Yuri's night

I still think we should be celebrating Alan Shepard...but Brian made this nice graphic. Yuri's Night '07

Moon Shot

There it was. Finite. If Deke, and the others before him and those who would follow were successful, then man had taken his first faltering steps not merely to other worlds close by, but to far distant stars and worlds revolving about those alien suns. Deke looked down on his world in a mixture of sadness and hope, for he knew this planet earth one day would pass into history. No one knew when, but all knew it was inevitable.

He knew that if one day men were successful in journeying to distant stars and populating the planets of those far away stellar engines, then the race of man was safe. A star might go nova, obliterate an entire solar system, but if man populated many solar systems...he smiled to himself. Then life would go on.

That was the gift to the future of all those among us who made it possible. Shepard, Armstrong, Conrad, Grissom, Gagarin, Leonov, Stafford, Scott, Irwin, Young, Cernan, Glenn, Cooper, Schirra, Carpenter -- and so many more.

And on that roll call there was now this name to remember.
Always.
Deke Slayton.
Astronaut.

(Excerpted from Moon Shot by Alan Shepard and Deke Slayton)

Today would have been Deke's 83rd birthday.

He was chosen as one of the original Mercury 7 Astronauts but was grounded because of an erratic heartbeat. Since he couldn't have a Mercury flight, Deke became the Director of Flight Crew Operations -- one of his main jobs was to choose the crews for the Gemini and Apollo programs. He did, however, finally make it into space as the docking module pilot for Apollo Soyuz in 1975.

A few weeks ago, I stood in front of the Astronaut Offices at the Johnson Space Center (home of NASA) in Houston. I thought, this is the place where it happened. And that's the building where Deke Slayton sat at a desk and decided who would go to the moon. I realized that for the first time in my life, I was walking in and among the buildings where some of my heroes once trained and sacrificed to explore the unknown...and I felt myself getting a little teary. I sat in historic Mission Control at the console once occupied by Flight Director “failure is not an option” Gene Kranz. I looked around the room, closed my eyes, and wondered what it would’ve been like to be in here during the heyday of Apollo.

I stood at the podium used by JFK when he delivered the famous "We will go to the moon..." speech. I peeked inside Gordon Cooper's Faith 7 – it’s unbelievable how small that thing really is. But he must’ve been awfully comfortable in there given the fact that he fell asleep during countdown and again while completing his 22 orbits around Earth. I also saw Cooper’s Gemini V capsule – he shared that one with Pete Conrad. The capsule is about the size of a VW Beetle and Conrad said it was like “spending eight days in a garbage can”.

I walked into the auditorium expecting it to be empty. But in the lobby was the crew of STS 117 – their mission is to deliver solar panels to the International Space Station. Launch is scheduled for March 15th.

And I met Gene Cernan -- the Commander of Apollo 17 and the last man to walk on the moon. As he climbed up the ladder of the LM to make the trip back to Earth he said: "As we leave the Moon at Taurus-Littrow, we leave as we came, and God willing, as we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind. As I take these last steps from the surface for some time to come, I'd just like to record that America's challenge of today has forged man's destiny of tomorrow. Godspeed the crew of Apollo Seventeen."

And as I drove off the Johnson Space Center and turned right onto NASA drive, I hoped that someday soon new visitors from Earth would set foot on the surface of the moon and remember the names of those who paved our way...

In Memoriam: Joe Rosenthal

Joe Rosenthal, who won the Pulitzer Prize for this picture of the flag raising atop Mt. Suribachi, passed away on August 20th in California. He was 94.

In the front are Ira Hayes, Franklin Sousley, John Bradley and Harlon Block. In the back are Michael Strank and Rene Gagnon

Believe it or not, some people actually think the fighting ended when the flag was raised, but it continued for another 22 days and claimed over 10,000 American casualties. Not long after Rosenthal snapped this photo, three of the flag raisers — Strank, Block, and Sousley — were killed by the Japanese.

