Rock School Post Partum Syndrome - one month after partying with Eddie Vedder, Jon Anderson, Alice Cooper, Stewart Copeland, and Ann Wilson

Julie Slick on stage in Seattle

So it's approximately one month after the debut of Rock School; the documentary is leaving the Ritz Five in Philadelphia after tonight's screening and while it just opened last week in a few cities and will be debuting overseas next month, it will be on DVD sooner than later where I think it's going to be a hit...in fact, I read an interesting article how DVDs are much bigger business and bigger profit makers than movies in theaters so hopefully the advertising that Rock School did not get this time around will be rectified for the DVD and it will in fact get the wide audience it deserves.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't depressed these days. Rock School the movie was in the making over two years -- probably almost three years -- and I have true post partum syndrome now that it's over. I mean, come on, a month ago I was in Hollywood chatting with Jon Anderson after he played Heart of the Sunrise with Julie and Eric at the L.A. Knitting Factory and he put his arm around me and told me how great they are -- I even have a pic of it which I may post if I have a few drinks (meaning, I look absolutely horrific in this photo -- like a deer caught in the headlights with a shit eating grin on my face)...I stood in shock while my kids played with Stewart Copeland, Alice Cooper, Ann Wilson, and Eddie Vedder...and my god, I had freaking pizza with Eddie Vedder (also have a pic with his arm around me, too, again, too awful for words -- I think I need a chinectomy, i.e., for someone who hovers between a size ten and twelve, I have about seventeen chins in that photo but I know me, one night while knocking back a few, I won't be able to resist posting it)and anyway, it's been back to the real world bigtime for me and I don't like it.

Daughter Julie is happy, though. Her boyfriend Matt is back from his two week adventure in New Mexico though I have to admit, I enjoyed having her to myself. We had some awesome times together (ha ha - as usual, I clobbered her in Scrabble but she's a great player as well so we're thinking of becoming a team and challenging others to play us at Mugshots, a local coffeehouse which has Wednesday night Scrabble tournaments. I'm not bragging, I used to play tournament Scrabble and trust me, no one is going to beat the two of us. I just hope money is involved or at least free coffee!). We also had some incredible meals out, the best of which was dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, Lolita, at 13th and Sansom. It had to be the absolute best Mexican meal I've ever had in my life - I'd eaten there before with a fellow writer, Miriam Kotzin, and was blown away but the dinner I had with Julie was even better. They have a knocked out salad made with green apples, butter fish which has been chargrilled, fancy lettuce, and a dressing which tasted of vanilla beans but very subtle. I can't even describe how amazing it is. It's a BYOB and their big thing is they have these huge pitchers of fresh fruit juices so you bring a big bottle of tequila and enjoy. For dessert we had chocolate tres leches cake - oh my god, and I wonder why I have seventeen chins. Tres Leches cake is three milk cake - so this was chocolate cake soaked in heavy cream, milk, and sweetened condensed milk. They topped it off with homemade whipped cream and rich chocolate chunks. Lolita is now one of my favorite restaurants in Philadelphia.

Eric has so much stuff going on I can't even keep track of it. Gigs with both of his bands, gigs exclusive of his bands, two very interesting gigs at the end of the month I can't announce yet but of course will shortly as soon as they are confirmed; then he leaves for Germany with his father for Zappanale 16 where he'll perform along with the Rock School All-Stars as the festival's headliner doing a night of Pink Floyd and a night of Zappa. I am sooo jealous I'm not going to Germany again but I think it's important for Eric and his dad to go together though it's the first time EVER that Gary will get on a plane because he's terrified to fly. This is a big man who normally is afraid of nothing -- he goes along with the kids on the world's most heinous amusement rides -- when they were younger and he took them I couldn't even go and watch because I'm one of those people who throw up after a trip on the Merry-Go-Round and wouldn't even dream of anything as wild as a Ferris Wheel let alone those roller coasters of death. He is also a man who, when his jeep was stolen and by some weird twist of fate he pulled up next to it at a traffic light, chased the very very scarey criminal through West Philadelphia in his new jeep with no cell phone and no weapon other than his hands. I told Eric he has to take a pic of his dad's face at take-off; I'm imagining a version of "The Scream".

