David Bowie...kissed me!

Several years ago when I was ensconced in the local art scene in Vancouver (Canada), I caught drift of a rumor that David Bowie would be landing at the dock down at the waterfront - at which point - he planned to check local venues for up-coming concert dates.

Since Mr. Bowie (in the glitter-Queen phase of his musical musings at the time) was antsy about air travel, he chose to take a cruise up the coast on a luxury liner.

All my pals were inclined to doll themselves up in wild "Ziggy" Stardust get-ups - and swarm the docks - to get an up-close in-your-face gander at the legendary stage performer.

Since I just got back from an all-night trek up the coast from San Francisco, I was dead tired. Too pooped to participate! But, how could I pass up a golden opportunity to meet Ziggy?

So, I sashayed down to the harbour with a gaggle of Queens in tow. To be truthful, I didn't expect much, except a glimpse of the celebrated pop icon from afar.

But, as luck would have it, our motley rag-tag gang was given the nod to flounce right alongside the musical wizard as he disembarked from the gangplank.

Well - at this fantastic juncture - hysteria broke out among the fans.

A host of Ziggy Stardust impersonators screamed out Bowie's name - and on the heels of the chant - shrieked with delight when he favored 'em with a wave their way. As the frenzied throngs surged forward - for one fleeting moment - I thought the wild-eyed fans might carve out an actual scrap of flesh for a ghoulish souvenir.

Nonetheless, Mr. Bowie remained cool, and barely blinked an eye.

In the eye of the storm - Cherry Vanilla (who was acting as a sort-of press agent) - managed to steer the scintillating pop entourage out of harm's way.

Rock historians probably recall that Cherry Vanilla was an infamous plaster-caster, known for fashioning strikingly realistic "molds" of the co**s of a handful of rock stars she'd bedded on the rocky road to fame.

Suddenly - out-of-the-blue - the gathering circus struck me as surreal.

What the heck, at this pivotal moment, I opted to take a leap into the great unknown. Yup, grab for the brass ring, if you will. After all, I was in a wild and zany mood heightened by the fact I was fantastically sleep-deprived.

As David brushed up next to me in the crush of ecstatic fans, I unabashedly asked for a kiss - in what amounted to a titillating tease - I guess.

Suddenly, Mr. Bowie turned - gazed deeply into my eyes - and leaned forward.

Then, in one brief moment, our lips touched!

As fate would have it, a couple of photographers quick on-the-uptake, excitedly snapped away and captured the entire episode on film!

I was flabbergasted a few days later when one of my pals rang me up on the telephone and reported some startling news.

"There's a picture of you and David Bowie kissing in the morning Terminal City Express!"

I suppose the caption should have read: Two stars collide!

Since that bizarre outlandish day, I haven't had the pleasure to cross paths with Mr. Bowie again.

If the honor ever descends on moi - I wonder - would the Pop Star know me from - um - Adam, let's say?

Naw, I used to look like Peter Frampton in those heady days!

Now, I'm just another pretty face in Tinsel town.

Bill Clinton...quote of the day!

Thirty times...
I will not chew gum in school!










In response to Jesse Jackson's protests that - "he didn't know a microphone was on" - when he was captured uttering a vulgar remark levelled at Barack Obama's - um - manhood, slick Willy was quick to jump into the fray and offer up a bittersweet bon mot at a Harlem News Conference Thursday, which was undoubtedly the quote of the day.

"If all of us lived on live mikes, 100% of us would be embarrassed."


Dog has different plans for Bill...

The Rocker...side-splitting film theatrics. Rainn Wilson a "hoot"!

New York Dolls Big Apple pix...

Last month, I caught the high-energy premiere for - "The Rocker" - at a Film Festival in Las Vegas.

Now that slapstick promos are starting to stream across the Internet, I anticipate the side-splitting comedy will be opening soon at a Theatre near you.

The red-carpet affair was a blast!

Rainn Wilson - sizzlin' hot comic of the moment - caused quite a stir when he arrived in full regalia - outlandish over-the-top Rock Star attire - in what was billed as "The Largest Limo" in the free world...with a rag-tag band of friends in tow - a midget, scintillating showgirls, a Centurion, Magician, uh-huh!

Post: 07/13/2008

For those who grew up on Rock Music, the film is a must-see. After all, its a dead-on send-up of the entire "Rock" generation, which delights.

Lainn's wild characterization and skitzy screen persona hit my funny bone, no problemo!

And - in addition - "Rocker" managed to conjure up a handful of delicious memories from the far reaches of my psychedelically-enhanced grey matter!

Back in the seventies - a hip dude I knew - was a roadie with the J. Geils Band. So, of course, he liked to party-hearty. On the weekends - or when he had some down-time off-the-road - the two of us would get all gussied up in pink spandex pants, flimsy silk shirts with ruffles down the front, and boots with four-inch heels; then, trek down to Max's Kansas City in downtown NYC.

Inside this den of iniquity, ragged Rockers and underground Stars from the Warhol Factory, hung out nightly and well into the witchin' hour.

During that time-frame, the New York Dolls were all the rage!

