album The Wall.  Not just a song from the album, but they re-recorded the entire album.  At first glance, this may seem trite and even unoriginal.  But then I listened to it.  I was both highly amused and blown away to discover I was listening to a bluegrass rendition of a Pink Floyd album.  So this week, in honour of seeing (and hearing) different perspectives, as well as broadening horizons, from 2001, please enjoy Luther Wright & The Wrongs with Rebuild the Wall.

Due to family commitments, there will be no album or film recommendation next week.  Until I return, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if you don't eat your chicken, you can't have any meat.  How can you have any meat if you don't eat your chicken?

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

A few weeks back, I wrote about seeing actors I like in something different.  I enjoy watching actors branch out from what they're known for and not get typecast.  Even if the film isn't the most commercially successful, I like seeing them do something outside what I believe to be their audience's comfort zone.

I first remember seeing Chris Evans as skateboarding action star Lucas Lee in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.  Immediately after that he became Captain America and, as a part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, became a massive star raking in billions of dollars at the box office.  And in spite of the fact that Steve Rogers passed his star-spangled vibranium shield on to Sam Wilson a.k.a. Falcon (played by the great Anthony Mackie), when you hear the name Captain America... let's be honest... we still picture Evans as Rogers.  In fact I'm willing to bet that when most people hear the name "Chris Evans," the first thing they think of is Steve Rogers, Captain America, and the MCU (although there was a student in my class named Chris Evans so I tend to think of him first).

In fact, I only recently realized that Captain America was not the first Marvel super hero that Evans portrayed onscreen.  Even before he did Scott Pilgrim, he played Johnny Storm in the first two Fantastic Four films, which I've still never seen.  (SPOILER ALERT:  I did enjoy Evans's cameo as Storm in last summer's epic Deadpool & Wolverine.  I won't elaborate further as there was a lot to unpack in that film.)  Between Cap and Scott Pilgrim, and discovering that he had been in Marvel movies before, I immediately began to associate Evans with big budget action films based on comic books.  And we won't even get into last fall's Red One, which I did thoroughly enjoy, but it was another big action film with a lot of CGI, this time with a holiday feel.

When I see so many of these films, I really want to see these actors in something other than another action film.  I like to see them stretch a bit.  And I've been really impressed by some of the non-super-hero films that Evans has done over the last decade and a half.  This week's film is one of my favourites of his and I think he did an amazing job with it.

In this movie, Evans plays Frank, a boat mechanic who is essentially acting as a single parent to his niece Mary (played by McKenna Grace).  When he enrolls her in school, it becomes apparent to Mary's teacher Bonnie (Jenny Slate) that Mary is a gifted student who is probably too advanced for the class.  In spite of this, Frank wants Mary to have a normal childhood--something he believes his late sister and Mary's mother would have wanted.  Eventually, word gets to Frank's mother (Lindsay Duncan) about what's going on and she decides she wants custody of her granddaughter in order to help Mary reach her full potential.

This is one of those little, under-the radar kind of movies that I'm proud to say I actually got to see in a theater when it was initially released in 2017.  Written by Tom Flynn, directed by Marc Webb, and co-starring the great Octavia Spencer, this week I recommend Gifted.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I apologize in advance.  This week's album choice is predictable and, honestly, an excuse for me to be pedantic and act like I know more than certain news organizations (specifically CBS... again!).

This week, as you likely heard, Carl Dean, Dolly Parton's husband of almost 59 years, passed away at the age of 82.  Given that Dolly Parton is a national treasure, I believe I speak for an entire nation when I say that our thoughts and prayers are with her at this time (which sounds cheesy and even a little sarcastic, but it's true).  They met at the Wishy Washy Laundromat (I just love saying that name) the day she moved to Nashville in 1964.  They were married in 1966 and the rest is history.  He preferred to stay out of the limelight and good for him for being able to do it all those years while being married to... well... Dolly Figgin' Parton!

So... my issue with the news... when the story broke this week, the news organizations led into the story with Dolly's 1974 song "I Will Always Love You."  (That's right--it's Dolly's song.  Whitney Houston can suck it!  Yeah, I said it...)  And while that's a nice sentiment for a marriage that lasted nearly six decades, and while Dolly even said it herself in a post a couple days later in which she thanked everyone for their well wishes, the song had nothing to do with Carl Dean.  In fact, as of this Friday, she's already recorded a song for Dean (which is included below as well--have a tissue on hand, it's a tear-jerker)..

She wrote the song in 1973 for Porter Wagoner.  She had been on his television show since 1967 and she wrote it for him when she decided to pursue a solo career.  It actually topped the country charts twice--in June of 1974 and again in October of 1982 when she re-recorded it for the soundtrack to the film The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas in which she starred alongside Burt Reynolds and Dom DeLuise.

Because of that rather horrendous oversight, I thought I'd submit this week's album as a more fitting tribute to Carl Dean.  Personally I think the best tributes are given when the person is still alive.

A couple of years back, in spite of having an amazingly successful career in country music, Dolly was inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Initially, she turned down the honour since she was not particularly known for rock music (although I always thought that "9 to 5" sounded like a rock/pop song).  She eventually accepted and, likely in response to that, she recorded a rock album.  It was "Dedicated to My Loving Husband Carl Dean" and one song, a cover of Heart's "Magic Man," not only features Ann Wilson but is listed on the album as "Magic Man (Carl's Version)."  Apparently he was a huge fan of the genre and listened to it all the time.  I guess in their marriage she was a little bit country and he was a little bit rock and roll.  In addition to Wilson, a number of classic rock artists appeared on the album such as John Fogerty, Steve Perry, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, Elton John, and both surviving Beatles, just to name a few.  A number of contemporary artists also made appearances including Brandi Carlile, P!nk, Chris Stapleton, Lizzo, and goddaughter Miley Cyrus.

So this week, in honour of Carl Dean, please enjoy Dolly Parton with her 2023 album, Rockstar.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents a Bonus Album of the Week!

"When I say I'm in love, you'd best believe I'm in LUV, L-U-V!"

--The New York Dolls, "Looking For a Kiss," 1973

I could have done this next week.  I probably should wait since I'm still kind of mentally and emotionally processing it.  But I was presented with some information this morning from "CBS Sunday Morning" that... well... frankly, kind of spoiled my day.  This morning, during the weekly "Passage: In Memoriam" segment highlighting those we lost in the past week, I was stunned to see that David Johansen had died this past Friday at the age of 75.  As I've said before, I don't normally get bent out of shape over celebrity deaths unless the celebrity in question created a body of work that somehow left a lasting and profound impression on me.  I guess I never realized until now how much his work has affected me over the last 35 years.  And, aside from a handful of rock snobs who are geekier than I am about it, I'm sure most people my age and certainly younger wouldn't have the first clue who David Johansen was.

In the mid- to late-1980s, I would occasionally see this lounge singer in a pompadour and tuxedo on late night television who called himself Buster Poindexter.  He had a hit in 1987 with a song called "Hot Hot Hot" (a cover of a calypso song by an artist named Arrow).  When I saw him perform it (or any other song, for that matter), I really dug it.  It was different from the pop stuff I was hearing on contemporary radio, which I always appreciated.  When I was in college, I found a copy of his self-titled album (I believe at Best Buy, which used to have an amazing selection of music).  Remembering how much I enjoyed him in the past, I bought the album.  As is usually the case in these situations, I found that the big hit from the album wasn't even my favourite song on it.  I fell in love with that album and listened to it repeatedly throughout college.  I still do.

After I graduated, I explored more of Poindexter's catalogue.  After some research on my part (and picking up two more albums--because it's always good to have some lounge music for variety), I discovered that Buster Poindexter's real name was David Johansen.  He had also recorded a number of albums under his own name in the late 1970s and early 1980s and before that, he fronted a group called The New York Dolls, a proto-glam-punk outfit that was around before words like "glam" and "punk" existed in the musical vernacular.  I heard the Dolls' song "Personality Crisis" on a various artists compilation CD that I got from a magazine.  What I loved about it was that Johansen's vocals worked in both a loungey (if that's even a word) context as well as in punk rock.  I found that he was just as adept at other genres of music including blues, and folk.  He could sing the hell out of a good torch song.  If nothing else, it encouraged me to get the Dolls' first album.

The Dolls were the epitome of sex, drugs, and rock and roll--so much so that their original drummer, Billy Murcia, drowned in a bathtub after overdosing on pills before the group even recorded their first album.  Neither of their first two albums (released in 1973 and 1974 respectively) were very successful, so Mercury Records dropped them from the label shortly thereafter.  The band fell apart after that.  And even though they never had any kind of chart success, they left a lasting influence on future generations of musicians.  Today their albums are considered rock classics.

It wasn't until Morrissey (one of their biggest fans) managed to reunite the three surviving members--Johansen, guitarist Sylvain Sylvain, and bassist Arthur "Killer" Kane--to perform at his Meltdown Festival in London in June of 2004.  A month later, Kane died very suddenly shortly after being diagnosed with leukemia.  In 2006, Johansen and Sylvain released the first New York Dolls album in 32 years, One Day It Will Please Us To Remember Even This.  They released two more albums in 2009 and 2011 before finally disbanding.  Sylvain died in 2021, leaving Johansen the last original member of the group.

