A Hell of a Mess...

Adventures in Pain...

I appear to have been slightly remiss in my blog updating.  I think I had a good excuse, though.

About five years ago or so, I was diagnosed with gout. (This after having been in excruciating pain for about three days.)  It didn't pop up too often after that - maybe once every six months or so.  Until this year, that is.

In the past few months, I've had about half a dozen attacks.  Some have been worse than others, and the end result is that I'm taking mediaction to help deal with it.  The problem, thusfar, is that it really isn't helping.

Thanks to Thanksgiving dinner (either caused by the turducken or the ridiculously rich gravy), I had yet another flareup that is still yet to completely go away.  My anti-inflammatory meds weren't really helping, and the end result was me limping around work for a few days over the weekend and the first couple of days this week.

The end result of this has been adventures in homeopathic relief.  Namely, in the form of cherry juice.  My research (since everything you read on the Internet is true) found that certain types of cherries have enzymes and the like that are effective in treating gout and preventing future attacks.  I bought a bottle of 100 percent black cherry juice and drank it the other day -- in about five minutes.

The end result?  I'm feeling considerably better than a few days ago.  I've been through three bottles of this juice, and while it tastes awful, the pain is just about gone.  My foot is still swollen, and I'm learning the hard way about the laxative effect of cherry juice, but I'll take that over the horror that is a gout flareup in the joint of the left big toe.

When we last left off, I was going through my top five Steinman songs.  I got to number 5, and fell off the face of the earth after that.  For today, we'll do numbers 4 and 3.

Like 5, 4 is an instance where the artist would probably never make another of my "best of" lists.  (Unless, of course, we're talking about the hottest singers from Quebec, because she's certainly hotter than Corey Hart, Aldo Nova, or Gino Vannelli.  But I digress.)  Thanks to YouTube (again), I can bring you Celine Dion's version of "It's All Coming Back To Me Now."

Number 3 is the first of two Loaf appearances.  This one is where he'd do anything for love, but he won't do that.  (And no, don't ask me what "that" is.)

Speaking of things one would not do for love, I recently learned that, of all people, Screech was the second former cast member of "Saved By The Bell" to do revolting things on film while nude. 

Of course, Elizabeth Berkley was the first, and it involved shit -- that is, the entirety of the movie "Showgirls."  The sad part about Screech's film is that it, too, involves shit.

In my absence...

...several things happened.

1) I got sick, then well, then sick again.  (Actually, I was sick and on my way back to well a week ago, but the relapse began over the weekend.)

2) I wore a poppy to work last Thursday. 

3) I went to Phoenix this weekend with my wife, Megan.  She stayed there, and I flew home.

And last, but not least -- I bought the new Meat Loaf album. Like locusts coming back every seventeen years, so comes another Bat Out of Hell album.  And the only thing I really can say about it is:

Not enough Jim Steinman.

Sure, this album has Loaf covering the Steinman song that Celine Dion recorded back when she wasn't a Vegas lounge act.  But Bat Out of Hell III isn't the wall-to-wall Steinman that the first two were. And to me, that's disappointing, because Loaf with Steinman is considerably better, by and large, than he was without.

As a completely random feature, I'll chronicle my top five Steinman songs over the next few entries.  Keep in mind that these are not all Loaf songs - in fact, there is less Meat here than non-Meat content.  Number five (which, thanks to YouTube, is provided below), "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All," may be the only time I ever put anything done by Air Supply in a "best of" list.

(Unless, of course, I do a list of top 80s videos featuring singers with afros that glow red under proper stage lighting.)

Today's public service announcement

If you live in the US, have registered, and you haven't done so already, vote.  I don't care who people vote for (except for the fact that I hope that the candidates I voted for win), but the right to vote -- irrespective of the ballot cast or the position supported -- is too precious to let slip by.

This link says more than I can

http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/1120AP_Naked_at_Waffle_House.html?source=mypi

It's election season...

...and though I said there would be no discussion of politics on this blog, I am waiving that rule for this post to offer my first (and, likely, only) endorsement for this campaign.

It does no good, however, unless you live in the First Congressional District of Iowa.

The Shelf Of Crap: Fabio After Dark

At my first job, my co-workers and I started a tradition of buying each other the crappiest things possible for birthdays and Christmas.  There were a couple, for example, who kept buying each other the same laserdisc movie - "Cool As Ice" by Vanilla Ice - for a couple of years.  (In fact, this was the same copy - the one who bought it would take it back to the store and exchange it for a better movie, then go back a few months later and buy it back.)

One year, we found this CD and bought it for a co-worker.  Somehow, I believe that I ended up with it.  This was the beginning of the Shelf of Crap.

"Fabio After Dark" was released in 1993 by Scotti Bros. Records -- not too long after one Fabio Lanzoni made the leap from trashy romance novels, and not too long before he couldn't believe that it wasn't butter. Were I Fabio, this is one stop I'd rather prefer to forget.

The album is, in part, a compliation of cheesy love songs (such as "Suddenly" by Billy Ocean).  This is the part that is, in and of itself, harmless. Especially the part with Barry White.  Where it goes horribly wrong, though, is in the other nine tracks.  Where Fabio gives love advice.  And "sings."

Here's a sample of Fabio's romantic (albeit heavily accented) banter:

"Sometimes, there is no place I'd rather be than on a tropical island." (At this point, some smooth jazz begins in the background, not unlike the beginning of a simulated sex scene in a softcore porn movie you'd see on late-night cable.  Not that I'd know about those sorts of things.)

Fabio continues:  "We seem to have it all to ourselves -- just me and my special lady.  There are no phones to intrude on us."  (For Fabio's sake, we hope there are no geese and no roller coasters there, either.) "Fish from the water, fruits from the trees, and wonderful silence.  The only sounds we hear are the sounds of nature, and of our hearts beating as one.  And the only music is the music we make together."

If I were a woman, I figure I'd be as queasy hearing that as I would be to say it.  But whatever works for hunky Italian men.

The crowning achievement of this disc, however, is the track "When Somebody Loves Somebody" - Fabio's attempt at singing.  There are just two problems with this, though:

1. Fabio can't sing.
2. Even if Fabio could sing, he got saddled with horrible lyrics such as these:

"All I want to tell her is that she made my life better;
Maybe I should send a simple love letter.
I hope I'm not addicted; her love was so convincing.
It's strange how I feel -- everything seems so unreal.
There's no looking back once you get a love attack."

I haven't listened to this disc in a while.  I'm listening to it as I write this, though, and I got an attack of my very own.

One of the things that you'll learn about The Shelf of Crap over time is that some of it is crappier than others.  In fact, some of them just aren't crappy.  This one, however, isn't one of them.

If I had to rate this one from 1 to 10 (1 being decent, and 10 being horrible), I'd give this CD a 7.  It would probably rate worse, but for the Barry White track near the end.

(If you want this one for your own maniacal purposes, be prepared to spend between $15 and $25 for it.)