Things you don't see every day: a hillbilly with a man-bun

I was just pulling out the drive when a white Dodge pick-up went by. Maybe a four inch lift with big tires that stuck out four inches beyond the fenders flares. You half-expected to see a set of truck-nutz hanging off the trailer hitch.

What a concept, truck-balls. Really? I mean, where would your head have to be at to come up with that idea? 

Hey Jeb, ya know what would really set yer rig apart? Some pretend testicles danglin' off the back!

Anyway, no truck-nutz; quite a relief, and almost a surprise, because surveys show that fake truck balls are more likely to be seen on Dodge trucks than any other brand. In fact, scientists have never seen such a phenomenon on any foreign trucks. Send me a pic of a Tacoma, Tundra, or Titan with pretend genitalia, and I'll send you a free Falling Downs beer cozy.

So Billy-Bob pulls over down the road to chit-chat with a chap on a tractor, and Holy Mother of God, if the youngster piloting that Dodge isn't sporting a friggin' man-bun that would be right at home in the Fruit Belt in Toronto!

Yup, when ole Bobby Zimmerman told us the times were a-changin', not even he could have imagined where we'd end up. Guys with man-buns driving jacked diesel trucks...

What the fuck is next? Gay farmers?

Iconic Canadian rockers sell out... to Walmart!

That's not what I would have expected.

It hit me hard when I saw that shabby Dylan commercial during the Superbowl. Bolshevik Bob shilling for a post-bailout Chrysler. Shilling for one of the American car companies that used guile and deception to weasel out of their responsibilities to their workforce.

But that's nothing compared to the loathing that overwhelmed me when I realized that Rush has lent their good name to no less a capitalist behemoth than Walmart.

Walmart!

Then again, I shouldn't be that surprised. Rush always had a somewhat dodgy relationship with the Aynn Rand school of fuck-everybody selfishness.

Rush.

Working Man.

Walmart.

The end may indeed be nigh...

Super Bowl 48: a blowout and a sellout

It was a big night for Pete Carroll. After a million years in the trenches he's finally made it to the very top. Good on him!

And good on Russell Wilson. Absolutely superb game, and with all respect to Malcom Smith, Wilson was the MVP tonight.

Ya, it was a blowout. From that first snap you didn't have a good feeling if you were a Denver fan.

Sellout of the night? Bob Dylan shilling for Fiat/Chrysler. What the hell was that about? It is inconcievable that Bob Dylan needs the money. That was the low point of the evening.

Neil Young defies Israel boycott, announces Tel Aviv concert

His friends in the BDS movement won't be pleased, but rock icon Neil Young hasn't ever been about pleasing anyone. He just does what he does; critics, fans, media be damned.

That's what I like about the guy.

Neil is scheduled to play in Tel Aviv July 17. Neil is indeed one of the most "important and influential figures in the history of rock music." I admit I didn't realize the extent of that influence until a few years ago, when the story came out about Bob Dylan prowling Winnipeg looking for Neil's childhood home.

When no less a rock icon than Bob Dylan is paying homage, you know you're a big deal.

gone, gone...the damage done

It took me a long time to realize what a mensch Neil Young was.

Back in the day, I was busy buying records by Dylan and Deep Purple and Black Sabbath...

The damage done...

I knew a few guys who had gone down the H highway.

It was a great gig till it wasn't, and by then you were dead.

Got to thinking about that last week when it came out that Lou Reed had gone to his reward. Lou kept on keeping on, writing songs about the big H his whole life. Most of his listeners never figured out what he was on about.

I have to admit I didn't give Neil his due till the story came out that Bob had been sniffing around Winnipeg looking for Neil Young's boyhood home.

I'd once spent an entire day sniffing around Winnipeg looking for a house that was on the cover of a Guess Who album.

Never found it. Retreated back to my room at the Oxford Arms in the bleakest of black depressions. Had I known then that Bob Dylan would someday spend an afternoon looking for Neil's house, I would have kept looking for that Guess Who album cover house.

But that was then...