And in other news, we have Live 8 here on Saturday which is literally right down the street from my house. Now if this was the original line-up that I saw in 1985 here, I'd be so excited I wouldn't be able to control myself but the Philadelphia cast is so horrible I doubt I'll even watch it on TV. I mean, we have fucking Josh Groban, Dave Matthews, Bon Jovi, and P. Diddy. Somebody please kill me now. However, I did tell the kids that I'll have an open house here for anyone who wants to stop by for a burger - I'll probably barbecue all day and have all kinds of munchies so you don't have to give the City of Philadelphia $20.00 for a crappy hotdog and warm Pepsi.

Sigh...just thinking about Live Aid 1985 makes me depressed. I was three months pregnant with Julie and in the bathroom every five seconds either throwing up or peeing. First time in my young life back then I went to a rock concert and couldn't get high. Ha. It was the hottest day ever and the promoters got the brilliant idea about midway through the show to turn high powered hoses on everyone. Now I was thrilled, it felt wonderful, but all the people laying out lines of coke on mirrors all around me (hey, it was 1985!) almost had heart attacks and not from the drug. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of dope ruined that day. Oh the humanity! But oh my god, the show. There will never be a line-up in Philadelphia like that again:

Bernard Watson
Joan Baez
The Hooters
The Four Tops
Billy Ocean
Ozzy Osbourne
Run Dmc
Rick Springfield
Crosby Stills and Nash
Judas Priest
Bryan Adams
The Beach Boys
George Thorogood and the Destroyers/Bo Diddley/Albert Collins
Simply Minds
The Pretenders
Santanna and Pat Metheny
Ashford and Simpson and Teddy Pendergrass
Madonna
Tom Petty
Kenny Logins
The Cars
Neil Young
The Power Station (Robert Palmer's super group)
The Thomson Twins
Eric Clapton
Phil Collins
Plant, Page and Jones
Duran Duran
Patti La Belle
Hall & Oates/Eddie Kendricks/David Ruffin
Mick Jagger and Tina Turner
Bob Dylan/Keith Richard/Ron Wood

Bernard Watson is an interesting story. He showed up at Live Aid with a guitar - he was a local singer/songwriter and said "Put me on stage, please" and so the organizers said, what the fuck, and let him open the show.

That could never happen in today's corporate climate. Our line up is not only an MTV disgrace, how the hell could they exclude Rock School? Rock School has given this city more publicity and fame and our lovely Mayor, who by the way was voted the worst mayor in the entire United States by Time Magazine, doesn't even acknowledge their presence. I mean, if you take the suburban branches into consideration, we have maybe 500 kids from the area who are accomplished rock and rollers, had a documentary made about them which has played all over the country and is now scheduled for international release; made a soundtrack with some of the original Live Aid performers -- kids who play major venues all over the city and have had press everywhere from the New York Times to the London Observer...and they can't get an invitation to play in their own city? Oh well, who cares. Who the fuck wants to play with P-Diddy and Dave Matthews. These kids have played with Stewart Copeland and Eddie Vedder, etc.

But I did read the City is proud to announce that Pepsi has paid them $65,000 for the rights to be the exclusive drink supplier for the concert...
************
Hey, I just did get some good news. Got an email that a story of mine was accepted for the summer edition of Slow Trains Literary Journal and it will be published this Friday. Yay! I have started really writing again now that all the distractions are over; editing my novel on The Tour which no longer focuses on the tour at all; finishing up the sequel to Three Days in NYC; and simultaneously writing two short stories.

So life is good in that regard. Oh, one funny story about that. I know I'm always moaning that I want to quit my job so I can write full time but in reality, my kids and I have a high life style which we enjoy so unless Hollywood buys Three Days or my new novel gets a huge advance, I'm not quitting my day job anytime soon. Yesterday at work, my boss wasn't in and he called, asking me to look on his desk for a file. I go in his office and see a legal tablet with notes which are obviously for a conversation and something catches my eye. It says "I know you haven't been happy; I've heard you want a break; this is something I have to do; I know it's not fair but I'm taking Theresa on; the two of you can alternate; I know I talked to you about this before and we'll re-evaluate it again next year...etc."

