Ron Palillo, 1949-2012

He taught us that Horshack meant "The cattle are dying," which has become sadly prophetic all too soon. Godspeed, Ron Palillo, and if I didn't spell that right, notice that he couldn't spell it either.

Let the "Good Times" Roll

The other day on the treadmill at the gym, I happened across an episode of "Good Times" airing on something called Antenna TV, a division of Tribune Broadcasting that is available on "digital subchannels" of regular stations across the country. I don't know how that works, but apparently, my gym does.

I hadn't seen "Good Times" in years, maybe even decades - I would say that it's remarkable how young Jimmie Walker looked, except that he hasn't been seen in public since like 1982. One thing I love about coming across ancient TV shows is how much of their current-day culture they project, in ways that weren't apparent to us back in the day. The plot of the "Good Times" I saw (which, I see now, was the second episode in the series' run) revolved around a painting J.J. had done of "Black Jesus." As soon as the Evans family hung the portrait in their living room, they embarked on a remarkable string of good luck. James got an unexpected refund from the IRS, for instance, but my favorite was that Thelma got asked by a boy to attend an Isaac Hayes concert with him. I can't imagine a single TV show that wouldn't be improved by sending the characters to an Isaac Hayes concert. Jim Rockford should have gone to an Isaac Hayes concert. The Golden Girls should have gone to an Isaac Hayes concert.

There was also an IRS-fueled joke, in which Florida said that the president (not named, but it was Nixon, on his last legs) probably got a tax deduction for taking Israel to lunch. I was struck both by the sophistication afforded to Florida and the level of knowledge required to fully get the joke (which I admit, I don't). You don't see that kind of political humor in sitcoms anymore, and you especially don't see people taking such strong political sides in sitcoms.

Just as striking as the content was the form that the episode's storyline took. Florida wants to take down Black Jesus, because she thinks everyone is just falling for silly superstition, but James, who has a job interview the following day, wants to keep the picture up at least until then, to keep the good luck rolling. Then J.J. enters, dejected because a local art competition didn't accept his portrait done in the style of Ernie Barnes, who did the famed mural of all the dancing people shown over the end credits of "Good Times."  James suggests he take Black Jesus to the competition instead. J.J. demurs, saying he doesn't want to jeopardize the family's run of good fortune, but James insists, saying that this is J.J.'s best chance to win the contest, and he should run with it. J.J. finally accepts. End of episode.

We don't find out if J.J. wins the competition. We don't find out if James gets the job. We don't even find out if taking Black Jesus off the wall ends the string of good luck, although I suspect that it did. Most modern sitcoms would try to tie up every last one of those loose ends, I think. "Good Times" thought it was sufficient to end the story with the father making a sacrifice on behalf of his son. It's probably better that way.

A Brief History on Why Hiring Mariah Carey is the Greatest Decision American Idol Has Ever Made

Mariah Carey is the new American Idol judge! Officially! Mariah Carey! I don’t think America can fully appreciate the enormity of this announcement. She is a megastar. Like, a legitimate League of Extraordinary Divas co-founder and lifetime board member. Singer extraordinaire, and songwriter to boot. The type of untouchable legend the likes of which the American Idol judging booth has never known. This is major.

Let’s be clear about one thing: American Idol doesn’t deserve Mariah Carey. At all. It has done nothing and produced no one since at least Carrie Underwood circa 2005 who can even remotely be considered a star. Adam Lambert? Talented? Yes. Do I like him? Yes. But superstar quality? Not quite. Kris Allen? Snore. Lee DeWyze? Who?

Mariah though. Damn. I mean, talk about bringing in a producer’s fantasy. (Sorry. Couldn’t help it.) I don’t care if you’re a fan or not: Her resume is impeccable. The top-charting and top-selling Billboard artist of the 1990s. Over 200 million albums sold worldwide. Five Grammys. A five-octave vocal range. She still holds a 1996 record for most weeks at Number One (16) for “One Sweet Day.” She is second only to the Beatles in Number One hits. After a few years out of the limelight, she came out with one of the most successful comeback albums ever (The Emancipation of Mimi. Do yourself a favor and buy it immediately). Forbes estimates her net worth at $500 million. I could go on and on. Oh, and she’s the singer and songwriter of the single greatest modern Christmas classic of all time.

