Undiagnosed, disconnected thoughts of the week
By Tad Wilkes, Nightlife & Lifestyles Editor
Various postulates and brain farts on …
Obama’s not a Muslim. Romney’s a Mormon. Sammy Davis, Jr., was Jewish. One time he dressed up like a catholic priest with Dean Martin and rode in a Ferrari across the United States. Which candidate will restore America to that glory?
Sammy also had one eye, just like that pyramid on money. Federal money. Coincidence? Where is Glenn Beck with a chalkboard when we need him? Under Obamacare, is all our treatment administered by Burt Reynolds, Dom Deluise and Jack Elam in a souped-up ambulance?
If you have a large mole on your neck, that’s cool. But if it has inch-long pubish hairs dangling out like tendrils hanging from a potted fern, do some maintenance. Especially if you are selling food.
Muffalettas are good. Go find one. Try to find a purveyor without shiny, long, black hairs coming out of a mole. Oby’s has both the muffaletta and lack of the hairs.
Johnny Glove/White Mike
I first saw this peculiar, yet dead serious, young gent (pictured above and immortalized in video below) while watching Jackson public access program Star Struck, around 1995 or ’96 with my roommate, at which time it was already a rerun. We missed the beginning, so we never knew his full name, but the host calls him “Johnny.” We fired up the VCR and recorded what we could. We called him “White Mike,” for obvious reasons. Others we showed it to later called him “Johnny Glove.” A friend at some point thankfully took a copy of it and broke it up into segments and uploaded it to YouTube. Thanks, Dru.
Here’s one song and the interview. I’m still mesmerized by every detail of it. All we really know for sure is that he recorded some stuff for J-Town records, a subsidiary of Malaco Records, and the people are “really gonna like it.” Oh, and the sombitch is flat dangerous. He’s gonna lay it on ya like ya never had. And, baby, that’s the bottom line. And he’s really lookin’ for a good year.
The Star Struck episode is to effeminate amateur entertainers as the Patterson footage is to Bigfoot. No one is really sure if it is real. And like the Patterson footage, debate exists as to whether this is a male or female specimen depicted.
I wonder what became of ol’ Johnny. I speculate now either he’s a hairdresser in Pearl, a Jehovah’s Witness or dead. Anyone with any clue please contact me. Here it is. I hope you’re seated:
The Vanilla Fudge
Aw, hell, now I’m on YouTube. This is also amazing. It reminds me of when Lynyrd Skynyrd footage came on TV one time, and my dad looked at Allen Collins and snarked, “How long ’til the dope wears off?” Summary: Three Italian mugs and a blond guy drink some past-date milk, raid Vincent Price’s closet and go on television.