Did you catch VH-1ís live telecast of the first three songs of the opening night of Aerosmithís Just Push Play tour? First, there was the Jumbotron playing a "Tribute To Us" montage to remind everybody who Aerosmith was - just in case those paying the big bucks to get inside the Meadowlands Amphitheatre forgot. Then the bad boys from Boston came out and sucked big time. It didnít help that Steven Tyler now looks like Joan Riversí twin sister and sounds like, for lack of a better term, a screaming jackass. And boy, can I ever get enough of that snappy little "Jaded" tune? This is the band that recorded "Walk This Way" and "Sweet Emotion," and yet they play that turd like itís the old favorite the fans came to jerk off to.

Yeah, rock concerts are way too overblown. In order to turn a profit, they gotta cram a kazillion people into a gigantic stadium and the whole thing loses the personal impact we felt back in the day when popular groups shared the bill at small venues and you could get a ticket for less than the price of an industrial size beer at todayís extravaganzas. At least thatís what I thought until I switched over to the first game of the NBA finals and they in turn switched over to a live U2 concert. Yes, it also took place in a large arena and they too had a big screen providing the back drop to the proceedings. Yet somehow Bono and the boys made their show work.

How? Well, to begin with, they sounded fuckiní great. Despite all their larger than lifeness and the fact that theyíve got a huge set of laurels they could be resting on, U2 still makes good albums and they still give the effort needed to deliver the product live. Plus they manage to keep their identity as a band during the concert and donít let the event dwarf them into becoming a sideshow under their own big top. These guys are good, dammit. (Even if Bono does remind me of Robin Williams at times.) And, by god, ainít it great to see a guitar player who can keep a good rhythm and not try to impress everyone with how fast he can play or how much he contorts his face when going from note to note during a solo. The Edge rules - end of story.

And while the band played on, NBC took us back to the coronation of the Los Angeles Lakers as the kings of the professional hard court. Whoops, the 76ers won the game and spoiled LAís chances of becoming the first NBA team to sweep through the playoffs without losing a single game. Which is just as well because Iím in no mood to hear people yammer about whether or not the Shaq Pack deserves to be called the best team ever just because the league is weak and thereís no real solid competition this year. And now that Iíve got that out of my system, thereís just one thing I wanna know. When did Phil Jackson start going to David Lettermanís barber?

Speaking of David Letterman (and that segue was totally unplanned), Mister Elvis Costello dropped by the Ed Sullivan Theater to duet with his latest singing partner, Anne Sofie Tucker Von Trapp Otter and Iím still scratching my head over that performance. Itís supposed to be pretty music, right? Earth to Elvis - youíre not pretty. And the first time I hear rumors youíre writing songs for a Barbara Streisand comeback special, itís over between us, mate.

Hey, have you heard the news? The Smothers Brothers are back and theyíre doing all the funny stuff that made them famous in the first place. Yeah, they start singing a song and then Tommy messes it up by saying something stupid and then Dick chews him out. You know what they say - if it ainít broke, donít fix it. And if it is broke, blame it on you brother. Mom always liked him best anyway, right? Itís just too bad John Lennon and Harry Nilsson are no longer around to get liquored up and heckle Tommy and Dick during their big return to show business. Then it really would be just like old times. Dance boatman dance, dance boatman dance.

And now to inject some thoughts on a different kind of live show. How ëbout that Timothy McVeigh execution? Okay, so Iím actually writing this before the Instrument of Death meets his syringe of destiny and Iím just assuming heíll be one dead asshole by the time you read these bitter words. Of course, a story of this magnitude once again raises all the usual questions about the death penalty and execution by lethal injection. Is it moral? Should it be televised? Is it in bad taste to yell "you da man" just before the needle is inserted? Ah, what the heck. Maybe they should have strapped some raw meat to the sick bastard and tossed him in a room full of starving, rabid wolverines and let nature take itís course. Then it would be Godís will. (Some advice to McVeigh - never trump you partnerís ace in Hell, especially when that partner is Adolph Hitler.)

BTW - did you happen to catch those old home movies of little Timmy McVeigh they ran on The Today Show with Katie Couric and Matt Lauer? What a cute little bugger. (And in this case, Iím talking about McVeigh not Katie.) There he was without a care in the world, opening some presents and playing a quick round of "hop on pop" while the camera caught every heart warming moment. Those were happier times all right. And to think McVeigh was at that age when some kids wind up becoming "collateral damage."

In an unrelated thing I need to gripe about - whatís the deal with this big cry baby limping to the Supreme Court and getting the rules changed so he can use a golf cart if and when heís good enough to play in a PGA tournament? Just more proof that golf is not a real sport and the people who play it are not athletes. Whatís next? Bowlers who canít lift the ball get to knock the pins down with their feet? No age restrictions in tee ball? People who canít speak English can have someone else scream "Yahtzee!" for them? Listen up folks, this oneís gonna come around and bite all of us on the ass one of these days and donít say I didnít warn you.

And finally, F&R would like to wish a happy birthday to the late Marilyn Monroe. If she were still alive today, the legendary blonde bombshell would be 75 years old and, trust me, you wouldnít want to have sex with her.

Oh wait - I almost forgot to make fun of the Bush twins. And I donít mean the Landers sisters. Yeah, poor little Barbara Bush. Imagine being a teenager and having your very own evil twin in real life! Geeze, so Jenna wants to toss a few down - whatís wrong with that? Her daddy was quite the party animal when he was a scamp and he grew up to be President of the United States.*

Okay, now Iím done.

*Title not officially recognized by the WBC.