first the backstory.

this is riley martin:

check out his website for the full scope of his life’s work, but suffice it to say, i consider him one of the greatest storyteller’s alive today, a world class radio broadcaster, and an all around groovy motherfucker.

the reader’s digest version is he was abducted by aliens at a young age, taken aboard their craft, and introduced to many different races of alien species before being released to come back to earth to spread the word of their existence and to share their wisdom with humans in order to save the world. life has taken him “from a sharecropper kid to a mothership near saturn.” talk about a life’s work …

so riley used to appear on art bell’s am radio show coast to coast, and since howard stern moved to sirius satellite radio, riley has had a show on stern’s channel once a week.

his show is incredible. he and his co-host eron take calls and riley pontificates on his experiences with alien races like the screed, the biaviians, the targzissians, and the nyptonians. some people who call in are busting his balls, some people are sincerely curious, some people are just winding him up, but he always stays on point and always keeps things moving.

so a few years ago i wrote this song called ‘membrane universe.’ here it is:

trippy space tune inspired partly by this quantum physics book my friend todd got me about schrodinger’s cat and partly by god knows what else …

anyway, i got the idea to add a little riley martin to the mix, so i recorded one of his shows and chopped up the clips and made it all fit. riley was the magic track that really made the song. in the end it is pretty much a duet, and riley is telling the story.

the thing i realized, though, in chopping up riley’s words and taking them out of context and playing with them outside of time and space, was that riley is really a spiritual teacher of sorts for the modern times. i don’t say that jokingly. i mean he’s really getting at some of the big questions about life and existence and love and peace and happiness, and his overall message is one of kindness and compassion. i’m saying all this as a guy who, to put it kindly, is ‘skeptical’ of spiritual teachers in all forms. but there’s a sincerity to riley, and something about how he tells his story that comes across as really beautiful to me. funny, warm, lighthearted.

it’s bigger than the aliens.

anyway, (finally) the real story:

so chicago mel and i are hanging out the other night goofing around. for some reason, we ended up putting membrane universe on the stereo, and i got the idea to send riley a copy of the tune. the next morning, i dropped a cd in the mail to ‘biavian enterprises’ along with a note to riley that said i was a big fan, explained the song a little bit, and thanked him for all the great radio.

and then i forgot all about it.

so i’m laying on the couch yesterday and the phone rings in the other room. i don’t answer. the phone rings again and i don’t answer. i lay there a few more minutes, get up and check the phone. new jersey number. new voice mail:

needless to say, that was a trip. i called riley back and talked to him for about fifteen minutes. cool fucking dude.

told me he never touched a woman he didn’t love … at least when he was touching them.

told me he’s going to have to talk to stern personally about his pathetic salary.

told me he’d send me a copy of his cd.

told me he could become a preacher and get rich anytime, but he made a promise to some little men long ago to spread the word this way, and he’s gonna honor it.

told me i could use the old man’s voice anytime i wanted, cause i used it right.

told me he’s gonna gimme a plug on his show coming up. might get some new traffic to the ole blog.

so those of you with sirius (all eight of you), tune in to howard 101 on tuesday night at midnight EST and see what riley’s got to say about it all.

you never know what you’re gonna get.

this is worth ten minutes of your life:

jesus.

i’m going to reiterate a point christian made earlier about the – how do i say this? – perceived shallowness of the lovely bride to be and her beau.

chelsea clinton, daughter of a former president, daughter of a former senator, daughter of the secretary of state. raised in the white house. born. of. privilege.

fine.

nothing wrong with that.

here’s where i get confused.

you’re born to two people who – on the surface at least – have made it a point to at least speak to the plight of working people. bill clinton was born poor, hilary wasn’t anything fancy, they had to earn what they have. they spent a good deal of time and energy in their lives in public service at least attempting to do right by people less fortunate.

then their daughter – the recipient of all their hard work and success – gets a first rate education and when she enters the work force she takes a job at … wait for it … avenue capital group, a hedge fund. her husband-to-be is the son of a former congressman (an ex-con who spent time in the fed lock-up for fraud) and a former congresswoman, and he works for … wait for it again … goldman sachs as an investment banker.

now, sure, work is work and they’re both free to do whatever they want with their lives and everything else. and the world needs hedge funds and investment bankers, evidently. can’t get enough of ‘em.

but … come on, man. i mean, these two were born with silver spoons in their mouths and have apparently decided that their purpose in life is to see to it that their children will be born with diamond crusted silver spoons in their mouths. i don’t know. it just seems like the easiest, shallowest, most lucrative, least imaginative, safest, most decadent path to take from two people who could have done anything with their lives.

boring and unoriginal.

lame.

they’re probably giving all their money to charity or something, but that’s not even the point here. the point is, you could have done _anything_ with you life, and you chose to work for a hedge fund?

stunning.

to each her own.

***

recording with flatbed. we tore through it’s getting hard and iron rails – fucking mega, really – but got a little lost in colorado. don’t know. the lap steel and the shaker seemed to help, but we’re still moving on to something else next time. might just need to let it … sit.

lefty did this to himself. i came in the room and he looked up and i saw this:

these are pictures of people in baton rouge trying to look like people from florida. for a yankee like me, the subtleties of this were difficult to grasp:

this is what third place looks like. jimmy’s costume was to pin a bunch of food on himself in plastic bags and to go as “jimmy buffet.”

this is kurt cobain and a kitty:

***

in other news, a lizard just ran across my desk. i’m letting him be.

***

times are a changin’. for the better, i reckon.

in the end, all is always forgiven.

and time’s wasting.

and you’re not gonna live forever.

***

feeling like slowing it up a touch before hooch’s! next weekend. i’ve been on a bender.

should be a ball up in makanda. i’m bringing fireworks and boudin and maybe schmitty and lindsey. and we’re slaughtering chickens (to eat, not for fun) and riding on party barges.

vegas is on for matador 21, although our ticket situation is fuzzy. me and paco and scotty are gonna try to share two tix to the shows. but dh and nader and paco and kd and scotty and chin and george and our ralph are all gonna be there ticketless, so it’ll be a lot of stupidity regardless.

flights from nola are down under $200.

yes!

***

finally, here’s two brilliant clips from the stern show recently.

first, a little swap shop fun courtesy of richard and sal. they email these poor dip shits at swap shop who mindlessly read everything live on the air. priceless.

next, the stern show visits comic-con and interviews this guy whose idea for a super power is amazingly fabulous. pardon the less than pristine recording, i made it while driving.