In "Rocker", Lainn plays a dynamic hard-driving drummer for an up-and-coming band. Just as the leading-edge musicians are about to sign a lucrative contract sure to guarantee a launch into the stratosphere of sound, the band is forced to dump Lainn's character from the line-up in favor of a nephew of the record exec who's going to be pulling the career strings.

The rejection is not taken lightly; in fact, the jilted skins expert slumps into a twenty-year funk and it does not appear he'll ever snap out of it.

Then, one day, his nephew's is in dire need of a drummer for their garage band.

The opportunity is met with a lot of consternation, at first; but, the faded rock dinosaur finally commits.

The band's first stage appearance is on the verge of resounding success, when Lainn's character suddenly "flashes back" and goes overboard. His fatal reach for the immortal abyss turns into a catastrophic failure; consequently, he ruins the first gig.

In fact, the band crumbles; goes kaput.

But, there is a resurrection and a finale a filmgoer won't want to miss.

Lainn steals the movie, hands down; partly due to his amazing comic-timing, but also because he's been given well-scripted material to springboard off of.

One of my favorite lines in the film occurs when the rocker notes that the music business can be a tough row to hoe.

"They play Celine Dion in the elevator. That doesn't make it right."

But, a relatively new face - in the role of a sleazy Band Manager (played to the hilt) - is the one to watch out for. That actor is going places, no doubt.

Christina Applegate turns in a well-keyed performance as a young mom protective of her naive teenager.

All the supporting players are believable, likable, and round out the entertainment value of the well-produced film.

Rock on, eh?

Christina Applegate plays squeaky clean...

Profile of Barry Brucker...Mayor of Beverly Hills ignores resident complaints. Police Department entraps motorists...

If you are familiar with the "flats" in Beverly Hills - you are no doubt aware that just north of Santa Monica Boulevard - there is a small lane that runs parallel a mile or so.

Gardeners and maids in the employ of upscale matrons in Beverly Hills - indeed, a handful of residents, too - often take a quick jaunt along the lane for a few blocks rather than face the daily onslaught of rush-hour traffic along the main strip.

However - every few blocks or so, posted signs note - that between the hours of 7 and 10 in the morning motorists are only permitted to make a "right" turn on a handful of streets.

Of course, this has not only caused some confusion for the locals - but visitors - too.

Because drivers are permitted to stop at the cross-street, check for traffic, then proceed down the lane for the better part of the day - understandably - most folks are under the impression that the "right" turn sign at a couple of the streets along the lane essentially means there are no "left" turns permitted during rush-hour traffic.

However, it is their distinct impression that once checking for traffic, they can proceed on down the lane.

When one motorist recently did so, he was quite surprised to spy a motorcycle cop pull up behind him as he turned the corner on Crescent Street, to park.

Because the driver was in the dark as to why he was being stopped, he engaged in a conversation with the cop - a Beverly Hills Police Officer by the name of Gates (Badge No. 34075) - to determine why a ticket was being written up.

At this juncture, it was evident that Officer had been up to "no good". In fact, his actions amounted to entrapment - in my estimation - if not outright stalking.

For example, during the conversation Gates (no relation to the former police chief, by the way) let it slip that two blocks back the motorist had correctly stopped and driven through the intersection and down the lane without any violation of the law.

Now wait a minute. Two blocks back, you say?

The driver was a little startled because - for one - he never noticed any police officer in his rear-view mirror for the length of his "journey" down the alley.

At this point, it was evident that the Officer had been hiding behind a bush, laying in wait for an unsuspecting driver to become his next "prey".

Notwithstanding, when the motorist noted the sign gave the impression that although "left" turns were disallowed - through traffic was okay - Gates had the audacity to argue that the City didn't have a sign to convey that to drivers.

Gosh, almighty! Sentient beings can whiz a man off to the moon, but public works in Beverly Hills can't craft a sign that doesn't confuse motorists?

When the victim of the "ticket" stalker filed a complaint with Mr. Barry Brucker (the Mayor of Beverly Hills) the lazy representative of the people never even bothered to give the motorist the courtesy of a reply. More shocking perhaps, was his failure to even investigate the troubling issues.

In fact - when I made an inquiry about Mr. Brucker one day at City Hall - a guard informed me that he rarely put in an appearance at the office; in fact, he only breezed in to check to his mail now and then or attend a scheduled City Council meeting.

I expect the "lay-about" is off playing golf during the day. Or, rubbing elbows with the tony elite at fancy luncheons - looking for ways to feather his own nest - eh?

Since the issue of the sign - and the unjust ticket came to my attention - I have noticed in recent days that Beverly Hills Police Officers are inclined to "hide" behind bushes on side streets that offshoot Santa Monica Boulevard in a deceitful effort to snag unsuspecting motorists who are cruising along none-the-wiser.

Usually, the motorcycle cops are parked on the "wrong side" of the street - behind a lot of foliage - where they are surely a hazard to the public-at-large!

For instance, any unsuspecting motorist who makes a sudden turn around the corner without warning, is bound to careen right into the hapless cop.

But, when an officer has sh** for brains, what do you expect?

