Jill's Journal (from jillsobule.com)

The Bridesmaid

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 4 May 2008 00:00:00 -0500

"Always a bride, never a bridesmaid."

This was uttered by a friend who has been married four times but has never been forced to wear the traditional unflattering pouffy rose-colored satin dress along with four other similarly uncomfortably dressed gals. Yesterday, for the first time ever, I was the bridesmaid. My pal and co-star of the Jill and Julia show, Julia Sweeney, got married and did the whole wedding shebang: bridesmaids, groomsmen, flower girls, 8 piece wedding band that played We Are Family, etc.

The wedding was scheduled at 5:00, but we had to get there (the hotel) by 11:00 for hair and makeup. I decided to go for a classic updo. I thought I looked very 1950s Protestant small town beauty queen. In fact, I changed my name to Brenda for the day and gave her a whole back-story: Brenda comes from a very dysfunctional Republican family with deep secrets and is... frigid. You never hear that only whispered word anymore, but I have been reading Valley of the Dolls. The other bridesmaids had new identities too: Liza, the secret alcoholic; Steph, the nymphomaniac; and Violet, who was a Southern belle bitch. Remember, we were stuck in a hotel room for six hours, so we had to come up with something to occupy our time.

Oh, and we started a band called... The Bridesmaids. Our hit: "We are the Bridesmaids and We're Gonna Fuck You Up."

I had the best time with this gaggle of girls. And to be fair, the bridesmaid dress wasn't bad at all, and we got to wear our own shoes -- Brenda wore weird red velvet platforms. By the way, Julia looked beautiful! I know you have to say that, but she really did.

And like I said, Julia went all out, but it was far from traditional -- at least as far as the actual ceremony was concerned. As you know, Julia and Michael (the husband) are both atheist, but they still wanted a man of the cloth to marry them, so who better than... Father Guido Sarducci! For those who don't remember the early years of SNL, he was the chain-smoking priest who worked in the US as rock critic and gossip columnist for a Vatican newspaper. He (Don Novello) was hilarious. I especially liked his water into wine wedding story where Mary said to Jesus, "they have no more wine" and Jesus responded, "okay, then, let's go." Maybe you had to be there, but we all were rolling in the aisles.

Before the ceremony, there was a 10-minute movie revealing the story of how Michael and Julia met. I won't retell it here, but you can hear it at the Jill and Julia show -- that alone is worth coming to see us.

Anyway, all and all, the wedding was a big hit. Even the wedding band was great -- I was so on the dance floor to Sister Sledge. In fact, I danced, ate little fried donuts, and drank all night.

Today, I don't feel so good, but will lift another glass of water, with drops of Rescue Remedy, and toast to the love and beauty of Michael and Julia. And, to my fellow bridesmaids: May another one of us marry soon. What do I do with my dress now?

The Other I Kissed a Girl Girl

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 26 May 2008 00:00:00 -0500

I got so excited. An email popped up last week that said The Bold and The Beautiful wanted to use my song I Kissed a Girl on their show and was offering me... $10,000! I was planning on what I would buy: a new computer, some new clothes, a Wii (the fitness version). Then, I remembered rent, car payments, and dentist bills. But still, how great!

Then I looked further down my incoming mail and saw the title. WTF -– someone has a new song, I Kissed a Girl, and it's not you!

After a Google search, I discovered that yes, there is a "new" hit song called I Kissed a Girl by someone named Katy Perry.

Have you heard it?

The first thing I did was to download it to see if it sampled or resembled mine -- actually, I just listened to the free 15 seconds that iTunes provides. I was still thinking of the $10,000. Well, it didn't sound at all like mine, and and the lyrics were more, say, "Girls Gone Wild" than what I was trying to do. But, I will not judge it ...in public. And, I must say, it is catchy.

It's just a bit annoying. You think she would have picked a different title, for goodness sake. However, my IKAG (I am using the acronym now) is admittedly over 10 years old and most of her young fans probably have never heard my version.

When my IKAG came out, it was a different time: before Ellen, before The L word, and before Lindsay Lohan had a girlfriend. It was semi-bold, but maybe not the smartest career choice for a first single. But I was proud to be one of those that broke the barrier. Now it's like ...whatever.

Yet, a poll in the LA Times yesterday said that if a California amendment banning gay marriage were out right now, it would probably pass by a narrow margin.

So... I guess it's still a Thing, and it's a good thing to sing about -- if just to get the Focus on the Family folk upset. Although a cynical friend of mine said the new IKAG made her want to go straight. But like I said, I am not passing judgment.

I wish Katy Perry and her IKAG much success. I hope people get a chance to know her for more than one song, or the 15-second sound bite. Many people still just associate me with that one song. It has always been a bit of a cross to bear.

Maybe, just maybe, I won't be the I Kissed a Girl Girl any longer.

p.s. I go into the studio this Friday. I am so dang excited and a bit nervous -- they say that's good, no?

Maybe I will change the titles of my songs: Palm Springs will be Midnight at the Oasis; Mexican Pharmacy will be Rehab.

Rupert Murdoch... My Opening Act?

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 29 May 2008 00:00:00 -0500

I am at The Wall Street Journal’s D: All Things Digital Conference -- another one of those fancy conferences that I get to go to. This one is more or less tech driven, so the speakers are folks like the founders of Facebook, Amazon, Microsoft (Bill), and lots of CEOs of companies that I have never heard of -- but maybe you all know. On my badge, I have myself listed as Founder and CEO of Pinko Records. So far Pinko has no employees or product, but my friend Norm is working on a cool logo and a t-shirt design. I’m wearing Pinko proud.

Rupert Murdoch was scheduled to open up the morning session, and I was to follow with a one-song performance. The possibility of having someone snap a photo of me, with the prince of darkness who brought us Fox News, was very exciting. I am thinking of starting my own personal photo wall of shame.

Rupert must have woken up too late, because he didn’t make it. But for me, the show went on, and I sang Nothing To Prove – a song that sort of makes fun of the music industry. The Chairman and CEO of Sony had to follow that. I bet I really showed him. Actually, I made him laugh, as I almost tripped coming off the stage.

Paula Abdul just walked by. What is she doing here? I should get her picture for the wall.

I decided not to.

I just got back from the hall where some of the companies are displaying new products. My favorite (in both a "this is absurd" and "I kinda want it" way) is this treadmill connected to a desk where you can walk and work at the same time.

Lunch time: I spot that Steve guy who started AOL. Do I try to get his picture? Is he to blame for AOL being so lame or all the spam I get? Oh, I spot Martha Stewart. She would be a good one, no? I would be too intimidated to ask, plus a really really small part of me thinks she’s kind of... hot.

I just saw the Facebook guy. He looks like he is 12.

