Quest for Questions

A while back, I invited readers to be interviewed by myself. More recently, I sent out a number of questionnaires to those of you who volunteered and have, as of right now, received two back. And that's great. (NOTE: But please, fill it out and send it back. Also, don't forget to include a photo or something with your face on it to go with your answers. Extra credit for hilarious/excellent images.)

Now, I've always heard that you should never ask people to do anything you wouldn't not do yourself. Which is why I butcher my own animals, make my own glue and grow my own Pop Tarts. So, what follows are my answers to my questionnaire.


Name
Dylan Todd

Hometown
Las Vegas, NV, but now I hang my hat in Cleveland, OH. That means I live in Cleveland.

Occupation
I design graphics. Hopefully they are awesome graphics.

Favorite Type Of Donut
The chocolate cake-y glazed ones.

Would you rather be mauled by a bear, stung to death by bees or eaten by a shark? Why?
The shark. It'd be the quickest, I think, though being mauled by a bear is a heckuva way to go.

If your life were a song, what song would it be?
Talking Heads' "Naive Melody." Either that or DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince's "Parents Just Don't Understand."

If you could only watch one film for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Probably Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. The 70's version. With Gene Wilder. Not the Johnny Depp-as-Michael Jackson Tim Burton one.

If you had your way, where would you live out the rest of your days and how?
I'm not sure I've found the perfect place just yet, but I will tell you this: it will be warm, big-ish, have cool shops and a lot of places to hear live music and eat delicious food. So far, that looks like Austin, TX, but we shall see. Any tips on this one?

What would your like your tombstone read? (Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you)
"BRB"

The Three Stooges or the Marx Brothers?
Marx Brothers, by a country mile.

What three TV shows can you not miss?
30 Rock, Lost and, uh, The FringeOffice.

If you could erase one social problem with the flick of yr wrist, what would it be and why?
Child abuse. That one reeeeally bums me out. If there's a news story on it, I have to leave the room or risk being depressed for days. Then I'd flick away poverty, ignorance, unkindness and finally, people complaining in bank and post office lines.

Who was your earliest remembered crush?
Punky Brewster.

What five things do you hope people know or think about you?
* Despite my strong opinions on anything (and everything) from politics to home furnishings, we can still agree to disagree. I just like debating.
* I love my family. Like, the most.
* Half of what I say is meaningless.
* That the time I was escorted out of that Chuck E. Cheese's was a total misunderstanding and I apologize for punching Chuck E. in the face and calling the Rock-A-Fire Explosion a "bunch of animatronic fascists." But seriously, if you don't want adults in the ball pit, you should probably post a sign or something.
* I really just want everybody to have a good time. Be excellent to each other. "Love thy neighbor." All that stuff.

What three things are you terrified that people know or think about you?
* That I'm a totally rude, obnoxious, stupid, blowhard bore that they barely tolerate.
* That I sort of maybe liked "Mmmbop" more than a little bit.
* That I am not really all that sorry about the whole Chuck E. Cheese fiasco. Or, as it is known in our household, "Chuck E. Gate."

The Stones or the Who?
Y'know, up until a few years ago, I'd have said the Who, easily, but now, as I've gotten a little older and my musical palette has expanded a little, it'd be a tough battle. In the end, the Who produced Quadrophenia and Who's Next, so they win.

If you could have any super power (flight, x-ray vision, the ability to talk to undersea creatures, etc.), what would it be and why?
The power to summon huge flocks (are they called flocks? According to WikiAnswers, they're called either a swarm or a rabble. Who knew? The Internets, that's who!) of butterflies and then to command said group of butterflies to do my bidding. Hopefully I would use this great power in the service of the greater good, but I make no promises.

What is the deal with airline food?
I have no idea. I have never eaten an airline meal. Maybe this is why I don't think Jerry Seinfeld's stand-up is all that funny. Maybe if I had eaten an airline meal, I'd find his insights into such matters piercing rather than pedestrian. His show though, his show is gold.

