There’s a trend in social media called “confess your unpopular opinion” where people say things like “I like mayonnaise on a hotdog” or “The Beatles are overrated.” I usually go with, “’Back to the Future’ movies stink.” Like most things on social media, this trend has zero significance. Disliking something popular isn’t “edgy.” Music and art is a matter of taste and if you don’t care for the Beatles, then that is a perfectly fine reaction to art but it doesn’t make them “overrated.” People love to use Carrot Top as an example of a hack comic. Hack comics don’t make $10 Million a year; they make your $5 Footlong at Subway.
A popular opinion among people who have no idea what they are talking about is that Ringo was a lucky bystander, swept up in the storm of Beatle mania and allowed to undeservingly succeed from it. Or if they were participating in the above trend, they would tweet “Ringo was great.” Ringo is great; you are the one who stinks. Continue reading →
I don’t dance in public often. Except for being filled with a rare combination of alcohol and a well-stacked wedding buffet, I can’t say I dance in public ever. Alone in my car or the shower is a different story. There, should the mood strike, I’m pretty good on the fake bass guitar and lead vocals. Sorry you had to see that.
Anyway, last night I went to see a little ole band from Texas called ZZ Top in a theater in downtown Charleston. It was fantastic. Three guys don’t make it for forty plus years in the music business being terrible. The concert was great and the Top delivered like they always do. The people I was sitting around, however, did not with a capital “Dammit.” Continue reading →
My father thought I only liked the song because it had the word “bitch” in it. You can’t avoid it. The word is in the title. The song is “Ain’t That a Bitch” by Johnny Guitar Watson. I guess it was a sneaky way to get away with cursing while singing along, but that’s not why I listened. It was a logical conclusion for him to make given that I was a young white boy living in the comfortable suburbs of Charlotte, NC and the song was about a black man struggling to get by. He’s working forty hours, six long days. They are working poor folks to death and when he pays his rent and his car, he doesn’t have a damn thing left. How could I possible relate to that? But I did. Continue reading →
Drunkenly, I love to try and relate to cab drivers. Not in some prick way like trying to make the “plebe” driver feel loved. No, it’s my own anxiety that makes me do it. I can’t stand being in the car with someone else in silence. If the dude can’t speak English, then I can justify the silence to myself, but other than that I have to talk. Continue reading →
I’d like to crawl out of the “gutter” a minute and publish a lovely email I received today from an unhappy customer of Covered in Beer. I put my “knitting” piece on Ravelry.com, which is a forum for people who knit, just to see what they thought about it and to hopefully give them a laugh. Satire never hurt anyone too badly, but apparently it did this woman. I obviously added the graphics and links to enhance it a bit. I edited it by breaking up a few long paragraphs, but I didn’t add or remove any words. I can’t wait to hear if you agree with my new friend Beth and her annoying email address.
Thank you to everyone who has checked out this dumb little blog, Covered in Beer. There has been a great increase in traffic this week. I’m glad to see most people liked what they read. Please don’t forget to check out my page Funk Music Friday. Hopefully, there will be some music there that you can discover or rediscover such as the Ohio Players, “Who’d She Coo?”: