Ever since my Dad died I’ve become increasingly cold towards Christmas. I’m not one of those people who needs Christmas to be perfect and then implodes when it isn’t. Here’s what I want for Christmas:

So far I’ve done two of those things and they both relate to shopping. This year, however, I kept my gift limit to $20 and I pretty much stayed in budget. Only one or two went over because of insane shipping prices. Overall, I did pretty well and I think I got some nice gifts for my family. I’m also wrapping my gifts in paper bags, twine, and simple embellishments. They really look nice and the bonus: Recycling.

*le sigh* I guess everyone’s been tense this year. You can kind of feel it in the air. Cashiers are glum, shoppers look worried, families are fighting, and I didn’t get a Christmas tree this year. Oh, I got the little ones AJB bought, but I didn’t get to decorate them. I was playing Left 4 Dead 2 with my brothers when it happened and wasn’t given fair enough warning; although I was told I had been.

Yesterday I didn’t get anything done. I felt like I was in a car most of the day. We had lunch and then took my Mother-in-Law to see the new house – and also meet with the contractor to give him money. The house is coming along. All of the demo is done. The murder shed is gone, the ugly white cabinet that was blocking a beautiful window is gone, lots of ugliness is gone. Unearthed beneath the murder shed was 100 year old siding in a deep forest green. We think this was the original color of the house. The siding’s in great condition and there’s a slim chance most of it might be preserved under the stucco, which would be awesome. Eventually we’ll get to the outside of the house and we’re thinking we’ll restore it back to it’s original (or near original) look. I like the siding a lot.

Now we start the…uh…what are we starting now? Technically we should be starting electrical, but our bids were so discombobulated we’ve had to start over. Again. The house will be upgraded to 120 amps (is that right? Is it amps?), we’ll have ethernet all over the house, all the superfluous wiring in the basement will be taken out – if it’s dead, it’s gone – new outlets, new light-switch plates for all the missing ones, a couple of phone lines in AJB’s office, a ceiling light in my office, better lighting in AJB’s office, push button switches in the downstairs, and I think that’s it. We’re also moving some ill advised switches to more convenient locations.

By the time I got home yesterday, it was 5:30pm and I was kinda pooped. AJB and his mom had more shopping to do and I was going to help my brother make mashed potatoes. Except, he had to leave and now I’m making the mashed potatoes he’s taking to Christmas Eve. Go figure. Because I was having a bad day, I decided to treat myself to a glass of wine. Except, we packed all our wine glasses and yes, even the cork screw. I must continue to remind myself that NO ONE thought we’d still be in storage by December. It was inconceivable at the time, but certain things grind my gears like packing up the cork screw. Why? Had I actually done the packing, I’m not sure I would have stowed it. Serves me right. So then I tried to push the cork through and it’s one of those not-a-cork corks and was jammed in pretty tight. By now I was really frustrated and decided to venture out to buy a new one. I stood in line at Rite-Aid for 15 minutes while three cashiers SLOWLY rang up customers, none of them with smiles on their faces, and the lady behind me kept pushing her cart into my ankles. All I wanted was to relax and have a glass of wine.

I used to love Christmas. I used to get so happy when I’d see the decorations and lights on the streets. I’d hear music and my heart would sing. Not this year. This year I kinda just want it to be over with. I miss my Dad and all the traditions I’ve held dear which are rather nonexistent. My husband also told me that he can take or leave Christmas. I mean, he’s a Jew after all, but his family has always celebrated Christmas. Don’t you lose Jew points for celebrating Christmas? He also doesn’t celebrate Hanukkah. Bad Jew. I watch him getting into the spirit and he seems to really enjoy it, but then to say he can take it or leave it. Man. Last year I swore this year’s Christmas would be better. It’s somehow worse. That we’re not in our house, no tree, no movies, no baking, all rushing around, tired all the time…people are in crappy moods. Christmas seems more like something we endure rather than celebrate. When Charlie Brown exclaims “Isn’t there anybody who knows what Christmas is all about?” I feel his pain. Next year will be better. We’ll be in our new house, I’ll have a tree, and perhaps…just perhaps, I’ll be in a better mood.

Appropriately, I woke up with this in my head this morning: I think Charlie sums it up best.

Merry Christmas everyone.

