Rigor Mortis Sets In

Okay, its been awhile. So much has happened, but I just havenít felt like putting it all into an F&R type perspective. Maybe itís the heat. Too damn hot, I say. Maybe itís my mood swings. From cranky to really cranky at the drop of a hat and without notice. Or maybe itís the fact that so many famous people are dying and death doesnít bring out the funny side of me anymore. Yeah, itís probably the heat.

John Entwistle dead. That sucks. Do I need to say more than he was the bass player for The Who? And heís the second "quiet one" from a legendary band to pass away in recent memory. An innovative musician, a gifted songwriter and, from what I hear, a really cool guy. Yes, he will be missed. No bloody question about it.

On the flipside (which is where Entwistleís songs usually wound up on a Who single), what a stupid fucking way to go. A heart attack brought on by cocaine use. I guess I donít know what demons find refuge in the mind of an aging rock star, but after cancer took the life of a beloved musician with a wonderful spirit, itís very hard to force out a "boo-hoo" over another drug related rock and roll casualty. So sad about John. But more head shaking than crying on this one.

Despite the loss of The Ox, Pete and Roger decided to soldier on and not cancel the big Who tour that was to begin the weekend after Johnís death. One has to wonder if playing without two original members of the group (the late Keith Moon was also unable to attend) was a noble attempt to pay tribute to their fallen band mates or just a decision made for financial reasons. Well, it must have been a tough choice to make - especially since Pete didnít have the luxury of asking Ann Landers for advice.

Ted Williams. Teddy Ballgame. Next to Ike Turner, the greatest hitter that ever lived. Now heís gone to that great baseball diamond in the sky. Well, his spirit has. Apparently, Tedís body has been frozen to keep his DNA around for future use. Perhaps itíll be sold on a special sports edition of QVC, along with Dale Earnhardtís blood and Mike Tysonís rape semen.

For the second year in a row, Chief Gillespie has died. Carroll OíConnor, who played the character in the TV version of "In The Heat of the Night," died last year and now Rod Steiger, who won an Academy AwardÆ for his portrayal on the gum-chewing redneck chief of police in the film version, has passed on. Steiger appeared in numerous movies (including "The Pawnbroker"), but his most memorable scene may be one in which Marlon Brando gets all the best lines. You know, the one in "On The Waterfront" where Brando talks about being an contender instead of a bum. Yeah, Charlie, you shoulda looked out for him.

Actor Leo McKern has also died. He was the villain in "Help!" and Number 2 in "The Prisoner." Need a man do anything else to become immortal?

Record producer Gus Dudgeon was killed in a car crash. His biggest claim to fame was producing Elton Johnís great early albums and singles, but he also worked with David Bowie, the Bonzo Dog Band and LEEís favorite group, XTC. Unfortunately, Dudgeon wasnít a high profile type producer and his death received far less public notice than Sir Eltonís silly shenanigans over the past couple of years. Yes, people care more about how much a pudgy old rock star spends on booze and flowers than they do the passing of the man who helped make the poofterís records sound so good. Sad.

Rosemary Clooney. As a younger dude just discovering the wonders of the female shape, I remember thinking how hot she looked in that strapless dress in "White Christmas" with Der Bingle and Mister Danny Kaye. (They were in the movie with her, not the dress.) Now I know she was a fine actress and dynamite singer who deserves to be remembered more for her talent than for being the aunt of one of todayís most bankable actors. Simply put, the lady could sing.

Michael Jackson isnít dead, but his career is on life support. And now he claims the recording industry is a racist conspiracy, and that if you fight for him, youíre fighting for all black people, dead or alive. Wait a minute - Michael Jackson is black?! Anyway, itís just a coincidence Jackson is making this claim right after his last album tanked and not back when he was the number one recording artist in the world. I guess he has a lot more time to throw a hissy fit when people are ignoring him.

Donít get me wrong. Iím not defending the record companies. Iím just saying itís hard to get behind a Don Quixote who helped build those damn windmills in the first place. And the gloved one sure didnít have a problem with Sony when they helped him buy the Beatles songbook out from under Paul McCartneyís nose.

Paul McCarntneyís nose. I wonder how much Jackson would pay for that?

Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina Jolie are breaking up and putting an end to their reign of creepiness. Guess Olí Billy couldnít keep his Bob where it belonged and now heíll have to write love songs about someone elseís panties for his next album. Too bad. I really thought these two freaks could make a go of it. Well, at least Angelina can always go back to kissing her brother until the next right man comes along.

I just picked up the 30th anniversary edition of David Bowieís "The Rise of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars" and itís pretty damn cool, I must say. But THIRTY YEARS!?! Man, that makes me feel old! And I bet these kids today will feel the same way when the P. Diddy remix album gets the same deluxe treatment 30 years from now. Yeah, right.

A recent discovery of a former Al Qíaeda hideout in Afghanistan has uncovered plans for a dirty bomb, photos of famous American landmarks and a first draft screenplay of Dana Carveyís "The Master of Disguise."

The Pope spoke at a World Youth Day gathering in Toronto and in his own special Pope way asked the crowd, "Whatís So Funny ëBout Peace, Love and Understanding?" (But chants for an encore of "I Love The Sound of Breaking Glass" went completely ignored by the pontiff.) More than 500,000 Pope fans were in attendance for the speech, which, of course, made it a great place for Catholic priests to find action and pick up young boys.

"Will & Grace," the NBC sitcom that has become the broadcast equivalent to fingernails on a chalkboard, has received 13 Emmy nominations. Need any more proof that most people in the TV industry are either gay or stupid?

And finally, "TV Guide" came out with another one of their very special issues featuring a list of the top fifty something-or-others. This time it was the "50 Greatest Cartoon Characters of All Time" and, no, Ozzy Osbourne did not make the list. Believe it or not, the folks at "The Guide" got it right by giving the top spot on the list to Mr. Bugs Bunny, but I can only scratch my head and wonder what the hell Pikachu is doing at #15. Yes, Pikachu - a stinkiní Pokemon - is ranked ahead of Top Cat (#18), Underdog (#23) and Yogi Bear (#36). And whereís Beany and Cecil, I ask you? Not on their list with the Powerpuff Girls (#13) and Daria (#41). Well, what can you expect from a publication that recently named "Hoganís Heroes" the fifth worst TV show of all time? Maybe I should just come up with my own lists. And the first one could be, "The 50 Dumbest Things I Read In TV Guide!"

F&R Footnote: Gus Dudgeon was also the engineer on one of the greatest British blues albums of all time: John Mayallís "Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton." Put that in the changer with some classic Elton John, your Who album of choice and the Best of Rosemary Clooney. Then just sit back and enjoy.