Believe it or not, some people actually think this photograph was staged. Film shot by a combat cameraman on Iwo Jima proves otherwise, yet this image still generates controversy. Rosenthal had this to say about it:

This picture…it has a meaning to me. I see all that blood running down the sand. I see those awful, impossible positions to take in a frontal attack on such an island, where the batteries opposing you are not only staggered up in front of you, but also standing around at the sides as you're coming on shore. The awesome situation, before they ever reach that peak. Now, that photograph can serve to remind us of the contribution of those boys—that was what made it important, not who took it.

AZZURRI!

Over the last four years I have denied my love of the Italians...but for the last four weeks, it's been difficult for me to contain my passion. So I must admit now that I have always been and will always be a fan of the Azzurri. Their game is like opera...there's drama, violence, passion, heartbreak, revenge, victory and defeat, joy and sadness, and love.

Love? Yes. Have you seen the way they put their arms around each other and sing their national anthem? Or kissing and hugging one another after a victory? They even cut Camoranesi's hair to celebrate winning the 2006 cup. It makes me teary.

This obsession with the Azzurri began during the 1990 World Cup in Italy. The player was Salvatore Schillaci - who made his debut in the first game against Austria as a substitute. He scored the winning goal, and Italy beat Austria 1-0. He eventually won the golden boot, scoring six total goals. The '90 cup was the Notti Magiche di Totò Schillaci (magical nights of Totò Schillaci). Schillaci's club team: Juventus

Then came Roberto Baggio and Guiseppe Signori in the 1994 World Cup in the States. Baggio scored five total goals in the tournament, but is probably most remembered for missing his pentalty kick in the final against Brasil (my brother was at the game, sat with the US National team, and has a picture of Baggio's missed shot). I still have newspaper clippings from Italy's matches...and I had a Baggio jersey (I stupidly gave it away...such is the demon of denial) and a Baggio poster. Baggio's club team: Juventus


I started off the 2006 Cup by telling everyone how much I disliked the Italians. That way, I could watch their matches late at night (thanks to Tivo) while everyone was sleeping and no one would know. I continued to discuss my dislike until the semi-final match against Germany (it's difficult to contain your excitement when you're in a bar with a hundred other people). My heart beat faster when I saw Alessandro Del Piero warming up on the sideline, and I jumped out of my seat when he scored in the 121st minute...it was bellissimo. Some trivia: The area 10 yards outside the penalty box is known as La Zona Del Piero. Did you know that the French coach, Domenech, distrusts Scorpios and that astrological sign is absent from the French squad? Well...Del Piero is a Scorpio. And his club team: Juventus

"Siam pronti alla morte:
Italia chiamò!"

I may have to change my nationality.

Tu y yo! Ale, ale, ale!

Go, go, go! Ale, ale, ale! (apologies, but I've got that Ricky Martin song in my head)

Back in '02 I wrote a World Cup article for some magazine. Click on those fancy images to read said article. And at the bottom, you'll find the heartfelt "letter to the editor" written by umlaut which the lovely editor of said magazine printed in issue #62.

In case you missed my previous football posts:

European Championships 2004 (and if you meet my brother, be sure to ask him about my re-enactment of the Bataan Death March during this trip)

Soccer Generations

Day of Days

You will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world. Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped, and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely....The free men of the world are marching together to victory. I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty, and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full victory. Good luck, and let us all beseech the blessings of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.

General Dwight D. Eisenhower giving the D-Day order on June 6, 1944.

Q Ball's Chicken Dumpling Soup

It was by far the best pot of soup that I've ever made.

The recipe was my grandfather’s: George "Q-Ball" Sagorac. He liked to tell me he got that nickname because of his haircut, but not too long ago I heard a different story: Apparently, my Grandfather and his cousin, “Uncle” Eli Malkovich were pool sharks. Unfortunately, no one seems to know for sure, so I guess it'll just exist as a legend.