I went to the house yesterday to peek on the progress and so far lots is happening. Two guys were out in the rain disassembling the murder shed. The murder shed is part of the original house, I think perhaps it was intended for quick storage as it’s right off the kitchen. The house’s large-for-California basement might have been where they kept most of the stored goods and the murder shed was where they kept things they’d need right away. The worker guy, Alex, told me that the wood was so rotten that all they had to do was start pushing and the thing started coming down on it’s own. Good riddance.

It’s really hard to be eco-friendly when you’re fixing up a house. It’s not that it’s hard, it’s just expensive and time consuming. I’m working on coming up solutions and have been carrying on-going discussions with the contractor about how to recycle as much as possible. Anything that looks salvageable I’m putting on Craigslist and looking for recyclers. We have a few pieces going on Craiglist next week.

The first item is a 1950′s Swedish stove (we call it the Dutch Oven) and second is a mid-century style front door screen. Both are in great condition, but have got to go. The stove is a hazard and totally illegal in it’s current location. Someone would have to install it properly and frankly, that’s where our jumbo-tron is going. The screen door is in pretty great shape, but the front door is so pretty we thought we’d like to show it off a bit better. Anyway, if anyone wants to make us an offer on these pieces before they hit Craigslist, let me know. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to price the stove. I’m betting that if you managed to find one in this good of shape, it would cost anywhere from $500-$1000 maybe more. After all, it’s rare and it’s vintage. I love Mid-Century design, we just have no use for it. We’re also not really into the 50′s ski lodge thing.

It’s Cookie Fest with Mom today. I just might have some pics for tomorrow.

It’s 2.5 days until Christmas. Or depending on how you count, 3 days. I have yet to mail my gifts to siblings in far off places and I have to come to terms that they’ll just have to get them late. The good news is, I’m done shopping. Tomorrow I’m spending the entire day baking cookies with my Mom and as much as I love doing it, in the back of my mind I’m worried I just can’t get it all done in time. I have to wrap presents, work on real work, visit the house again – I have to make sure all this rain hasn’t flooded the pool or basement. To top if off, I’m fighting a headache that just doesn’t seem to want to let up. The added bonus is that we found termites in this rental house we’re in. Termites. Lovely. Hi Stress. How’ve ya been?

I’m looking forward to making cookies all day, I just wish I was done with everything else. The truth is, I know it will all work out and I’m just getting worked up for nothing.

This morning I woke up with this in my head:

The rain over the last few days has put a damper on any sort of motivation and all I really want to do is watch TCM and snuggle with my cats. I love the rain. It makes everything look and smell so wonderful. Our grass is greener than ever and the world is clean. Meanwhile, I’ve been listening to a really great Old Time Radio station 1710 Antioch. This station is literally run out of this guy’s house in Illinois and gets a local broadcast range of about a mile radius. He’s streaming online which is how I found him. I really love the DIY aspect of it and even donated $15.00 to his efforts; something I never do. This is what life is about: Doing what you love and sharing it with others. I have to support that.

1710 Antioch runs the gambit of OTR programs from suspense to comedy to science fiction. You’ll hear famous actors who got their start in radio including the wonderful Glenn Ford. You’ll even hear old station bumpers, commercials, and PSAs from the 20′s to the 50′s. Its a blast from the past and really makes me wonder why we need television at all. I mean, all these programs are so great and while all of them aren’t Mercury Theater caliber, it still instantly transports you to a simpler place and time. It also reminds me that nothing can compete with your own imagination; what the scene would look like or just imagining a group of actors huddled around a microphone holding scripts, the sound effects guy in the background clanging bells and knocking on tables. You can find magic in the world if you look for it. Antioch 1710 is magical. Sheer perfection comes with listening at night with the rain splashing on the shingles. The station owner really cares about the shows, fixes audio, and provides really clean recordings. If you do listen, consider donating a few pence to help the guy out. He really puts a lot of work into it.

And now onto the Round Up…

This week’s Photo Round Up contains 6 images – actually 2 are from the same day, but it was such a great photo of Oatmeal, I had to include it. I’m also noticing that my subject matter consists mainly of my cats. I suppose it’s because they’re always around. I should use this project to get out more or at least wander the yard a bit. Then again, it’s been raining. Let’s see how I do next week.

I woke up yesterday in such a good mood. I was going to see THE Frankie Valli with my Mom and JCS. A storm was brewing, but it wasn’t just the rain. I guess most families fall into the category of irrational and dramatic, so I can take comfort in knowing I’m not alone. Eh, I won’t go into it.