Naturally, this had to do with me. I know there's a paralegal/legal secretary named Theresa who is very, very good and while I thought she was happy in her present job; I know she moves around a lot and her name comes up frequently when the firm with whom we share space is looking for help. So my stomach plummetted, because I have a lot of expenses coming up; I want to redo my upstairs entirely; I have plans to buy french doors for my living room; I have a two week vacation at the beach planned in September; Julie's college tuition which always includes extras for me to pay....oh my god, I went into shock. So I sat at my desk paralyzed for an hour, thinking about my options. Working part-time would be amazing; it would allow me to write and have a consistently clean house. But it would also mean my salary would be cut in half at the worst possible time. Could I afford it? Then I started thinking about how difficult the work is now and if I were making half of my salary, would I still want to deal with it or would I rather just go temp somewhere and make the same money without any stress? Plus, and this is the worst aspect, I've worked at my job for decades and my computer contains a lot of highly personal stuff (well, a lot of my short stories and things I work on during my lunch hour and before work, etc.) and my desk is a mess, also stuffed with my private belongings. It would literally take me two months to clear my hard drive and clean up my "mess". The idea of sharing my workspace with another woman sent my blood running cold.

Anyway, after almost giving myself a stroke, my boss strolls in and I decide to immediately confront him with this so that he couldn't hit me with it first. I notice he covered up the legal tablet with files as soon as he walked in and then got on the phone. I sat there and sweated for another hour until he was free. I walk in his office and blurt out "Is there something you want to tell me?"

He stares at me like I'm crazy.

"Look, Craig, I never snoop on your desk but you sent me in here and I saw the notes on the tablet."

"What tablet, Robin? What are you talking about?"

"The one on your desk under all of those files!"

He digs it out and starts laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"This is about hockey. Theresa is my assistant hockey coach. I am putting her in to share duties with another one of the moms because she has more time and energy."

Oh my god. I was so mortified and worse, I also let him see my fear about being downsized. I let him see it BIG TIME.

I even made him feel my hands, which were like giant frozen ice blocks, and trust me, neither Craig nor I are touchy feely and for me to do that, I was out of my head with paranoia.

Anyway, to his credit, he laughed and ripped the paper up in shreds, saying he talked to the other mom who coaches about Theresa last night; she was upset, and that he was tearing it up because this whole thing already caused him enough angst with her (Craig is really a nice guy; it's not his fault the legal business is so crappy these days) and that he didn't need me upset, too.

So that was yesterday.

But hey, I have a story about to be published in Slow Trains! Hahahahaha - sorry to repeat it again, but Slow Trains Literary Journal is a top tier lit publication and I'm feeling a lot less sorry for myself all of a sudden.

From the lips of keyboardist Chris Opperman: Eric Slick - 19 year old drum phenom!

Sorry, I know I just posted this pic from Guitarmageddon but I love it and I'm still waiting for the Guitarmageddon info so no sense letting the photo go to waste...

Anyway, as I previously broadcasted, my son Eric, who is 18, not 19 (arghh...please don't make him grow up any faster, Chris), has a gig in NYC at the Lion's Den on July 9 with members of Project Object and Chris Opperman, Steve Vai's keyboardist.

Here is what we received from Chris' mailing list today, and how cool is this!

Sent: Mon, 27 Jun 2005 3:05:58 AM Eastern Daylight Time
Subject: [Chris Opperman] Oppy Takes Manhattan Saturday, July 9th
[Chris Opperman Mailing List - Monday, June 27th, 2005]
Episode #41: Oppy Takes Manhattan
Order now at http://www.oppymusic.com/.
Mailing list entires archived at http://www.united-mutations.com/.

* Oppy @ The Lion's Den in NYC, Saturday, July 9th @ 9:30 PM
* "Beyond the Foggy Highway" Preview on MySpace
* Belgian Review of "Concepts of Non-linear Time"

* Oppy @ The Lion's Den in NYC, Saturday, July 9th @ 9:30 PM

Opperman will be making his debut New York City performance in front of over 100 of his biggest fans on July 9th with the debut of the East Coast version of his band SPECIAL OPPS featuring several members of legendary Frank Zappa cover band Project/Object as well as a graduate from Paul Green's School of Rock (http://www.schoolofrock.com/). They will be performing a long set consisting of fan favorites from all of Opperman's albums including the upcoming SPECIAL OPPS studio album as well as selected compositions by two of Opperman's mentors, Steve Vai and Mike Keneally.

The band will feature Chris Opperman on piano, Andre' Cholmondeley on electric guitar, Jeff Paitchell (from Opperman's hometown of Clifton, NJ) on guitar, Jordan "J-Ro" Shapiro on keyboards, Dave Johnsen on bass guitar, and 19 year-old phenom Eric Slick on drums.

