Well, your old uncle Byron is not getting over this stupid ear infection any time soon. Seems I will now have to have some sort of outpatient procedure to clear the fluids in both my inner ears. Fun! To say the least, the constant dizzy spells and pain slows you down, and I’m slow enough being 65 years old. I will posts updates as I have it about my health. In the meantime, as I have a page sketched up enough to be presentable, I’ll post them here. They are being completed (just scroll back through if you haven’t lately) but I’m doing them as I am able to tolerate staring at a computer screen.
Lots of hints and nods in this one today. The “CafΓ© AmΓ©ricain” is the name of the bar in the film “Casablanca.” And Casablanca was a record company in the 1970’s that brought us a little old group called KISS. So I named the record label in New York after the bar in “Casablanca.” And a nice nod to the reason why Jarts (lawn darts) were banned as people were getting hurt or killed from being hit by the large, pointy, metal darts. And the pickle in a bag is straight from “Nick Danger,” as Rocky Rococo has a bag with a pickle in it. Why? The Firesign Theater was on cocaine or something when they wrote the bit, that’s why.
So the gang is off to New York city to do untold damage. Stay tuned as the band will be hitting the road very soon.
How about a little Boston singing about how they got signed to their record contract? Sure, why not.
Seems there are some questions about who Rocky Rococo is and why the reference to a pickle in this comic. To bring you up to speed, Rocky Rococo is a character from a comedy bit recorded by the Firesign Theater in 1969 called “The Further Adventures of Nick Danger” where the title character is a play on private detectives from movies in the ’40s and ’50s. Here is the portion of the script that I am referring to in today’s comic. It comes in rather early in the original recording at just past the one minute mark.
NICK: “Let’s get down to business… It all began innocently enough on Tuesday. I was sitting in my office on that drizzly afternoon listening to the monotonous staccato of rain on my desktop and reading my name on the glass of my office door. “Regnad Kcin.” My secretary lay snoring on the floor, her long, beautiful gams pinioned under the couch. I didn’t hear him enter, but my nostrils flared at the smell of his perfume… Pyramid Patchouli. There was only one joker in L.A. sensitive enough to wear that scent and I had to find out who he was.”
ROCKY: “Good afternoon, Mr. … Danger. I’m Rocky Rococo.”
NICK: “Thanks half-pint. You just saved me a lot of investigative work.”
ROCKY: “Maybe yes, maybe no… Do you know what (rustle of bag) this is?”
NICK: (thinking) “I had to think for a minute. What cool game was he playing?”
NICK: (speaking) “Uh, that’s a brown paper bag.”
ROCKY: “That’s correct, now look inside, Mr. Danger. What do you see?”
NICK: “That’s easy. That’s a pickle.”
ROCKY: “Very good…”
If you have 28 minutes… yes, 28 minutes… the complete bit is up on YouTube.
My wife remembers her cousin getting a Jart through his hand when he thought he could catch it during a family picnic. hope you get better!
OW! A Jart in the hand! Makes my ear aches seem trivial. I hope I get better soon too.
Whn I was in the military, a common ‘game’ was to hold your hand on the dartboard with your fingers spread around the bullseye and take turns throwing…the dilemma over choosing to aim for the bull (for a beer) or taking revenge for your buddy missing was a powerful one.
I’m not that good of an aim, so I’d more than likely hit someone’s hand. π
Yeah, that happened a lot…sometimes even by accident
And sometimes you had ‘help’ π
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ws0dZEcbBWs
Unusual lunch choices aside, if Rocky Rococo can get these zeebs an album deal, he must be very good at his job. I know labels at the time were just throwing manure at the wall to see if any of it stuck, but Mr. Rococo knows the quality of this manure and he still got them a break.
Quality manure is hard to find! And yes, seems record companies back then would try and find the next “hip” thing and try to turn it into a million bucks. Most of the time they were just utter flops.
I remember having lawn darts, the original ones, as a kid.
