Most of my ideas come to me while in the car. I spend a fair amount of time driving, and with nothing other than guardrails and the radio to keep you company your mind is free to wander and wonder... which mine never stops doing. I guess that's why so many of my posts revolve around music, sports and/or politics, the five preset stations on my XM Radio dial (for those of you keeping score, that would be Fred, Lucy, The Rhyme, ESPN Radio and Air America).

Anyway, yesterday I found myself in a pickle. I was facing down an insatiable craving for some fries from Penn Station, yet I live about 40 miles from the nearest one. What's a man to do? Well, if you guessed "get in the car and drive to Penn Station," you'd be right! On my way up and back I listened to a few jams from The Subways, The Hold Steady, M. Ward and The Flaming Lips via the CD player, but found myself sliding that finger over to the radio button to hear exactly what satellite radio had to offer... thus, this post was born.

Initially I ran into the Mission: Impossible theme, as composed by Larry Mullen and Adam Clayton of U2. To be honest, I hated this song when it was new. I failed to see how impressive it was to throw a few simple drum loops behind the original score and call it new and kinda still do. However, something occurred to me yesterday that hadn't in the past... I must not have been driving when I heard this the first time. I found myself lost in the song and driving my banged up Neon like a bat out of hell.

Here I go, ripping down I-64 at breakneck speeds, whipping around semi-trucks and weaving in and out of traffic. Who is that guy in the Lincoln? I think he's tailing me... better lose him in this convoy! Now, if I can just get around this minivan I'll have a clear line of sight to that black SUV... better stay on him, but not too close, I don't want to look suspicious.

The thought crossed my mind that at any point I could come up over the hill and run into the Kentucky State Police, who wouldn't understand my need to tail the mysterious Suburban down the rainy interstate. I'd have to make them understand, after all, I had to get these documents to the lab before sundown!

Whipping your mind into that kind of frenzy is fun, just a little play time on the road to pass the time. Unfortunately, when you spend several minutes as a super-spy it takes some of the excitement out of your actual destination. It's never fun to realize that you're actually just going to get a sub and some fries... major disappointment. I tried to pretend that the philly steak sandwhich was actually Polonium 210 that had to get into the hands of Scotland Yard before the Russians could stop me, but by then the radio had swithched to Mariah Carey's "Emotions" and the thrill was gone.

Speaking of Mariah Carey, has anyone heard about her plans to sue adult film star and California Gubenetorial candidate Mary Carey for using a name similar to hers? Does this actually make sense to anyone on the planet? If she actually wins this case I will immediately begin taking offers from lawyers to represent me as I take action against British IT lawyer, Rory Graham. That's right, Rory... you've had your fun, now it's time to pay up. I'm tired of you cashing in on my blog's popularity to further your 26 billion dollar global deal value. Some of that money is rightfully mine!

We'll get back to Mariah and Rory in just a second, the song just changed and I'd like to make a point.

Shiny Happy People...

Can anyone explain exactly what was going through Michael Stipe's head when he chose Kate Pierson for the duet? If there is ANY B-52 that needs to be guesting on that song it absolutely MUST be Fred Schneider. Which seems more likely to be Shiny, Happy and holding hands with Michael Stipe... Schneider or a woman? Do I even need to ask that question?

Clearly, if you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll realize that I'm not a homophobe. That having been said, has anyone ever been more gay than Fred Schneider? I'm talking in a strictly stereotypical sense. We're talking about a man that Truman Capote would have told to "turn it down a little." Fred Schneider makes Jack McFarland look like Jack Lambert (thought I'd include a link for those of you not familiar with one or the other).

Then, suddenly, I was hit with a realization. I have no idea whether or not Fred Schneider is really gay. I've never heard anyone confirm that he bats for the other team, I've never seen him making out with a guy, and to the best of my knowledge there are no stories of him slipping out behind E-Z Stop after a few cold beers to "experiment." Maybe I had it all wrong! Maybe Fred is just a flamboyant character that actually has a wife and three kids somewhere in the Georgia suburbs. Maybe he owns a hound dog and eagerly anticipates deer season with his buddies...

... no, wait... he's really gay.

Anyway, back to Mariah Carey and that sonofabitchin' Rory Graham. I'm going to go against all conventional wisdom here, so hold on to your seats. I can't stand to listen to Mariah Carey sing. I'm not saying that "I don't like her songs" or that "she's mindless pop-filler trash," although I do tend to agree with those statements, I'm actually going to say that I can't stand her voice. I know that must come as a shock, as even the most cynical music critic may take stabs at her producers or her arrangements but NEVER at Ms. Carey's vocal talent. Well, she sucks. Sure, she can hit notes that I can't, but I'm not a singer.

I've never been partial to that "hit every single note that you can in thirty seconds" crap that seems to make careers these days. Personally, I think Mariah Carey sounds like a Great Dane with a gym whistle stuck in its throat. Lots of throaty bellowing followed by some sort of high-pitched squeal that has no purpose in the song but is supposed to make me stand in awe of her vocal talent. Last year I managed to strain my groin... I made the same sound. Where's Tommy Mattola with my record contract, I'm ready to sign. Put me on stage every night, have someone kick me in the testicles and promptly deposit several billion dollars into my bank account. Paired with the billions that I plan to receive in my suit against that moniker-stealing Graham across the pond, I should be doing okay.

Speaking of billions of dollars and Europe... I've mentioned this before, but it should be mentioned again. Did anyone ever come up with any sort of explanation as to why Don Johnson had 8 BILLION DOLLARS in the TRUNK OF HIS CAR? How is it possible that such a story could just fade away? When some washed up 80's star gets busted for DUI, kiddie porn or drug posession it's on the damn news for months at a time with reality shows on VH1 to follow. Don Johnson is driving around Europe with the GDP of Africa in his trunk and no one seems to give a damn.

I'd like to point out that whether or not the 8 billion dollars in Johnson's car actually belonged to him (how does someone misplace 8 billion dollars?) or not, he was still in possession of the money when he was checked by the police. Meaning that at the time, Don Johnson was the 33rd wealthiest person on the planet... not counting what he had in his actual bank account! This puts Mr. Johnson right between Carlos Slim Helu (the wealthiest man in Latin America) and Suliman Olayan (European value investor and 20% shareholder in the Saudi British Bank) on the Forbes list of the World's Richest People. How does Danny Bonaduce get a reality show and Don Johnson not!? Get Jim Kramer off of the airwaves right now, I want Don Johnson to explain to me how I can turn my Nash Bridges earnings into EIGHT BILLION DOLLARS!

If anyone has any information as to what ever became of this, please let me know. And, if anyone knows if Don Johnson needs a drinkin' buddy, tell him I'm available!

No, really... Don Johnson was driving around with 8 billion dollars in his trunk... no... really.