Blurbex

1. Start your Monday with some good old fashioned absurdity  – check out Rockafire Explosion, an animatronic band of animals (formerly of ShowBiz Pizza Place restaurants) who are enjoying a YouTube revival with performances of anything from the White Stripes’ “Conquest,” to Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” to Usher’s “Love in this Club.” Pictured: Comedian/cymbalist Rolfe deWolfe.

2. See the Girlie Show at the Studio at 620.

3. Listen to “Id Engager,” the new single from Of Montreal’s forthcoming release, Skeletal Lamping.

4.  For tonight’s edition of Poets Live! at Largo Library, the group focuses on the late poet William Stafford and the topic “Order.”  

5. Night three of the 2008 Summer  Olympic Games on NBC includes gymnastics (men’s team final), swimming (men’s 200m free, men and women’s 100m back, and women’s breaststroke final), women’s beach volleyball (a U.S. match) and men’s diving (platform synchronized final).  

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First, it was Bernie Mac, dead of pneumonia.

Then, Isaac Hayes, dead of treadmilling.

Who will complete the trilogy of dead African American celebs? I asked my colleagues:

“Morgan Freeman was supposed to be the first one, but somehow escaped the grim reaper in his car crash.”

“Samuel L. Jackson, he was working on a project with Hayes and Mac.”

But the best answer:

“Robert Downey Jr.“

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In today’s St. Pete Times, political columnist Adam C. Smith says it’s time for Gov. Charlie Crist to forget about any vice presidential aspirations he might still be harboring, citing the “return $50,000 of suspicious campaign donations [to John McCain] funneled through Charlie Crist’s pal and top fundraiser, Harry Sargeant III of Boca Raton.”

Earlier today, Crist appeared on CNN’s Late Edition with Wolf Blitzer and probably did little to boost his chances in McCain’s veep-stakes. Right out of the gate, when Blitzer asked Crist if he’d been through the vetting process for vice president, the governor said he was unable to comment. Blitzer then said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

After a brief, awkward pause, Crist responded, “You can take that anyway you want to.”

The balance of the interview consisted of Crist giving his support to McCain, calling him a “maverick” (where have we heard that before?) who opposed President Bush’s 2005 energy policy while Barack Obama voted for it. As he spoke, Crist looked and sounded like he was on autopilot.

When the topic of nuclear energy and Crist’s support for it came up, the guv smarmily pointed out that Blitzer’s mother is a Florida resident. It was a meaningless, patronizing reference (and one that Blitzer quickly moved past) in an otherwise Stepford Wives-like performance. Crist didn’t embarrass himself, but he also didn’t do anything to steal the limelight from Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty.

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We’ve finally found something that President George W. Bush is good at:  

Cheerleader. 

Jock prez Bush has been all over the Beijing Olympics, sitting in the stands, kibitzing with the athletes, riding the mountain bike course. After beach volleyballer Misty May-Treanor invited him to slap her on the ass – a customary gesture of encouragement – Bush obliged with a little tap on her lower back. C’mon Dubya, get into the spirit, man. She offered. And she has a pretty nice ass.

I don’t blame Bush for living it up at the Olympics. He’s the ultimate lame duck who’s just cashing in on his VIP status, milking all the swag he can get. 

It’s a bit of a sad commentary, of course: Bush waving to the athletes from the stands, winking, smiling his fratboy smile. He’s a good fan, a true believer, a total U.S. Olympic team booster. He seems so much in his element.  

Which just underscores how bad he is at everything else. At the Olympics, he is excelling as a figurehead. If only we could’ve kept him in that role for the last eight years.

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 Do yourself a favor and watch the U.S.A. Basketball team in the Olympics. I just saw them rout China, and was impressed.

Yes, there was the assortment of spectacular dunks and amazing no-look passes, but the U.S. players didn’t come off as showboaters. It’s just how they play – frenetic and fast-paced. The Redeem Team, as they’ve been dubbed (because of recent failures by U.S.A. Basketball in international competition), shows good character and consummate teamwork.

They’re entertaining because they play fastbreak basketball, keying their offense off smothering defense (steals leading to highlight dunks). (Anyone under the preposterous notion that NBA players don’t play D should watch these guys.) It’s really refreshing to witness hoops being played by magicians in a wide-open style. 

