Name Dropping

Hello World,     Happy July! Sunday is the first day of July already, as we move into the summer season in earnest, and cram it all full of the fun and fancy-free activities that we've been waiting all year for. That could include travel, educational opportunities, or just enjoying some unstructured time to relax and refresh. Unbelievably, summer will be over sooner than you know it, so the important thing to remember is that there is no wrong way to make the most of it. After all, we don't want to suddenly look up in September and wonder how it all got away from us. Sand castles, anyone?     On my way to work last week, I noticed a deli along the way with one of those changeable message boards in the window, listing their specials of the day, and other enticements to get me through their doors, and bring my wallet with me, while I'm at it. I can tell you that wasn't going to work, if their lunch special was any indication, which was a slice of pizza and what they described as "2 LITTER SODA" to go along with it. Frankly, I've got more than enough litter at home as it is, without going out and paying for more of it, thanks not.     Meanwhile at church, I'm sure that everyone will be gratified to hear that we are close personal friends with no less a retail behemoth than Home Depot, of all things, and that's not just a lot of nuts and bolts, believe me. We have a credit card issued by them, for routine supplies such as trash bags, paper towels, light bulbs, and the like, as well as discounted seasonal items like Easter lilies, poinsettias, Christmas trees, and holiday decorations. The account is made out to "Holy Trinity Lutheran," and we recently received an important mailing from their corporate headquarters, that started off with the most congenial greeting, "Hi Holy, here's a check for the credit balance refund on your revolving charge card account ....." Obviously, anyone could see that we're on a first-name basis with our friends at the hardware giant, and they just go ahead and call us simply Holy, without standing on ceremony or anything. (Although I'm not really sure if addressing it to us as "Mr./Ms. Lutheran" would have been much of any improvement, to be honest.) I suppose it's nice to know that they have developed such an intimate bond and familiarity with us that they feel no compulsion to use our whole name on any business correspondence. Hi Holy, indeed.     On the entertainment scene, we threw caution to the wind last Saturday, and joined the happy (hour) crowd at The City Winery to enjoy the musical stylings of Buster Poindexter in person on their tiny stage. (And I'm glad to report that I would have lost a bet with the position that you couldn't fit Buster and a 5-piece band on a stage that small.) Probably only people who were following punk rock in 1971 would have any recollection of the New York Dolls, but you can believe me (and our old friends the dinosaurs, for that matter) when I say that they were a Very Big Deal at the time, especially in the local area. Their lead singer was a lanky young man named David Johansen, whose multi-faceted baritone was way over-qualified for fronting a punk rock band, but that never slowed him down. (Alert viewers might have also spotted David in movies such as "Scrooged" or "Let It Ride," where his broad comedy would make you wonder if he hadn't missed his calling altogether.) In his spare time, just for fun, David created a new persona, the outdated and somewhat delusional failed lounge singer, Buster Poindexter, and took him out on the road to small venues and resorts, with an odd mix of oldies, novelty tunes, and lesser-known selections from the bottom-of-the-barrel pages of the Great American Songbook. (Probably just about everybody, not just alert listeners, has heard Buster's legendary "Hot! Hot! Hot!" as it played almost incessantly across the radio airwaves, from the time it was released in 1987,right up until today.) Buster was in fine form on Saturday, singing the obscure and the fondly remembered alike, and for everybody who can't get enough of "Zombie Jamboree," this show would have been right up your proverbial alley, I can tell you that. We dragged a couple of friends with us as well, and they were very tolerant throughout, considering that this type of music was not exactly their cup of tea. Luckily all of our connections worked very well, between the various trains and taxis - and even the cab rides weren't their usual harrowing and death-defying horror show, so that was even better. We also enjoyed a tasty meal of flat-bread pizza and their signature hand-cut French fries, one of the real advantages of a concert venue that also serves food, and thanks ever so. We had no trouble getting there and back, and even shuffled back into Grand Central just in time to catch the train home, which was a good thing, since we still didn't get home until almost midnight anyway. And let's face it, any later than that, and we would turn into our own version of Zombie Jamboree, and nobody wants to see that, I can promise you. Anyway, that's my story, and I'm sticking with it, or my name isn't - Hi Holy