What is your greatest unrealized ambition?
I want to write a novel and record an album of obscure covers called Best. Mixtape. Ever. I want to cold-cock a grizzly bear, throat-punch a shark and karate chop a swarm of bees in half. I want to see a Caravaggio up close and personal, stroll the Parthenon at sunset and enjoy a homegrown Pop Tart on the red hills of Mars. I want to Rock. Also, I wouldn't mind a little Roll.

Most embarassing moment ever. Go!
We were heading to see Bod Dylan at the House Of Blues in Mandalay Bay and who should be walking the opposite way as us with some random blonde? It was Luke Wilson! So I say to him, "Hey! You're Luke Wilson!" Which is just a stupid thing to say. I mean, *he* knows he's Luke Wilson, right? Duh. Why I felt like I needed to point this out to him, I have no idea.

He sort of wrinkled up his brow, obviously confused why anyone would say that to him, gave me a half-hearted nod and kept walking. Candace couldn't stop making fun of me.

And you know what, I deserved it.

For Those About To Rock...

So the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame had their induction ceremony last night. Wow, these lists just get more and more depressing every year, don't they? There's always at least one person (usually not more) who - yeah, they deserve it, let them in - two or three who make it in because they're still hanging around and a couple of people who you would probably think deserve it, if you only knew who the heck they are.

Let's look at this year's list:

Don't Deserve It. Like, At All:

* Madonna - Um, guys, it's the "Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame," not the "Bland Eighties Pop Hall OF Fame." Seriously, let's look at the work and not the "brand" here, because her music is pretty dang bad. Seriously, if she hadn't been such an attention-grabbing hoochie in the 80's, she's be sitting alongside Cindy Lauper, Tiffany and Debbie (Sorry, "Deborah") Gibson as VH1 I Love the 80's punchlines.

Although I will admit, that song "Ray Of Light" is pretty dang catchy. Um, anyway...

* John #$%^&*!@ Mellencamp - This one pisses me off the most, mainly because I have a burning fire of purest hatred a'burnin' deep within my heart of hearts for Little Johnny #$%^&*!@ Cougar. Dude is a big fat phony. Also, his music sucks a llama's butt. Just total watered-down Springsteen faux-Americana, Ford-truck-selling pap. My brain gags from just thinking about it.

Yuck.

Got In Even Though They Are Not Really Necessary To Rock:

* The Dave Clark Five - I always get them confused with Paul Revere & the Raiders or like Gerry & the Pacemakers or any one of those bland Beatles rip-offs. The DC5 were responsible for "Glad All Over", "Bits and Pieces" and "Catch Us If You Can" and were a moderately successful British Invasion Band. (Thanks, Wikipedia!) I mean, they were a solid pop group, but come on. Really? They got in because, basically, they just copied their neighbor's test.

* The Ventures - The band that launched a million crappy surf rock garage bands. The Ventures are cool, I will admit, but incidental to the bigger picture of Rock as a genre. You don't hear a lot of people saying "'Walk, Don't Run' really spoke to me, man. It changed my life." It's cool that they recognized them and all, but yeah, I don't know. I'd rather Dick Dale had made it there first.

[ sigh ] I am a total rock snob, aren't I? Oh well. I yam what I yam.

Now let's look at People Who Deserve It, But You Have No Clue Who They Are:

* Little Walter (pronounced: "Token Blues Guy") - According to the always reliable Wikipedia: "Little Walter ... was a blues singer, harmonica player, and guitarist. Also, he had an excellent nickname." Okay, that last part was me.

* Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff - Again with the Wiki: Gamble & Huff (pronounced: "Token Soul Guys") produced some minor soul records by the O-Jays, The Jacksons and Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, so, yeah, sure let them in. Whatever. If you're letting Johnny Cougar in, who cares any more?