I really can't picture my Grandfather as a pool shark. Maybe that’s because I spent most of my early childhood with him in the duplex we shared on 83rd street. Tata, Mom, George and me lived upstairs, while Gramps, Uncle Jim ("Chach") and Uncle Milan ("Bud") lived downstairs. (Yeah, everyone in my family has a nickname, but I’ll save that for another story.)

By the time I was 11 months old, I had learned to crawl down the steep hall stairs of the duplex. Every morning, my mom would open the child-proof gate and I’d scuttle down those stairs to sit outside the door leading to my grandfather's kitchen. I’d wait until I could hear him moving around, then I’d knock or quietly say, "Grandpa?" and he'd open the door and let me in. My mom told me recently that he knew I was sitting on the stairs in the hall, but he always waited a bit before letting me in.

He would pick me up and sit me in a chair at the kitchen table. We always had breakfast together. Gramps would brew Maxwell House in the percolator and toast four pieces of Roman Meal. I’d wait patiently for my coffee (don’t be alarmed, it was really more like a cup of milk with a tiny bit of coffee). I even had my own special red cup and saucer. When the toast was ready, we’d sit together with our breakfast, drink our coffee, and I’d watch Gramps do the crossword puzzle.

Now, Gramps wasn’t just adept at making great toast and coffee. He was known throughout the Serbian community as the man who made the best roasted lamb, pig, and chicken. (The photo was taken in our backyard in New Berlin – he even made the machines that turned the spit). He’d sit out there all day drinking Pabst, stoking the fire and seasoning the meat with his special blend of spices. Sometimes, he'd broil steaks or fry fish and pork chops coated with Shake-n-Bake. He also made fried pork fat and this Serbian “delicacy” called Djeladija (pigs feet in gelatin). Now these were all extremely tasty dishes, but my all-time favorite was his chicken dumpling soup (with extra dumplings). No one, and I mean no one, made dumplings like my Grandfather.

When I was in my mid-twenties I moved back home, and Gramps came to live with mom and me. This time around, he was the one who waited until he heard me moving around in the kitchen. He was in his 80s now, and preferred instant coffee and oatmeal, while I’d moved on to decaf and multi-grain toast. The two of us still sat at the kitchen table every morning. He’d read through the paper, but he’d let me work on the crossword puzzle.

And I cooked for him. I was a vegetarian at the time, so Gramps became my guinea pig for all sorts of new recipes. I once made a roasted garlic and potato soup that used tofu as the cream base. I didn’t tell him there was tofu in the soup, and I waited until he finished an entire bowl before I unveiled the surprise ingredient. “That tofu’s not bad,” he told me. I even got him hooked on Garden Burgers with grilled onions, but his favorite dish was my garlicky cream of celery soup. Years later, when he had to move into a nursing home, I'd smuggle Tupperware containers filled with that soup for him to eat. The food in the nursing home was terrible, and sometimes I’d get him a burger with grilled onions from his favorite burger joint and we'd sit in his room, share onion rings, eat our burgers, and watch tv.

I recently had a craving for my Grandfather’s chicken dumpling soup, and since there was a roasted chicken in my freezer I decided to try my hand at Q-Ball's recipe. The soup part was easy, but I had no idea how to make dumplings. I consulted The Joy of Cooking, Vegetarian Cooking, Epicurious, etc. but they were no help. I finally called my mom at work. The recipe was never written down (none of his recipes were on paper; Gramps made everything from memory). I wrote down, verbatim, exactly what mom told me:

- beat 4 eggs
- add a bit of garlic powder
- add enough flour to make the mixture semi-thick, not too runny
- and don't let it form a ball! (she was very insistent about that)

I'd seen Gramps make dumplings enough times that I thought I could get the batter right. I remembered standing on a stool in his kitchen, my head close to the soup pot watching him dip a teaspoon into the batter then drop it into the boiling soup.

