Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Nevadan Sharron Angle's media blackout campaign hits LATimes.com

LATimes.com screenshot @ 5:29 p.m. today

Click on the photo for a bigger version

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Thank you Gangsta Lorem Ipsum page! 

Monday, November 1, 2010

Halloween Horror Swarm at Beverly Hills Park


Eerily-clad denizens of the Beverly Hills Active Adult Club swarmed Roxbury Park Saturday afternoon -- and were video'd talking, laughing and cavorting to "big band music" from the last century.
A good time was had by all.
"Great outfits, great dancers," Senior Recreation Supervisor Jane Winston-Doman said. "We look forward to doing this every year."

Read the whole story @ PatchBeverlyHills!








Saturday, July 24, 2010

Prince explains his royal secrets



Published in The Los Angeles Herald-Examiner Weekend, March 27, 1981

By Dennis Wilen


Sometimes even the most arcane mysteries have a simple explanation. The story behind the music of Prince is a good example. First of all, his name is not a monstrous conceit. Unlike Count Basie, the Duke of Earl and Screaming Lord Sutch, Prince is actually his given name. "It's really on his birth certificate," swears his publicist. "Only his last name is a secret."

OK. Then why, on his three albums, does Prince insist on writing the songs, playing virtually all the instruments singing 99 percent of the vocals and producing most of the tracks?

Prince himself revealed the truth in a recent interview. "It's simple," he said. "When I did the first record, I didn't have a band, so I had to do it myself out of necessity.

...To be continued as I type it all in by hand . . .


Friday, April 16, 2010

Root root root for the home team -- not!



Dear CBS News:

Traditions (or aspirations) of journalistic objectivity have long been held in abeyance for local sports scribes, who are expected to root root root for the home team.

Localites are similarly mesmerized by spectacle into thinking of the teams' fortunes as their own ("we got killed last night") even though they have neither management nor ownership stakes in the local profit-making sports entertainment troupe. They become "fanatics," often shortened to "fans."

OK, it's all a game and WTF is the fun if you can't choose sides? If you don't win it's a shame!

Which leads me to a network business reporter I heard on the local CBS News AM station, who, in reporting today's stock market losses (said by mindreaders to have occurred in response to the Goldman Sachs accusations), told his interlocutor back at the studio that "we were down over 100 points today blah blah blah."

WTF you mean "we?" Are you a Wall Street stooge?

You mean they. Them. Those *&^%$# people. The ones many folks think stole our 401Ks and IRAs and pensions and nest eggs and homes and jobs. You're WITH THEM? You and them are US?

Fuck you, asshole, I don't want another lying cheerleader. This isn't a game. If you don't win you could die.

You're not us. WE are not with you. Give us some objective reporting.

Thanks,

Dennis Wilen

P.S.: I turned the station off when the local anchor asked the San Diego reporter on the phone why a serial killer defendant decided to plead guilty. "I guess," started our long distance correspondent . . . "

CLICK. You guess? You (*&^%$ GUESS? On what was once The Tiffany Network? On the same radio frequencies as Edward R. Murrow? Fuck you!

O.K. I confess. I was a CBS Radio employee and always thought the network was a class act.

As a matter of fact, as part of Standards and Practices, I was assigned a particular network responsibility at WCAU-FM in Philadelphia (then known as Disco98) that required I go to Manhattan and train for a day or two and file reports back to HQ. I was mostly Production Director (I produced/dubbed/scheduled the commercials and other taped assets) but at the same time was the NY-designated "Manager of Continuity Acceptance."

This meant I was tasked with getting commercials on the air and at the same time SCREENING THEM for bullshit, adherence to CBS standards and the National Association of Broadcasters Code. Typically this meant sending back stuff with fake teletype news sounds or bogus alerts, fake going out of business sales, etc. or too much SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY with cheap reverb. The rule was you couldn't repeat the phone number or address more than three times.

Other commercials required special scrutiny.

If a spot came in for hair plugs, or weaves or hair replacements (Disco98's "Fascinatin' Rhythm" attracted both this kind of male listener and advertiser for whatever reason), I would send it back to the agency if it said the shit was undetectable. I made them add 'virtually' or some weasel word. Same with bogus scientific claims. This was a constant war I couldn't win, the local ad salesman pestering the boss and me, the powerless conflicted advocate of network policy and NAB codes.

Ah, CBS. They had gorgeous thick stationery in their Selectrics, and the official ink color was dark gray.

Not black ink on white, mind you. Dark gray. Classy

I shudder at what I hear on the air now.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Another relic: My Good God LP on Atlantic, 1972


This is the back cover, and there I am in the credits as producer.

I don't remember why I thanked Michael Cuscuna -- did he help hook me up at Atlantic?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Finally -- a copy of one of my Rolling Stone articles!

Finally, one of my RS articles has appeared online!

I wrote for Rolling Stone so long ago (1970!) that the stories have never been archived digitally, and I surely never had enough forethought to save hard copies.

But thanks to a new Facebook friend, one of old pieces has hit the Intert00bZ.

Hard to read, I know, but aren't we all!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Kiss me, I'm Jewish -- and Irish!



St. Patrick’s Day was  Dad’s birthday.

As long as I remember, our family has had fun with the coincidence of these two auspicious days, as we subtly mutate into Irish Jews, mostly at Dad’s expense.

We have given him presents like shamrock cufflinks and shamrock ties, green shirts and sweaters and endless dinners of corned beef and cabbage.

Dad, bless his heart, pretended like he liked it, and used to proudly point out that three times in recent history a Jew held the post of Lord Mayor of Dublin.

I hadn’t thought to look it up until today, but it’s all true, and the first Lord Mayor in question was The Honorable Bobbie Briscoe (photo above), a Sinn-Fein man elected for a one-year term in 1956 and again in 1961.  His son Ben also served as Lord Mayor.

After hearing that there was a Jewish Lord Mayor of Dublin, Yogi Berra allegedly said “Only in America!”

I say: Happy Birthday, Daddy!