Songs I Love in 88 Words or Less: "Care of Cell 44"

"Care of Cell 44," The Zombies


When I graduated from college and moved to the city, I looked for jobs in the New York Times like everybody else. Only I  started my search under "P" --for Philosophy. Surely there was a job where I could make a difference by sharing the secret similarities between Russian Marxism and the Clash ("All Lost in the Supermarket," natch)! As my blush faded--color me Pink Pollyanna--I landed at Teddy Bear Review, editing classified ads peddling googly eyes and doll wigs.

I can't help but compare it to the Zombies, who pinned all their hopes for a big hit on this song. No surprise, it's beyond gorgeous.  If I were a piano, I''d want to play it at the thought and expression of every sunrise. Who knows for sure why, but it totally flopped. I'm theorizing people felt a disconnect, when there really isn't one, between the music and the lyrics. And the Zombies broke up.

Almost 50 years later, "Care of Cell 44" is finally recognized for the piece of art it is, and the remaining Zombies reunited and sometimes play it. So here's to late bloomers--'cause for me, I know now that your dreams can lead you to a prison or a key. And ain't no one locking us dreamers up except ourselves.






P.S. Ballerina Cow postcard copyright Barry Downard 200. I added the quote.

Wordless Wednesday: You Can Get It If You Wheelie Want

For those who are so determined to win the race, even if all they've got's a bike with one wheel.

Meezer Monday: The Way You Look Tonight (At Least From the Side)

While getting a manicure in my trademark Glitzerland (just one coat) on Saturday, I read in Cosmopolitan that when it comes to men, Nicki Minaj doesn't have a type. "I do like a dope nose profile," she said, further indicating that she prefers it nice and straight.

Hmmm… I wish the article had included some visuals, 'cause I'm not sure I get where the unstraightness would come in. Like she wouldn't like a hook nose that curves down at the tip, or one that wanders off to one side as if it's been broken?

Either way, I think she'd like Mr. D's profile here, though she didn't indicate a preference about gunk in the eye. Because cats have such man-in-the-moon faces, you never think about their profiles as an indicator of personality or overall look, really. 'Cause it's a whole new world when you look at them from the side. Little snorty-lookin' pink nostrils all violin-curvy and, best of all, those close-mouthed Archaic smiles.* Oh, yeah. I do like a dope pink nose profile.

* Dang, all those classes in art history finally paid off!


Commentary for this upcoming vid: This isn't the happiest tribute to Montgomery Clift, who uttered one of my favorite-ever movie quotes. It's not a biggie, so please don't get mad if this is underwhelming, but... in From Here to Eternity, he says to the bartender, "Give her a Coke--big Coke." His delivery floors me--I can't explain. It's all about possibility and love and he likes her so much he wants to make sure her Coke is the biggest it can be, even if it's just a Coke. Maybe love is in the deets, ya know?

Wordless Wednesday: Get My Rift?

Oh. Em. Gee. I was so proud of this photo I took last week in Kennebunkport--complete with pretentious arty-farty title, "The Little Whorl That Lives Down the Lane"--until I looked closely at the bottom right-hand corner! See that swoosh?! We're all just pushing product, people, and I subliminally want YOU to buy cloven-toed devil shoes that are super cool but will eventually smell really bad if you don't wear socks with them. Which I don't.

Is it me, or is this just too freakin' brilliant:



I came in here for the special offer...a guaranteed personality




P.S. They're called Air Rifts. You know you want some!

Prune Danish

This blog gets its title from a nickname given to me by an ex-boyfriend, like way, way long ago. I thought it was sweet and funny at the time, 'cause it rhymes w/my real name, but when I think back on it, it's not nice at all. Who wants to be associated with a wrinkly old fruit known to act as a laxative? Anyway, lucky for me he moved his angry self to Hawaii and, not so lucky for me, left me with 11 snakes and a cat. I found them homes, but I'd like to publicly apologize to them all right now and acknowledge how upsetting that process was. I know it wasn't all my fault, but, heck, we all have to lie in our own bed, or however that one ends up.

Oh, I almost forgot the inspiration for my little photo-montage-collage. I've gotten 3 emails inadvertently addressed to "Prune" in as many weeks. Just an observation, really, but somehow I wanted to respond by creatin' something. And in general, I've decided to take a bigger hint from Derek Jeter, who was quoted in the New York Times, "I don’t like talking about myself. Never have. I don’t even like people who talk about themselves. If you can do it, why do you need to talk about it?”

He's essentially talking about putting your money where your mouth is, which, heck, isn't exactly the issue here…but if my money were prunes, let's just say we'd probably have to call the plumber to fix the toilet here on ssspunerisms.

Hang on to your ego!

Whole Lotta Snakin’ Goin’ On

100% recycled headline alert! I originally used this for an article on rattlesnake roundups, but is it stealing if you take something from yourself? I guess you could undermine your confidence or get high on your own supply, but headlines….Hmmm…. I’d say yes since it’s hard to really own a word. (Oh wait, that’s what trademarks are all about. D’oh!)

Anyway, this post was originally inspired by a recent viewing of Snakes on a Plane. The movie was confusing to me because I couldn’t figure out if we were expected to suspend our belief and be all scared, or laugh because the snakes were really funny. Yes, they were computer-generated but they had charisma! I read on Wikipedia that “the film gained a considerable amount of attention before its release, forming large fan bases…In response to the Internet fan base, New Line Cinema incorporated feedback from online users into its production, and added five days of reshooting.” So…someone made a calculated decision to present it as you see it now, presumably to give the people what they wanted. Which makes me even more confused, because why would they want that? I wish I understood the Snakes on a Plane-likers better.

Snakes can’t do user surveys and focus groups, and it’s just as well. Once a snake starts to strike, that’s it. He smells potential prey, which elicits a feeding response. He follows it through, he takes it as it comes, there’s no turning back, there’s no stopping to rewrite the ending. I think it’s like there’s a bunch of sequential actions that get triggered and it’s like a house of cards…(if that’s not the case, I apologize for simplifying science and stuff.)

How the heck did we get from snakes to user surveys? Marketing! We’re being manipulated! I know it’s all calculated! If I could only find solace and safety in that, I’d find total satisfaction just being a consumer…as in, tell me what I need and I’ll buy it…Don’t get me wrong, I like finding tacky Siamese cat-patterned pants on eBay just as much (more!) as the next person…I just get confused by all the varieties of M&Ms, ya know?

And snakes, well, they don’t even like chocolate.

Music to help you find your own truth (and booty)
Lost in the Supermarket, The Clash
- I quoted this song in an essay I wrote for Marxist Philosophy. Bless you, Professor Despalatovic, for not kicking my pretentious a**.

Baby Got Back, Sir Mix-A-Lot
- We used to dance to this in class all the time, until someone actually listened to the lyrics and complained. My anaconda don’t want none…