Johansen didn't stop there.  He also acted in a number of films, most notably as the taxi driving Ghost of Christmas past in the 1988 movie Scrooged with Bill Murray.  The two clearly had a friendship as Murray also appeared as a bartender in the "Hot Hot Hot" video.  Johansen returned the favour in 2015 playing a bartender in Murray's Netflix holiday special, A Very Murray Christmas. (And he led the cast in a rendition of  "Fairytale of New York" that made me openly weep the last time I watched it.)

In 2023, Martin Scorsese directed a documentary about Johansen called Personality Crisis:  One Night Only that chronicled his recent performance at the Café Carlyle in New York.  In it he discusses what it's like to be both David Johansen and Buster Poindexter.

Ultimately, when I hear Johansen's music--both with the New York Dolls and as Buster Poindexter--it takes me back to various periods of my life that always make me smile.  I look back on those moments and the music with nothing but fondness.

It's almost hard to pick which album to memorialize him with.  I'm overly fond of everything I've ever heard.  There are a number of his albums that I haven't had a chance to explore (yet)--I'll even go as far as to say in advance that I'm overly fond of them too.  When I find myself in a situation like this, I find it's best to go back to the start.  So, in honour of David Johansen--as well as Sylvain Sylvain, Arthur "Killer" Kane, Johnny Thunders, and Jerry Nolan--please enjoy as a bonus album this week The New York Dolls with their self-titled 1973 debut album.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week

I'm not what you would call a sports fan by nature.  I'm athletically inept and was the kid chosen last for everything in PE class growing up.  When I was really young, when I saw a football game on television, I assumed that the point of the game was to run and fall down because that's what I saw the players doing.  Since my early twenties, I have been enamoured with the game of baseball, but even that I only tend to pay attention to after the all-star break and even then only when the Chicago Cubs or the Cleveland Guardians are doing well.  (I must confess, I do still occasionally refer to the Guardians as the Indians.  That's what they were most of my life including when I lived in Cleveland.  Please don't cancel me.  At least I'm classy enough not to wear my hat or t-shirt with "Chief Wahoo" on it anymore.)

That's not to say that I don't like it when certain teams do well, especially if they're based in or near my home state.  I will always cheer on the Indiana Pacers, the Indianapolis Colts, and the Chicago Bears (like my allegiance to the Cubs, rooting for the Bears is a hereditary... affliction).  I also will root for any college team from Ball State University (my alma mater), Notre Dame (since I currently live near there), and Purdue University (also hereditary).  I'll even root for Indiana University, but only if they're in a championship game.  But, by and large, I don't care about the game itself--just whether or not my team wins.  For the most part, I couldn't care less about basketball, and I think I've made my feelings about football fairly known over the last couple of years (#TeamHeidi).

What's weird to me is that while I'm not a sports fan, I do enjoy sports movies--particularly boxing movies.  I don't know why, but you probably couldn't pay me to watch an actual boxing match--yet I'll watch Rocky at the drop of a hat.  Most of these films are rousing, inspirational, and uplifting and just make you feel good after watching it, no matter the sport.  You want the athlete or the team depicted in the movie to do well.  The best ones are the ones that are based on true stories like Miracle--the 2004 Disney film about the 1980 U.S. Olympic Hockey team starring Kurt Russell.  Or 2015's McFarland, USA (strangely, also a Disney film) in which Kevin Costner plays a high school football coach who moves to a school in southern California and forms a cross-country team.  And how can you not love 1993's Rudy--especially if you're from Indiana and, like me, live in St. Joseph County?

As I said, I don't particularly like basketball, but I grew up in the small rural town of Orleans, Indiana.  Like anyone who grew up in a small Indiana town, I attended my fair share of basketball games (GO, BULLDOGS!), because that's what you do on a Friday night in small town Indiana.  When I was a senior, we had a section of the bleachers roped off called "The Dawg House" that was next to the pep band.  I was one of a group of (mostly) guys who would inhabit that space and cheer as loudly as we could for our basketball team.  I often joked that our sole purpose was to get laryngitis during home games.  I would often lead the others in improvised dance routines when the band played particularly rousing numbers.  Eventually this led to my teaching our cheerleaders how to dance.  Perhaps my crowning achievement was during the last game of that year, when I got to dress up as the Bulldog mascot, Peppy Spirit.

This week's film is based to some degree on a true story.  I watched it again last night and it brought up a lot of personal memories.  Set in 1951, Gene Hackman plays Norman Dale who comes to the small town of Hickory, Indiana, to coach a very small basketball team.  His style of coaching is controversial to the people of the town, but after they manage to win a few games, they start to accept this outsider.  Eventually, Dale leads the Hickory Huskers to the state championship game against the much larger South Bend Central Bears.

