Friday, March 04, 2011


How to make Lex's head explode, step 3. Show this picture of Olivia Munn

That right there is a wolf-jenny on a hinkerstink, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Charlie Sheen got on twitter and, out of habit, Charlie paid twitter $10,000 and gave it a sexually transmitted disease.

A Northwestern professor created controversy by having a naked woman provide a sex-education vibrator demonstration in class. The sex-education demonstration wouldn’t have have caused a stir, but it was a macramé class.

In Portland, a dog ate part of a diabetic man’s nerveless foot. Lucky for the man it wasn’t a wiener dog.

Charlie Sheen calls his house the Sober Valley Lodge. Sadly, it resides on the corner of Coke Blvd. and Hooker Avenue.

Charlie Sheen’s nearly-two-year-old twin boys were removed from his drug and porn star-ridden house and they will be sent to a more stable environment: Moammar Gadhafi’s Libyan palace.

Charlie Sheen’s nearly-two-year-old twin boys were removed from his house he calls the Sober Valley Lodge. The children are now in a healthier environment called The Anywhere Charlie Sheen Is Not Hotel.

They decided the environment wasn’t fit for a toddler who can barely walk, talk and isn’t fully potty trained. But Charlie Sheen is staying there anyway.


Lex’s tip on how to grill the perfect steak on the gas grill



Buy a good steak. My choice is a marbled bone-in rib eye. Marinate in olive oil for at least an hour. Mo’ bettah.

Make a rub that is equal parts garlic powder, sea salt, pepper, Old Bay and finely ground coffee. Really rub the rub into the steak.

Since I am using a gas grill for the second step to get a smoky flavor, I crush an entire clove of garlic into a bowl and add enough water to cover and let it sit.

Heat the grill on high. Sear the steak on one side for two minutes, flip it over for a another two minutes, turn down the burners and flip it 90 degrees for cross marks for three minutes, flip again, throw the garlic paste on the burners – make sure the top is closed so the garlic smoke stays in - and grill for the final two-to-three minutes. About nine minutes total. Maybe ten. I want juicy medium rare. Red and juicy, not cold, cooked through, but NOT grey/pinkish and dry, i.e. medium.

Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and let it rest under tin foil for a couple of minutes .

Sauce? Cup of red wine, big splash of chicken broth, big splash of soy sauce, a dollop of ketchup, a little honey, garlic powder, simmer until fairly thick.

It is official

My obsession with Olivia Munn and “Perfect Couples” has officially reached Laurel Canyon music scene levels.

Oh, speaking of Laurel Canyon (oh, crap, no) just got a great book titled “Canyon of Dreams: The Magic and the Music of Laurel Canyon.” By Harvey Kuberik. It is sort of a scrap book of photos and observations, but it has quotes from the real players of the time. From the real players like Lou Adler (He is the weird old guy in the funky hat next to Nicholson at Lakers games) Ray Manzarek, David Crosby and Joni.

Guess what? My conspiracy theory that Manson was one of the main suppliers of sex and drugs to that scene? Not true. He was for a time with Dennis Wilson and Neil Young and Doris Day’s son and Beach Boy producer, Terry Melcher, but he was pretty much just a whacky wannabe. Not a big influence.

You know what was a huge influence on Laurel Canyon music in the Sixties? The Brits. John Mayall introduced the blues to rock and folk. He was a fatherly teacher who schooled Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page on the blues. He even brought in the greats to perform in LA, like Junior Wells and the Mud man.

The Brits could not get over how Laurel Canyon and the studios on the strip were so close together. In England the music bidness was in London and the country was way out. Never the twain met. They could have both next to each other in Los Angeles. So Graham Nash, Jimmy Page, Eric the C, Keith Richards, David Blue, Donovan, Van Morrison and Joe Cocker taught the harmonizing folk hippies, Stephen Stills, Joni Mitchell and David Crosby a love of the Chicago-style rockin’ blues.

