Debris Magazine, the BigSoccer format

[Footix]

When I put the call out here a few months ago to see if anyone was interested in contributing to a printed fanzine, I was encouraged by the number of people who volunteered to do a great number of interesting things.

Sadly, about 2/3's of those proposals never showed up, and rather than put out a tiny version of what was hoped to be, I aborted the project. However, since much of the stuff that did show up was pretty damn good, I'm gonna post it in this thread, because these people deserve to have their hard work seen somewhere.

Lesson learned? Most people on internet boards are full of bologna, but the good ones are gems.

Props again to those that contributed and kept promises. Special thanks to Serg for his design ideas and webpage design, though we never really got that far.

[Footix]

MUSIC REVIEWS:

Paul Weller – Studio 150 (V2)



Seemingly resigned to never achieving the worldwide respect that he clearly deserves, Mr. Weller (to you) has now gone in the studio and recorded an album of cover tunes. While this should provide an outlet for this human jukebox to turn us onto some rare funk and soul tracks that every mod will soon start name checking, we’re instead treated to sub-par recordings that, quite honestly, wouldn’t make it past the demo stage during sessions for his brilliant past albums like Heavy Soul or Wild Wood, or even recent underappreciated works like Heliocentric or Illumination. While tracks like The Bottle and One Way Round work when treated with the trademark Weller sound, his embarrassingly bad Close To You (yes, the Carpenters, I swear to God) and instantly forgettable All Along The Watchtower (is there anything left to do with this song??) will have you wondering why this release even occurred to him, especially after the recent and excellent Fly On The Wall B-side collection had so many covers already.--Mark Crowder

[Footix]

Old 97's - Drag It Up


The new release from the Old 97’s, Drag It Up, should be footnoted in their catalog as a half hearted attempt to quiet the “Have you broken up?” questions I’m sure the band was sick of hearing. After a three year break as a band, during which time head man and principal song writer Rhett Miller put out a solo record, they tossed off this album on indie label New West Records. Regrettably, they would have done their fans and themselves a favor if they’d spent a little more time writing and culling songs before they put this one out. It comes off sounding like a collection of b-sides and studio rehearsals that should have been reserved for bonus tracks on a 25th anniversary release of Fight Songs or Too Far to Care.

There were signs this one might be better left in the bin. For example, lead guitarist Ken Bethea writes on the www.old97s.com that they finally grew into the song Valium Waltz after several years of trying it out. So a many times rejected song makes the cut this time around. Band members describe this as their most personal record to date. Translate – this record is filled with a bunch of dull, slow tempo numbers. Finally, all of the four band members are married now and three have reproduced. Domesticity is a great way to kill a rock music career.

So what do we have here? A couple of good tunes, a bunch of forgettable ones and a novelty track. Where’s the jealousy? What happened to the cheating and drinking? Oh well, let’s hope this is just a detour and they haven’t gone too far to care. --Nancy Bolin

[Footix]

LIVE REVIEW:

Nick Lowe at the Birchmere, Alexandria, VA. 9/26/04.

By Nancy Bolin


In one of my rock and roll fantasies, I can turn back time and see Nick Lowe in his prime, live and rocking with Rockpile. The club would be hot and smoky and I’d be standing at the foot of the stage, spying the set list and watching the sweat beading on his brow and soaking his thick mane of hair.

Switch back to reality. I’m sitting at a table in the prim and proper Birchmere in Alexandria, Va., surrounded by people with graying hair and spreading middles. I’m regretting that this is the first time I’ve managed to get to one his of live shows. There’s an acoustic guitar and a stool on the stage. There will be no rushing the stage tonight.



In a set lasting close to 90 minutes, Lowe concentrated on his “grownup” music, with sprinkles from his post-punk glory days. From his newer releases, “Has She Got a Friend” and “I Live on a Battlefield” were standouts. I also enjoyed “Lately I’ve Let Things Slide,” from The Convincer cd. There was, of course, “Cruel to Be Kind,” played early in the set to keep people from yelling for it all night. He covered John Hiatt’s “She Don’t Love Nobody” and brought his opening act, keyboard player Geraint Watkins, on for a gospel-infused boogie-woogie version of “I Knew the Bride.” Lowe closed the set with ”What’s So Funny About Peace Love and Understanding?”, a song that seems particularly appropriate in today’s world.