Also, she’s a goldmine of unscripted antics. Mariah's recent appearances on QVC are the kind of daytime candy you can only pray for. Her MTV Cribs appearance alone, the most watched episode of that show ever, should have netted her a permanent television gig years ago: Mariah gave viewers a tour of her lingerie closet, put on said lingerie and took it off to take a bath, changed outfits approximately five times, did some reps on the StairMaster while wearing a micro-mini and stilettos...the list goes on and on. The woman has a lounge chair in her kitchen, and she owns more Hello Kitty t-shirts than my 8-year-old nieces combined. She spews gems like “There was a time in my life when I only had one pair of shoes. I saved those shoes, but I can’t find them now.” Absolute genius.

But I think the crux of American Idol hiring Mariah Carey now is an acknowledgement that 1) they need help and 2) the Paula Abdul method worked. Remember back when American Idol first debuted in the summer of 2002? Back then, America didn’t know she needed a voted-on pop singing idol – she just walked around buying Destiny's Child and Eminem albums at the FYE at the mall like a fool. Reality shows that involved weekly voting by the people weren’t a thing yet. Back in its infancy, the judge’s table consisted of Simon, Paula and Randy. Randy Jackson (who was not, unfortunately, Michael’s baby brother, but some bassist/record producer who had some credits on songs people had maybe heard of) made his presence known by adding “dawg” to every phrase that came out of his mouth. There was Simon Cowell, who, at the time, no one knew shit about, but he seemed like a good foil to that “You’re the weakest link, goodbye” lady, and America loves a foreigner with an accent who will crush dreams, so he was a win.

And then there was Paula. Everyone loved Paula Abdul. Paula was an absurdly talented little pixie choreographer who had made her bedazzled-blazer mark on pop music and had straight-up won our hearts a decade before this whole judging thing came up. She was the real star on the panel. No wanna-be contestants are going to show up singing Simon or Randy songs – those don't exist. They’re going to sing Paula!

But then, somewhere after years of reality dominance, Paula – sweet, babbling, confusingly complimentary Paula – needed a break, and she left the fold. Simon fumbled and kept adding people to the judge’s table who were not certified pop superstars: Songwriter Kara DioGuardi’s greatest co-contributions are Christina’s “Ain’t No Other Man” and Pink’s “Sober” (both excellent, neither worthy of a judge’s seat); and Ellen DeGeneres, who, as enjoyable as it is to watch her dance, has just as many Top 40 hits as your mom. Then, a breakthrough! Simon gets bored of his own show and leaves to re-launch an American version of his other hit show, the one where the audience votes on the best prospective pop star! (That Simon Cowell: A man of many insults, but few original ideas.)

In the wake of Simon’s absence, Idol had a renaissance. They hired veteran badass rock star Steven Tyler to lend some credibility (what the man lacks in fully functioning brain cells he makes up for in notoriety and hilarious jibber-jabber) and sexy sexypants Jennifer Lopez, who desperately needed a career boost after years of succumbing to husband Marc Anthony’s desexification program, also known as “covering up her assets because J.Lo gets way more attention in public than skeletor does.”

Anyway. Steven started talking to his bandmates again and J.Lo lost the wraith, got her groove back and got herself back on the Billboard charts, so they both decided to hit the road. And then American Idol won the megastar diva lottery and scored Mariah Carey. I don’t know how. A miracle. A goddamned deal-with-the-devil miracle. This is a show that has steadily lost viewership. It fell behind Sunday Night Football this past season. And they just lost their two star judges? Sure, Randy Jackson is still there, but really, has anyone ever really cared what he said? AI was on life support, and Mariah Carey just swooped in with her angelic voice and 7.5 million Twitter “lambs” and saved the day. And honestly? She’s worth every penny of that $18 million they’re giving her. 

Mariah Carey isn’t a case of a forgotten star looking for people to remember her greatness. She still has a career; she’s put out three albums in the past four years. “We Belong Together” was named song of the decade by Billboard. She had a whirlwind romance and wedding to Nick Cannon (who, I might note, knows a thing or two about the reality TV game, as he’s been hosting America’s Got Talent for four seasons), and got plenty of tabloid covers based on their relationship, her longest pregnancy ever, and her naming #dembabies Moroccan and Monroe (Note: Go re-watch Cribs if you want some explanation on the names). Then, Mimi and Nick nicknamed the twins Roc and Roe, which 1) Is better than everyone expected (like, say, Sparkle Kitty and Lollipop Discocharm, which seemed like contenders) and 2) I TOTALLY CALLED THOSE NICKNAMES BEFORE THEY MADE THE ANNOUNCEMENT. And while odds of her upcoming album and single (conveniently due next month) doing well were already high, history suggests that AI will boost Mariah’s sales figures far more than it will any of the contestants who are vying for votes and contracts. Her judging gig will expand her fanbase while broadening Idol’s. Win win.