Well... I spared you guys, like, five hours of conference blogging, but I will tell you this: I got Rupert’s photo!

And I have to admit he was quite charming and fascinating to listen to. What was most surprising was his total ambivalence and almost disregard for McCain, while he had more than faint praise for Obama. On Obama: "He is a rock star. I love what he is saying about education. I think he will win and I am anxious to meet him." How strange for the man who has given us the "Fair and Balanced, let’s still talk about the Reverend Wright, 24 hours a day" news channel.

I will be back tomorrow, but may not blog about it. Maybe I will actually listen... or sit by the pool and read my new book: Nixonland.

Mixing in the Studio

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 10 Jun 2008 00:00:00 -0500

Here at the studio in the mixing phase, so I have some time to catch up with friends, write, and wash my car. I have never seen such a dirty Prius on the road. You never see dirty Priuses. Did I tell you before how one time I almost pimped my ride? I was gonna put big chrome rims and high-rise the Prius. It was a fun idea for a moment.

Then I had this joke idea of driving it one day with Bush/Cheney stickers and a gun rack in the back. Again, it never got off the planning stages.

Should I get the new, cheaper iPhone today? Just because Steve Jobs presents a new and shiny gadget, doesn't mean I have to buy it. Right?

Oh, breaking news: I am reading that "the judicial committee officially request McClellan testimony". Hmmm, could something actually come out of it?

Don and his Hat I have nothing that exciting to talk about right now, as my mind is fatigued from listening to the same song over and over today.

But I will leave you with the studio picture of the day: Don with hat and hands.

Don't Be Jealous

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 15 Jun 2008 00:00:00 -0500

I had a surprise guest come into the studio Thursday. I was sitting by the mixing board trying to concentrate when in walked... Davy Jones!!!

Yes, Davy Jones of the Monkees! Don, the engineer, and everyone else were flummoxed and taken aback. Why was Davy Jones here? I mean, at the studio (Henson Studios) you can see plenty of recording celebrities coming in and out. The few days that I worked there I saw Dolly, Jessica Simpson and those American Idol people. But Davy Jones! And he had come to see... me.

Now, let me tell you that I loved the Monkees. When I was little it was all Monkees and Beatles. And I would sometimes mix them up. You may ask how I could do that -- like, the Beatles were the Beatles, and the Monkees were a manufactured band, not unlike the more modern boy bands or, say, the Pussycat Dolls. True, but the Monkees had great songs: I’m a Believer by Neil Diamond, Daydream Believer by John Stewart, and Pleasant Valley Sunday by Carol King. Those songs and recordings still sound good to me.

In 1995 when I Kissed a Girl (classic) came out, I was invited to be on WPLJ, a NY pop station. As I got there, they told me that Davy Jones was on the air. I got all excited and wondered if I could meet him. I wanted his autograph. The only other autograph I had was John Elway’s and the other Davy Jones (David Bowie).

They asked Davy, and I guess he freaked out. He was a fan of mine! No way! He stayed for my interview and sang I Kissed a Girl (classic) with me. I wish I had a copy. It was hilarious. He sang "dumb as a box of hammers" in that Davy Jones accent. It made no sense at all, but it was great.

Over the years, I have received a couple of letters from Davy, and I went to a Monkees show at B. B. King's in NY. But, I had not seen or heard from him in years. So, it was quite a nice surprise when Davy walked in.

By the way, just an hour earlier, John Doe (from that iconic LA punk band, X) came in to do a vocal part. Would that have been great to have both John and Davy on the same song? What a combo.

Davy knew I was at Henson Studios that day, as we have a friend in common. That same friend told me that, during the day, he used to get stoned with all the Monkees while they were on the TV set. The Monkees were stoners?

Anyway, it was great to see Davy Jones and I hope, before I die, to have him on a duet with me.

Another exciting thing about my week in the studio was that we had a ping pong table. I am not very good, but love it, and want to get better. I am going to buy a table, take a couple of lessons, and start a team (friends). What do you think? Would you guys join my team? I am designing T-shirts as I am typing.

The picture is of Davy, me, and his new hot young Monkee gal pal.

Expired Passports ...and Yanni

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 24 Jun 2008 23:00:00 -0500

I went way early to the airport -- I always am early. I am overly paranoid about being stuck in a 40-car pileup while missing my plane. I do forget that I am usually on JetBlue and they are at least two hours late these days. Also, I triple check that I don't forget anything. So, I got to an empty counter and showed the Air Canada woman my passport and... "Miss, your passport has expired."

What?!

"But I have a show in Toronto this afternoon, and it’s... it’s really important."

This wasn't like begging someone to let you slide on the extra 5 pounds of luggage, so you don’t have to pay the $60 fee. I have done that many a time. No, there was nothing she could do. She was actually nice and suggested I could fly to Buffalo and drive to Toronto -- you can just use your driver's license that way.

I called the woman at the conference where I was scheduled to play and told her my dilemma -- that my passport had just expired the day before. I... lied. It expired in September. How did I know? They should call you or something, like gyms do when your 2-week trial period is up. Anyway, I was not about to cancel.

So, I took a cab from Buffalo to Toronto. The cab driver was sweet but wanted to talk about his musician brother from Albania, who happens to play violin for Yanni. The driver handed me a portable DVD player and showed me Yanni -- Live in Las Vegas!

Wow. I can’t even describe it. I was mesmerized. A still longhaired and Magnum-moustached Yanni, surrounded by synths, directed, what looked like, a 70-piece band. It was a blend of River Dance, Middle Eastern Music, and bad New Age, with a Pink Floyd Laser light show. Surprisingly, it took the edge off my journey, but I still wasn't sure I would make the show on time.

I arrived at the venue just 40 minutes before I was scheduled to appear. I was calm as could be -- thanks to my cab driver, herbal Xanax, and Yanni.

By the way, my friend was house hunting in LA, and almost bought the house where Yanni and Linda Evans (Dynasty) lived. I just thought I would tell you.

I was so glad that I got to Toronto just in time to see Jill Tatar speak. She was the astronomer that the movie Contact was sort of based on. She heads the SETI Institute -- Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. Jill invited me to see the facilities. Maybe, on that day, we will be lucky.

My Week So Far

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 9 Jul 2008 22:00:00 -0500

I went to the dentist yesterday to replace 3 old fillings. I was not too happy about it, but if you have to go, you might as well go to the "Beverly Hills dentist," as I call her. First, you get to put on these futuristic video sunglasses that are connected to an iPod. I watched 5 Jon Stewart’s in a row, turning the volume up to 10, so it would drown out the drill. Then a woman comes in and asks you if you want your feet massaged ...the entire time!