"I realize that some of you have been waiting 7 years for this concert and that some of you are traveling long distances and planning your vacations around this event. I just want you to know that the band and myself are just as excited about this concert and this music as you are and that we are going to have one hell of a music party. It is an honor and a privilege to finally be able to bring this music home and we will all be playing like we've never played before. Get ready to have a great time!"

To order your tickets, go to http://www.cegmusic.musictoday.com/LionsDen/calendar.aspx. The show is 18+ and tickets are $10 each.

* "Beyond the Foggy Highway" Preview on MySpace

Last week, mastering engineer Scott Chatfield burned the final master for Opperman's fourth album, "Beyond the Foggy Highway." Also, local LA artist T.J. Moore completed two paintings for the artwork. Once the graphic design phase is completed and the mechanical licenses are signed, the album will be sent to the manufacturing plant and will be showing up in your mailboxes! Currently, there is an exclusive preview up on MySpace.com at www.myspace.com/chrisopperman which features 4 of the compositions on the album. At 65 minutes, it clocks in as Opperman's longest effort to date and includes 17 songs which feature all of his Los Angeles ensembles from 2002-2004.

The album can be pre-ordered from http://www.oppymusic.com/. All pre-orders will be individually signed and numbered and will include a unique one-of-a-kind sketch on the CD face by Chris Opperman.

* Belgian Review of "Concepts of Non-linear Time"

by Peter Van Laarhoven of Vosselaar, Belgium for United Mutations

"Concepts of Non-linear Time" is Chris Opperman's latest album. Or as the liner notes say: "This album is dedicated to everyone who has player or performed my music in the past, present and future."

This is one great album. It's contemporary, modern music, combining very fine compositions with superb playing. If you are familiar with Opperman's previous albums, you will probably be glad to hear that the grand piano still is the main instrument on this album. Chris' playing is astonishing. Just listen to "The Saddle Ranch" where he (and Mike Keneally) will take you for a rodeo ride, using various rhythmic and melodic elements. Beautiful.

My favourite tracks are "The Walls are Coming Down" and "Dora's Aura," both featuring excellent vibraphone work by Ben Adams. Mini-Moog fans on the other hand (and who isn't one) will be glad to hear that Marc Ziegenhagen is also present. He does some rather psychedlic things on "Reviving Aeris." Highly recommended.

Hey!

Rock School has climbed in the box office ratings from #53 last week to #35 this week! They haven't updated the box office numbers yet as far as profits but watch this space!

I knew this would happen. They just need to give it a chance and let the word of mouth travel. I know I intend to see it again this weekend - but then again, I can never get enough of watching Julie and Eric on the big screen.

And I'm waiting on the Guitarmageddon info promised yesterday - should have it later today.

Guitarmageddon 2005

The Rock School Hall of Famers/All-Stars at 2005 Guitarmageddon in Hollywood last Saturday.

...more to follow

Real quick - great news

Yay! Rock School has been extended at least another week (through June 30) at the Ritz Five!

Proud mother moment - Eric Slick rules!

The Rock School All-Stars at CBGB's following the NYC premiere of the movie
(and of course that's my son, Eric, in the black suit and sunglasses)


Pump up the volume: A crass course in rock
Sunday, June 19, 2005
By JOYCE J. PERSICO
Staff Writer

Before Paul Green even enters the room, you can hear him screaming from the floor above. Loudly. As loudly as any rock fan in any rock arena attending any rock concert ever screamed.

On the walls of Paul Green's School of Rock Music in Philadelphia there are lots of photos of him screaming. There are posters and reminders and mementos as well. But mostly there are photos of Green screaming.

The first time Green saw Don Argott's modest documentary "Rock School," he hated it because he thought he came off looking like a jerk. "Jerk" is not the word Green uses. He uses an expletive, just as he does in the film that illustrates his unorthodox method for teaching children ages 9 to 17 how to become rock stars.

"I tell my students, `Rock 'n' roll is sex, drugs and booze, and then there's the down side,' " Green jokes, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

He is 32, his conversation a mixture of arrogance and brutal honesty. He gives the impression he doesn't like being sized up, that despite his bravura, he really does give a damn. And that he is ambitious.