For an encore, Lowe played “Heart of the City” and ”The Beast in Me.” An older one and a newer one - bookends to an impressive song catalog. I’d been dubious about his later music, but now I’m a convert. I can live my fantasy in my living room, blasting Labour of Lust, and let the new Lowe bring me back to the reality of my life. But when he mentioned his address, I was quick to jot that down. Maybe it’s time for a new rock and roll fantasy.

[Footix]

FEATURE:

Brainknowledgeably Willsy:

Flava Flav vs. Bob Wills

‘How the mighty have fallen.’

by CJ Herrera

That’s what I keep hearing these days about Flavor Flav—or more specifically, about his deranged yet oddly endearing lust for Brigitte Nielsen, his co-star on “The Surreal Life.” It seems being arrested for domestic violence and attempted murder are one thing—but swimming in the Sly Stallone-sullied water that is a boozy Scandinavian giantess is quite another.



(And don’t tell me you don’t watch reality television because I don’t believe you. Now that Flav is lighting up “The Surreal Life” like a white-hot crack pipe, not watching that show has entered the realm of the impossible. Oh please, oh please, oh please – just gimme just one more scene before the commercial break.)



But all that hot Flav-on-Dane action got me thinking: Flav is still regarded as one of the greatest Hype Men in music history. Who could possibly challenge him for the title?



Hittin’ the History (don’tknowwhatIsaid) Books

It’s often said that modern day rappers are direct descendents of early Hype-Men (Microphonnus Masteri, or Cro-Brooklyn Man). These lost souls roamed the stage areas of early DJ parties and were there to simply pump up the crowd for the DJs. No more. No less.



Then one day they just wouldn’t shut up. And rap was born.



Hip hop elder and historian Kool Moe Dee claims that Flavor Flav is the lyrical grandson of Kid Creole, one of the Furious Five. “I call Creole the original Hype Man” claims the treacherous one, based on Creole’s impressive intros to Grandmaster Flash’s turntable sets. Others say Cowboy, also one of the Furious Five, actually invented such phrases “Throw your hands in the air, and wave em like you just don’t care” and “Everybody say ‘Ho.’” I know that sounds like inventing water or discovering America, but that’s the story and quite a few folks are sticking to it.



Today, of course, there seem to be albums released daily by entire crews of hype men. G-Unit, D12, Cash Money Morons, etc. Hip hop continues to take this concept to wholly new and ever-escalating levels of uselessness. Sort of like Donkey Kong, but without the catchy tunes.



So what is a true Hype Man?



While True That It Should Not Generally Be Taken as Truth,

It Is Okay to Believe Some Hype.

I’m defining a Hype Man as a band member whose main role is to do one or more of the following:

—Exhort the crowd or listener to fully enjoy the music on offer;

—Extol the virtues and virtuosity of the band; and/or

—Enhance the musical experience with verbal interjections and/or generally kooky behavior.



If you’ve read this far, I clearly don’t need to catalogue Flav’s expertise in all of these categories here. The only thing I will stress about Mr. William Drayton’s work is the word commitment: Every syllable—English, Flavian, or otherwise—was expelled out of his mouth with the same commitment that Chuck D. brought to his lyrics. One brought sanity, the other brought madness.





Yet hip hop did not invent the hype man. Oh no. Blues, jazz, rock, and yes, country and western, have all had their dubious share. Although once out of the realm of hip hop, there can be some confusion about who is and who is not a Hype Man.



For example, many musical greats have acted as their own Hype Men.

—Blues legends Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry would often offer each other advice and accolades as they traded guitar and harmonica riffs (“Blow Sonny” “That’s it Brownie” etc.). The same can be said of Muddy Waters and his sideman Little Walter and countless others.

—No thing or being could ever extol the virtues of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion better than Jon Spencer himself and his meta-hypetacular “lyrics” (largely comprised of the words “Jon” “Spencer” “Blues” and “Explosion” with the occasional “Your girlfriend still loves me” thrown in).

—And the vocal be-bop freakouts that Dizzy Gillespie could toss off in between cataclysmic trumpet solos are as yet unrivaled in intensity or insanity (“Oooliya Ku! OOOLIYA KU!” Parse that, mofos) .



While all very accomplished in their hyping abilities, hyping is not the main role of any of these fine, fine people. Thus, these men are disqualified.