It did make the session go faster and not as anxiety ridden. Although I am not sure it was quite as good as my old hometown Denver dentist, Dr. Greene, who gave me nitrous oxide and painkillers. The only entertainment he had was a Peter Max poster on the ceiling, but somehow it worked.

I am a huge Mad Men fan. And I found out that the creator is also an old fan of my music. So, yesterday I was invited to see the set and some shooting. I was hoping to meet the guy who plays Don Draper and the sexy secretary, but they were not in the scene. However, I did get to have lunch with Matt (who is so nice as well as genius) and the writers. I was telling them that "we" should write Mad Men: The Musical. No one seemed excited. But, hey, can’t you see it?

This Kissed a Girl biz is getting to be a bit of an irritant. People are always getting my song confused with the new one, which, by the way, has become a huge hit. If this were the East Coast / West Coast Hip-Hop rivalry of the 1980s, I might have pondered popping a cap in Katy Perry. I joke about it, but maybe I will do a third version. It could either be really boring we kissed, did more, got gay married in California, went to the sperm bank after we found out our best male friend had mental illness in his family, had kids, found out how tiring it was, had no time for kissing anymore, etc. Or, I could make it really... filthy. Any ideas?

Oh, by the way, Howard Stern said on his radio show that he liked mine better. Now that's an endorsement.

And talking about the gay thing, here is my favorite news story from last week:

The American Family Association’s OneNewsNow site has some sort of auto-correct that replaces the word "gay" with "homosexual." I guess this far-right Christian site thinks that there is nothing gay about the lifestyle and they want to take back the word. The problem came when they reported on Tyson Gay winning the 100-meter race at the Olympic trials:

Tyson Homosexual easily won his semifinal for the 100 meters at the US Olympic track and field trials...

The Injustice of Digital Distribution

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 17 Jul 2008 17:34:00 -0500

I want to talk to you about an injustice. I know there are probably bigger problems facing or nation: gas prices, the mortgage crisis, the war, and... Andy Dick's arrest (for urinating in public and pulling down a girl's tank top), but there is one thing that has been bugging me big time, and I suspect some of you too.

I pay for music. I use iTunes...a lot. It's just too easy, and you can do it from the iPhone. But you would think for $0.99 that you could get information on, not only who the composer of the particular song is, but also on the musicians, producer, and yes, being the geek I am, the engineer. Oh... and want the lyrics. I love to read them as I hear a song for the first time.

Am I the only one that misses looking in the booklet of a CD to find out who the drummer is? When I was preparing for my up and coming next record, the name Jim Keltner came up as a potential drummer. I jumped at the chance, as he played on some of my favorite records growing up (like those post-Beatles solo albums). I knew his name from studying the inside of album covers.

Maybe I'm old. Maybe, in an era of manufactured pop, no one cares who the programmer or session musicians are. But dang, I knew who played on the Monkee's records (The Wreaking Crew). And, I would like to know, for instance, who Mark Ronson (Amy Winehouse's producer) hires to play on his records. Who is on the latest Beck record? And, on a personal note: who did Katy Perry write her "I Kissed a Girl" with?

Am I alone in this?

Trying to succeed as a musician or a songwriter -- meaning being able to pay rent -- is hard enough. Let's at least give credit where credit is due.

Who do I talk to?

The Opening Act

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 22 Jul 2008 12:00:00 -0500

(Originally written for Performing Songwriter magazine)

It was the first day of the tour. I saw her sitting outside by the bus and thought I should introduce myself. I thanked her for having me open the shows (like it was her choice) and then proceeded to tell her how much a particular song of hers meant to me. She replied in a rather unenthused manner, "Yes, I have heard your music."

"Yes, I have heard your music." How should one take that? What does that mean? Anyway, I could tell right away that we probably weren't going to be BFFs, but I kept trying. One time I complimented her on the dress she was about to perform in. She said, "Yes, I am trying to get in touch with my more feminine side. I used to dress sort of butch and had a haircut, well ... like yours." At that time I had really short hair, but thought it was cute and pixieish -- at least until that night.

In spite of all that, I love being the opening act. You only have to play 45 minutes (or less); you can get back to the bus or hotel early and watch lots of pay-per-view; the weight of bringing people into the show isn't on you (i.e., if there was surprisingly low attendance, it wasn't the fault of the girl with the short butch haircut); and you meet a new fan base -- I have loyal fans to this day who have discovered me by going to see Lloyd Cole, Billy Bragg or Warren Zevon.

For the most part the main act has been very generous and kind to me. A wise man once said (or I just made it up), "You can tell a person by how he or she treats opening acts and waitresses." I have been both many a time.

People warned me about Warren, and I heard horror stories of how abusive he could be. So I thought, "I will stay completely out of his way, mind my own business and be as silent as a mouse." Plus, being a huge fan of his lyric writing, I was naturally intimidated.

The first few dates went well. His fans seemed compatible; basically, they listened. I think I said two words to him like, "Hi" and "Sorry" (I tripped over his luggage). This giving-him-space approach seemed to work until he came into my dressing room.

"What's the matter? Do I have leprosy or something?"

After that, we did become BFFs. We ate together, did sound checks together and sang together. He came out for a spirited duet of "I Kissed a Girl," which really made no sense but was way fun. He asked me to join him on his next tour, where it was just him, his road manager and me on this big-ass bus. I would watch Law & Order in the front lounge, and he would watch the dirty channels in the back. One time I noticed a small group of people gathered by the back of the bus before a show. Warren had some porn movie on and didn't realize the blinds weren't drawn. So I played vice squad, ran in the bus and shut the whole operation down ... much to the disappointment of the peanut gallery.

The point is that the one you thought would be the biggest asshole of them all turned out to be a sweet pea. A really surly sweet pea, mind you. I heard similar horror stories about Joe Jackson, Paul Weller and Don Henley. They all turned out to be swell fellows who gave me, their opener, a sufficient amount of respect and, more importantly, made sure I got my allotted sound-check time. (Unlike a certain singer-songwriter touring on his first hit, who was such a little diva. He spent two hours every sound check going over his whole set and didn't allow me my lousy 15 minutes. No wonder the band sounded tired and bored come show time.)

Cyndi Lauper not only gave me plenty of sound-check time, but also let me share her dressing room, borrow her makeup and drink her wine (somehow she always got the $70 Barolo on her rider, while I got "the freshest wine"). She even shared her hotel room with me one night when I didn't have a reservation. (Usually, while Cyndi and her band stayed at the Ritz or Four Seasons, I would find the local whore motel or, when times were flush, the Red Roof Inn.)

And then there was X, that seminal L.A. punk band. They invited me to ride on their bus. I thought this could be exciting, as I had heard stories of decadent drug- and booze-filled nights -- except I was 20 years too late. After the gig, we played cards and the game "who would you rather sleep with or die." Not very rock 'n' roll, but a good time, nevertheless.