We arrived at The California Theater in San Bernardino, which is oddly beautiful considering it’s unfortunate geographical location. It was a brisk evening and we arrived a little early. I was in a bad mood due to earlier events and figured a Jack and Coke would fix me right quick. I went outside for a quick pre-show smoke, J&C in hand, I chatted with a true Frankie Valli fan who had seen Valli perform over 40 times and had actually met him.

The show started right on time. When Valli came out, he immediately charged into a 60 second rendition of “Dawn” and I couldn’t believe my eyes, was Frankie lip-synching? Was he? No. Couldn’t be. I kept watching and eventually determined he wasn’t. Dawn was over quicker than I would have liked. It’s my favorite Four Seasons song and I was a little bummed. It took me a while to get back into the groove, but I never fully recovered.

Throughout the show, Frankie was kind enough to oblige the half filled theater with fan favorites and several covers from a new album. Overall (and let me just get this out of the way) Frankie has a golden voice. He’s a living legend and seems like a stand-up guy. I grew up listening to the Four Seasons because my Dad loved them so. It’s really easy for kids to get into 60′s bubble-gum pop, except, I look back fondly at complaining that all my Dad listened to was old music. Of course, because it was hammered into my head, as I grew older and realized that “old” music is WHY we have new music, I grew to love and appreciate it. I especially love The Four Seasons because it reminds me of my Dad. It’s not just that. It’s really great music. Bob Gaudio, the mastermind behind all their songs, is a musical genius. I also recently saw Jersey Boys in Chicago and actually liked it.

I guess I expected more from the show. I mean, Frankie’s 74 years old, so I don’t know what I expected, actually. Have you ever been up late at night flipping channels and you stumble upon KCET public television pledge drive? They broadcast their concert series which are generally older bands from the 60′s or 70′s that take place in towns like San Bernardino. The hosts reminisce and tell you about the importance of supporting public television and that if you pledge a hundred dollars, you’ll get a tote bag and a CD. Back to the concert, KC and the Sunshine band or some other sad band that has nothing better going on. The cameras scan the audience and it’s filled with centenarians sitting there like lumps on logs, occasionally smiling and clapping their hands. Never standing and occasionally nodding off.

You get the picture? That was last night. Talk about the oldest crowd I’ve ever been amongst. Old, old, old. Old as shit. It was like the old age home had a field trip. Frankie Valli, because he himself is old, now has a foursome of young lads that sing and dance behind him. They’re freakin’ nuts. They were all over the place, bouncing, jumping, high fiving each other, doing moves that were obviously inspired by the 60′s, but looked more like a cheap theater production of a 60′s dance routine. A group of good looking, local boys, who looked like jocks that hurt themselves in highs school, had to leave the team, and got into theater as lark, and ended up touring with Franki Valli. Did I actually see chest bumping? I feel like I did. Their big moment came when each Dude got a turn in singing “December, 1963 (Oh What a Night)”. I guess Frankie can’t justify singing it himself because it was originally done by Gerry Polci and Don Ciccone. The Dudes, I swear to God, were doing (holy shit) hip-hop dance moves and kind of rapping out the song a bit. None of them could sing and it was awful, awful, awful. Fuck. And get this, the audience flipped! They loved it. As far as I was concerned, it was the worst part of the show.

Fine. I regrouped. I was pretty stoked when Frankie sang Grease, Sherry, and Big Girls Don’t Cry. Still, the audience just sat there. There were also various medleys thrown into the mix. I hate medleys. When Frankie asked the audience to clap, it was like pulling teeth. I figure their Metamucil kicked in during “Oh What a Night”, but wore off soon after. At one point, one lady stood up to dance, but looked around, saw she was the only one and sat back down. Good for you lady. I heard a “Fuck Yeah” from the back when “Walk Like a Man” came on, but otherwise, this was the most comatose audience I’ve ever been in. Comatose! I don’t care if you’re a hundred years old, this is a concert, and Frankie Valli is a fucking rock star! How do you forget what it’s like to be young? How often do you get to see a living legend? Stand up! Clap! Yell! I did and the lady in front of me kept getting annoyed. At one point, her husband had to comfort her. OMG.

Granted, the musical arrangements for these songs have metamorphosed into cheesy Las Vegas lounge versions and there are few reminders that you’re actually watching a Frankie Valli concert. It could have been a cover band, for all I knew.