And I have no doubt that Mimi will throw some serious shade at anyone who attempts “Hero” or “Fantasy” or thinks they understand the virtues of melisma. She may be sweet as honey, but the woman knows the business, knows the music, and knows when to lay down the law. Pop music critic Sean Daly once described contestants during the early days of Idol as breaking down into three categories: “1) The Talented Kids, 2) The Weird Kids, and 3) The Mariahs.” He noted that, “The Mariahs are the hardest ones to watch, mainly because most of them think they’re reeeaaally good. [They] plant themselves in front of the judges and proceed to stretch, break and mutilate every note of a song, often Mariah’s ‘Hero,’ a tune that has ruined more throats than smoker’s cough.” Word. If your name isn’t Mariah Fucking Carey, you don’t get to sing that song. And she knows it. Do you think she's going to listen to a William Hung butcher her song? No. No she is not. She’s going to own this show. Simon is off crying in a corner because he didn't think of this earlier.

Adult Education

I got to wondering the other day about the Adult Contemporary charts, and how often it was that big hits there don’t make any sort of splash on the regular pop charts. AC hits have pretty much dominated the pop charts for long stretches of time, unlike, say, C&W hits. It's hard to think of an adult-contemporary single that would get no traction at all on Top Forty radio, at least until recent years. 

I figured there were some Number One AC hits that didn’t reach the Top Forty, but they would at least make the Hot 100, right? So I went through my copy of Joel Whitburn’s Top Adult Contemporary 1961-2001, looking for any AC Number Ones that didn’t make it to the pop Top Forty. And just maybe, there would be a song somewhere that went all the way to Number One without even Bubbling Under. Because if I don’t do this kind of thing, who will?

OK, here’s my list of all the AC Number Ones (from 1961 to 2001) that failed to crest the Top Forty:

“In the Arms of Love,” Andy Williams, 1966, peaked at No. 49 on the pop chart

“Time, Time,” Ed Ames, 1967, No. 61

Here I thought the only thing Ed Ames ever did was throw a tomahawk on the annual Johnny Carson anniversary special, but it turns out he had three No. 1 AC hits in 1967 alone.

“Stop! And Think It Over,” Perry Como, 1967, No. 92

“It’s Such a Pretty World Today,” Andy Russell, 1967, No. 119

Not bad for a Steelers linebacker. This one, you can see, never made it past Bubbling Under on the Hot 100, but we’ll encounter other songs that didn’t even make it that far.

“More Than the Eye Can See,” Al Martino, 1967, No. 54

He had another No. 1 AC hit that year with “Mary in the Morning,” later covered by Elvis.

“When the Snow Is on the Roses,” Ed Ames, 1967, did not make the pop chart.

Our first non-charting No. 1.

“Cold,” John Gary, 1967, did not make the pop chart.

Our second one, which directly followed Ed Ames in the AC No. 1 slot.

“Chattanooga Choo Choo,” Harpers Bizarre, 1968, No. 45

The same twee vocal group that had a big pop hit with a cover of Paul Simon’s “59^th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy).” Their lead member was future Van Halen and Doobie Brothers producer Ted Templeman, which amuses me to no end.

“In the Misty Moonlight,” Dean Martin, 1968, No. 60

These last two are the first two No. 1 AC hits, chronologically, from 1968, which gives us a sequence of 14 consecutive AC No. 1s in which eight of them never reached the pop Top Forty. I almost wonder if they weren’t tracking the AC charts differently in those days. Or maybe with the Beatles and Stones at their peak, the charts just diverged wildly. As you’ll see, this is highly unusual – and it stopped, dead cold, without warning.

“When There’s No You,” Engelbert Humperdinck, 1971, No. 45

“I’m Coming Home,” Johnny Mathis, 1973, No. 75

"99 Miles From L.A.," Albert Hammond,  1975, No. 91

Co-written with Hal David, this song also appeared later that year on Art Garfunkel’s 'Breakaway,' which is where I know it from. Plus, you all know Albert Hammond Jr. And "It Never Rains in Southern California."