He'a whirling dervish in a three-story Philadelphia building only months from being razed to make room for the city's new convention center. There's already been one movie inspired by him - the well-received Jack Black feature "School of Rock," a movie Green denounces in a hail of obscenities.

"We're a formal music school," Green insists. "We have 180 kids, 40 percent of them female. Some of our teachers are former students."

As Green explains in "Rock School," he doesn't coddle students. Instead he tells them off, urges them to leave if they don't like the pressure and is honest enough to admit that he worries some might learn to be better guitarists than he is.

"Talent is a funny word," Green says. "Let 'em have fun."

The curriculum includes Led Zeppelin, Frank Zappa and you name it - complete with encouragement to shake a long head of hair, if that's what it takes. Student shows take the place of written exams.

Forty-five minute private lessons on a student's instrument of choice and three-hour weekly rehearsals help the aspiring musicians prepare for the performances, which take place at places such as Philadelphia's Trocadero rock club.

Is CJ Tywoniak, the 15-year-old sitting next to Green on a worn couch, a better guitarist than he is?

"No," Green answers, quickly, as CJ nods in silent agreement.

Is CJ, so prominently featured in "Rock School" and so obviously talented, Green's best student?

"No," Green replies, just as quickly and, once again, the quiet, long-haired teen nods modestly in agreement.

That title falls to Eric Slick, a drummer, who later saunters into Green's aerie on Race Street near 13th Street. He makes a series of cell-phone calls as Green is promoting the movie on his school.

-- -- --

When CJ told his mom, Monique Lampson, that he wanted to attend Green's rock school, an hour's drive from their Downingtown, Pa., home three years ago, "we did not just drop him off here," she explains.

"I went with him. It took a solid year before I felt comfortable with it," says Lampson. "He clearly found his talent - and he's not about drugs, but he is interested in the girls."

What sold Lampson on Green's school was how her son reacted after he met Green.

"My son said something really poignant," Lampson recalls. "He said, `It scares me to death to do this and that's why I have to do this.' "

Anyone can enroll in the school. Students don't have to know how to play an instrument or read music, but they have to be willing to learn, because if there's one thing Green can't stand it's "waste of potential."

As Green asserts in "Rock School," "I can teach anything."

Green is vague about how much it costs to attend one of his schools, which are scattered around the country, but mentions there are scholarships.

With area schools already in operation in Cherry Hill and Huntingdon Valley, Pa., Green says he's thinking of opening another in Trenton or Princeton.

Green was studying philosophy at the University of Pennsylvania and planning a career in law when his love of music intruded. He opened his Philadelphia school in 1998 and suggests that his recent move to New York, where he has another branch, is proof of how good business is.

"I spend two days a week here and two days there," he explains as he sits in a worn pair of shorts and a black T-shirt. Formality isn't something Green seems to practice and he's as antsy as a child.

Capturing Green and his school on film couldn't have been easy for Argott, considering the restlessness of the teacher's nature and the narrow corridors of the facility.

"It's as fair a representation of his character as you can do in 90 minutes," director Argott says of "Rock School," which is opening slowly across the country.

A self-proclaimed "workaholic" who sometimes works from 4 a.m. to 8 p.m., Green has a simple answer for anyone who asks what it is about rock music that lures men in particular.

"Why does the male peacock have bigger feathers?" he asks.


*************
As stated, the photo at the top of this post is from an article which appeared about the kids performing at CBGBs following the NYC Rock School premiere and it appeared in the June 6, 2005 edition of Variety. I've been trying to access it by applying for a temporary free subscription, etc. but it's not working. If anyone has it, please send it to me because it looks like it might be a good review of the kids' performance.

The New Yorker Loves Rock School and Oh, Oh, it's ken*again!