So I mimicked his technique as best I could and when all was said and done, this was easily the best pot of soup that I’d ever made. I knew that Gramps would have been proud. I only wish that he was here to share it with me.

Honey, quick, the Polaroid

Fab Mab Reunion featuring the Dead Kennedys, Flipper, The Avengers, and The Mutants
The Fillmore
April 8 2006

Brief history lesson: The Mabuhay Gardens (aka the "Fab Mab") was a San Francisco club where you could see anything from drag performances to punk rock shows. It closed in 1984.

I knew it was going to be a good night when...a very nice gentleman standing on the corner of Fillmore and Geary treated us to a wonderful rendition of Holiday in Cambodia on the accordion. It made the song sound, somehow...French.

We ran into some friends outside, and then ventured upstairs for The Mutants and The Avengers. We sat and traded stories of past shows and bands we're listening to now. East Bay Ray walked right past us. There were so many gray-haired, tattooed, leather jacket wearing, legs in fishnet stockings, old-school punks that it made me smile. I saw a lot of punk-rock parents with their 7 to 11 year old kids. But the weirdest thing was: everyone was so nice. I accidentally bumped into someone on my way out of the bathroom, so I apologized. She started laughing and said, "we're all so polite!" There was no pretension, no posing, and most of the people there were 30 or 40-somethings. It was refreshing.

Despite being one of those 30-somethings, for a few hours I felt like I was 15 again.

The time warp started while we were standing on the main floor waiting for the Dead Kennedys to take the stage...and one of the DJs played TSOL (ohmigod - I loved that band). Highlights from the DK set: Winnebago Warrior, Buzzbomb, Let's Lynch the Landlord, Moral Majority, Rawhide, Halloween, MTV Get Off the Air, To Drunk to F*#k, and Police Truck. The crowd sang to California Uber Alles and Kill the Poor, and I even shouted the chorus during Nazi Punks F*#k Off (sorry mom!).

They didn't play I Am The Owl and Bleed for Me (the latter has one of my favorite East Bay Ray signature guitar riffs). One of my friends commented that it was sorta like DK karaoke, but even without Jello these guys look and sound really good.

They ended with Viva Las Vegas and...brace yourself, my dear...Holiday in Cambodia (sans accordion).

People outside for cigarette breaks: about 50 (I've never seen that many people smoking outside The Fillmore)
Mohawks and liberty spikes seen: about 8 total (and all on people under the age of 15)
Fishnet stockings: at least a dozen
Misfits shirts: 2 (I've been to dozens of shows with Umlaut, and this is the first time that I've actually seen people wearing Misfit's shirts)
Fight: 1

In the parking garage, we found a stuffed purple elephant with pink polk-a-dots lying next to my car. He'd been abandoned. I took him home and named him Oliver.

Look at us, we formed a band!

Art Brut
The Independent
March 21 2006

What can I say about Art Brut? I dig their fun lyrics and the fact that they don't take themselves so seriously. Here's a sampling from the song, Modern Art:

So I'm in the Tate
And I'm looking at Hockney
And oh sweet Jesus
There's something about that blue
It touches me deep inside
Amazes me when I step outside
I'm sweating
I'm sweating
I'm beginning to palpitate
I can't help myself
I just can't help myself

Modern art
Makes me
Want to rock out

Yeah! How can you not enjoy that?

The Independent was crowded, although I'm not sure if it sold out. The opening act was..um...interesting. Picture two guys from Ohio with guitars and techno tracks playing in the background. One's using vocal effects ala Peter Frampton and moving about like a whirling dervish. By then end of their set, they had both stripped down to their speedos...I think you get the picture.

Art Brut opened with We Formed A Band and Eddie jokingly commented that whoever set up the mics and gave him a 3-foot cord had obviously never seen them play before. But that didn't stop him from using his mic cord to jump rope and venture into the crowd.

