Arts & Culture
Sick Beatniks Confront Racist Bubbes and Coke Sniffing Republicans
Come children, let me dandle you on my knee as I tell you savage tales of pot, porn, punk rock, and professional wrestling. Your ears may burn and your hearts will beat with the violence of untamed jungle drums, but I … Read More
Come children, let me dandle you on my knee as I tell you savage tales of pot, porn, punk rock, and professional wrestling. Your ears may burn and your hearts will beat with the violence of untamed jungle drums, but I promise to never lie to you.
After three weeks of intense rehearsals in our Sound and Fury Laboratory, my collection of musical terrorists is finally ready for prime time, and it is all gonna go down tonight. In a circus tent.
For those of you who have been living in a cave, tonight will be what has become known as simply The Big Show — my band, the Rocket Train Delta Science Arkestra, featuring Jon Spencer, will be backing me up as I twirl druggy adventures and filthy confessions from my book I Have Fun Everywhere I Go. Joining me will be superstars Jonathan Ames, Amanda Stern, and Jewcy.com’s very own Rachel Shukert, whose tales of heavy petting and teenage hijinks are going to knock you on your ass.
It’s a strange business trying to put on a show of groovy tunes and far-out storytelling. Let’s face it — literary events usually have all the dramatic impact of a stool-softening enema. We are changing that. Tonight, the revolution begins. We are the New Bohmemians, born in the wake of eight years of culture death and riding a wave of hope. This is your chance to be on the right side of history. Come on down — if you think you can handle it. There will be no punches pulled, no holds barred. It will truly be a Night of Champions. (Scroll down to see our super suave flyer and allthe 411.. for more info, check out www.rockettrain.com). See you all there!
* * *
And now let’s pick up the story of my poor, misguided mother.
In the last week I have received dozens of angry emails—maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised that calling her a “racist” and a “moron” was not going to make me any new friends?
Last week I called the Ancient One and told her I was making her my pet project.
"If you talk politics with me, I will hang up the phone," she told me. She has never been lauded for her open mind.
I made my usual pitch — the economy (she watches the stockmarket like a lion watching her cubs), the future reproductive rights of her granddaughter, and what I always think is going to be a clincher, "Why would you vote for someone who doesn’t think that all Americans should have the same rights?"
"You would still love me if I were gay, right?"
"Michael, I am going to hang up the phone."
"Alright, just tell me this. Would you rather I dated a Jewish man, or a black woman?"
She hates it when I bust her like that. It is a low blow, I admit it, but there is only one acceptable answer and we both know it. ("As long as you are happy.")
Finally, though, she was engaged. For a moment.
"I am voting for McCain," she told me flatly. See? I told you she was a moron. "But it won’t matter, because I am voting in Florida."
"Huh? It will matter more there, don’t you think?"
"It will be a —," and here she used a Yiddish word I didn’t know, which frustrates me, because tossing Yiddish around and wading in my Jew roots is my shtick. "It means that it is a waste."
"Everyone I know in Florida is voting for Obama."
And there you have it America, from a soldier with her boots on the ground. Forget all the polls. When a migrating Jew like my mother brings in fresh intelligence from the canasta playing hordes, you know you are getting the fresh dope.
This post is continued from: BOOK CLUB: Pot, Porn, Palin, and Racist Jewish Mothers