Then there is a band like Fishbone, the 80s ska/funk band, that—much like the above mentioned crews—was apparently comprised entirely of Hype Men, most of them wearing hats. As above, the less said here the better.



Sidetrack No. 1: Ska

Speaking of Fishbone, the first English ska revival of the late 70s/early 80 deserves special mention here as the big three of the Two Tone movement—The Specials, The Beat and Madness—all had variations on the Hype Man.



Madness certainly had one of the purest Hype Men ever in Chas Smash, a dude who jumped on stage during a gig and literally danced his way into the band. Smash can be heard delivering the “nutty credo” intro to the first Madness album (“Hey You! Don’t watch that . . .”) Rumor has it he eventually he started playing instruments, but that’s far from relevant here. What is relevant is that he was largely uninteresting and honestly didn’t contribute a whole lot other than comic relief.



The Beat had Ranking Roger, who also initially sat in on a gig then found himself part of the band. Roger has major hype credentials as he ran around like an unstoppable madman during gigs, wailing on a cowbell or any other percussive object he could find. He also punctuated the Beat’s songs with your standard Jamaican patois grunts and hiccups copped from old school ska veterans like U Roy, Papa Michigan and General Smiley, et al. However he was a passable toaster and he could also sing fairly well, frequently sharing lead vocals. Both of these facts subtract significantly from his completely fictional Hype Quotient.



The Specials had Neville Staples, but most of his vocals were actually integral to the stories of the songs. He did, however, provide great intros, and work crowds up into ever escalating mod frenzies. And then there is his judge persona on “Stupid Marriage,” the classic ‘Bernie Rhodes knows: Don’t Argue!’ shouts from “Gangsters,” and other assorted yelps and snorts (“Pass Me a Beer! Pass Me a Beer! Pass Me a Beer!”).



Sidetrack No. 2: Suck

Now is as good a time as any to mention the two worst Hype Men in music history: Einar Orn Benediktsson and Sean Combs.



Einar Orn Benediktsson.

Also known as the guy who ruined The Sugarcubes, Einar Orn Benediktsson now simply goes by the name Einar Orn (a name which sounds like a choice—the response to which forever shall be “Neither, thankyouverymuch”).



A potentially great pop band from Iceland, the Sugarcubes were actually part of an art scene, or ayrt sgkeihn as they in Iceland. As such, creating simply great pop songs was verbotten, or viirvhuetten as they say in Iceland. Thus the majority of lovely musical nuggets on Sugarcubes records were ruined, or Orned as they say in Iceland, by the rubber room howlings of dear Einar.



In between the compelling vocals of Bjork Gudmundsdottir, Orn would atonally shriek lines such as “That girl on that bicycle showed great interest in all the motor crashes / I make my winter dwelling and crush my bones.” Or here’s another classic, spat his patented dictator’s balcony delivery: “My punctuality is well known: When the revolution takes place, I’ll be late and be shot as a traitor.” Oh, Einar. If only.



As you’re listening to these records, it sounds like Orn is just enraged at how good the songs are—and thus he must destroy them and the band. And I would contend that Orn’s ornings did in fact hasten the demise of the Sugarcubes. Now depending on your opinion of Bjork’s solo work, this could be taken as a plus or a minus. It certainly gave Bjork more time to hang around toilets in European discotheques and record Debut.



Frankly, as I transcribe these outbursts they suddenly read much, much more interesting than they could ever sound on record. For example in the song “Regina,” Orn interjects: “I really don’t like lobster!” OK, that’s funny.



But don’t be fooled. The dude blows. Case closed.



Sean Combs.

The contempt and disdain I have for Mr. Sean Combs is gargantuan. Much like MC Hammer, who built a career on wholesale theft and sideshow buffoonery, Combs is a talentless leech sucking the joy and creativity from the work of others. Extra points for those others being his dead friends.



Combs was simply a better thief than Hammer and clearly has a much, much better accountant. Maybe he’s a good producer, hard to say. Mostly because I don’t want to. But as for “his own” records, there is nothing to be said. Which brings us to his inclusion: His recording career was launched by his forcing his way on the recordings and in the videos of others. He was the ubiquitous Hype Man, jauntily rearranging his shoulder blades, knowingly pointing to his jewelry and repeatedly saying “Yeah” and “Bad Boy.” That’s pretty much it. So why not make a record?