Notwithstanding, I was quite appalled recently when I came across a whacko person in the park at Canon Drive, spitting on Japanese Tourists and hurling racists remarks in their direction.

Was there a Police Officer on duty in the vicinity to take charge as the frightening drama unfolded in the ritzy enclave a hop-and-a-skip away from a main thoroughfare in Beverly Hills?

No.

The doughnut scarfers were all busy hiding behind bushes - waiting for motorists to disobey confusing traffic signs - so they could ticket 'em unjustly.

Zsa Zsa Gabor obviously had the right idea when she gave that "copper" a smart slap in the face.

Beverly Hills' finest?

Not!



Beverly Hills Police bushwack...

My first fan...five-year-old tot!

After years of procrastinating, I finally got off my butt, and purchased a keyboard.

Although I come from a family of musicians - until now - I've neglected to pick up an instrument and follow the family tradition.

My father taught violin during the day - and at night - got down in legendary "Hogs Hollow" in Toronto with a popular band known as the "Jolly Millers". I understand that "Victor" also played on stage with Don Messer (one of Canada's most famous fiddlers) who had a highly-rated TV show on CBC back in the fifties.

My Aunt - Evelyn Holyoak Braithwaite - was a little more high brow. She performed "Rob Roy" at the Royal Alexandria Theatre in Toronto and was well-received across Canada when she appeared in concert through the auspices of Ward Buchner Tours.

While I do sing, I never plucked up an instrument previously (except for a few weeks last year when I dedicated myself to a round of strenuous piano lessons).

After I made my auspicious purchase yesterday, I plunked down on a park bench, and began to toy with "ODE TO JOY" and an inspirational Hymn, "AMAZING GRACE".

To limber up, I ran a few scales, too.

A young father happened along with a young tot about four or five years old.

As soon as the notes hit the air, her eyes went wide and she ventured forth, amazed by the sounds that were tripping trillingly off the keyboard like magic.

Fancy that, my first fan!

An elderly woman (about eighty or so) stopped for a moment to listen thoughtfully, too.

Meanwhile, bright and early this morning - at a fountain in the park - joggers and strollers alike gave me the nod as I worked on a rendition of "LEAN ON ME".

Maybe I have a career in music, after all. In spite of the fact I am a little long in the - um - tooth!

Now, if I could get a handle on "Les Barricades Mystérieuses".

Well, if you're ever out for a stroll one starry night, and 'ya hear some haunting music emanating from beneath a bridge, well - that's undoubtedly me - playing my little heart out!

If I ever make it to the Hollywood Bowl - you're all invited - 'fer sure!

Mamma Mia...sing for a free ticket to screening! Friday July 18th!

To celebrate the opening day of the romantic musical comedy - Mamma Mia! - Universal Pictures is hosting a Mamma Mia! singing contest.

Members of the general public are invited to sing one of the many beloved ABBA songs featured in the film.

The first 100 participants will receive free admission to see the new release - Mamma Mia! - on opening day!

Location:
Pacific Theatres
The American at Brand
889 Americana Way
Glendale, CA 91210

Event:
Friday July 18th
12:00 PM - 2:00 PM

Info: http://www.americanaatbrand.com

Porn...Webmaster names site Julian Ayrs to rustle up traffic!

Yesterday, I was quite startled to come across a link with reference to me, while I was conducting a search of my name at GOOGLE to locate some client information.

Although the caption appeared to refer to a post from several months ago, there was a bit of "gobbly-gook" in the caption feed that didn't make any sense.

So, naturally, I clicked on the link to check it out.

The screen went black, my name (Julian Ayrs) scrolled up in the center, then the words "LOADING" signalled a countdown of some sort was underway.

Suddenly, about six panels of raunchy "PORN", splashed onto the screen!

For the most part, there were a lot of in-your-face close-up shots of pu**y, nubile displays of tender a**, and - of course - titillating images of lusty naked gals giving head to hunky dudes with humongous co**s.

Whoa Nellie!

Someone went to considerable time and expense to throw together the site.

An homage to me? A silly prank, perhaps?

No.

It dawned on me this morning that the Webmaster for the porn site must have been trying to capitalize on my successful blog (which is fed daily to popular blog sites like Zimbio, Technorati, and Wordpress).

Because so many people have been searchng for my blog - or specific posts - in recent weeks, it must have occurred to an enterprising individual that a site with my name, with an appropriate tag, would show up in a "Google" search.

By including my name in the "entry", the person no doubt anticipated that Internet surfers - seeking my blog posts - might click on their link by mistake.

And, in the final analysis, they might succeed in rustling up some new clients, sales, whatever!

Well, I'm flattered by all the attention!

Unfortunately, PORN is not my thing.

Sure, I’ve been in the shower at the gym on a few occasions when a couple of guys have approached me to do adult films.

While I believe that a person should show off their best assets, I have always followed the old axiom that you should never do anything you wouldn’t want your mother to see!

And, as I've always said, I'd rather partake in the lascivious acts, then watch someone else erotically perform 'em on screen.

As Robertson Davies once said,

Pornography is rather like trying to find out about a Beethoven symphony by having somebody tell you about it and perhaps hum a few bars.