Issue of 2005-06-27
Posted 2005-06-20
ROCK SCHOOL
A new documentary by the first-time filmmaker Don Argott, about the Paul Green School of Rock Music, in Philadelphia. Green takes a position of zero condescension toward his students, ages nine to seventeen—demanding a lot, loudly and profanely voicing his displeasure when they fall short. He can be a self-serving, if self-aware, pain in the ass, but there’s some topnotch comedy material in his rants. The film follows the students as they prepare for a Frank Zappa festival in Germany, tackling some of the most difficult and sophisticated music in the rock canon. Beyond the chords and the rhythms, Green’s method is about imbuing the kids with a confident look-at-me attitude. The finale at the Zappa festival is not only a musical triumph but also tremendously moving.—Ken Marks (Lincoln Square and Village Theatre VII.)
*****************


So I see that review was written by "Ken" Marks, and therefore, this must be Happy Ken day in my life because in other news, I have a new short story published today in the summer issue of ken*again

(and yeah, yeah, I don't know what those two fingers are hiding, either, since it's common knowledge Ken has no genitalia. I figured this out when I was a kid, undressed him, and taped him to a naked Barbie in hopes she'd get pregnant and provide me with a Midge or Skipper doll but, you know, that, too, ended up being just another childhood fantasy shot to hell...)

Anyway, Happy Ken Day to all! And as you can see, Ken and Barbie are apparently eternal optimists...

Guitarmageddon 2005 and the death of an old friend

So Julie and Eric were in L.A. all weekend as the opening act for Guitarmageddon, a yearly contest sponsored by Guitar Center, which is basically the national championship for young guitarists who win at the local branches at the store, etc. It was held at the Wiltern, pictured above, a magnficent, historic building in Hollywood.

They had a blast but are totally exhausted - it was an eight hour flight each way because they had to change planes in places like Pittsburgh, PA and Charlotte, NC and on the way home...gulp...the fucking airline lost their guitars and Julie's Rickenbacker bass. Am I having heart failure? You betcha. Readers of this blog might remember that bass as the one I bought for her in NY for Christmas this year, right after which I had the great panic attack of 2004 in NY's Chinatown while awaiting a non-existent bus to get home. Also missing are C.J. Tywoniak's custom guitar and Teddi Tarnoff's one of a kind Telecaster. We are under the impression from the airline that these axes might very well be on their way to Germany right now because apparently that's where the plane was headed after the kids had their layover in Charlotte.

This is amazing to me. In these times of so-called stringent security, where everything has to be labelled and checked ninety times; how the fuck did they lose three giant guitars in cases. I'm trying not to freak out because Julie is still calm and thinks this will have a happy ending; not me; I'm busy looking for the receipt and wondering who is going to ultimately pay for this - the airline, my insurance company, or what. I am not happy. And this is right on the heels of my recent bout with airport security where I was body searched and had the contents of my suitcase dumped...I haven't written about that too much in this blog because it's currently a short story in the works...let's just say it includes something pretty funny/embarrassing that the attendants pulled out of my suitcase in front of 10 hysterically laughing kids. And airport security who were kind enough to point out where on my ticket it said I was flagged for a total search...I guess so I can alert my fellow "terrorists"? Forgive me if I am repeating myself here...I'm in no mood to go back and check all of my prior posts.

Anyway, luckily C.J.'s mom was with them on the plane and has all the airline contact info and supposedly once they locate the guitars (and bass) they will ship them to her house. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I have to admit - for once I didn't live on line while they were away this weekend; I actually cleaned my house. Yep, it was time for that every five year event, and I found things I thought I lost, found things I wish I'd lost, found things I didn't know I ever had, etc. So at least I was productive. I wasn't in writing mode -- I had a queasy feeling about their trip this time, not knowing of course about the lost instruments. I read there were five earthquakes on the west coast this week and I was a little uneasy that they were there and I was unable to concentrate. So I figured physical activity would take my mind off things.

It didn't, but at least I have a temporarily clean house. I say temporarily, because I know me, I know my kids. Within two days, we'll be back to square one. I'll be late for work looking for a lost shoe; a CD out of its case on the floor will crack under someone's sneaker, an appointment will be missed. I'm willing to bet on it.