My brother and I sharpened them…
But all that aside, what’s the significance of the pickle ? π
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfdwzwgirDQ
Arlo Guthrie! Haven’t heard that track in a LONG time! “I don’t want a pickle…” π
One of my favourite “break time !!” tunes π
We had lawn darts, and regular darts too. One day I threw a dart and it missed the board and landed in my brother’s leg. That is the last we saw of any darts.
It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye… or gets stabbed in the leg. π
Nobody got ‘hurt’ hurt with them when we threw them although I came pretty close throwing them straight up to see how high they could go and losing one in the sun…
Funny thing is, we knew about ‘war darts’ and practiced that more than playing a game for score π
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EFAVGIylqE
At least you didn’t break your leg I did and it took 93 days to walk again. I can do all the stuff I did before hand even skate and wear high heels. Cleaver how you used the Casablanca reference with Cafe American. Rocky probably envy’s Allen Fred, Teddy Rigg, Phil Spector and Malcolm Mc Loren they seem to have bands that don’t fail their gigs. If he loses his marbles like Mrs Goodman plan 9 was their. As for Mrs Goodman she only lost her marbles and not stuck in a coma or dead. Who ever Mc Kenna is he or she has their work cut out managing plan 9 with $1000 for transport, food, lodging or anything else. Maybe go Amtrac or Greyhound, stuff them in a Van like UPS. Incidentally they should hire women or at least men who can pull off hot pants and ankle high boots the cargo shorts have got to go only going naked is worse. Then again fly them on flying tiger cargo liners motto “It’s on time or it’s on us.” to New York. The plane could even be flown by a crazy veteran French from the first Indochina war ” You will pay you little bastards.” or an American from Vietnam war “What is your malfunction pinko commies.” Plan 9 could run into doctor Demento or wolfman Jack at a radio station the wolfman being neutered. Jack still howls, humps but with an pink electro shock caller which matches his bow, doggie booties and tutu won’t pooh in shoes and grawls at vets remind him of his lost loins. If they use a van they could run into a Rudy Starr look a like servicing the van. She is famous for singing with Black oak Arkansas and her own grey ghost band songs like whisky burn in 1975.
I remember Ruby Starr and Black Oak Arkansas!
McKenna is Robyn’s last name. I should have made some sort of reference to that as I forget most readers don’t know the character’s full names.
The gang will be traveling by van, so you have that part right! I have some cameos by some up-and-coming performers hanging out in New York City in 1977 here fairly soon.
I was thinking wouldn’t be funny if Jeff earned extra money by joining the bald near naked cowboys kind of like Doug Clarke’s hot nuts. Instead of naked rock band at a frat house great for a band like Plan 9 incidentally. They are bald gay cowboys wearing pink g strings and/or jock straps with matching tiny hats glued to their heads and cowboy boots line dancing to country and southern rock music. Maybe Bud could join as another line dancer or as Buddet dressed as Miss Kitty from gun smoke to MC the show. At least Lorraine and Robyn even Buddet could have some fun Jeff is endowed so he’d be what they are looking for. You know your band is non so great when ill tempered Robyn is more responsible than the rest of the three in the band I’d pick Lorraine.
Are “Cafe American Records” a division of Warner Brothers?
Wasn’t everything back then?
i found a set of lawn darts in a seedy 2nd-hand store in DeKalb, IL for fifty cents!
Seedy and second-hand describes DeKalb, Illinois, perfectly. π
For those in DeKalb, I’m kidding… slightly. π
some great music came out of DeKalb in the ’90s! unfortunately, most of it didn’t come out very far!
Grew up playing with yard darts, was just fine.
People with common sense could play with Jarts just fine. It was in the hands of hyper-active kids like me who had a wild imagination that Jarts become weapons of mass destruction. I was a terror in gym shoes back in the day.
Pitching the sharpened ones against the outhouse wall at the cottage was one thing..having one poke through a crack between the boards when our father was inside…different story altogether…he chewed us out for not being able to throw hard enough to put one through the middle of a board then sharpened them better for us π
Great to see new artwork. Looking forward to custom bad craziness in NYC!
Hope you feel better soon, Byron.