“Wonderful Baby,” Don McLean, 1975, No. 93

“Venus (disco version),” Frankie Avalon, 1976, No. 46

The original went to No. 1 on the pop charts in 1959.

“This Moment in Time,” Engelbert Humperdinck, 1978, No. 58

“I Never Said I Love You,” Orsa Lia, 1979, No. 84

“Believe in Me,” Dan Fogelberg, 1984, No. 48

“As Long as You Follow,” Fleetwood Mac, 1988, No. 43

“Cuts Both Ways,” Gloria Estefan, 1990, No. 44

It’s hard to believe this never made the Top Forty, since I still got sick of it anyway.

“You Gotta Love Someone,” Elton John, 1990, No. 43

“Tell Me What You Dream,” Restless Heart featuring Warren Hill, 1993, No. 43

“Here in My Heart,” Chicago, 1997, No. 59

I'm sure Kurt Blumenau knows this one. I don't, but I have no doubt that it sucks.

“For the First Time,” Kenny Loggins, 1997, No. 60

“Taking You Home,” Don Henley, 2000, No. 58

“The Christmas Shoes,” Newsong, 2000, No. 42

Blech.

“Cruisin’,” Huey Lewis and Gwyneth Paltrow, 2000, No. 109

I bet you didn’t expect to see Gwyneth Paltrow on this list.

“Simple Things,” Jim Brickman, 2001, did not make the pop chart

Our third and final Did Not Chart. If I were more conscientious about this stuff, I’d check to see of this trend from 2000-2001 continued; I suspect it did, with the Top Forty becoming more dance/urban/R&B-oriented over the past decade.

Andy, Elvis and the Fourth of July

Very special thanks to my Aunt Colleen, Debris Slide's biggest fan, for sending over the following poster, which appeared in the Tampa Tribune yesterday as a tribute to the late Andy Griffith. As you can see, Andy headlined a power-packed lineup of country music stars, all of which you could indulge in for the low, low price of a buck and a quarter - fifty cents for the kids! The date of the show was July 31, 1955, and I bet you anything Andy did "What It Was, Was Football."

Lots of fun stuff to note here: This may be the first appearance of the title "The Andy Griffith Show," but it was far from the last. And Ferlin Husky was a pretty big star by then, with the Number One country hit "A Dear John Letter" under his belt - c'mon, guys, can't you spell his name right? Simon Crum, by the way, was also Ferlin Husky - it was his cornpone alter ego, the Chris Gaines of his day.

Also, at the bottom of the bill, note that there's a 20-year-old truck driver from Memphis, appearing "by popular demand." It was fifty-eight years ago today, on the evening of the Fourth of July, that Elvis first sat down with Scotty Moore and Bill Black to see if they could work up some material together. They went down to Sun Studios to lay down their first tracks the next day, July 5, 1954.

Posterized

I saw this highly unusual item from 1975 recently, from an odd source - Albert Brooks (@AlbertBrooks) tweeted it. It's a poster advertising the imminent debut of a new late-night comedy show on NBC:

There's a lot of fun stuff in there; for instance, Billy Crystal is listed as appearing, even though he got cut after dress rehearsal and took a lonely train ride home to Long Island. Albert Brooks is the second-leading draw, after Carlin. And I don't know what channel 20 in New York City was - the whole time I lived there, channel 4 was the only NBC station.

But what's really wacky is the title of the show. As you probably know, Lorne Michaels wanted to call his show "Saturday Night Live," but Howard Cosell beat him to the punch with his own show of that title several months earlier. So when Lorne's show went on the air, it was called "NBC's Saturday Night."

Contrary to what the poster reads, to my knowledge, at no time was the show ever called "NBC Saturday Night - Live." It's possible that some zealous adman thought the show was called "NBC Saturday Night" and then added the "Live" to emphasize that aspect, but then the "Live" shouldn't have been in the quote marks. And it was always "NBC's," not "NBC."

Is it possible that the show had this tentative title at some point prior to its initial airing? I doubt it - since the poster says "tonight's host," it couldn't have been printed much before the show's debut, long after they would have settled on a title. I think it's just another example of advertising people not paying attention.

Top Three Paul McCartney Songs About Dogs

1. "Hey Bulldog"
2. "Jet"
3. "Martha, My Dear"

Yes, I know "Hey Bulldog" was mostly written by John Lennon, so it arguably doesn't belong here. But it was originally called "Hey Bullfrog," until McCartney started barking up a storm on the outro, at which point they changed the title. So Paul is responsible for whatever canine leanings that song has.

