Shana Ting Lipton’s CULTURE VULTURE Blog/featuring podcasts (updated weekly)

Archive for September, 2005

Happy Birthday, Big Boss

Friday, September 23rd, 2005

He’s the big man, the top of the heap, the one you answer to, the one who knows. The masculine East Coast poet/prophet in blue jeans…the boss man. Happy Birthday, Boss. In honor of your day, here’s a humble song you wrote.

“Nothing Man”
(Bruce Springsteen)

I don’t remember how I felt
I never thought I’d live
To read about myself
In my hometown paper
How my brave young life
Was forever changed
In a misty cloud of pink vapor
Darlin’ give me your kiss
Only understand
I am the nothing man
Around here everybody acts the same
Around here everybody acts like nothing’s changed
Friday night club meets at Al’s barbecue
The sky is still the same unbelievable blue
Darlin’ give me your kiss
Come and take my hand
I am the nothing man
You can call me Joe
Buy me a drink and shake my hand
You want courage
I’ll show you courage you can understand
Pearl and silver
Restin’ on my night table
It’s just me Lord, pray I’m able
Darlin’ with this kiss
Say you understand
I am the nothing man
I am the nothing man

Posted by Shana Ting Lipton

Phone Call from Sam, The Squirrels and Other LA realities tinged with a Surreal Edge

Wednesday, September 14th, 2005

Regarding the last entry, I’m afraid, James, Tom and Kris, I’m going to have to break the news that Sam Elliott has won the award. It wasn’t just site nepotism this time, but a phone call that sealed the deal. Mr. Elliott was gentlemanly and cool enough to call yours truly and leave a treasured message on her voicemail. On it, he expressed with perfect throaty delivery and awesome words thanks for my LA Times TELL article which centered on his larger-than-life persona. He’s a good-looking rugged cowboy and it’s always nice to meet handsome strangers, but this was one of those rare occasions when a voice through a telephone might have possibly been better. He is after all the man whose voice is in the “Beef, it’s what’s for dinner” commercial. That’s pretty butch.

In other local news, what’s with the avocado eating squirrels invading my little hillside abode? I hear organic grenades being dropped on my roof all day. When I run out I see one with an avocado larger than its head running accross my fence. I have taken to adopting a sort of Ma Clampett posturing, as I run out to grab my broom and shoo them away. If they eat all those lovely avocados there will be none left for me to give to my neighbors, the local store and guys I want to impress.

And finally, I want to ask you ladies, are you a Bill Maher kind of gal or a Jon Stewart woman? I think the answer says a lot about your demeanor and your values. Both are equally cool liberal talk show hosts, don’t get me wrong. But one is good-looking and amiable and the other whining and womanizing. Personally, I’m a Real Time with Bill Maher junkie. I love the curmudgeonly weirdos. I guess it takes one to know one.

Posted by Shana Ting Lipton

STL Best Facial Hair Awards

Friday, September 9th, 2005

This is it. This is your chance to say your peace on shanatinglipton.com. Below are the four nominees for my Best Facial Hair Awards. Don’t hesitate. Cast your votes now, folks…
Will it be…

Contestant #1: James Brolin, Babs’ man

Contestant #2: Rhodes Scholar Kris Kristofferson

Contestant #3: Authoritative and distinguished Tom Skerritt

Contestant #4: Tried and true (the site favorite), zen cowboy biker Sam Elliott

Posted by Shana Ting Lipton

Harumph! Sociological Sound Bytes…

Monday, September 5th, 2005

HURRICANE KATRINA: Shame on the Bush administration for keeping those poor (Black, we might add, and totally relevant) people waiting for days without relief causing them further grief, trauma and in some cases death. Kudos to everyone’s favorite gay metro, Anderson Cooper for sticking it to the man and being a reporter with balls (that’s a new one these days) and DEMANDING answers to difficult questions. He would not sit there and listen to politicians congratulate themselves and give “stock” responses (which he differentiated from “answers”) in this time of dire need. Interestingly enough, even old stuff shirts like Lou Dobbs have followed suit in their angry on-air tirades. Witness, today, Dobbs berating the Reverend Jesse Jackson for bringing attention to the fact that these miserable faces on TV were all black (and likely poor). Well, guess what Lou, that is relevant. Maybe, as a big fat, wealthy white guy who does the financial report and complaints about Mexican immigrants every week, it doesn’t seem like a point of contention, but wake up buddy, it is. Also, why did Lou Dobbs even ask the Reverend to come on his show when all he did was ask him questions, allow him a 20 second answer, interrupt, disagree and give his own editorialized diatribe about what was going on? I think to redirect and ask difficult questions and keep asking them is vital to journalism. But to just rant on and on as if he’s CNN’s own O’Reilly Factor, poor judgment.

THE SCHOOLGIRL FETISH: I was thinking of this the other day while on the treadmill. Most men have a weakness for women dressed like schoolgirls, in tartan skirts with pigtails (thank God for my Lolita ass). Many angry women complain that these men are pedaphiles and can’t deal with a real woman so they turn to little girls. I disagree. If this was true, the men would be excited by viewing themselves as leacherous old men. But they don’t. None of these men want to think of themselves as old or somehow perverted. It strips them of their virility in some cases. The reason they like the schoolgirl thing is because this is what they saw when they were coming of age at 14, 15, 16 years old. They weren’t constantly exposed to women in business attire (with the exception of their mothers, if they were kids in the 80’s). They were exposed the look of a young girl. Seeing a tartan mini on a girl (with nice legs) brings them back to a time when they were sexually raw, the early powerful stages of puberty before Viagra was needed. So, hey, lay off these poor guys, alright ballbustin’ ladies?

THE KNITTERS SHOW: I saw the former members of seminal punk band X on Friday night as their rockabilly country incarnation, The Knitters. What a fabulous show. Apart from the fact that my friend’s band The Lucky Stars played an awesome warm-up set for Jewish lesbian folk singer Phranc (with a “p,h” and a “hard c”) John Doe, Exene, Dave Alvin and the gang started off slow and built up a lot of steam by the time they went into an encore with the best cover of Steppenwolf’s “Born to be Wild” I’ve ever heard. And hey, it really was my sexual demographic, butch, scruffy rockabilly dudes in their forties and fifties wearing flannels and jeans.

CUNNILINGUS/RAPE-ILINGUS: New term invented by me to refer to the moment on a first or second date when a man desperately makes his way down to your nether-regions in an attempt to prove that he’s man enough to go down. But why oh why do these men think that we women are hard-wired like them? Sure, a man’s ideal woman is three feet tall, with a flat head so you can put your beer on it and no teeth but we women are NOT LIKE THAT. A man might be able to close his eyes and enjoy the oral phillanderings of just about any old troll. But we women are finicky. Many men seem to think that if they immediately go down on a woman it gives them, ‘the keys to the kingdom.’ News flash: we don’t want just anyone lapping it up over there. We need to be really attracted to you before we LET (that’s right, it’s a privilege, not a virility contest) you pleasure us. If you prematurely start making your way down there in an attempt to pleasure us against our will, be prepared for a fight that will cause you some serious head damage. You are committing a crime: rape-ilingus.

Posted by Shana Ting Lipton