He may be a snappy dresser, but that shan’t save him from the eternal lakes of liquid fire.



The Great Contender: Bob Wills

So who can challenge Flav? While some may think it’s Digital Underground’s Humpty Hump, or the mirror-toting Jerome from The Time (strong contenders, to be sure) the answer is Western Swing legend Bob Wills.



Bob Wills should immediately be disqualified because he was a band leader. It was, after all Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. But I’m writing this and I say Wills is in a dead heat with Flavor Flav.



Much has been written about the greatness and pioneering nature of the Texas Playboys. How they brought some joy to Depression era America, how they musically predicted rock n’ roll, how they brought blues and jazz into country music, and how mightily they rocked. It’s all true. If you don’t have any, go buy some and get it over with.



A huge part of that joy was Bob Wills himself. Much like Flav, Wills just couldn’t shut up. But also like Flav, his timing was impeccable. It was his band, so he could do whatever he wanted, but Wills never detracted from the Playboys vocalists, such as Tommy Duncan. His flow, as it were, was perfect—complementing the verse, setting up the chorus, and highlighting the band.



Also like Flavor, Wills seemed to have conservations completely unto himself (“Are ya having a good time—of course you are...”) He was like Popeye the Cowboy Man, constantly muttering asides simply to amuse himself (“Round and round and round it goes; Where it stops, nobody . . . .cares! . . . Fooled ya.”) You hear his hillbilly calls (“Aaaa-Haaaa’s”) and you suddenly know where Buddy Ebsen got his schtick.



His name checks during instrumentals, were also pure jazz boosterism, name checking with gusto each and every band member as they took their solo (“On Mandolin, the smallest instrument in the world…Tiny Moore”). He also seemed to hire musicians solely based on how interesting their names would sound yelled mid-song: Kelso! Tubby! Eldon Junior! Punkin! Uncle John! Smokey! Skeeter! Billy Jack!



So there you have it: Flavor Flav and Bob Wills. The greatest Hype Men in the history of recorded music. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have Too. Too. Too Much Posse to attend to.

[Footix]

MORE RECORD REVIEWS:

Mark Lanegan Band – Bubblegum (Beggars Banquet)
Without a doubt the most incestuous record this year and probably in recent history. Reading the credits remind me of being out barhopping in my hometown; I can't find any place to lift a pint without seeing someone I know. After banging around in bands for a decade (and seemingly releasing several solo records as an afterthought)
Lanegan finally finds his own voice. To do so, he enlists plenty of help from his friends. PJ Harvey helps with a driving, dark duet on "Hit the City", and other guest appearances include Izzy Stradlin, Troy Van Leeuwen (Failure, A Perfect Circle) Josh Homme, Nick Oleveri, Dave Catching (Kyuss, Queens of the Stoneage) and plenty of others Then take note that the record was recorded by Brian Baker (Bad Religion, Minor Threat) and Chris Goss (producer of QotSa and Homme's subsequent Desert Sessions series). Ultimately what the listener finds is an extension and a step forward of the Desert Sessions, from some of the same faces. We get bluesy, throaty renditions of songs in which Lanegan pours his heart onto the sheet music (When Your Number Isn’t Up, One Hundred Days, Strange Religion), then are treated to 80mph, drugged out stormers (Sideways In Reverse, Driving Death Valley Blues), and then back to dark acoustic folk music (Out of Nowhere). One can’t come away from this record without feeling like Lanegan battled all his demons and found his redemption through the course of these 15 tracks. --Jace Hentges

The Arcade Fire – Funeral (Merge)
Judging by the overwhelming response from hipsters and the complete lack of copies of this record in stores (at least at the seemingly less important Midwest Indies) this record has elicited the greatest hype of the year. And unlike most of the hyped Indie records of recent years, this one seems as if it is actually worth it. Brainchild of a husband-wife singer/songwriters team, The Arcade Fire are an amalgam of layered sounds and hooks, and “Funeral” is an album focused quite well on deaths and subsequent remembrance. And what is found within is devoid of trite lyrics and **************** emotion. This record ultimately feels cleansing in its honesty, and the swirling sounds and strings, mixed with Win Butler’s hoary and fervid vocals, and steady beats and hooks lend themselves to a work that all involved should be very proud of. --Jace Hentges

[Claymore]

Sweet Jesus, the Modfather is doing a cover of a Carpenters tune???

