Frank Gutch Jr: My Morbid Yet Sanguine World

Someone once told me I was eccentric.  I laughed out loud because I am the least eccentric of any people I know.  I am, in fact, so normal and middle-of-the-road that I occasionally label myself boring.  I am.  Boring, that is.  I am a puddle of mediocrity in a pool of ordinary.  The jack of all trades and master of none.  Neither the dimmest bulb nor the brightest.  Plain yogurt.  A one dollar bill.  I am as exciting as baseball in the off-season and Christmas in July.  I have been the second choice of too many girls to recount (Gosh, Frank, if it wasn’t for— insert name here— it would be you) and the tenth choice on a team of nine.  I write because I have no other talent.  I am the sponge which lives vicariously.  Even the kids who love me abandon me when they are old enough to realize…

Frank Gutch Jr: OMIGOD!!! I Just Looked in a Mirror! I Think I’m Trans-Canadian! Plus Notes…..

You know!  Like Kafka’s cockroach!  I think it was always there but I was too close to see it.  I should have known it, though.  As a child, I loved maple syrup!  Of all my dad’s records, my favorites were by Hank Snow and Montana Slim!  (I thought Slim was from Montana— can I sue for misinformation?)  My favorite train ads besides those of the Great Northern were those of the TransCanada Railway!  For the last few years, I have use “eh?” as a punctuation mark.  Canada was the home of my dad’s favorite whiskys:  Corby’s Park Lane and Crown Royal.

Frank Gutch Jr: We’re Missing Too Much, You and Me (a look at music already slipping into the past), Plus Notes To Knock Your Socks Off…..

This past week I am working on two big articles, this column and have a stack of reviews waiting to be written and am wondering where I can find the time.  I need a good 48 hours in a day to even think about keeping up, but if they gave them to me I would more than likely use them napping or watching Howard Stern  make a judging ass out of himself on network TV  (No, I wouldn’t.  I hated him when he was doing his radio and TV shows.  After watching him embarrass himself brown-nosing some poor schlep who was lucky enough to make it to the end of some lame circus act of song or dance, it reinforced my initial judgment.