Frankie was phoning it in. I hate to say it, but he was. JCS and my Mom will disagree, they loved it, but they’re both old ladies. I mean, when you’ve been singing the same songs for 40 years, I guess you lose some of that old enthusiasm. The problem is, it really looked like The Four Dudes were there to replace that lost vigor. That’s sad. Even though Frankie can’t dance and shake like he once did, he still has a beautiful voice. I guess it doesn’t help that the audience was snoring through more than half the show. That’s gotta be a bummer for any performer.

Everyone stood up after the first finale because they thought it was over and were giving their show-end standing ovation. Psyche! The band came back out and did 3 more songs. Naturally, now that you’re up, you can’t just sit back down, can you? That would be embarrassing. You stood, now you gotta hold your ground. Standing or not, the level of excitement was still low. Lights on, show over. The audience erupted in applause. Finally.

Was it the worst show I’ve ever seen? No. Like I said, despite all the bad, Frankie still sings like a king. The audience’s lack of enthusiasm was disheartening and I was confused. The modern musical arrangements ala Las Vegas isn’t my cup of tea, but the band was skilled. I can say that much. Will I ever see Frankie Valli play again? Probably not. I hated The Four Dudes. They killed it for me. I’d go see Jersey Boys again, because at least they sing the songs as they were intended and you get to see a reasonable facsimile of the band in their hey day.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to be disappointed by a Frankie Valli show and I don’t blame Frankie at all. He’s old and these ancient songs are his bread and butter. I’ll continue to listen to The Four Seasons because I love them and they deserve to be remembered as they were.

Last night AJB and I saw Liza Minnelli at The Palace. I know. You’re thinking, Liza Minnelli, WTF? No, seriously. Liza’s doing a short stint at The Palace, after a nasty divorce, two hip replacements, a knee replacement, and almost dying. That said, I honestly expected to see a little old granny standing on stage, waving her arms once and a while, and not anything like the Liza we know and love from Cabaret. Holy shit! Was I wrong! She’s 62 years old and thank God for stage lighting. She looked about 45. Not to mention dancing her ass off every night, she’s lost a lot of weight. While she is obviously older, she can’t quite kick as high, she brought it to the table. I mean, this lady gave every ounce of herself and sang her little heart out. Wow. AJB and I were flabbergasted. Flabbergasted!! It was like watching The Undiscovered Country where the ensign tells Cpt. Sulu that the ship will fly apart if they go anything further. Sulu responds, “Fly her apart then!” Oh yeah, just like that.

I’ve seen plenty of old timers make their comebacks on stage. What often amazes me is the sheer will power involved. When I see 60 year olds working like they’re 30, I feel like maybe I shouldn’t complain and maybe get up and do more things. Liza is truly a powerhouse. Yes, it’s true, she was a little more tired and her voice just ain’t what it used to be, but what you must realize, even taken down a few notches, she still manages to give the performance of a lifetime. This is the only show I’ve ever been to where the singer got a standing ovation after every song. She manages to talk to the audience as if we’re all old pals. She told us stories about her youth, momma, her God-Mother Kay Thompson, she even made jokes about her horrible divorce. If you don’t like Liza Minnelli, it’s because you’ve never seen her show. All I can really say is “Wow!” That lady has moxie! And she knows who her audience is: Older gay couples and old ladies. AJB and I fall into one of those categories, although we’re not sure which.

After Liza, we braved the cold, cold, streets of Times Square and had dinner at a steak house called Bond 45 – I can always find veggie foods at steak houses when put to the challenge. We then made our way to yet another show called Slava’s SnowShow. Slava is a Russian clown who, once upon a time, was part of Cirque du Soleil. So I was thinking, how bad could it be? Sorry to say, it was pretty bad. Boring as shit. Apparently people are saying this is the most beautiful show they’ve ever seen. I have to wonder if they’re talking about another show entirely. What parts are they talking about? The part where the clown walks across the stage excruciatingly slow? I fell asleep a few times and AJB woke me up to see the big finale. Ok, that was pretty great, but one great finale doesn’t make a whole show. All I know is, Slava was facing a wind machine, paper snow and smoke was flying out at the audience and that one song from Carmina Burana was playing as a super-bright light filled the room. Of course, it had nothing to do, whatsoever, with the entire show and didn’t actually mean anything. It was just random. No story, just small meaningless vignettes that weren’t actually funny.