Finally, The One Who Deserves To Be There:

* Leonard Cohen - Why Lynrd Skynrd managed to make it into the Hallowed Halls Of Rock Fame before Leonard Cohen is one of the great injustices of the universe. Cohen has deserved this ever since he put out Songs Of Leonard Cohen and Songs From A Room, his first two albums, chock full of haunting melodies and Biblical dread. He could have pulled a Buddy holly after that and been legendary, but still managed to put out some of the most beautiful and haunting (and sometimes funny) music you will ever hear (and also some stuff that was ... well, not so good, but hey, who doesn't?). If you can listen to "Famous Blue Raincoat" and tell me "Freebird" is a better song, well, there is no hope for you and may the heavens have mercy on your soul. We weep for you tears of purest blue sadness.

So, until next year, when Patti Page, The Cowsills and Linkin Park get the nod in, you can find me here in my corner of the Internets, sulking and tearing up copies of Scarecrow in effigy. Peace.

We Are Going To Rock

We are going to blow out the speakers on the stereo.
We are going to tear the roof off of this sucker.
We are going to party like it is going to be 1999.
Or 1899 for that matter.
We are going to dance until our legs fall off.
We are going to party like it was going out of business.
We are going to sing songs that haven't been written by anyone on this planet, we will sing them so loud the moon will cry because its ears hurt.
We are going to kick this party out the door and then invite it back in, only to kick it out again.
We are going to throw the kind of party that you can only experience in history books.
We are going to rock like Napoleon Bonaparte.
We are going to rock like Pablo Picasso.
We are going to rock like Vasco da Gama.
We are going to party until the sun burns up.
We are going to party until we run out of music.
If there is a world record for rocking, we will break it to pieces.
We are going to rock like electric robots on fire.
Our party will rock so hard that the crust of the earth will rupture, spilling out massive amounts of molten hot awesome that will burn us all to cinders.
We are going to party like astronaut explorers being ripped apart by a black hole.
We are going to party like hypnotized donkeys.
We are going to party like breakdancing kung fu masters.
We are going to rock like Godzilla, Bruce Lee and Frankenstein teaming up to beat the living bejeepers out of Dracula, the Mummy and the Wolfman.
And Mothra.
And Martha Stewart.
And that one guy with that beard that comes out to here.
And Keanu Reeves.
We are going to kick this party like it is a bad habit like heroin or listening to Rush Limbaugh.
We are going to rock like 76 electric guitars wailing in the darkness of a scorpions heart.
We are going to rock like kittens drinking a saucer of milk.
We are going to rock like rattlesnakes who have grown to an unimaginable size.
We are gong to rock like Batman and Superman got into a fight over who their favorite Spice Girl is and they didn't speak to each other for weeks.
We are going to explode the sun with our rockingness.
Our party will become the legends of future civilizations.
Our ability to rock is second to none.
We will not be out-rocked.
Everything must be rocked.
The ottoman.
The electric can opener.
The other can opener that you have to turn with your hand.
The butter knives.
The bones of dinosaurs.
The unicorns of Norway.
The pet rock collection.
The stained glass windows depicting how we rock.
The entire set of Franklin Mint commemorative plates.
Potsy, Mouth, Richie and especially the Fonze.
They must all be rocked.
We are going to rock our faces right off of our heads and it will be so much better than that movie with John Travolta and Nicholas Cage.
We are going to rock like tube socks made from electric eels with electric eyes and electric toothbrushes.
We are going to rock with the combined power of all of Jack "King" Kirby creations.
Which is a lot of power.
We are going to party like pirates on the high seas of love.
We are going to rock like it is the law and we must obey it.
We are going to rock like the Pythagorean Theorem.
Like the Berlin Wall.
Like a baby's scream.
Like a bobcat's tail.
Like the wild blue yonder.
Like a special effect.
Like the moon on the water.
Like the ocean's tears.
We are going to rock so hard, Bigfoot will come our of hiding and regain his rightful place as King of the World.
We are going to rock because we know of nothing else we do as well.
We are going to rock because we like - no - love it.

We are going to rockrockrock.

Oh yes, indeed.

...If I can just find that Paula Abdul cassette.