I feel ill.

[Footix]

LIVE REVIEW:

Franz Ferdinand - Roseland Ballroom, October 2nd

They say that they only work when they need the money, but if that?s the case then Franz Ferdinand have been living well during their extended New York holiday. The final show of their North American fall tour was their eighth in the NYC area in the past twelve months. They've come a long way from The Coral Room and Maxwell's...a gold record in the US, top ten hits in the UK, revelatory sets at Glastonbury and Reading, the 2004 Mercury Prize, and a gaggle of rock critics falling over themselves to declare them the Greatest Band In The History Of The World.

The most recent NYC show, their second at 3,000-capacity Roseland in a month, was a 14-song, 60-minute set that blazed through their limited repertoire with brutal efficiency. The songs remain better than most anything released this year, especially the sexually-charged "Michael" (where the line "Come and dance with me" was replaced with "Come all over me", sending both girls and boys into a frenzy), but the DIY attitude and sense of genuine awe at their lucky predicament that punctuated their Glasto and previous New York appearances has been replaced by a flashy light show and cool detachment. By the time they blazed through "This Fire" as the second and final encore, they had run out of material before the club kids had barely broken a sweat. --Scott Oberstadt

[Footix]

RECORD REVIEW:

R.L. Burnside: A Bothered Mind

R.L. Burnside, one of the reigning patriarchs of Mississippi blues is getting on up there in years…78 years to be exact. Word has it R.L. doesn’t get around too well anymore…and that’s understandable, he’s past the three-quarter century mark. Musically, that means he isn’t cranking out new product too often these days. I’m sure that’s why this is the second album of R.L. remixes to be released in 6 year’s time. The first one, 1998’s Come On In was rawer and more energetic.

A Bothered Mind is a fun album at times, but pales in comparison to the energy Burnside’s original material. It features guest artists Lyrics Born on a few tracks and even Detroit’s very own Kid Rock on “My Name is Robert Too.” The re-worked renditions of Burnside standards “Shake ‘Em On Down” and “Going Down South” don’t translate well into slicker, electronic territory.

Stranger still is the inclusion of a few untouched numbers, one of them (“Bird Without a Feather”), a solo acoustic tune recorded in 1968. A few interesting, rawer tunes surface at the end “Rollin’ and Tumblin’” and “Stole My Check.” Overall, this one is probably left for Burnside completists (the same goes for Come On In.) However, the R.L. neophytes out there should definitely look into his original material…both acoustic and electric. --Joel Gamble

[Footix]

DVD TOMB REVIEW:

The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe (1954 / Color / 1:37 flat full frame / 90 min.)

The secret life of Luis Buñuel



Between the early surrealist experiments (Un chien andalou, L’Age d’or) and the post-1960 Continental co-productions (Belle de jour, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie) for which he is best known, Luis Buñuel spent 28 years in the wilderness. At least that’s the rumor spread among the art film connoisseurs who can find no trace of his whereabouts between 1933 and 1961 on DVD or in repertory cinemas.



Buñuel has long been held up by cineastes as a romantic example of how great the film artist can be when not oppressed by state censorship or studio-enforced mainstreaming. The dirty little secret is that everything Buñuel knew about the cinema, he learned during those 28 “lost” years, first making World War II propaganda films for the U.S. Armed Forces and then a series of quickie B-genre films in the Mexican studio system during the 1950s. They are arguably the greatest works he ever produced.



VCI’s DVD of The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe (1954) marks the first step in reclaiming Buñuel’s reputation from the artfilm romantics. Produced in the Mexico studio system and based on the famous novel, his first color production and only English-language film is a garish conflagration, torching together the Hollywood adventure epic with a Marxist sensibility. The result is one of the most unique products in movie history. And lest we forget personal statements can’t be forged in a studio system – Crusoe spent 28 years in the wilderness, too. --John Luke

[Footix]

LIVE REVIEW:

edeski, Martin & Wood: End of the World Party (Just in Case)

For the first time in a decade or so, Medeski Martin & Wood have put an album out I’m telling people they have to buy. Not that the roughly have dozen in the interim aren’t worth owning, but at times the complexity of the music often obfuscated the enjoyment of it.