In other news, I wasn't going to write about this but I find my fingers flying on the keyboard so I'm gonna do it. I'm really sad today because an old acquaintance suddenly passed away. As anyone who knows me is aware, I worked for Larry -- a wonderful, incredible attorney for over two decades who was not just my boss -- I consider him one of my best friends and he is definitely the only real mentor I've ever had. Probably the only person I've ever respected 100 per cent...I mean, I never question one of his decisions and even if I don't always immediately agree with advice he gives me, I always end up coming around because he's so fucking wise. He broke my heart by retiring three years ago but he was approaching seventy and it was time, even though I was in complete denial that it would ever really happen. Anyway, his very best friend was a doctor named Mike Avallone with whom our office also did business and he'd call Larry every day and Mike and I would joke around a lot before I'd put the call through...of course once Larry retired, I lost all of his friends, too. I opened up the newspaper this morning and saw Mike's obituary and just about lost it. I know this is all part of getting older and I've said it before, the hardest part about it is that change occurs so fucking rapidly and there's not a thing we can do to stop it but it sure doesn't make it any easier to handle. I emailed Larry's daughter because I'm still too emotional to call him...afraid if I do it now from the office (I'm on my lunch hour) I'll break into tears but of course I'm afraid I'll cry even worse from home. Larry's daughter told me Mike had diabetes and a pacemaker in his heart but still snuck donuts (he was a jovial, dangerously rotund fellow) and was on Cumadin for his condition. Even though he'd just seen a cardiologist and was told he was doing well, he took a bad fall on Tuesday and the Cumadin caused terrible bleeding in his brain which basically killed him but he was on life support for a few days until the EKG confirmed no activity in his brain and that was that.

So the end of another era for me. I feel kind of paralyzed by the news and I thought maybe writing about it here would make me feel better and more prepared to call Larry but I find myself crying at the moment so...

Laterxoxoxo

Queer Eye meets Rock School; also news on a Monkee and a Monkeybicyle

Yes, it's true. A small group of Rock School All-Stars and Hall of Famers, namely, my son Eric and daughter Julie, Teddi Tarnoff, Madison Flego, Stevie Roberts, and C.J. Tywoniak were in New York City last night to play a gig for Queer Eye for the Straight Guy which will be seen later this year on the Bravo Network. The show's makeover contestant was someone from Donald Trump's Apprentice.

Anyway, the kids had an absolute blast; a representative from Gibson Guitars was there and laid all kinds of cool equipment on them including a silver Les Paul; they also got incredible goody bags which contained everything from cookbooks to CDs to poetry books to exotic lavender laundry detergent in a wine bottle; the fellows from Queer Eye were super nice and friendly to Julie, Eric and company and heaped loads of praise on them for their performance (Black Magic Woman, You Really Got Me, and Barracuda); and here's the best part that totally cracked me up: At the end of the evening, the producer for Queer Eye approached Eric with her business card -- apparently she wants him to be the next makeover candidate for the show. Ha! Like Eric would let anyone touch his shoulder length hair or fuck with his nifty thrift store seventies' wardrobe. Not to mention that my son is far too hip for a T.V. show -- he's more excited about playing with Chris Opperman (Steve Vai's keyboardist) and Andre from Project Object at the Lion's Den in NYC on July 9 and of course I'll be talking about that a lot more as the gig draws closer.

In attendance at the star-studded show was none other than --


No, no, not Sir Paul, but Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees! Ha!

And while I'm on the subject of Monkeys, I have a one sentence story, which, if you know me, is damn near impossible so it's more like a one sentence novella, in this week's edition of Monkeybicycle.
I have lusted after being in Monkeybicyle for two years so I am now vindicated and very happy - it's one of my favorite 'zines. Now. To crack into Eyeshot. Hahahaha - no chance of that; Lee (the editor) hates my writing and once threatened to beat me up and I'm not sure he was kidding. Man, they have a really jerked off way of letting you know your work is rejected. Instead of a standard form letter or the contemptible but becoming more and more common practice of ignoring submissions they don't like altogether (meaning, editors from other magazines who shall remain nameless) Lee sends you an email with a link with your story in the subject line. So, if you are like me and tend to get overly optimistic, you think you're going to click on the link and see your story posted in Eyeshot. Wrong. The link takes you to an obnoxious rejection letter. So I'll never submit to him again, and I hope some day I have a best seller and he asks me for something so I can say Screw you, fuckwit. (as if - meaning, I am probably the biggest wimp in the universe. But in theory...)

Anyway, that's the news for now. Happy Friday!

Rock School at the Troc - Part II

Hahahahaha - I'll let this blog entry speak for itself:



Nightvision (Philadelphia Weekly - June 15-21 edition)

Matt Rothstein, 18, Madi Diaz, 19, and Eric Slick, 18

by Emily Brochin

What do you do for a living?

MR: "I work at the School of Rock in Downingtown. I'm basically the bitch there."
MD: "I'm a student at the Berklee College of Music in Boston."
ES: "I'm a drum teacher at the Paul Green School of Rock Music and a drummer for a band, Flamingo."