After they played 18,000 Lira, someone in the crowd asked how much that would be in American dollars. Eddie thought about this for a minute, and then responded with $4.73 (it's actually $11.22 and please don't ask me why I looked that up). The band had fun, the crowd was into it, and I saw plenty of people singing along (it reminded me of seeing The Darkness at Slims: Everyone sang at that show -- including me! -- it was awesome).

Before they launched into Good Weekend, Eddie told the crowd that the song was #1 in places like Germany, Narnia, and the former Yugoslavia. The set ended with him shouting "Art Brut! Top of the Pops!" proceeded by the acknowledgment of one of San Francisco's finest bands: "Journey! Top of the Pops!".

One True Thing That Don't Fade

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
The Fillmore
March 15 2006

Okay, it took me nine months to like Howl. In fact, the first time I listened to it, I came very close to throwing the disk out the car window so that it would shatter on the 280. I wanted to hear the loud fuzzy guitars that I had come to know and love. Part of me secretly vowed not to give up, but even after their September show at The Great American, I still wasn’t convinced that Howl was a good 3rd effort.

However, the current Mercury Retrograde in Pisces has made me reconsider many things…among them, my lost love: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. *sigh* It’s like falling in love again with your ex!

I miss Robert’s black leather jacket and wild mass of hair, but it’s okay, since he’s playing the piano on this tour and sings my two new favorite songs: Mercy and Sympathetic Noose. At one point someone in the sold-out crowd at The Fillmore yelled, “Satisfaction!” and Robert played the song’s opening riff on his bass. BRMC with a sense of humor? I don’t think that would’ve happened back in 2003. Which reminds me…Black Rebel has now surpassed Blur as the band I’ve seen the most.

Show Tally
BRMC: 2003 (Fillmore & Bill Graham Auditorium), 2004 (Grand Ballroom, Catalyst), 2005 (Great American Music Hall), 2006 (Fillmore).
Blur: 1990 (Brixton Academy), 1991 (Metro), 1992 (The Vic -- they played with Senseless Things. When that show ended, we jetted up to the Metro to see The Wedding Present and The Catherine Wheel – Blur jetted up there as well and Damon sang a few songs with The Catherine Wheel), 1993 (metro), 1994 (?) we had tickets to a 1995 show, but sold them to some kids and went out to dinner instead
Vue: 2004 (Catalyst, Bottom of the Hill, Great American, Blank Club)
Oasis: 1994 (Metro), 1995 (Rave), 2005 (Shoreline)
Ride: 1990 (London Town & Country Club), 1991 (London Town & Country Club), 1992 (Metro)
Social Distortion: 1988 (Odd Rock Café), 1992 (Riverside Theatre), 2003 (Warfield)

Okay, back to the subject at hand.

Missing from Wednesday’s set at the Fillmore was Rifles – probably the best song off their self-titled debut. However, they did play White Palms. Once again they opened with six tracks off the new album – but this time, it only increased my appreciation for Howl; especially the songs, Sympathetic Noose (they must’ve been listening to John Lennon and The Plastic Ono Band!) and Mercy (they must’ve been listening to Simon & Garfunkel!)

I’m even enjoying Howl’s title track, although it’s a bit Indie sounding…which means I need to rant for a brief minute: I’ve been on iTunes listening to new bands that are supposed to be all the rage: Stars? Clap Your Hands Say Yeah?

Indie is what happens when kids take Prozac and Lithium. (Somewhere, a girly-thin white boy with a Macy's star tattoo on his wrist is crying). I don’t want to see another waif-like, pale boy crying about his dead puppy and extolling the beauty of yellow flowers. Please stop whimpering, get some sun and eat something. You’ll feel better – trust me.

Now back to scheduled BRMC programming. They dedicated Heart + Soul to their moms, who were all in attendance. What nice boys.

