A Time Before Blogging

In the early days of Premiere Radio Networks, we achieved journalistic excellence by publishing the Premiere News & World Report from 1988 through 1992. This fine periodical began as the top sheet of the Plain Wrap Countdown and emerged into a strong, independent newsletter which was both received and ignored by radio stations, record labels, celebrities, TV shows and movie studios.

The PNAWR was a circular, hailed by "Jimmy Kimmel Live Producer," Steve O'Donnell, as, "better than it needs to be." Steve, then head writer for Letterman, put action behind his words by giving our little newsletter a place of honor on the cover of a Late Nigh With David Letterman script.

We, naturally, exploited the hell out that situation. And to the best of my recollection and my ability to scan recently unearthed documents, here is the way events unfolded.

1) This edition of the weekly newsletter reached the desk of Steve O'Donnell.



2) Steve O'Donnell (or a staffer acting upon his instruction) cut out the classy photo of Bob and Jeff (seen above) and affixed it to the Letterman script (seen below) which was then, without explanation, slipped into an envelope and shipped to me. (Thank you, Steve, or intern acting upon his instruction)




3) Honored and delighted, we rushed to press with the Letterman script cover as our front page photo and a daring caption challenging O'Donnell to use this newsletter as his next script cover.



4) O'Donnell didn't blink.



5) Now, the challenge was ours. We were up to it.



6) Volley not returned. O'Donnell was bested and he knew it.

Or... he's still considering his response.

Our weekly publication was lovingly cut and pasted together using glue, scissors and a typewriter (look it up on wiki) I laid the whole thing out with ruler, pencil and glue stick in the back of a local Hollywood print shop. They ran off 500 copies, we hauled them back to Premiere, folded them into threes, stapled them, stuck labels on them, fed them through the stamp machine and off they went to clutter the floor of every passing business acquaintance unfortunate enough to populate our Rolodex.

Those newsletters, like this or any blog, serve to document not just ourselves and our loved ones but the times in which we live. The fashion, the politics, the hair-do's, the pop culture, and the very technologies which give them life. The PNAWR was born in a time before clip art, where we pressed stamp to ink to page in pursuit of decorative accents.

And now, through this new techno-form, I am able to bring it to you. And once again, we demonstrate how the Internet has affected miraculous change. Tear, crumple, toss has become control-alt-delete.

Jury Duty?

I'm on call all week for jury duty which has me beginning every sentence with the qualifiers: "if I do get called," and "if I don't get called." So, this week, I've got the plan, and the backup plan. Today, I did not get called for jury duty and the backup plan included blogging. Lucky you.

The jury duty summons is strongly worded. It says, "Failure to respond may subject you to a fine, incarceration or both, as well as performance of jury service."

This implies that there are citizens of Los Angeles who remain unfazed by the threat of fine or incarceration but would bristle upon the receipt of these penalties, topped off by jury service. "Your Honor, I'll take the caning, the pillorying, the scarlet J, the water boarding and the naked human pyramid, but for the love of God, not the jury duty."

Stateside Stand Up

Tuesday is stand up comedy night at Stateside Restaurant & Lounge and we are proudly instituting a new tradition whereby we take photos of comedians and audience members together in post comedic bliss. I then post these photos on myspace and facebook so that all can proclaim, "Haze of alcohol be damned. I was there!"

Happy, satisfied Stateside StandUp customers with Bret Ernst and Iliza Schlesinger

Bagg of Noize


These guys are less blurry in the flesh but this is a cool photo

My cousin, Patricia Bock manages a band called Bagg of NoiZe. For no apparent reason, I take great delight in calling them Bucket of Clatter and my sister Joann seems to heartily enjoy calling them Bagg of Boys. You may choose to call them Satchel of Sound. Do not, however, mislabel their quality. They are awesome. At a recent Battle of the Bands at the Good Hurt Club, they brought it and rocked it.

Olivia's Bat Mitzvah

Was loud.

What loud looks like

There was a charming gentleman at my table whose only word the entire evening was, "Huh?" At least I think that's what he said. It was loud. Olivia and her parents were beautiful. There was a photo booth. The food was wonderful. Little brother, Max was adorable. Another precious milestone was marked as we danced to the music high above the city lights.


The doorman let us in because we looked this good.
Jam I must. Go read the rest of your internet.