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So, it finally happens: Airport security has gotten so ridiculous, and we’ve become such fearful little hamsters, that by the end of the year, we’ll all be submitting to electronic strip searches.

I don’t want to linger on the civil liberties questions raised by the Tampa International Airport’s purchase of four body imaging machines. It wouldn’t do much good anyway, TSA already purchased them.

But if you still believe TSA’s good intentions, let me point out three things that seemed to slip by St. Petersburg Times reporters.

First, a quote by our local Transportation Security Administration spokesman John Van Dyke:

“Our goal is to be proficient with them before the Super Bowl,” in Tampa in February, he said.

Mr. Van Dyke seems to imply that these will help keep Tampa and her tourists safe during the Super Bowl. But those scanners would only scan travelers leaving Tampa, not those coming in for the event.

Second, another TSA spokesman, Christopher White, tells the Times that they will protect passenger’s privacy:

Images are deleted after viewing, and officers can’t “save, store, print or transmit” them, said TSA spokesman Christopher White.

Then tell me — how did the Times get a photo for the front of their Metro section? This is not even going into the fact that nearly everyone has cell phone cameras these days.

Third, White claims the images are detailed, but do not show nudity:

He describes the images as robotic, like someone in a tight-fitting leotard. “You can see detail, but it’s not a naked picture,” White said.

So, do you mind telling me what those nipple-like dots are on the breasts of the woman pictured on the Times website?

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This post is not about Brett Favre. Well, peripherally, perhaps. Local sports-talk radio is abuzz in the aftermath of the Bucs’ failed attempt to trade for [you know who], the main issue being how incumbent QB Jeff Garcia will react.

Garcia’s always been an underdog type — too small, not a great arm — so in one sense, he’s been through this sort of thing before; in another sense, he’s probably fuckin’ tired of it.

The question being posed is: Will his hard feelings about the Bucs courting [you know who] affect his play? I say, not a chance.

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1. See photos taken by Bay area youths, works by more than 60 local artists, wine and more during Tampa Artist Emporium’s monthly Arts Mixer on Saturday evening. Pictured below: An original shot by Megan of Alpha House.

2. Nervous Turkey hawks its new album, Fat Boy Likes to Roll, at a CD Release Party at New World Brewery this Friday night; Big Jef Special provides support.

3. Last weekend to see the Diversity in Aviation juried art exhibit at St. Petersburg Museum of History. A closing party on Sunday features talks by an assortment of aviation experts as well as an awards ceremony announcing the exhibit winners.

4. Amanda Shaw returns to the Bay area and plays a show at Skipper’s Smokehouse.

5. Musicians who peaked in the 1960’s and early ‘70’s — Jack Bruce of Cream, The Turtles feat. Flo & Eddie, Badfinger, Eric Burdon & the Animals, and a few others – take the stage at Ruth Eckerd Hall for Hippiefest.

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After Suncoast Resort announced it was closing last year, Gypsy Productions — the Bay area’s sole purveyor of gay alternative theater — found itself without a home. Gypsy Artistic Director Trevor Kellor has recently returned to the scene and stages his company’s first production in more than a year later at The Ritz in (Ga)Ybor. The play is Moisés Kaufman’s Gross Indecency: The Three Trials Of Oscar Wilde, which uses trial transcripts, personal correspondence, interviews and other source materials to document Wilde’s downfall. The show runs Aug. 29-Sept. 14.

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Sometimes I lie in bed and think about words (sometimes I think of other stuff as well). Happened just the other day. I was rummaging through my memories to come up with some of our favorite slang phrases during my adolescence in the early-to-mid-’70s.

I grew up in suburban New York, and having subsequently met folks in my age group from all around the States, it’s clear that we did not all share the same vernacular. 

When I first came to Florida after finishing college in upstate New York, I didn’t fit in too well with the social cliques in St. Pete. Some of it was a language barrier. I couldn’t stand to hear someone say “y’all,” let alone say it myself. “Y’all” was pretty common down here at the time; I don’t hear it as much anymore.

One word I brought down from up north was “pisser,” or, more accurately, “pissa.”

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