Naturally, it’s hard to top Liza, so maybe anything I saw wouldn’t compare, but it wasn’t just that. Slava’s show sucked. I wish we’d gone to see Equus. At the very least we’d get some full frontal Daniel Radcliffe even if it comes with the poking of horses’ eyes out.

Today, it’s cold as shit, but we’re going to bundle up and see some things…in particular, the tree at Rockefeller Center. And what else? We’ll see.

click link to download mp3…

>> Belle and Sebastian – Piazza, New York Catcher

>> Frank Sinatra – New York, New York

>> Jim Croce – New York’s Not My Home

>> Nina Hagen – New York, New York

>> Psychic TV – New York Story

>> The Pogues – Fairytale of New York

>> Frankie Valli – Native New Yorker

These are all songs I already have in my iTunes music collection – other’s I could have included, but didn’t because they were in MP4 format and I didn’t have time to pilfer them from SoulSeek. As you can see, some of these, like Sinatra, I’m including due to a moral obligation.

Not one, but all of these songs make me so happy especially when I play them in the hotel or on the plane. Flying into JFK listening to “Native New Yorker” is probably the most wonderful things in the world. I’m instantly transported to 1978 New York. Originally, I was going to use the Odyssey version, but since I’m going to see Frankie Valli next week, I thought it was fitting.

I’m especially excited to visit New York during the holiday season. In total, I’ve seen New York 4 times – this will be my 5th. I know it’s a cheesy tourist stop, but I just have to see the tree at Rockefeller Center. I’ll say hi to Tina Fey for you. It’s going to be bone cold, but the I’ll warm myself on sugar plum thoughts of the city that was once stomped on by the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Oh New York, why are you so awesome? Woody Allen loves you and so do I.

Hope you enjoy the mix, even if you’re not visiting the greatest city on the planet. Check back, I’ll be writing from the road.

I arrived at about 10:45pm. In my day, that was late. Apparently, that’s really early in this scene. People didn’t really start showing up until after 11:30pm and more and more after that. I went in, grabbed a Newcastle and stood in a corner people watching. About half an hour into it, I was wondering if I should just leave. A stout man decked in pretty great Mod garb waved at me, lead me around introducing me to people I’d probably never see again; and who’s names I wouldn’t remember 5 minutes after hearing them. I thought the Mod guy’s name was Jack, but then found out it was Zach. Not as good. How come nobody is named Jack anymore? He was nice enough, but after a few too many was a little too flirty and huggy. He kept trying to get me over to his house for an after party. Would this be an after party of two? LOL. No thanks.

I escaped for a smoke and got cornered into a conversation with an African soccer player by way of London via Pasadena. I felt bad, it was the kind of conversation you can’t get out of unless you’re a total douche-bag. He asked me to dance and I felt bad saying no, so I danced one song and escaped to the bathroom. We girls have it easy. The powder-room continues to be an excellent escape plan; as if guys think we must have bladders the size of a pea; or that powdering our noses is of the utmost importance. I guess it is, except the bathroom didn’t have a mirror. I lost him. He was a nice guy, but I’m off the market and even I wasn’t, he wasn’t my type. At all.

I left shortly after that. I wasn’t feeling the music and even though the crowd was generally nice and cool, I didn’t feel like staying. I stopped off at the 7-11, bought a water and super vitamin pack. Yes, this is how you avoid a hangover in the morning. Seeing as I’m a lightweight, I’ll end up with a hangover after just one drink. Or at least a nagging headache. I drove home to the tunes of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Damn, I was hoping this club would have played more mainstream 60′s like The Hollies, The Kinks, The Troggs, anything from the Manchester 60′s, or soul. Nothing like that. It was mostly psychedelic garage rock and French Ye-Ye music; which is fine, but I just wasn’t into it last night. And frankly, you have to be on something to dance to those beats. It’s a little fast. Good, but fast. I would have more fun if AJB had been there or I’d had some friend with me.

Generally, I can go out and feel better just for going out and getting hit on…even if it’s by mutants or trolls. You know, it’s a pick me up. It’s nice to get complimented, you know what I mean? A little ego booster? But last night, all I could think was that AJB wasn’t there and I was bummed out.