You know how that song came about, right? The Beatles went into the studio to film a promo clip for "Lady Madonna" just before they went to India, and "Paul said we should do a real song in the studio, to save wasting time," Lennon said later. So while they were being filmed allegedly playing "Lady Madonna," they were in reality laying down "Hey Bulldog." Some bright boy recently had the idea of going back into that footage and recutting it to show the song the band was really playing. Here it is:

Bob Welch, 1945-2012

Bob Welch, singer-guitarist for the pre-Buckingham-Nicks Fleetwood Mac and solo artist in his own right, dead at the age of 65. Welch grew up in Beverly Hills, the son of the producer of several Hope-Crosby movies. After graduating from high school, he moved to Paris supposedly to attend the Sorbonne, but in reality he "mostly smoked hash with bearded guys five years older," he said later. He went back to California to attend UCLA for a while, joining an unsuccessful band called the Seven Souls, then settled in Paris. After spending two years "living on rice and beans and sleeping on the floor" and befriending Ed Bradley, Welch was asked to join Fleetwood Mac upon the departure of guitarists Jeremy Spencer, who found Jesus, and Peter Green, who went nuts. Supposedly, the Mac asked  Welch to join without ever hearing him play, which I don't quite believe.

Fleetwood Mac had churned through a lot of personnel in its early years, and the band was already three years old when Welch joined in 1971. In fact, two months after the first album in which he appeared, Future Games, CBS released the first Fleetwood Mac greatest hits compilation. He was instrumental from the get-go, writing the title track to that album, and his "Sentimental Lady" appeared on the next Mac LP, Bare Trees. His FM-radio staple "Hypnotized" appeared on 1973's Mystery to Me, and Welch wrote most of the 1974 Heroes Are Hard to Find. But even though he engineered a move of the band's base to his hometown of Los Angeles, Welch claimed that he felt alienated from the other, British members of the group, and quit the band in December 1974.

He couldn't have been too alienated, since Mick Fleetwood was reportedly still his manager as Welch embarked on a solo career. After leaving the Mac, Welch formed a power trio called Paris, which released a couple of quickly forgotten LPs. His first proper solo album, 1977's French Kiss, contained a re-recording of "Sentimental Lady" produced by Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks (who had never even been in a band with Welch), with Christine McVie on backing vocals and Mick Fleetwood on drums. It sounded Fleetwood Mackier than the version he had cut with Fleetwood Mac, and went to Number Eight on the pop charts very early in 1978. (The single's cover art, a detail of the French Kiss cover complete with that Mary Tyler Moore Show font, was kinda gross, if you ask me.) French Kiss had two follow-ups that also made the Top Forty, "Ebony Eyes" and "Hot Love, Cold World."

Welch's next album, 1979's Three Hearts, contained another hit in "Precious Love," which creased the Top 20 in the spring of that year. He continued to release solo albums throughout the 1980s, to diminishing returns. Eventually, he also released two albums worth of re-recorded Fleetwood Mac material.

In 1998, Fleetwood Mac was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The five Rumours-era members were all included, as were Peter Green, Jeremy Spencer and Danny Kirwan.  Bob Welch, who was a key songwriter, guitarist and vocalist through five Mac albums, was not. I have no idea who makes this kind of decision, but it kinda sucks.

Bob Welch died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the chest. I wish I could say I find this surprising, but I don't; we live in a time when meaning falls in splinters from our lives. Bob Welch's fame and success (and possibly his money) all happened a long time ago, and there were stories that his health was poor. After years of being a full-on rock star, I'm sure it's hard to go back to living on rice and beans and sleeping on the floor.  

If It's Not Scottish, It's Crap!! A Birthday Salute to Mike Myers

All of us here at Debris Slide wish a very happy birthday to Mike Myers, one of the foremost comic minds of this or any other generation. As with Jonathan Richman, I first saw Mike Myers in Chicago in the 1980s, when he was performing onstage with the Second City E.T.C., the second string for that venerable show. (Since I now seem obligated to offer birthday tributes for people I first saw in Chicago in the 1980s, I probably ought to look up Ron Kittle's birthday.) I recall he did an improv as a Jamaican toaster, soliciting suggestions from the audience and incorporating them into his rap. Someone had thrown out "Pop-Tarts," and Myers made mention of Milton the Toaster, which was not only a pun but a highly impressive reference for a Canadian.

