It Lives!

Yes, I am still alive, and to my faithful readers (all three of you or so), I apologize. Between The Holiday, being slammed at work, and the birth of my new niece (Hi, Riley!), things have been a little hectic. And yes, I realize that, despite my best intentions and promises, I am still beginning each post with an apology about not posting more often. I just can't seem to help it. Let's move on.

I do have to add that, in addition to all the hecticness (which is not an actual word, but should be), I've been having some Personal Issues. They are not appropriate to blog about, at least not now, but they are there. So cut me some slack, people, O.K.?

Anyhoo, I saw something today on the Slate homepage that reminded me vaguely of a post from long, long ago. Tell me, whom do you think this is in the picture below? (Hint: it's a very famous musician who had a bestselling album back in the day.)













I showed this to a couple of people at work today, and only one (Raisinette) even ventured a guess--Iggy Pop. Good guess! But so, so far off. Maybe including the tagline from the photo would help?

Wait for it . . .

Wait for it . . .



Patti Smith in concert


Shocked? Yeah, me too. Not only does she totally look like a man (complete with 5 o'clock shadow--download the larger image from Slate), but she looks like a man who's been hanging out with Keith Richards for about 60 years. Seriously, what happened?

I can understand the whole, "I'm an artist who just wants to rock the fuck out and doesn't give a shit about looking hot or ladylike or any fucking crap like that, and besides, I'm old." I really can. And I don't want to sound like a petty, gossiping bitch. But you know, a little moisturizer and conditioner go a long way, don't really take that much time or effort, and might actually make you feel a little better. Even actual men use these things! I'm just saying.

I've never been a Patti Smith fan, but that's not because I don't recognize her talent--it's just not my taste. I've never been that into punk in general, and experimental punk is something I will probably never strive to appreciate at this point. When I first listened to "Horses" years ago, I expected, from the album cover, that she was a folksy, Dylaneque singer-songwriter. Actually, that's what I was hoping for, because that's what I like. Instead, what I heard was . . . punk. At least, that's what it sounded like to me. It's been a few years, though--maybe I should go back and give it another listen and see what I think.

But the fact remains that, whatever you think of her music, you must agree--some attention to personal hygiene is called for here.