But this is boring -- let's get back to the negative. Let's talk about the worst person I ever opened for. The boy diva and the first performer I mentioned might not have been bundles of joy, but they certainly weren't mean ... or mean on purpose. Not even Shelly Zissman, the girl who made my seventh-grade experience miserable, was this mean.

I was the third act on the bill, and I guess she didn't know there was a third act-which meant she had to cut 10 minutes from her performance. So from the very beginning she was unhappy with my mere presence. I tried really hard to be nice, but anytime I acknowledged her she would give me a look like I was some stinky, crazy homeless man. And it wasn't just me being paranoid. Everyone on the tour, including her tour manager, apologized and were perplexed by the extent of her nastiness.

I tried not to let it get to me. I was more amused and fascinated by it -- until she made a rude comment about me on stage. That is so uncool! You don't do that! I would love to reveal to all of you who she was but that would be uncool! You don't do that. (Although, if I see any of you at a bar and you buy me a couple of rounds, I might open up.)

I like to think of myself as a team player and one who is not competitive in the icky way. But I have to say, something evil kicked in. My sole purpose in life was to kick her ass, by doing the best show possible, and to beat her in ... merch. That's right, I was going to sell more T-shirts no matter how much of a discount I had to give. Before my last song, I told the crowd I would sign CDs after the show. I might have added something about "my six kids on food stamps."

And guess what? I won! By a lot! I was like Carrie at the prom, although I'm not sure the woman in question knew or even cared about my "revenge." (Revenge might be a moot point when the other party doesn't participate.) To celebrate my victory and merchandise fortune I spent the last two nights of the tour at a Westin. I even spent $20 on a Diet Coke, Pringles and a miniature bottle of Jack in the mini bar.

This fall, I hope to release my new record and go on tour. I will probably do a combination of shows, some opening and some closing. If any of you somehow find yourself as my opening act, I promise to be nice and give you the adequate amount of time for sound check. If not, call me on it right then and there. At least before you write anything about it.

Drilling, Girls Gone Wild, and my very very last post on I Kissed a Girl

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 15 Aug 2008 21:00:00 -0500

I was sitting in the dentist chair (once again) trying to hear the music over the sound of the drill. Music helps me, even more than the Ativan they advanced me, to relax. When all of a sudden, I heard the first few notes of I Kissed a Girl! The Katy Perry version.

Did I do something wrong in another life? I was reminded of Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man, with Laurence Olivier as the Nazi Dentist. I could not ask them to change the channel as I had a mouth fool of power tools. I did raise and wave my hand. The doctor thought I needed more Novocain.

It reminded me of the time I met David Blaine, and he was trying to figure out his next stunt. He was going to attempt to stay up for 8 days straight, but his doctor friends said that could cause permanent brain damage. I suggested watching a constant loop of the new movie Mama Mia for that week. He was scared and appalled.

Well, I survived the surgery and the song. But I did follow with an extra strength Vicodin.

I must say, in reality, the song doesn't really bug me. In fact, it's been sort of fun, and gotten folks to go to mine ("I Kissed a Girl Classic"). Good for Katy Perry and her team of writers. I swear this is my last post about it.

However, last week, Wendy and Lisa (of Prince and Heroes fame) worked with me on a third version! We did it just for a goof. I think it's pretty rocking ...although a part of it reminds me of Eye of the Tiger. And that might not be good. I do love those girls. They are nice, as well as talented freaks of nature. I should post it soon. Maybe one of you will do a video for it.

One last I Kissed a Girl comment:

Someone sent this quote to me. It was on a thread on this blog, "I love music":

"... but the more I think about the difference between Perry and Sobule, the more I feel like the two songs encapsulate the difference between '90s and '00s culture. Sobule kisses a girl because exploring your sexuality is a very cool, PC thing to do; Perry kisses a girl so she can plaster the photos on Facebook."

On that note, I will post this picture. Dave Carpenter, my amazing bass player, was with his son on the log ride at Knott's Berry Farm. They had no clue what the girls behind them were doing. Another dumbed-down, Girls Gone Wild moment. But it does make me laugh... a lot.

Gyms, Quincy, and Bark Obama

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 24 Aug 2008 02:30:00 -0500

I decided to finally join a gym. I have delayed the process as: one, it's not really my bag (exercising), and two... I hate gyms. Especially the big ones where people wear the fancy gym clothes and have really good, but stupid, arm muscles. Well, I finally found a tiny humble gym where nobody goes – and it's walking distance from my house.

Today was my first day. I went on the elliptical machine... the one with the TV attached. It only had 12 working stations, including six in Spanish and 3 religious ones. On channel 17, I learned that Obama is probably not the Anti-Christ. Thank God! This came from Christian author, Tim Le Hay, who gave us the Left Behind series. I actually read one of them on an airplane.

Then I switched to ...Quincy. He was investigating a case where a gymnast had fallen off the balance beam and died. It turned out she really died because she had some kind of thyroid problem and was fed amphetamines by the coach. My favorite scene was when Jack Klugman tells her parents the truth. And they reply, "Are you calling our daughter a speed freak?"

What was interesting is how the sport has evolved. The girls were showing off their Olympian skills, and it was so lame compared to what I saw two nights ago in Beijing. But they all had that Mary Lou Retton haircut.

I think this must be the most boring post that I have ever done. Quincy?

But now I am going to push a friend's product: PetsVote.com. You can get your dog involved in the campaign. You can either go for "Bark Obama" or " McCanine." If you go on the site, you can see that the Obama dog shirt is outselling McCain almost 4 to 1. I wish the real polls were that good for "Bark."

It got me thinking about this: What if you were at a dog park and single, and it was one of those dog parks that I read about somewhere, where people walk their dogs as an excuse to meet other singles. And you meet this really attractive guy or girl who is really smart and had a compatible sense of humor. And his/her rescue dog really likes your rescue dog. And then, you plan to meet again at the same time tomorrow. You are excited and nervous; you get both yourself and your rescue dog groomed. Then, you meet him/her, look into each other's eyes; you get all goofy; you look down, and then see... his/her dog has on a "McCanine" shirt. What would you do?

Update: Now that Biden is in, could they make... "Joe Bite 'em"?

Four Days in Denver

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 4 Sep 2008 11:00:00 -0500

Last week, I wrote a blog for OurChart on the DNC in Denver. I'm sorry it took this long to get it up on my site, but I have been stymied by trying to come up with lyrics for my new hit, I Kissed Sarah Palin (yuck):

Day 1

My mom picked me up at the airport. I am from here. I moved away 20 years ago, but I still follow the Broncos - just to give you some background info. On the plane, a temporary crown fell out while eating the complimentary wee bag of pretzels. You see, last week a molar cracked all the way to the root. (The dentist said it could have been because of my sometimes bad habit of chewing ice or an extra hard carrot.)