The strange thing is, now that I’m in a stable relationship, I realize how easy dating is. It’s all about contact, communication, and paying attention to body language. It’s ironic that I figure it all out when I’m off the market. Now yes, that’s irony. As they say, if I knew then what I know now…well, perhaps I wouldn’t have taken it all so seriously and I would have enjoyed being single instead of being depressed all the time. Funny how things change and you really do get wiser with age.

And speaking of age, the great thing about Mod clubs is that the crowd is generally older, so I wasn’t the oldest person there. That’s nice. Zach filled me on some L.A. Mod club history and how back in the day, greasy rocker dudes would have gotten their asses kicked by the Mods just for showing up. He also told me about how Mods would keep razor blades under their lapels in case a brawl broke out. It’s the Mod equivalent to Cholas keeping razor blades in their huge hair. How things have changed. Yeah, nothing’s as good as it used to be. It’s the same sad story everyone over 30 talks about. The times? They are a’changin’.

BTW, I got lots of compliments on my black and white, 50′s, daisy dress. Thank you Enid and Edgar!

I called my bank immediately and they recommended I call CreativeJobsCentral.com and ask for a reimbursement. I did and CreativeJobsCentral.com said they’d refund my money in about 10 business days. In the meantime, I’m accruing NSF fees at the rate of $32.00 per day. I am currently in a deficit. Once CreativeJobsCentral.com refunds my money, I have to submit a claim to my bank asking for the NSF charges back. Meanwhile, I can’t deposit money into my account because it’ll get eaten by the NSFs. I asked CreativeJobsCentral.com to pay for the NSFs and they won’t do it. They’re mistake, my suffering.

That said, CreativeJobsCentral.com is a total waste of time. In all the time I was subscribed, not one job jumped out and screamed at me. In fact, I did better finding work at free sites.

And now for something new…um, old?

The Cure released yet another new album this week. Is this number 57? I lost track. I stopped listening to The Cure after Wish (1992), which I didn’t really like, but bought anyway because I was hoping it would be good. It was alright. Everything after that has been, what one reviewer called “phoned in” and I have to agree. Nothing Robert and the gang have released in the last 10 years has been worthy of the memories I associate with The Cure…and not even close. I sampled the new album on iTunes, you know, just in case I might want to download it from a disreputable source…but nah, I’ll pass. Just as I’ve passed on every other Cure album since Wish.

And this, my friends, makes me a sad Cure fan. I mean, you know, sadder than most Cure fans. I used to love The Cure. Love, like the poets talk about. I’d stare at my Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me poster and dream of kissing him, kissing him, kissing him. Everything they did was art and I knew, undoubtedly, that I would love The Cure forever. I was a teenager at the time. We tend to make promises we can’t keep when we’re young and love is fleeting.

The Cure is a classic example of the failure of the “quit while you’re ahead” saying. Take your chips and cash out before you lose it all! It’s the law of Vegas and should be the law of the music industry. I don’t know who to blame, Geffen Records or Robert Smith? I can’t help but think that this is all Robert’s doing. You’d think that after 30 years on the field and 12 successful albums later, you’d be able to write your own meal ticket. You’re on top of the world, you’re selling out stadiums…so why make a new album that sounds exactly like the last one? And the one before that? I don’t get it. What I love about David Bowie so much is that he is constantly altering himself. Every new album, we get a new Bowie and the songs may not be Top of the Pops, but it’s different and most of it is actually quite good. It’s different, anyway. The thing is, he tries to reinvent himself and reflect his life at that current stage. His last release, Reality (2003) felt more like a swan song, but somehow seemed like a fitting end. You feel like he’s constantly challenging himself rather than rehashing the hits. Now, The Cure? They’re a bunch of rehashers.

4:13 Dream is getting good reviews. NME is saying it’s a call-back to old Cure. Eh, I don’t think so. That is, unless you consider Bloodflowers “old Cure”. I don’t trust reviewers. Having been one myself, I know how much flak you receive for giving a bad review or (heaven forbid) saying what you really think. Official reviews are often laced with pressure to perform and the necessity to keep one’s job. User reviews on random sites? Actually, a little more trustworthy.

I won’t pay for the new Cure album. I might find another way to procure it. I’ll do it because even though the samples sound disappointing, even after all these years, I’m still willing to give The Cure another chance. Although, at this stage of the game, I’m not sure why.

A user review from iTunes that I wholeheartedly agree with:

I don’t happen to think the new single is any good, but you decide for yourself. I mean, it’s no Jessie’s Girl.

Download: rick-springfield-whats-victorias-secret