I've Got Blisters On Me Fingers

Awfully busy in offline land, thus my lack of uplifting, reassuring posts. Once I'm past this little (and most welcome) patch of activity, I'll return with who the bloody hell knows what. For the moment, here's an interview I just gave about the Dems. (That photo of me is dated. I've chopped off most of my hair, but I still look dopey). My thanks to Doug Lain for reaching out. Not many others are interested in "Savage Mules" or my criticisms of our future overlord and his loyal Wall Street gang. Again, I'll debate anyone on the Dems and war. I'm certainly not hard to find.

And a quick but heartfelt goodbye to Edie Adams, who died yesterday at 81. I knew of her primarily via Ernie Kovacs, her first husband and comedy partner. Adams and Kovacs had great chemistry and timing. I possess some kinescopes of Kovacs' NBC morning show from the mid-50s, which was a loose, improvisational affair. Adams was quick and sharp on that show, and you can see why Kovacs was mad about her. She was also a very talented singer, as evidenced here on the final Lucille Ball/Desi Arnaz collaboration from 1960. Note Kovacs on the couch, beaming with pride. Two years later, Kovacs was killed in a car wreck, depriving the world of his comedic genius, and leaving his wife with a massive IRS debt. Knowing that makes this song, "That's All," a bit sadder.



Later in the 60s, Adams became widely-known for her Muriel Cigar commercials. I remember them as a kid, and suffice it to say, I knew what my sexuality was gonna be after watching these spots. In this one, Adams plays triplets. Growl.