Anyway, if I smiled wide, I looked like an inbred hillbilly - this was not the image that I wanted to present. So, instead of going downtown to the Convention, I went to my mom's dentist. And that wasn't all... When I opened my guitar case after the plane ride, my Collins (a really fancy guitar) had a huge crack in it also. I had to get that fixed, too. Everything was falling apart! So, my day was shot, but in the evening I had a show at Red Rocks with Apples in Stereo. I played a few relevant protest songs, including the one about my secret affair with Condoleezza Rice. But the highlight was a duet with my 75-year-old mom of Nelly's Hot in Herre... really.

I hope to have a better and more informative post tomorrow. I will play at the Huffington Post Oasis lounge, will try to look for and interview crazy right-wing protesters and will take advantage of the free food and alcohol.

Oh, here is a shirt I stole from my friend: Lost meets Obama:

Day 2

It has been great to see my hometown look like a real vibrant city. Downtown is crowded - the bars and restaurants are packed and the police are in full riot gear. The other thing that is different is that the town is chock full of celebrities from Hollywood to Washington. Now Denver is no hillbilly town, but one is not used to seeing... stars - minus the local weatherman and one of the Broncos' wives. So, I thought it would be great to take my mom to all my events.

First stop: The Huffington Post Oasis lounge. The idea of the Oasis is a space where harried and multi-wired bloggers and delegates can chill out, tune out, get a massage or a free yoga lesson, while of course... still networking. Arianna asked if I could provide some music. However, when I got there, the head yoga woman asked me what my music was like - she was worried I would ruin the vibe. She pretty much told me not to play.

Now, I'm not Yanni, but I'm certainly not the Buzzcocks. Anyway, I was very okay with that, and was happy to just hang out and have a mini-facial. Plus my mom got to meet Will.i.am, who said, "your daughter is really talented." That would have been more impressive if my mom knew who he was. But she was excited to hang out with Fred Armisen - she knows his Prince impression.

After two fun and, yes, relaxing hours, we were about to leave when Arianna came up and asked, "Jill, when are you playing?"

I told her that the yoga woman told me not to. She said, "No, you should play." Now, when Arianna tells you to do something... you do it. She is tall, beautiful and badass. So I sat on the couch and did my best new-age guitar playing.

Next Stop: The Human Rights Campaign's "Rock to Win." We walked in to 3,000 ecstatic homosexuals cheering Hillary on the giant TV screen. I was so glad that my mom was with me to experience the love and energy of the community - as well as see Rufus Wainwright and Cyndi Lauper perform. Hillary did what she needed to do, but more importantly... my mom met more celebrities. Here she is with Margaret Cho.

Day 3

It was an exciting day. I left the world of hobnobbing and mini-facials (the Huffington Post Oasis Lounge) for good old-fashioned lefty politics.

I was very grateful to be included in a panel of The People Speak, a forthcoming documentary film from Howard Zinn (The People's History of the United States) and producer Chris Moore (Project Greenlight). The People's History was the main textbook in my Freshman Poli-Sci class and has been an influence on me ever since.

Among the presenters were Josh Brolin reading a stirring and disturbing Dalton Trumbo passage, Rosario Dawson reciting an Emma Goldman speech and Kerry Washington channeling Cindy Sheehan. I (the least famous, for sure, and lucky to be there) sang two old timey Joe Hill songs. I also met Staceyann Chin, badass spoken word poet and OurChart contributor! Her reading of a Marge Piercy poem shook me out of any performance anxiety I might have had.

Now, like I said, I was there for the politics, but I still had my mom to think of. In my last post, I told you that Denver does not get many celebrities. So, one of my goals for the week was to have my mom meet as many as she could. She will be the envy of her Mahjong friends.

After the panel, I was hoping to catch my friend Wayne Kramer and Rage Against the Machine. I was too late, but I got to walk through the protesters and the riot police (who looked a lot like ninja turtles). Everything seemed relaxed and peaceful when I was there, although a little pepper spray might have spiced this blog up. There is always tomorrow.

Day 4

The highlight, of course, was being at Mile-High Stadium (I refuse to call it Invesco Field) to see Obama speak. It was worth waiting in the three-hour line to get in. Along the way, there where colorful people selling everything from Obama buttons, T-shirts and pennants to homemade CDs of original songs about Obama.

There, of course, was the lone loon with a "you are all headed for hell" sign. My seat was close to Pluto (not even a planet). The speakers looked like little dots, but I didn't care, as the energy was incredible - plus I could see it all on the big screen. The only thing I could compare it to (in my life) was seeing the Broncos (at Mile-High) beat Oakland for the AFC championship and... watching the pyrotechnics go off when Paul McCartney went into the big section of "Live and Let Die." I know that's lame, but I was young, okay?

The thing that really struck me the most was... the flag waving. I am no flag burner, but I have never been a flag waver. I know it's wrong, but I always associated it with pro-war, far right wing, homo-hating intolerants. And what a shame: despite all our sins (as cataloged by Howard Zinn), the stars and stripes are also pretty great. That night, I was proud to be an American (like the Lee Greenwood song). I saw the multitudes around me picking up their free flags and waving them with joy. I lifted mine high - like a foam finger at a Broncos game... but better.

By the way, on a whim, I did a goofy version of I Kissed a Girl (classic) with my pals Wendy and Lisa. Please forgive the added 7th grade lyrics at the end. Enjoy.

Thank You, Russell Andrews

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 18 Sep 2008 12:00:00 -0500

I thought it was gone for good. Those last iTunes purchases and photos were definitely gone for good. Last month, I left my laptop on the train — the number 2 train going towards Wall Street. I just had a lot on my mind. I'd been overwhelmed by all the meetings with prospective publicists, distributors, Internet marketers, a manager, and a new breed of people that ask for your money: the ones that work on your... "brand." For $1,800 a month, I can brand "Jill Sobule." Are any of you guys branders? What do they do? Can't I just make a bunch of iron-on patches with a logo?

Still, it is no excuse for leaving your computer on the train. When I am stressed, I misplace or lose things: hats, books, cell phones, and especially house keys. Twice, I have gotten out of a cab without my guitar. I was lucky both times, and got them back. So when I realized that I didn't have my computer, I tried not to panic. People are basically good, and they will turn in something so important to someone else.

I called the lost and found number about 40 times until I got through. The guy said that nothing had been turned in, but I could try to go to the booth at the station at the end of the line, which was at South Ferry. Before I hung up, he had to tell me how unlikely it would be that I would get it back. He said, "It's not like in the old days. Back then, people wouldn't steal someone's computer." Back then they didn't have computers, I thought to myself.