Fillmore setlist:
Feel it Now
Fault Line
Restless Sinner
Shuffle Your Feet
Aint No Easy Way
Howl
White Palms
Stop
Six Barrel Shotgun
In Like the Rose
Weight of the World
Promise
Sympathetic Noose
Gospel Song
Shade of Blue
Red Eyes and Tears
Spread Your Love
Punk Song

Devils Waitin
Mercy
The Line
Heart + Soul
Open Invitation

Just another Tuesday night at Thee Parkside

Rumor had it that Robyn Hitchcock was playing with the Minus 5...alas he did not show, but Peter Buck was there! Okay, maybe that's not so exciting, as he does play bass with the Minus 5.

At any rate, we got there early. Really early, actually. So early, in fact, that we didn't pay cover. I'm not sure if that makes us smart and frugal, or just a bunch of losers. I'm leaning toward smart and frugal.

Being that early did have its pluses...while standing outside having a square a cab pulled up. Out got some older guy. He looked a little weird. And I was totally fixated on his shoes, which were kinda like desert boots/mocassins/birkenstocks. And he was wearing leather pants.

It was Peter Buck! The last time I saw him was in 1991 -- and I watched him get out of a cab that night, too! Trippy! We had at least a dozen opportunities to talk to him:

- He'd leave his spot at the bar and walk past us.
- We'd discuss what we would say, like, "What time are you guys going on?"
- Then he'd walk back, and we'd get really quiet and pretend we weren't looking at him.

Hmmm...okay, now I'm leaning toward bunch of losers.

Check out umlaut's review. There were quite a lot of people there by the time the band went on, including The Phenomenauts.

But it's a shame that no one shouted out, "Driver 8!" or "Hyena!"

What to do on President's Day...

Fish tacos, Crate & Barrel, and then...
hit the record store!

Soccer Generations

My father, Ilija Vuckovich, right side, hand on his hip.
The guy in the suit is the Prince of Yugoslavia.
1966

Me, age 15
1985


Eli John Vuckovich, age 3
2005


Me and Mia Claire Vuckovich, age 6
2005

Now I Wanna Be Your Dog

Happy Chinese New Year!

It's the year of the Dog. So, for those of us born in 1922, 1934, 1946, 1958, 1970, 1982, 1994, and 2006, it's our year. (Betcha didn't know that I was born in 1922.)

People born in the Year of the Dog possess the best traits of human nature. They have a deep sense of loyalty and are honest. Cautious and serious regarding love, the Dog needs a trustworthy partner who has strong family sympathies, and appreciates their tenderhearted virtues. But Dog People are somewhat selfish, terribly stubborn, and eccentric. They care little for wealth, yet somehow always seem to have money. They can be cold emotionally and sometimes distant at parties. They can find fault with many things and are noted for their sharp tongues. Dog people make good leaders. They are compatible with those born in the Years of the Horse, Tiger, and Rabbit.

Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy!

Jimmy Page is 62 today.

Almost every rock guitarist from the late '60s to the present day has been influenced by Page. He was a session musician on numerous great 60's songs like Donovan's Hurdy Gurdy Man and The Who's I Can't Explain.

In 1966 he joined the Yardbirds and he and Jeff Beck created a dueling guitar sound.

When the Yardbirds split in 1968 they still had shows to play in Europe, so Jimmy put together a band called The New Yardbirds. In that lineup was fellow session musician John Paul Jones and newcomers Robert Plant and John Bonham. After the tour the band's name was changed to Led Zeppelin...and the rest is history.

Bingo Hand Job (a.k.a. REM), London 1991

First of all...and this is kinda weird...I was doing some research on the web about this show when I found this: http://ticketstubs.metafilter.com/story.stub/72 I haven't been in touch with Sid since 1991! Sometimes, I love the internet - especially when you run into old friends.