Describe what you're wearing.

MR: "I'm wearing my Urban Outfitters shirt-which I'm not proud of. And my Gap jeans. And bright green Nikes."
MD: "Jeans. Underwear. A black shirt and a scarf that I got from Rome. And feather earrings."
ES: "I'm wearing my dad's 1973 velvet blazer from a wedding or something, and new white shoes from somewhere on Second and Market. And $6 Walgreens sunglasses."

What are you up to tonight?

MR: "I'm going to be playing 'The Lemon Song' by Led Zeppelin."
MD: "I'm at the Troc watching my brother play Slayer."
ES: "Playing some Led Zeppelin songs. And a bad Queen song."
*****************
In case anyone doesn't know this already, Matt Rothstein, featured above with my son, is my daughter Julie's boyfriend and also in the movie -- he has much shorter hair there (well, so does Eric) and is the one who has the line "Paul says I suck -- I practice and practice and he still says I suck". Or something like that.

Interestingly enough, Emily, who wrote the above article and was kind enough to send me the link with the photo, also reviewed Rock School the movie in last week's edition of Philly Weekly and I'm pasting it below:

Kids Rock

There's no stopping the Paul Green juggernaut.

by Emily Brochin

Paul Green is on the brink. The documentary about his school of rock music, Rock School, is garnering critical acclaim. He's opened eight other branches in addition to his original one in Philadelphia. He even has his own T-shirts.

But today Green doesn't want to talk about the movie. Or the kids. He wants to talk about Werner Herzog, whom he worships.

"I used to have a class in the basement called Philosophy for Ungrateful Teenagers," he says on the phone from a radio studio where he's just done an interview. "We used to have movie night where I'd show more accessible movies-things I thought they should see. I tried to show them Fitzcarraldo. They didn't go for it. But they liked Reservoir Dogs a lot."

Fitzcarraldo is a fitting metaphor for Green's mission. In the film the protagonist tries to build an opera house deep in the Brazilian jungle by carrying a riverboat over a mountain.

Green has charged himself with an equally daunting task: to corral hundreds of kids and teach them the lost art of rock 'n' roll. Ultimately, Fitzcarraldo managed to build his opera. And Green managed to build his rock school.

The Paul Green School of Rock Music began in 1998 when its foun-der started orchestrating weekly jam sessions among his private music students.

After seven years Green has his kids' ensemble performances down to a science. Teachers pick a theme centered around a performer or genre (for example, Queen teaches harmony, and punk rock teaches kids stage presence) and assign kids pieces according to their abilities. For the most part, the musicians are pretty advanced-as was obvious at the school's scholarship fundraiser at the Trocadero last Friday.

The Troc was packed with kids, parents and various musical instruments, and it exuded a potent mixture of adrenaline and sexual tension. Everyone was dressed up-some sporting ties, others carefully Aqua-netted mohawks and lots of eye makeup.

The upstairs was commandeered by the parents. (It's not only where the bar is, but where you can get the best shots with a camcorder.)

When a group of tow-headed kids took the stage and began to play "You Shook Me All Night Long," it seemed a little ludicrous at first. But then the singer opened his mouth, and a miniature version of Brian Johnson emerged. And the lead guitarist ripped off his shirt and started spinning on the floor while shredding.

The crowd went wild.

"I just hope the kids really want great things for themselves," Green says. "I tell them to look at their parents and how many of them are miserable in their jobs. And I hope they lay the groundwork and find what they want to do and then work hard and don't give up and all that corny stuff."

Green's statement rings true. How many of the dads here-in loosened ties, surrounded by other parents getting tanked-would gladly trade places with their kids?

Critics charge that Green's pedagogy in Rock School is, well, unusual. If a kid isn't giving it his all, Green will drag it out of him-whether by shame, force or a combination of the two.

"What's worse: me yelling at them, or them getting up onstage and not knowing their songs?" Green says.

It's certainly not the kind of education President Bush advocates in No Child Left Behind, but it's yielded real results. The kids are engaged and passionate. They've shared stages with some of the biggest names in music. Graduates have gone on to attend music conservatories, or remained at the school to teach.

And somewhere between the swearing, the throwing things, the hugs and the actual teaching, Green provides an education that'll forever affect his students' lives.

Watching the students onstage, it's clear Paul Green has built a new army-with guitars, not guns-to defend the future of America.