I went down to the South Ferry station, but they didn't have my laptop. The guy there did say to check back later. I didn't give up, and called every day for the following five days. No luck.

Then, I started getting paranoid about the information on my Mac. I had unpublished songs, business stuff, personal information, including all my emails. Thank God I didn't have any of my LSD orgy parties on video.

But there was nothing I could do, so I just tried to forget about it.

Almost four weeks later, I get a call from Russell Andrews. Russell works at the South Ferry station. He said he had been holding my laptop for a couple of weeks, and finally found my number.

I couldn't believe it! I was so happy. Then Russell said, "Yep, you got a lot of good music on it, and I can tell you're a musician. I'm a musician too." He also was very impressed that I had a picture of myself with Davey Jones of the Monkees.

So...Russell basically knows my whole life.

It could have been creepy, but Russell seemed really nice. For some reason, I didn't care that Russell went on my computer. In fact, he probably knows me better than most of my friends. And you know what? Russell didn't judge me. Nope, and he liked my musical tastes.

Yesterday, I had my friend Tony pick up the laptop, as I am now in Los Angeles. But when I'm back in town next month, I'm going to the booth at South Ferry, with gift in hand. I want to know more about his life. And who knows; maybe he knows something about branding.

Jill's YouTube of the Week

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 21 Sep 2008 20:00:00 -0500

The Debate Party

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 5 Oct 2008 12:00:00 -0500

It was the night of the VP debate, and of all nights, I had a gig. How could we have known, three months ago when we booked it, that Sarah Palin would get in the way? Would people show up? Would I show up?

Well, the performance began at 8:00 and the debate was at 9:00. If all went smoothly and I didn't play the songs too slow, I could be out the door almost in time. However, I would have to find a nearby bar that would show the debate, as opposed to the Cubs game. Michael Robin, who helped organize the concert, was in charge of this most important assignment. As it turned out, the show turned out great, people came, and Michael found a bar just two blocks away. We made it!

But something was very odd at this normal looking mid-town drinking hole. Every time Sarah Palin said something "folksy," there would be this huge roar from the floor below us. And every time Biden opened his mouth there would be hisses and boos. I was confused. This is New York City -- what evil was going on in the basement?

As soon as I walked down the stairs, I was hit by the strong scent of men's cologne (gross). I saw dozens of men in suits and ties, with no sideburns and a fair amount of hair product. They all looked like that Upper East Side yuppie date rape guy from the 1980s. The women were not bad looking, but had that Laura Ingram, Ann Coulter vibe. One enthused drunk kept yelling at the TV screen (Fox News, of course), "I love you, Sarah!" The crowd of about a hundred strong were all in agreement. What was going on? Where the hell was I!?

At a NY Young Republican Party.

It was like I was in an exchange program -- my year (or night) abroad in some backward (yet rich) country where they still don't allow Jews and Blacks into the country club. It was kind of... Mad Men like. Sure, I know Republicans: my step-dad, my brother, and my cartoonist friend. But they are reasonable, smart, and thoughtful ...albeit slightly misguided. This scene was a whole other story. This wasn't just about taxes.

I went back upstairs and told my friends about the hell house below. None of them wanted to venture from their seat and drink. Only Yves (my French friend) dared to descend. I told him that I wanted to get in a fistfight. I have never been in one, and think it's one of those things I should do before I die. So, there we were, looking very out of place -- I had on my "rock beatnik" outfit and Yves looked ...French.

As soon as the cheers for Sarah Palin started up again (It might have been that time when she winked), Yves started laughing inappropriately really loud, obviously in a mocking manner. A couple of pinstriped, cologne wearing, date raping young men turned and gave us the evil eye. Rather than engage, I ran, yellow-bellied, back upstairs to my comrades and cocktail. The fistfight would have to wait. But at least I can write about it.

Jill and Julia, Fatwas, and a Testimonial from Davy Jones

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 6 Oct 2008 20:00:00 -0500

I am playing two shows with Julia Sweeney (the Jill and Julia show) in the Little Room at Largo in Los Angeles, October 16^th & 23^rd.

Last month, Julia and I were asked to play at an Atheist Alliance awards show and present the "Richard Dawkins Award" to Ayaan Hirsi Ali. A disclaimer: I am not an atheist (I can't quite go that definite; I do consider myself a hopeful cynic), yet I'm glad that these folks are here making sure that kids aren't taught that Adam and Eve had a pet T. Rex -- however, Fred DID have Dino.

But most of all, I was very exited to meet Ayaan Hirsi Ali. She is the brave outspoken proponent of women's rights in Muslim countries, and the author of Infidel. Julia and I were told to keep the recipient of the award a secret, as Hirsi Ali has a fatwa against her!

My imagination went wild. What if, by association, somehow, I ended up having a fatwa too? Would I go into hiding? Would it be good for my career: record sales, a popemobile, and rugged looking guards with earpieces? Would I just be a coward and wear a burka at my concerts? Could I play guitar with one on?

Well, as it ended up, we never did meet her. The security at the event would have been too expensive to have her. The award was presented via video hook-up.

Anyway, I thought I would tell you the story. And, here's an mp3 of the song Letting Go of God, that will be played at end credits of Julia's movie of the same name -- soon to be on Showtime!

It's also Halloween time (earlier and earlier). I have also posted a live song that I played on NPR last year -- Slutty Halloween.

At the studio, when recording the record, I had a visit from... DAVY JONES!! He wants you all to know how he feels about me.

If you're bored, go to my personal website, check out the new products, Prozak and the Platypus, and Jillsnextrecord.com. And please feel free to contact me. I could have good suggestions for your relationship problems.

Fake Thunder and Lightning

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 27 Oct 2008 15:00:00 -0500

My friend (and SpongeBob SquarePants composer) Eban Scheltter has released a fun scary (in a 50s horror movie way) Halloween record called The Witching Hour. I was happy to have added my voice on a couple of the songs. Among the other performers were Grant Lee Phillips, comedian Paul F. Tompkins, and my favorite ex-Naked Trucker, Dave "Gruber" Allen.

I sing Some Things to Know About Monsters:

Frankenstein is not the name of the monster
It's the name of the scientist that gave him life
So if you run into the monster, don't act like you know his name
Try calling him "Sir" and he just might treat you nice

If you're in LA on October 29th or 30th, The Witching Hour will be performed at the Steve Allen Theater (4773 Hollywood Blvd., Los Angeles). Tickets are a lowly $10.

