Month: April 2017

It’s Superband!

It is very true! From akronlife.com:

[Luigi’s Restaurant owner Tony Ciriello] was just a kid in the ‘70s when his uncle Mickey Ciriello rescued the broken-down band from storage…The restaurant’s electrician, Butch Pastik, did the rewiring and a repairman at an old jukebox warehouse in Cleveland got the mechanical parts working again. Then Mickey and some friends began looking for characters to replace the old foam band members – brittle and crumbling from dry rot.

After discovering that Ken dolls and GI Joes didn’t work in the bandbox, Mickey settled on some 8-inch action figure Superman dolls. They were just the right size, and their arms were flexible enough to be posed with the musical instruments. Then he decided to swap out the male lead singer for a more glamorous blond Barbie…Mickey hired a local seamstress to create tuxedos for the band and created mop-top wigs for their heads…

For now, a new Barbie doll has replaced the ‘70s lead singer, but the male band members from the first restoration live on. One has been wearing a Superman suit under his tuxedo for all these years. In the tradition of protecting Clark Kent’s real identity, Tony won’t say which one is the true Man of Steel.

Wishing everyone a peaceful and blessed Easter! TFH

★★★★★

“You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.”
― Saul Bellow

Nope, but you do have to be able to read what you wrote the morning after. You’ll remember Les as the guy who a week (and ten years) ago showed up in Crankshaft to pooh-pooh the creative techniques of his fellow writers at a book festival. Please tell me how jotting down ideas that come to you in your sleep differs at all from “I go to sleep and allow my dreams to write my book for me.”

The “Notte” Book

The winner of our 7th Anniversary contest is Epicus Doomus, who gets a mug from the official Funky Winkerbean CafePress store. Thanks to everyone who participated!

We frequently take Mr. Batiuk to task for his “tell, don’t show” proclivities, but we’ll gladly give him a pass today for having fast-forwarded through Les and Cayla making whoopee. That is, if any whoopee was made: we find the Moores not blissfully spooning, but rather with their backs to one another (the accepted sleeping posture for couples in the Funkiverse). Les has started awake, and though he’s made no sound, Cayla’s aware of this. She’s either a very light sleeper or has been lying there fuming since Les conked out.

In Soviet Russia, the Sack Hits You!

Cayla’s definitely put something in Les’ hot cocoa, but instead of lethal poison (our choice), mayhap she’s slipped in a little sumpin’ sumpin’ that will put some lead in Les’ stubby little pencil. Have we ever seen Les be the one to initiate a romantic encounter, with Cayla or any of the women who’ve fought over his writer ass? At least this time Cayla doesn’t have to take Les by the hand and drag him up the stairs.

That’s Good! No, That’s Bad!

Along with his cloying false modestly, Les’ other key character trait is his fear of success. He forgets that time in his writing career when the only news he got from publishers came in the form of rejection letters. And it was only last month that Les couldn’t produce more than one sentence until Darin showed up to reminisce with Les about “Mom.” Inspired, Les squeezed out the literary equivalent of a stool sample which he sent off to the lab the publisher. Naturally the publisher loved it and wanted more, meaning—horrors!— that Les would be forced to continue working on what he considers his life’s passion.