I've been thinking about Mike Myers lately because all the episodes of "Saturday Night Live" from the 1990s are now available on Netflix Streaming, and I've been plowing through them. After the early years, this was probably the most impressive era for the show; it was certainly the most talented post-1980 cast. At the time, it seemed to me that Dana Carvey was touted as the breakout member, but his work doesn't stand up as well of that of some other members:

* Phil Hartman was just devastatingly funny, deadpan and note-perfect in the commercial parodies while also serving as maybe the best straight man the show ever had.  Watching the show now, I can see Carvey letting the audience in on the joke far too often, especially in his overcooked impersonation of Bush the Elder, but Phil Hartman is always completely within his characters. (Carvey's Bush got very insufferable very fast, but in his defense, it was probably easier to take seeing it once a week rather than having to deal with it a couple times a day, as I have been lately.)

* Victoria Jackson was perhaps the most underrated cast member ever. She seemed to be hired to play the  blonde bimbo, but she had a sparkling quality that elevated every sketch she was in, even when it was just as wallpaper (which happened far too often). Every line reading was fresh and unexpected. I find myself often hoping she'll turn up in every domestic sequence, just because she's such a pleasure to have around. And her Roseanne Barr/Arnold was hilarious.

* With all due respect to Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Norm Macdonald and Tina Fey, Dennis Miller was the best Weekend Update anchor ever. Things were pretty freewheeling back then, and he'd do anything from his trademark abstruse allusions to one-liners in reference to wacky news photos. He was very smart and always seemed like he was having a great time up there, which helps.

* And there's Mike Myers. I am astonished at how well he could create a fully rounded character in even throwaway skits like All Things Scottish, the store whose motto was "If It's Not Scottish, It's Crap." (He basically played the same guy in So I Married an Axe Murderer.) You can see this most clearly in "Wayne's World" and the subsequent movies: Dana Carvey is playing a caricature, while Myers is playing a character. You would no more want to see an entire movie about Garth than you would want to see an entire movie about Pat, but it's always nice to spend time with Wayne. Mike Myers is also the only cast member who was able to translate incredible sketch-comedy skills  into a long and fruitful movie career, as opposed to people like Bill Murray and Eddie Murphy, who ended up just playing themselves.

It couldn't last, of course: Miller left in the spring of 1991, to be replaced by the horrible Kevin Nealon. Nealon brought nothing to the table; it wasn't just that he had no spin or personality to put on the news, he often couldn't get through the jokes without stumbling over some words. At some points, he seemed to be racing through the items just in order to get them out with mispronouncing something. The audience sometimes didn't even know where the joke was supposed to be.

Victoria Jackson, whose tenure at SNL was reportedly not happy, left at the end of the 1991-92 season. Her replacements were undistinguished, to say the least, including the remarkable Beth Cahill, surely the least talented performer ever to appear on the show, with her weak voice, lack of stage presence and penchant for looking around for the cue cards. She starred in the short-lived Delta Delta Delta series of skits alongside Siobhan Fallon and Melanie Hutsell, and while those two were hardly Jane, Laraine and Gilda, Cahill might as well have not been on the stage for all the impression she made. If you didn't know  better, you'd think Cahill had won some sort of contest in which random civilians were invited to appear in one of the shows.

The show would soon be taken over by the likes of Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider. And while those guys could be pretty funny - Sandler was to East Coast working-class goombahs what Bill Murray had been to Chicagoland working-class goombahs - it's no surprise that they went on to make a series of movies targeted at 15-year-old boys.

But if I were to put together a dream SNL cast, probably half of it would be from circa 1990. Here's a first pass at it, with an appropriate mix of gender, race, and comedic skills:

John Belushi
Jimmy Fallon
Phil Hartman
Jan Hooks
Victoria Jackson
Dennis Miller
Eddie Murphy
Bill Murray
Mike Myers
Gilda Radner
Chris Rock

I'd watch that show.

Top Ten Rock Hits With a Trombone Solo

1. "Let 'Em In," by Wings (1976)
2. "A Message to You, Rudy," by the Specials (1979)
3. "Wrong Way," by Sublime (1996)

Well, I guess that's all I got. Make that "Top Three Rock Hits With a Trombone Solo."