Semi-funny story: I sang in last year's show. I had on a kind of creepy prom dress and was made up by a professional horror movie stylist. I looked, not like a sexy zombie, but a super scary awful zombie. After the show, I had to run to a recording session. I had no time to take off the heavy make up (and scars). I was, of course, self-conscious. But when I got there, no one batted an eye. They were more concerned and spooked by the look and shape of the legendary substance abuser and front man of the Pogues, Shane MacGowan. He out-Halloweened me without trying.

Sunday, I was at my local market. There was some kind of costume contest going on. Here were some of my faves!

And for news of my other activities, check out my latest blog for The Huffington Post.

Searching for the Republican Artist

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 30 Oct 2008 14:00:00 -0500

(Originally written for Performing Songwriter magazine)

We're all just raisin' McCain
I said we're all just raisin' McCain
Everywhere across the U.S.A.
You can get on the train or get out of the way
We're all just raisin' McCain

--Raisin' McCain by John Rich

John Rich, of the country duo Big & Rich, was the big music star at the Republican National Convention in Minneapolis. He sang his new anthem, Raisin' McCain. I was actually surprised that he was a Republican (maybe because I had him confused with the Fu Manchu-mustached cowboy from the Village People). The only other musicians I saw on the televised coverage of the proceedings were fellow Muzik Mafia members Cowboy Troy and Gretchen Wilson.

Now, no matter what your politics are -- or your musical tastes -- you have to admit that the Democrats have way more musical options to choose from.

Just think of the Democratic National Convention in Denver's Mile High Stadium, where Stevie Wonder, will.i.am, John Legend, Michael McDonald and Sheryl Crow sang between the speeches. Other major pop stars (Moby, Death Cab for Cutie, Kanye West, Bono, Randy Newman and more) were flown in to perform at various events and parties during the week.

It's not that the Republicans don't try. They have, for instance, used songs by John Mellencamp, Jackson Browne and Van Halen during the campaign. That's until those artists told them to ...stop it. Sarah Palin may be a barracuda, but Heart's Ann and Nancy Wilson didn't let her sing it.

Which brings me to the question: Why are there more acclaimed and varied artists on the left than on the right? And that's not to say that there aren't plenty of sucky liberal songwriters out there -- someone just sent me their un-ironic song about Sarah Palin, rhyming whalin' and sailin'.

Maybe there are great Republican artists out there of whom I am not aware, so I Googled "republican musicians songwriters." What I first found was the MySpace page for some guy from Orlando. He made a list of Republican notables. First among the "Republican rock stars" mentioned were Alice Cooper, Gene Simmons and Marilyn Manson. How awesome would that have been to have them together doing a medley of their hits on the convention hall floor? I would have tuned in, for sure.

Then I saw a recent magazine article on the "5 Biggest Democratic Musicians and 5 Biggest Republican Musicians." Number one for the Dems was Bruce Springsteen. Number one for the other side was '70s gay cowboy look-alike John Rich. I will admit ignorance of his song catalogue -- he could be great -- but can you compare him to the Boss?

The Nuge (Ted Nugent) was No. 2 on the Republican lineup. Of course, that was no surprise. But No. 3 did take me aback: the late Johnny Ramone. I have always thought of punk rock as rather left-leaning (unless it's of the white supremacist variety). I connect it with the Clash, Billy Bragg, Dead Kennedys and later-generation bands like Green Day. Could this be the same guitar player who performed the anti-Reagan song Bonzo Goes to Bitburg? I wonder, though, if alive today and after the last four years of the Bush administration, he would have still stuck to his guns (at least the metal variety, as he was a big NRA guy).

Kid Rock was No. 4 (again, no surprise) and a favorite of Sarah Palin's, according to Meghan McCain, John's daughter. Meghan said of Palin, "She's totally hip with music." Pam Anderson, Rock's ex, by the way, is for Obama. People magazine told me.

Number five was country great Ricky Skaggs. You can say that country artists, in general, lean Republican. But classics like Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson are Dems who have also been very outspoken against the war. If I am not mistaken, Obama, on that Mile High night, closed his speech with Brooks and Dunn's Only in America. The duo has not asked Barack to stop using their song -- ironically, the same song George W. Bush used at his last convention. Kix Brooks said it's "very flattering to know our song crossed parties and potentially inspires all Americans." Even that archenemy of the Dixie Chicks, Toby Keith, says he is a Democrat (albeit a very conservative one who twice voted for Bush). Also, Nashville-based Music Row Democrats are my MySpace friends.

Oops, I just read, as I was editing this, that the Music Row Democrats, which started as a political action committee for 2004 nominee John Kerry, disbanded last February. No wonder they haven't answered my emails. I did see, however, a new political group called Music Row for McCain.

Disclosure: Yes, I am a Democrat (surprise). And I was one of those "progressive" artists who volunteered to play in Denver for their convention week. Yet I am open when it comes to talent and the arts. For instance, I do not let the politics of former Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson get in the way of my Law & Order enjoyment. I like Skynyrd. And if and when I finally dig into the songs of John Rich, I will try not to be biased.

But I would guess many people do let their party affiliation or "world view" affect their iTunes purchases (or free downloads). In fact, I am friends with a fine singer-songwriter who happens to be really, really conservative. I have to admit that is a bit of a rarity in these circles. Because of that, he has been somewhat paranoid that his career would be in jeopardy if he came out of his political closet. It's not right, but he may be correct. So it got me wondering if there are more secret Republican pop or alternative artists out there. And conversely, are there modern country and Christian recording artists who are afraid to show their support for Obama? To be "Dixie-Chicked" is now in our vocabulary.

And what about Republican hip-hop and R&B artists? I tried Googling that one, but came up totally empty. Although James Brown became a Republican, Ray Charles might have been, and Sammy Davis Jr. got in hot water for hugging Richard Nixon in 1973. I didn't even waste my time looking up gay Republican musicians.

So again, why do people in the arts tend to be more liberal? That's a huge and complicated question. Could it be a left brain/right brain thing? One person goes to business school, while the other majors in creative writing or feminist art history -- you know, the "liberal arts." Maybe it's the spirit of rebellion and danger -- Rage Against the Machine vs. Amy Grant. I know that growing up I was influenced by the politically charged songs of the late '60s and early '70s, as well as early punk. There is a lot more passion and possibility in lyrics that deal with social injustice as opposed to, say, tax cuts. Music comes out of the underdog, the oppressed or those who empathize with the underdog and oppressed. However, I guess that could also include the white working-class stiffs who somehow feel snubbed by what they perceive as the unpatriotic, Christian-bashing, gay-loving elite. So I really don't know the answer. All I know is good music is good, no matter the party affiliation of the artist or writer. Maybe I'll download a John Rich song and give it a try. It just won't be Raisin' McCain.

Last-Minute Campaign Songs

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 3 Nov 2008 23:00:00 -0500

Everyone has forgotten the third party candidates. So, I thought, even though it is too late, that I would write campaign themes for Bob Barr (Libertarian Party) and Ralph Nader (I forget what Party).

Bob Barr:

We need a strong man. We need a strong guy
To run the country like Magnum PI
Barack and McCain their faces are shaved
Bob Barr's Mustache in 2008

Ralph Nader:

If you just wanna be an asshole once again
Vote Nader

My last Pro Prop 8 song:

It's Not the Sinner, It's the Sin

It's not the sinner it's the sin, it's not the sinner it's the sin
When the end times begin, We're all sinners
We don't want to take their rights
It's really them that caused the fight
They want to ruin my wedding night
It's not the sinner it's the sin

If Adam and Steve they marry, what will happen to us
I heard some terrible things are happening in Boston

They'll teach our first graders, the Agenda they'll promote
Your son will soon be wearing ass-less chaps on a gay pride float

From the song I wrote for public radio Sunday:

On the AM Radio Dial

He's a Marxist, Commie, Socialist Pinko
Loves gay marriage, friends of a terrorist
Went to a Madrasah, doesn't like Hadassah.
and he's way too skinny

He's exotic, not US born
He never wants to win a war
His wife is angry and there's more
Did I mention Rev. Wright? Did I mention Rev. Wright?

The Drive by Media thinks he's great
Did you know in college he dealt cocaine
And another thing we've found
Still a member of the Weather Underground
He's a smooth talkin' Messiah
He's a Tony Resko lovin' liah
He's not for the babies, he'll take your gun
I heard he's Malcolm X's son

This is what I heard on the AM radio dial
This is what I heard on the AM radio dial

If somehow he wins and the end times begin
The only thing you'll hear in your car...
Is NPR

This is what I heard on the AM radio dial
This is what I heard on the AM radio dial

Prairie Home Companion 24 hours a day!

And This song I actually think I want to record. I wrote it last week with my pal Robin Eaton. It's a waltz.

The Loneliest Guy in the World

He used to wake up and have things to prove
He'd put on his crown and tie his shoes
Everyone wanted an interview
He could never get enough sleep

He had kingdoms to conquer and dragons to slay
We thought of him several times of the day
Now he's forgotten and just gone away
Faded away

He's the loneliest guy in the world
He's the loneliest guy in the world
He's the loneliest guy, we're all saying goodbye
To the loneliest guy in the world

Back on the ranch, he's clearing the road
Once upon a time, the giants roamed
Now the whole place is overgrown
Not even the kids want to visit

His mother's heart broken, his father is shamed
His brother's so pissed, he ruined the name
And the woman he loves doesn't kiss him goodnight
She closes her book and turns out the light

He's the loneliest guy in the world
He's the loneliest guy in the world
He's the loneliest guy, we're all saying goodbye
To the loneliest guy in the world

And the very last one. And truer than ever:

All I Do is Watch The News

I can't wait for this to be over
I want back my life
Cause all I do is watch the news
I even read it on my phone

I don't work and I don't sleep
Don't call my mom, and I don't eat
All I do is go on the news

I watch the Rachael Maddow show
twice in the same night
and then I go on Hannity
I have to hear the right

The Huffington Post, The New York Times
and the The Drudge Report
I'm gonna have to go to Rehab
after the 4th

On the Plane, Leaving Nashville

jill@jillsobule.com (Jill Sobule) — 11 Nov 2008 14:30:00 -0500

I sometimes play this game in the subway or on a plane, especially when I forget reading material. I try to guess people's occupations, or if I a had a million dollars to give away, what I would buy them.

For example, the guy to my right -- I am in the middle seat in coach -- has on a blue polo, jeans, a Vanderbilt baseball cap, and cowboy boots. I'd say he is upper middle class, in his mid thirties, and right of center. He is reading a Tom Clancy like thriller. Let's see... I would say he's in the country music business. If I could give him a gift? How about courtside tickets to the Lakers game while he is in LA? He's gotta like sports, no?

So that's the game. But now I have a new edition. Who did they vote for? This guy obviously was for McCain. Maybe he helped (being in the country music industry and all) get Hank Williams Jr. to some of those McCain or Palin rallies.

Okay, the girl next to me, doing the Sudoku in the back of the airline magazine, is a tricky one. She looks like she is in her mid twenties. She has on a plaid shirt, jeans, and Chuck Taylors. She has sort of a bowl haircut. She reminds me of Harriet the Spy. On first glimpse I thought she was gay, but now I am thinking more backpacking survivalist. I bet she is off to California for some kind of twenty-day trek in the desert. Career? She manages a hiking store and is still writing her thesis. Gift: I would her a ticket to Patagonia and a really good massage. Politics: I would say Obama, although she could have a little third party Green in her.

Now it would be really great if somehow I could follow up on my conjectures. I wonder how far off I am.

One case in point: on my way to Nashville, on the plane, I saw this really cute skinny-jeaned alt-rock type boy. He had a cool haircut, a cool ironic t-shirt, and his arms were covered with rather pretty and tasteful tattoos -- as opposed to Warner Brothers cartoon characters. Career? Duh! He is in a band. Plus, I saw him put up a guitar in the upper bin. Gift? I would get him an old Silvertone guitar and a big gift certificate to Amoeba Music, for old vinyl. Politics? Obama of course! He's a young rock musician! I felt pretty confident about this one.

As I was waiting for my bags to arrive on the carousel, I saw a banjo come down the chute with a McCain sticker. No surprise. I love the banjo, but, in instances, it could be slightly Republican. So you can imagine the shock I felt when I saw my cute alt-rock boy grabbing for it. It was his banjo! My mind had not been so messed up since the time I discovered this guy who worked at my old record company wasn't gay. He seemed very sitcom stereotypical. One day he invited me to have lunch with him and his "wife." I thought, how cute and funny, he calls his boyfriend his wife. I felt good that he knew he could be out and open with me. When I got there he was with some woman. It was his wife! I still have not recovered.

So, now that I think about it, maybe I should have looked a little closer. Maybe I should have seen the details. My alt-rock boy seemed a little too perfect, a little too healthy and clean. There was a lack of edge, but I can't exactly pinpoint what it was. Maybe he looked like the Disney version of what a rock kid looks like. You know, my friend Kevin styled the Jonas Brothers for a couple of years. He gave them their look -- I just thought I would tell you.

Maybe just because someone looks like a hipster and carries an instrument, it doesn't automatically mean they were part of the Obama voting movement. But remember... that instrument was ...a banjo.

Well, I'm done with the guessing game, and will maybe try my hand at the Sudoku.

Oh, no disrespect for the Banjo pickers out there.