The movie is based in large part on Milan High School (and in Indiana that's pronounced "MY-lun").  In 1954 Milan, a school with only 161 students, became the smallest school to ever win a single-class state basketball championship in Indiana, beating the considerably larger Muncie Central, 32-30.  For over 70 years--especially in Indiana--it has remained one of the great underdog stories of all time alongside the "Miracle on Ice" in 1980 and, of course, David and Goliath in the Book of 1 Samuel.  In the late 1990s, Indiana went to a "class system" that placed schools in different classes based on size, which would not allow for an event such as what occurred in 1954 to happen again.

I was kind of saddened to hear of Gene Hackman's passing this week at the age of 95.  He was one of my favourite actors.  In fact, when all of the news outlets were reporting on it and listing some of his movies, I found it hard to pick a favourite.  There were so many good ones.  As I said, I watched this week's film again last night, primarily as a tribute to Hackman.  I wasn't prepared for the small town memories it evoked, which had not happened on previous viewings.  I don't know if this is my favourite Hackman film.  I don't know if it's my favourite sports movie.  But it is a sentimental pick in both categories.

Filmed on location in Indiana, the movie was written by Angelo Pizzo and directed by Decatur, Indiana's own David Anspaugh.  (The two later teamed up to write and direct that other based-on-a-true-story-Indiana-sports classic, the aforementioned Rudy).  It co-starred Barbara Hershey, the legendary Dennis Hopper in his only Oscar-nominated performance, and the great Sheb Wooley, who is perhaps best known for his 1958 hit "The Purple People Eater" as well as the voice of cinema's oft-used "Wilhelm Scream."  Over the last four decades, it has consistently been listed as one of the greatest sports movies of all time.  In 2001, the Library of Congress selected it for preservation in the National Film Registry as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."  This week, as one myself, I'm recommending 1986's Hoosiers.

Until next week, stay safe be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

                                            "Peppy Spirit" with my parents, February, 1992

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

Around the time I turned 35, I started having what I often refer to as my second mid-life crisis.  Ultimately, it caused me to do the same thing I did during my first mid-life crisis nine years earlier--I left Bloomington, Indiana, for a different city.  This second crisis was marked by two rather interesting developments.  First, I found myself consuming more beef jerky than usual.  Second, I found myself listening to more David Bowie music than I ever had in my life.  I'm still, for the life of me, trying to figure out if those things are related somehow or if it's just some random coincidence, which is not something I normally believe in.  I do remember spending my 35th birthday in the rain--because that's what it typically does in South Bend on my birthday.  I went out to celebrate in the usual fashion by going to Barnes & Noble and buying some music.  I bought two classic Bowie albums because I felt I needed something other than the "Best Of" collection that I had.  (I also remember buying the four-disc Roy Orbison box set because it was my birthday and I thought I owed myself a box set.)

Some months later, I found myself working in that very music department.  Most of the staff consisted of people like me and I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed working with proper rock snobs.  We frequently had discussions about movies and music and why this band sucked or why that artist was overrated.  One day, my friend and colleague Alex looked at me and said, "Hunky, Ziggy, Low, or Heroes?"  For those of you who think he just threw a bunch of random words at me, he was asking which David Bowie album was my favourite--Hunky Dory, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, Low, or Heroes.  In hindsight, I kind of wonder why Aladdin Sane or Young Americans weren't in there.  And I'm sure my sister would make an argument for Let's Dance as well.  But of the four Alex mentioned, I gave him my answer.  And all these years later, as much as I do like the other albums on that list (and I do), my favourite still hasn't changed.

I found myself this past week revisiting my David Bowie collection.  I don't know why exactly.  It started innocently enough with my putting a Bowie pin I had recently acquired onto the pocket of my denim jacket.  I thought it would be a good idea to listen to some of his music in the car during my work commute.  I started with my favourite on Wednesday morning and haven't really stopped.

I have a lot of random thoughts and emotions colliding against each other with regards to this week's album selection and listening to it again brought them all to the surface at once.  I immediately recalled what I was going through sixteen years ago when I first bought the album.  But something was hitting me on a much deeper level.  As someone who never quite fit in with others--even among other oddballs, misfits, and outcasts--this album has always made me feel kind of... "welcome" is the best word I can think of to describe how this album makes me feel.  I feel that Bowie was always a bit of an oddball himself, and he wasn't afraid to own it.  I get the impression that his music--especially in the early days--was designed to be welcoming to other oddballs who lacked a sense of belonging.  When I listen to it, I feel like I belong there--like I belong somewhere, even for just 41 minutes.  I feel encouraged to own my own kookiness too.

As I said, this is still my favourite Bowie album, primarily because it includes two of my favourite songs of his--"Kooks" and "Life on Mars?"  So this week, please enjoy the one and only David Bowie with his classic 1971 album, Hunky Dory. 

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and let all the children boogie!

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill