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I just received this in the email. I found it somewhat thought provoking and got a good chuckle as well:
(PS I did vote Tuesday and seldom fail to do so)
wsf
Subject: James Osterberg
Dear Fan Club members,
Just got back from an Iggy Pop show tonight. I think when people were afraid of Elvis back in the fifties, they weren’t just paranoid about juvenile delinquency and such. They were simply prescient enough to understand that someone like young Jim Osterberg would eventually turn into young Iggy Pop, who would then turn into the 54 yr old I witnessed throwing himself at the audience from the stage this evening. Near as I can tell, he’s the one that invented crowd surfing, Rock&Roll as self mutilation, and all the original dances to popular music in the post Chubby Checker era.
In the evolution of cool (in general), and specifically with regard to the “rock star” in its now cliched and overused form, I think we should first look to Elvis Presley. This much is obvious. The next step seems to have taken the shape of Jim Morrison. Self destructive off-stage, comparitavely laid back on-stage, and able to whip the crowd into a frenzy with an animal magnetism and sex appeal that had nothing to do with the bearded, bloated, drunken philosopher he was at the time of his death. This is where Iggy comes in. He wasn’t musicianly, sexy, or charismatic. He was just shorter, uglier, and less talented than the aforementioned examples. Therefore, he had to be louder, more intense, and have less regard for his own safety than a kamikaze pilot headed for the USS Arizona. As counterintuitive as it may seem, this actually works! Any wild frontman from the past twenty years certainly owes 15% of his fame and fortune to the Iggster.
I am currently unable to hear and suffering from a feedback induced irregular heartbeat. Best 25 bucks I’ve spent in a long time. However, it is obvious that the late sixties were thirty years ago, and I’m sure that however wild he was tonight, more blood was shed back in the day. I looked at my watch before the first encore and incorrectly estimated that he had played two hours (he went on a little after 9pm). When all was said and done, I walked back to my car, and drove off. Two blocks later I looked at the clock on my dashboard and it read 10:41. Thinking I forgot to turn the clock forward for the end of daylight savings time (duh, it’s backwards in the Fall), I checked my watch and realized that yes, it was 10:41. Two lessons learned: 1) old punks can grow old, and 2) they don’t fade away, they just play fewer encores…
In conclusion, if I was heading off to war, I’d want Iggy Pop on the front lines with me. Not necessarily even holding a gun. He could carry the flagpole like a microphone stand and dance around leading our troops as they engage the enemy. No shirt. Faded jeans. Roadies frantically pulling him out of the confusion. Which leads me to my final statement of the evening:
I am proud to say that today, I voted as a citizen of Philadelphia for the first time. I take my right to vote very seriously and have strong feelings for our country and those who have died for it. If only half of the “patriotic” flag waving motorists of the past seven weeks had taken their rights seriously today, we would have had a record voter turnout. I refuse to display an American flag on my car as I feel it encourages people to make meaningless gestures such as this that substitute for real patriotism. I invite all of the citizens who BOTH a) didn’t vote today AND b) feel that displaying a flag on their car (only after the terrorist attacks of September 11) is a good alternative to taking part in our electoral system, to please take the flag out of your window and kiss my ass.
Yours truly (with a heart full of napalm),
Chuck
Replies
*
I just received this in the email. I found it somewhat thought provoking and got a good chuckle as well:
(PS I did vote Tuesday and seldom fail to do so)
wsf
Subject: James Osterberg
Dear Fan Club members,
Just got back from an Iggy Pop show tonight. I think when people were afraid of Elvis back in the fifties, they weren't just paranoid about juvenile delinquency and such. They were simply prescient enough to understand that someone like young Jim Osterberg would eventually turn into young Iggy Pop, who would then turn into the 54 yr old I witnessed throwing himself at the audience from the stage this evening. Near as I can tell, he's the one that invented crowd surfing, Rock&Roll as self mutilation, and all the original dances to popular music in the post Chubby Checker era.
In the evolution of cool (in general), and specifically with regard to the "rock star" in its now cliched and overused form, I think we should first look to Elvis Presley. This much is obvious. The next step seems to have taken the shape of Jim Morrison. Self destructive off-stage, comparitavely laid back on-stage, and able to whip the crowd into a frenzy with an animal magnetism and sex appeal that had nothing to do with the bearded, bloated, drunken philosopher he was at the time of his death. This is where Iggy comes in. He wasn't musicianly, sexy, or charismatic. He was just shorter, uglier, and less talented than the aforementioned examples. Therefore, he had to be louder, more intense, and have less regard for his own safety than a kamikaze pilot headed for the USS Arizona. As counterintuitive as it may seem, this actually works! Any wild frontman from the past twenty years certainly owes 15% of his fame and fortune to the Iggster.
I am currently unable to hear and suffering from a feedback induced irregular heartbeat. Best 25 bucks I've spent in a long time. However, it is obvious that the late sixties were thirty years ago, and I'm sure that however wild he was tonight, more blood was shed back in the day. I looked at my watch before the first encore and incorrectly estimated that he had played two hours (he went on a little after 9pm). When all was said and done, I walked back to my car, and drove off. Two blocks later I looked at the clock on my dashboard and it read 10:41. Thinking I forgot to turn the clock forward for the end of daylight savings time (duh, it's backwards in the Fall), I checked my watch and realized that yes, it was 10:41. Two lessons learned: 1) old punks can grow old, and 2) they don't fade away, they just play fewer encores...
In conclusion, if I was heading off to war, I'd want Iggy Pop on the front lines with me. Not necessarily even holding a gun. He could carry the flagpole like a microphone stand and dance around leading our troops as they engage the enemy. No shirt. Faded jeans. Roadies frantically pulling him out of the confusion. Which leads me to my final statement of the evening:
I am proud to say that today, I voted as a citizen of Philadelphia for the first time. I take my right to vote very seriously and have strong feelings for our country and those who have died for it. If only half of the "patriotic" flag waving motorists of the past seven weeks had taken their rights seriously today, we would have had a record voter turnout. I refuse to display an American flag on my car as I feel it encourages people to make meaningless gestures such as this that substitute for real patriotism. I invite all of the citizens who BOTH a) didn't vote today AND b) feel that displaying a flag on their car (only after the terrorist attacks of September 11) is a good alternative to taking part in our electoral system, to please take the flag out of your window and kiss my ass.
Yours truly (with a heart full of napalm),
Chuck