From the opening notes of “Anonymous Skulls” it was obvious this is an album worth proselytizing over. The music definitely wears the imprint of its producer, John King of the Dust Brothers (Beck, Beastie Boys). At the same time however, it remains distinctly Medeski, Martin & Wood too.

Jazz traditionalists typically eschew the music of MMW and this record certainly isn’t going to change their mind, but they should be grateful as the trio serves as a gateway drug to outsiders into more mainstream jazz. Despite the knob tweaking of King (who is credited as a musician on the album playing “a little of this, a little of that”), this is still a jazz trio record with a few extra bells & whistles.

This is a jazz record that holds onto tradition while embracing the future. A record that jazz geeks and electronica geeks can both embrace. It is equally at home in the concert hall and on the dance floor. --Joel Gamble

[Footix]

Good stuff so far, right? I'll post more tomorrow.

Apologies to the writers for my posting some of this stuff unedited.

[skipshady]

The Arcade Fire – Funeral (Merge)I was wondering how they got huge all of a sudden and was about to start a thread.

Footix - I'm wondering why you wanted to do a print 'zine. It seems you have enough people who are knowledgable and can write well enough to make it work - did you ever consider doing it as a blog? With a small writing staff/network of contributors, the flexibility of the medium seems to make it perfect for what you want to do.

Even if you do a paid service like Typepad, the cost would probably be lower than distributing print 'zine, and if you get picked up by more influential bloggers like Coolfer or (to a lesser extent) brooklynvegan, you could reach a decent number of people.

[655321]

All great stuff...

[obie]

You can't have a discussion of Hype Men without mentioning Bez. The Bez / Mondays analogy has been scientifically proven as:

Bez : Shawn :: Flav : Chuck

Bez simply made Shawn better. Bez made Mondays better, with no discernable talent whatsoever.

Or, what about Maxim Reality? Though you could make a case that even Keith Flint was in effect a hype man himself, though Maxim fit the mold better. "Psychosomatic addict insane! Inhale, inhale, you are the victim!" I mean, that's some great hype lyrics there...

[Footix]

I was wondering how they got huge all of a sudden and was about to start a thread.

Footix - I'm wondering why you wanted to do a print 'zine. It seems you have enough people who are knowledgable and can write well enough to make it work - did you ever consider doing it as a blog? With a small writing staff/network of contributors, the flexibility of the medium seems to make it perfect for what you want to do.

Even if you do a paid service like Typepad, the cost would probably be lower than distributing print 'zine, and if you get picked up by more influential bloggers like Coolfer or (to a lesser extent) brooklynvegan, you could reach a decent number of people.

Wanted to do print strictly out of love for the format. Old guys like me remember how much fun it was to pickup a copy of some obscure 'zine near the door of a record store or dive club and discover someone else's opinions while riding the subway home.

I really didn't want to make it a huge project with a timely release schedule, just an occasional copy when enough stuff was ready to fill 16 pages or so. I also wanted to do it totally outside of the music industry stuff I already am involved in, involving non-industry types. I think the stuff posted above proves that "real" reviews are so much different than stuff reviewed by people who do it for a living.

I'm bummed enough about the unkept promises not to be too excited to do another one anytime soon, not to mention my swampedness at work, but if anyone here wants to take what little concept is here and turn it into a blog or some other webby thing, have at it, and I'll give a hand where I can. I'll even redirect "debrismagazine.com" to it.

BTW, I love and read BrooklynVegan daily. She seems very cool.

[nicodemus]

I was wondering what happened to that stuff. Oh well, it's a shame more people didn't turn their stuff in, it was fun. :)

Thanks for the idea Footix!

[skipshady]

Wanted to do print strictly out of love for the format. Old guys like me remember how much fun it was to pickup a copy of some obscure 'zine near the door of a record store or dive club and discover someone else's opinions while riding the subway home.No, I get you, except I grab a copy of The Onion and head straight for the AV Club.

I'd love to see this project stay alive in some shape or form, though I don't listen to nearly enough music to contribue.

[nancyb]

Does this mean I'm going to have to rely on the PTA Newsletter to make it into the journalism big time?

[MikeLastort2]

I'm sorry I didn't get anything to you, Footix. Somehow real life took over big time right around the same time you wanted to get Debris going.


:(