Haines Logo Text
Column Archive
December 26, 2002:

THE MICE ARE STIRRING

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, it is the day after Christmas and has anyone noticed that the fershluganah mice are stirring again? That’s all those mice do, stir, and then they incite other creatures to do the same and now we’ve got all this stirring going on, ad nauseum. Those creatures are stirring I tell you, and all because the mice incited them. Those mice should be taken out and hung, for the cold-blooded murder of the English tongue. What the hell am I talking about?

Yesterday, I attended two count them two Christmas parties. The first was at my friend Nick’s and was an intimate affair, with his family, Nectar and beautiful daughter Rebecca. His godson was supposed to arrive at four, but hadn’t arrived by five-thirty so we ate. Said godson is very young and apparently an errant and truant youth. In any case we had a lovely repast and we even got party favors – I got a lovely whoopee whistle. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too? I then headed over the hill to Cissy Wechter’s house and got there just in time to eat a second meal. I didn’t eat very much, of course, since I had already eaten like a pig at Nick’s. The Wechter kids put on a little Christmas recital which was fun, and then, at the end of it, Cissy asked me if I’d play and sing something. I was quite mortified at the thought (I so rarely do that sort of thing anymore – ten years ago you couldn’t keep me away from doing it), but I played and sang the only song I knew I wouldn’t forget the lyrics to, Chinese Food in Bed. I think I did okay because everyone clapped afterwards. I then came home, took Luckie for a nice long walk during which she did every bodily function known to man (and a few that aren’t known to man) and then I went to bed.

Today I am back on whatever diet I decide on (I will keep you posted on that news) and in the home stretch, novel-wise. Yesterday, I also happened to be at Tower and I saw Brent Barrett’s album (hard to find, however) for the first time (yes, Virginia, no one has had either the decency or the courtesy to send it to me) and do you know what I saw when I looked at the inlay card? I saw that for the first time in 130 albums my name does not appear as the producer of the album. It does appear, I am told, in the inside of the booklet, apparently alongside the credit for the “Executive Producer”. Now, at the time we did the album, Mr. Executive Producer was the payroll service, the contractor I’d employed for eight years. That was the service he performed on the album. Yet, there he is, sharing credit with me. I think that’s lovely, don’t you? I suppose what the idea is is to minimize my involvement with the album – hence, no producer thank yous, Brent wasn’t allowed (I mean he was forbidden) to thank me, and so on and so forth and also so forth and so on. I suppose that’s fine, though, because really, what did I have to do with the album? I just thought of the idea, brought it to Brent, did Brent’s deal, helped choose the material, helped finesse the arrangements, produced the album, mixed (with the brilliant Vinnie) the album, and so on and so forth and also so forth and so on. Of course, I expected to be treated with total disregard and I am happy and relieved that they did not disappoint me. I do hate to be disappointed and they have never let me down in this regard. By “this regard” I mean “disregard”. And lest anyone think this is a bitter diatribe (tone is ever so hard to know when dealing with typed words), think again. I harbor no bitterness and certainly no diatribe towards anyone. Peace on Earth, good will towards Men and Women, that’s what I say. I don’t necessary wish that to all creatures however, say the stirring mice, or the nattering weasels, or even the filthy rats. I do, of course, wish Peace on Earth and Good Will to all other creatures of the Earth.

My goodness, I do hope no one thought that was a long and bitter diatribe because it wasn’t meant to be. After all, I am just an observer of the passing parade, the cockeyed caravan known as life. That was quite deep, don’t you think?

Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below so we can have some more post-Christmas drivel?

Those mice will not stop their incessant stirring. I find it quite annoying, frankly, or even donaldly. My friend Nick gave me the brand spanking new PAL DVD of Mr. Sam Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs, which has lots of extras provided by Nick himself. I can’t wait to watch it – it is a fine film about a man who has to defend himself from uncouth interlopers and for any uncouth interlopers who might be reading these here notes I recommend watching it to see what can happen to uncouth interlopers.

Whilst I was at Tower I picked up the new Percy Faith two-fer, which has instrumental Beatles music and music from Jesus Christ, Superstar. So far, so good, as per usual with Mr. Faith. I also picked up one of those Stereo Action CDs – these were albums in the sixties with sound “your eyes can follow” where the engineers went crazy with panning from left to right. I mean, the string section would literally start out on the left and end up on the right. The trombones would start center, then go left, then go right, then end up back center, and on and on. I had all these albums as a teen and I loved them. This one, by Dick Schory, is all Broadway songs and it’s a hoot. My favorite on the album is It’s Legitimate from Do Re Mi.

Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must write until the cows come home, I must eat foodstuffs which are allowed on whatever diet I decide to be on. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, even though yesterday was really Ask BK Day. So ask your excellent questions, pull them from the recesses and the windmills of your mind. I shall be checking in frequently so do post lots and lots.

Search BK's Notes Archive:
 
© 2001 - 2024 by Bruce Kimmel. All Rights Reserved