With Graham Parsons and Johnny Cash and Glen Campbell pushing for the country side, the essence and ingredients of the California sound - folk meets pop meets blues meets rock meets country - was cooking like a nice, brown bubbly chili in a cast iron pot on a Laurel Canyon wood-fire stove. (Wow, Lex, you can really paint a word picture)

Blow me, inner tirade.

You know who was damned by feint praise, avoided or downright disrespected on this scene? The Eagles. Before they came up with a name, the other musicians called Don and Glenn the Egos. That, says a well-connected source, is how they defensively came up with the Eagles.

“No, they’re not calling us the Egos, they’re calling us the Eagles.”

Neither admit it now, but unlike Ned Doheny, J.D. Souther, Randy Newman, Ry Cooder, James Taylor, Richie Furay, both Henley and Frey were Troubadour wannabes who didn’t rank with the more talented artists who got stage time. It was out of a charitable gesture by all accounts the sweetest and kindest person in the music industry, Linda Ronstadt, that they got their first job backing her up at Disneyland for $25.

The Eagles guilt/angst over making it so huge over way more talented musicians can be heard in the lyrics to “Sad Cafe.”

Some of the dreams came true
And some just passed away
Some of them stayed behind
Inside the sad cafe

Say what you want about his ego, my man Don Henley can write his ass some lyrics. But the Eagles made a lot of money for their songwriting pals like Souther, Jack Tempchin, et al.

“The Monkees” were a watershed moment for this scene. The music industry in L.A. in the late Sixties was an off-shoot of the film industry. “The Monkees” were some out-of-touch a-hole movie studio head’s idea of a rock band and Don Kirshner. Stephen Stills refused to join because they demanded the publishing rights to songs and Stills was already selling a lot of songs.

Nobody on the scene blamed the members of the Monkees, in fact, they said Michael Nesmith and Peter Tork were awesome singer, songwriter, guitar players. The hip Laurel Canyon purists hated the corporate packaging and control of the Monkees.

When the Eagles emerged without a respected songwriter besides Bernie Leadon, the hip crowd put them down as a slick corporate packaging ploy more along the lines of the Monkees than purists like Buffalo Springfield, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Little Feet, Crazy Horse, the Flying Burrito brothers, Randy Newman, Ned Doheney and Gram Parsons. Of course, Parsons and Doheney could afford to be purists, they were filthy rich trust fund babies. So was Newman, his dad won an Oscar for music like he eventually did. Frey and Henley were broke and needed money to buy cowboy boots and silver and turquoise jewelry so they could get laid.

It is surprising how many of the big players on this scene, either from the performing side or the music industry side, were just bored rich kids looking to jam, hang out at the Troubadour, get high and get laid. Joni Mitchell and James Taylor all came from pretty well-to-do families who staked them to their start. The ones who couldn’t sing ended up on the business side like David Geffen and Lou Adler.

The historic pattern of the Eagles seems to be generosity rewarded with abuse. Linda Rondstadt was generous to pick them for her Disneyland band when there were more established artists at the bar of the Troubadour to choose from. Henley eventually dated and dumped her.

Jackson Browne took Frey in to his apartment in Echo Park. Frey used his infamous “change a word, take a third” on Browne’s 98% finished “Take it Easy.”

Joni Mitchell said Frey stole her chords for “Best of My Love” while they were dating.

Bernie Leadon was generous to even join the band as he was the only well-established artist in the band. They dumped him before “Hotel California.” David Geffen was very generous to sign virtually unknowns Henley and Frey (Meisner had briefly been in Poco) to his burgeoning label, Asylum. Henley sued him in a toxic/ bitter dispute during his solo career.

Don Felder gave the Eagles their signature legacy, “Hotel California” he was dropped and sued for wanting the same equal-shares deal the band had always agreed on for the reunion. Only so much of this can be blamed on their evil troll manager, Irving Azoff.


More "Sad Cafe" lyrics:

Now I look at the years gone by
And wonder at the powers that be
I don't know why fortune smiles on some
And lets the rest go free

See above, Don. Forget love 'em and Lear 'em, it's use 'em and lose 'em. What is that fortune/saying? May you never get to know your heroes.