Today marks fifty years since we lost Buddy Holly. 

For a scholarly discussion you're going to have to go somewhere else.

For me, it's all about this record.

DIRECTIONS: PLAY LOUD

                                                                                            ----Ed Kaz

I don't hate the Super Bowl but I don't love it either.

I have chosen to opt out of this glorious red-blooded American pastime. Haven't entered any betting pools and I'm not going out on a buffalo wing run anytime soon. All this sort of activity makes me numb with non interest.

For those of you who don't live in America, please let me attempt to outline a typical Super Bowl Party for you:

3:00PM
The guys show up. Start to graze around the table. The arousing smell of Sterno fills the air. Someone always cleverly says, "I love the smell of Sterno in the morning," followed by "Good wing, huh?" "Yeah. Got 'em at Chucks in Princeton. You gotta order 'em a week ahead of time."

4:15PM
The traditional first gas pass. There is a lot of pressure for the person emitting the first one because it has to be highly original in its execution. "Larry! Jesus H. Christ!" Everyone rushes to the other side of the room, laughing and covering their faces in mock terror. "It's just a mouse barking." explains Larry.

4:17PM
Begin reminiscing about gas emissions of Super Bowl parties past. "Remember the one Bob did? We hadda leave the windows open for a week." "Yeah dey hadda call HAZMAT haw haw." Digress into discussion of famous gas emissions on various cruise vacations. "Tony did one at the craps table." "Yeah! And then he goes, 'Well why do ya think they call it a craps table HUH?'" "Yeah! I couldn't believe he said that." Laughter ensues.

5:10PM
Wings are gone. Start looking for old stuff in the fridge. Begin to consider a White Castle run. "You was readin' my mind Ernie!" bellows Ralphie. "I'll be back in a flash."

5:22PM
Cell phone rings. It's Ralphie. Cops pulled him over. "Luckily it was Larry's cousin, so he let me go with a warning but he took some of my fries the bastard."

5:32PM
Ralphie swerves into the driveway with sacks of White Castles in both arms. He's pretty much the MVP of the evening.

6:23PM
First $8 million Super Bowl ad airs. Larry missed it; he was in the bathroom. But the gang recounts it for him:

"There was this hot chick eating a Dorito and then she threw it in the air and the Dorito turned into Samuel L. Jackson and he said "There's a Motherf*cking DORITO on the motherf*cking plane!"

"That wasn't Samuel L. Jackson, that was Cuba Gooding."

"Well whatever. It was a Dorito and it was funny. And how about that Budweiser one where the chicks thought they was at Chippendales but they read the sign wrong and the Clydesdales came out and gave them lap dances!"

"Yeah. I read on the computer that that one was controversial."

8:20PM
Half-time show. Kid Rock raps "This Guys in Love with You," followed by surprise appearance by Herb Alpert with the Tijuana Brass reunion (look for a big tour this summer). Sheryl Crow traipses out clad only in whipped cream and practically THROWS herself at Alpert. I'm excited, aren't you (yawn)?

Wonder if there are any White Castles left...

8:27PM
Uh...I really don't know what happens now because I've never stayed that long. Could someone please fill us in on how these Super Bowl parties end?

Me?  I'm going to curl up with a cup of tea and a good book until this whole nutty thing blows over.

                                                                                            ----Ed Kaz

Yesterday after work I caught the W train.

After the doors slid shut I began to discern a lovely mellow male voice coming from the other side of the car.  It was an older African American man holding a cane and a bag, serenading the other passengers with his relaxed style.  The song was Sam Cooke's "Only Sixteen."  I love Sam Cooke, don't you?

She was only sixteen, only sixteen
I loved her so
But she was too young to fall in love
And I was too young to know

When he got next to me, I dropped some change into his bag and quietly stated, "You're gonna get in trouble singing that song."  He looked at me quizzically.  I explained.  "Only Sixteen?  Come on!"  He chuckled and said, "Yeah, I was in the other car singing it to two young girls.  I could tell they thought I was weird."  

I recommended  "A Change is Gonna Come."  He thought about it for a second and said "No!  I've got one!" Then he turned his attention to the little boy with glasses who was watching us chat and said, "Do you want to go back fifty-two years and sing a great Sam Cooke song with me?"  The kid just looked at him.  Then he added, "If you can sing it with me I'll give you all the money in my bag."  The kid said, "You can keep it."  The man smiled, offered and received a fist bump and went into the most beautiful version of "Cupid" I've ever heard on that particular subway.

Cupid draw back your bow
And let your arrow go
Straight to my lover's heart for me, for me.

The man moved down the car, singing his song as people reached for loose change.  I saw two teenage girls break into wide unguarded smiles.

As I got off the train, those same girls were behind me on the stairs, and they were giggling.  "He was the sweetest old man, wasn't he?

This country's feeling pretty good these days.

                                                              ----Ed Kaz

Then one day who do you think showed up at the TV studio?  None other than the legendary Imogene Coca.  During the shoot I politely asked, "Could you please hold this?"

Coca complied.

END OF PART 3

Like I said, out of boredom can come great art, or at least a bunch of scribbles.  At company meetings I'd always be bored and always be scribbling.  Not words or ideas, mind you, but drawings of my fellow workers.

This was one of my favorites.  A co-worker by the name of Karen:

I think I really captured her essence there.

Need proof?  Take a look for yourself...

                  Ain't it uncanny?

But you're probably asking how the heck Soupy Sales figures into all of this. 

Well, let me tell you...Oops!  We're out of time!

END OF PART 2

 New Yorkers witness the inauguration at Dewey's Flatiron, Fifth Ave. and Broadway.

Can you find Kaz?

On Saturday I posted an image of the great Soupy Sales holding one of my drawings. 
 
The image set off an intense flurry of controversy. 

Why was Soupy Sales holding your drawing?  Nah, that's just a Photoshop trick.  No way would Soupy Sales be holding your drawing.  Soupy Sales is way too cool and like, legendary and stuff to be holding your drawing.  Right?  Ed?  You there?  WTF?

However, Mr. Sales was in fact holding my drawing and here's how it happened:

The Road to Soupy PART 1

Life can sometimes be dull and boring.  What one does with those seemingly interminable stretches of time is the true measure of one's ability to rise above it.  As for me, my credo is and has always been to find art in everything I do.  And everything doesn't exclude company meetings.

If you've ever seen me at a company meeting you'd think, "Wow!  Ed's really paying attention.  Look at how he's scribbling down  notes!"

A peek over my shoulder would quickly debunk that thought:

I was drawing cartoons of my fellow workers.

END OF PART 1