I gave Michael Stipe a fork...but I'll get to that later.
I studied in London '90-'91. I heard about the show while I was in the photo lab at school. A couple of people had been at the Borderline the previous night and heard that REM was playing a secret gig. The plan was that I would go and try to get tickets and my friends would meet me there later.

I cut class, hopped the Tube, and headed to the Borderline. I got there at about 1:00 and met Sid and Scott, a couple of American guys who were also studying abroad. We sat outside all day...and at about 3:30 this limo pulled up. Out steps REM! I was speechless -- they were like, 5 feet away from me.

We didn't have tickets, and we didn't want to lose our spots in the queue, but we were getting hungry. There was a BBQ place a few doors down. Someone went and ordered food, and I remember that a waiter brought our order out to us. The coleslaw was good. They gave us actual utensils, and I kept two forks. Sid and Scott and I rubbed them for good luck, hoping that we'd get into the show. I took the hand-written sign that was posted as a souvenir in case we didn't get in (see image).

And as luck would have it, we were able to scalp tickets for 40 pounds each (that was about $80 American dollars), but we got in, and we were right up front. Sid's posting has some good memories, and I recall that they messed up on Radio Song. Definitely one of the best shows I've ever seen.

Afterward we met Michael Stipe and I gave him one of the forks (I kept its partner for a long time, but I've since lost it). I think I said something like, "this fork brought us good luck, so I hope it brings you good luck, too." He probably thought that we were a bit crazy.

I still have my Bingo Hand Job concert shirt -- it's yellowed with age, but I'll never part with it.

Umlaut's mix

"Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aide! Goethe said that. It's not too late for you to become a person of substance..."

This personalized Umlaut compilation was on my desk this morning when I came to work:

13-4-2-Day
1. Poprocks and Coke - Green Day
2. Waiting Room - Fugazi
3. Sign of the Gypsy Queen - April Wine
4. Another Shot of Whiskey - The Gits
5. Litany (Life Goes On) - Guadalcanal Diary
6. Don't Take Me For Granted - Social Distortion
7. Surrender - Cheap Trick
8. Mr. Tambourine Man - The Byrds
9. Do It Clean - Echo & The Bunnymen
10. The World's A Mess, It's In My Kiss - X
11. It Won't Last - Vue
12. A Bell Will Ring - Oasis
13. We're Not Gonna Take It>See Me Feel Me - The Who

"...what kind of beer?"

George Best

George Best
1946-2005

From the BBC:

Best was a footballing genius. He had speed, superb dribbling skills, the ability to accelerate past players and was adept with both feet. He is widely regarded as one of the greatest players to have graced the British game.

Together with Denis Law and Bobby Charlton, Best formed a triumvirate that inspired Manchester United to League Championships in 1965 and 1967 and the European Cup in 1968. In that year, he picked up the English and European footballer of the year awards.

His heyday occurred during the "swinging sixties", and, with his good looks, he brought a pop star image to the game for the first time. But the accompanying champagne and playboy lifestyle degenerated into alcoholism, bankruptcy, a prison sentence and, eventually, a liver transplant.

George Best will be most fondly remembered for his sublime footballing skills, his balletic grace and his sinewy athleticism. But he wrote his own epitaph when he once said: "I was the one who took football off the back pages and put it on to page one."

Fans email the BBC with their stories about meeting Best.

Happy Birthday Harpo

He played the harp, he never talked, and he used props in sight gags. While shooting one of the Marx Brothers films, he was told that he could not burn a candle at both ends.

But he immediately produced, from within his coat, a candle burning at both ends.

Honk, honk!

Thanks to Pierce for the reminder.

Link Wray

Link Wray
1929 - 2005

My friend Garret told me this great story that he once heard...Apparently, Link used to play at this bar in Texas quite a lot. One of the bar's regulars was a complete drunk, and he absolutely hated Run Chicken Run. So whever Link would play that song, this guy would get so irate that he'd throw his barstool through the bar's front window.

But Link kept playing the song anyway...