Tiger Woods…who flips a beat?

Converstaions at the Tiki Bar

A perspective, ala Beatsville

This riff is a little off topic for Tiki Lounge Talk, but it has been a conversation at the Tiki Bar between my old lady and I, so it gets laid down on the score, ya dig?

Who the hell gives a flip what scene Tiger made, except for maybe his old lady?

Oh sure, we all dig ripping on some cat who got caught with his paw in the cookie jar. And dig it, Tiger Man did bust up on one of the 10 Commandments: Thou shalt not swing with another hip chick while the hen is roosting in the coop, unless of course thy old lady riffs to that krazy scene.

So the flipsters and spinners that hit the airwaves are making big bones about this cat’s high-infidelity. Soakin’ up the green, that’s all they’re in it for, no matter that it splatters the cat’s rep like a frog in a blender.

As the Big Man once said, “let ye who has not blown a sour note or riffed a bad scale cast the first stone, baby.” I say, if the man wants to goof on golf balls and knock around with some chicks, that’s nobody’s jazz but his own. Leave the cat alone and let him swing, both with golf club and kittens.

Are you hip?

- Darrin C. M. Buckley, for the Tiki Lounge Tiki Blog

A Little Chili in South Florida

Even in the land of swaying palms and warm sunshine, we get a few days when the temp dips down below 70°. This is one of those days. We had to bring the parrots inside from the lanai last night, because it went down to the 50°s! Seems strange when it gets chilly like this. Reminds me of the North. And I don’t like the weather in the North.

Which reminds me once again, why I moved to Sunny South Florida. Oh, there were tons of krazy reasons, but the thing that nailed the lid down on the coffin was when in Winter of 2000, during a light but annoying snowfall, I went to put my key into the door lock of my ’75 Buick LeSabre Convertible (which hadn’t had the top down in months), and the keys flew out of my frozen, trembling hand and landed in three inches of snow. It was the soft, powdery snow, and it promptly closed in on itself, disguising the place where the keys landed. To make matters worse, there was a good two inches of oak leaves and stringy dead grass under the snow. In the end, it took two hours, a rake, a shovel, and frozen feet and hands before I found them. It was then I vowed never again to live in a climate where A) I couldn’t put the ragtop down year round, B) The weather sucked eggs 9+ months out of the year, and C) I could ever lose my keys in the snow.

So here I am, where the sun keeps shinin’ through the pouring rain, where the weather suits my clothes. Today I’m wearing a sport jacket over my Hawaiian print shirt to keep out the chill. In a couple of days it will be in the 70’s again, and all will be right with the world.

-CP

Quicky: Halloween Party A Success, ’53 Chevy Giving Me A Headache

Chris Pinto's 1953 Chevy Belair Custom Hot Rod

Later this week I’ll have a fun post all about our annual Halloween Bash…this year, the DISCO OF DEATH. I’m still goin through pix and video, so give me some time…

Meanwhile, my 1953 Chevy Belair Hotrod is giving me grief. I wanted to park it in front of the house, by the Disco of Death entrance for the party. I worked on it on & off for two weeks, getting it ready, sealing the top in case of rain, rebuilt the carb etc. On the day before the party I go to start it up, and the battery is stone cold dead. I jumped it with my battery charger, and it barely turned over. So I let it charge overnight. Party day, I go to start it up and it gives me grief. Won’t start on the first, second or third try. I let it set a second, and on the fourth try…no, it didn’t start, the starter motor fried. 55 year old starter never gave me any trouble until Saturday. So the Chevy spent the party sitting in the garage looking pretty.

Also, 20 minutes before the party, 1/2 of the electricity in the house went out, including my sound system, buffet table and all the lights and effects outside. I blame this on my father’s ghost (more to come on that later in the week). Luckily I was able to get everything back on (blown breaker) in time for the party!

More on the party tomorrow…

Count Basie, Corner Pocket

A while ago I came across this video of the Count Basie Orchestra playing Corner Pocket back in 1962. If there is such thing as big band jazz perfection, this is it. Basie’s band was known for it’s exceptional combination of virtuosity and soul. This version of Corner Pocket illuminates both.

I had the pleasure of playing lead tenor sax + solo on this arrangement in my college big band. Although nowhere near as swingin’ as Basie’s band, I’ll always be happy and proud to have swung this number in that college band.

Sit back, pour a Manhattan, and take five to enjoy this: The Count Basie Orchestra swinging Corner Pocket (Until I Met You)

Conversations at the Tiki Bar

Tonight’s post was going to be on our evening at the Mai Kai in Fort Liquordale, for the murder mystery we attended. Well, sorry to say that will have to wait until I am fewer sheets to the wind.

Instead, here’s a Tiki Bar Conversation I’ve had with my wonderful and beautiful wife, Colleen.

“You see, today i got news at work that one of our major clients might be forced to leave us. This is not good. it is still up in the air, but as any seasoned Advertising Executive would tell you, it’s a good excuse to hit the bar.

So my lovely wife was kind enough to play the part of the 1950’s chick, and had a Scotch on the Rocks waiting for me at the door when I got home. The conversation revolved around the dull economy, uncertain future, and the fact that at least we have each other, and a bottle or two of the good stuff.

Funny enough, without knowing it, she poured me a double shot of my 1957 Chivas Regal, something i was saving for a special occasion. No worries here. As she said, booze is made to make you feel good. And it sure did.

I don’t care if we lose a client. There are plenty more out there. I’m damned good at what I do and as long as I’ve got blood and alcohol pumping through my veins, I’ll survive. If those kats in the 30’s could get through the Great Depression, we can get through this.

So, this is it, world. Watch out. I’m coming at you with both barrels. And  with my fantastic wife and a bottle of single malt by my side, I can’t be stopped.”

- Mack, Creative Director, EP Advertising