MondayMarch 31, 1986
Daily Nebraskan
Page 11
Arts
"Eeterfaiiemeet
Repi
aeesnents - for everything you've had enough of
By Charles Lieurance
Senior Reporter
The Replacements for what?
1, (Replacement s for the trend of-the-week
club. For the "mohawk one day,
cockatoo perm the next" world of
.alternative music. There's no name for
what The Replacements do besides
rock W roll. Pure, unflinching, brat
youth power. Blind mumblety peg.
Concert Review
Warm. Anonymous frustration mail from
the knickers side of 30. Unsatisfied.
Not a trend in sight. Alone and on the
drunken lam from mainstream popu
larity. The Replacements walk the thin
line between being major rock stars
and major felons.
2. Replacements for the Rolling
Stones, The Who, those ancient skulls
that talk and sing. Who needs them?
The Replacements write and play with
all their blood, their limbs glued to the
gas pedal. No arthritis, detritus, apo
plexy, palsey or narcolepsy here. Pete
Townsend in the publishing business?
Nice suit, Pete, I especially like the
silk hanky. "Harlem Shuffle?" Why do
the Stones crawl out of their sendentary
slumber once every four years and pre
tend they have the slightest clue about
what's going on musically? Check out
The Replacements "Bastards of Young,"
a masterpiece that gives "My Genera
tion" and "Satisfaction" their due and
then puts them out to pasture: "The
ones who love us least are the
ones well die topleaseifit 's any
consolatum, I don 't begin to under
stand them We are the sons of no
one Bastards of Young ..."
3. Replacements for boredom. For
sitting on the railroad tracks drinking
Red, White and Blue brand beer. For
that big ugly fat radio that sits around
and sings Lionel Richie to you all day.
You never liked all those teen-age sui
cide stations, anyway. For eating french
fries and tofu, sprouts and cottage
cheese. How can you be bored when
guitarist Bob Stinson is on stage nude
or in a pair of floral polyester bib over
alls? Had enough of Death Valley Days?
So have I. So have the Replacements.
See REPLACEMENTS on 12
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Paul VonderlageDaily Nebraskan
The Replacements at the Drumstick last fall.
The little things in life make you wonder
It would be easy to simply label what
follows as a pet peeve column,
though little of this stuff really
affects me personally. My feet hurt
enough without my wearing high heels
and I walk when there are no cars com
ing whether the light says to or not.
It might be more accurate to label
this one man's attempt to understand
some of those things about human
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72 ) Bill
Alio
nature that really can't be understood,
an attempt to delve into the psychology
of culture that has been layered upon
culture until it's simple that way, with
no explanation and none asked. And
when asked about, it's simply the way
things are.
Or some might call it a hodge-podge,
a collection of thoughts that can't be
stretched into a whole column on their
own, yet need to be written, for no real
purpose other than to relieve the pro
verbial chest. Call it what you will, it
reads the same.
As long as I can remember the
females of our American species
have wedged their often tender
and delicate feet into high heeled
shoes. High heels are obviously an
invention of some sadist who enjoys
just thinking about the blisters, the
squeezed toes, the twisted ankles and
the embarrassment caused by a heel
breaking on a crowded dance floor.
Somewhere along the way it became
a cultural thing that women perhaps
look better even sexier when
they subject themselves to the torture
of a high heel. Stores still sell them,
women still buy them.
And women buy them and wear
,them, often complaining the whole
time the wedged wonders are squeez
ing the lifeblood from their feet.
I wonder why? Why, in these days of
supposed emancipation do supposedly
intelligent, educated women subject
themselves to this kind of torture?
There are several low heeled shoes that
appear just as attractive to me, and to
be honest, seeing a woman hobble in
bone crushing agony makes her appear
more a creature of pity than a fashion
conscience trend watcher.
I can only wonder. And I can only
shake my head sadly when a woman
gearing high heels tells me she isn't a
victim of a sick culture.
In downtown Lincoln, there are now
flashing hand sign symbols for
"WALK" and "DON'T WALK," in
stead of the words. This is fine, I sup
pose. People who can't read plain sim
ple English and small children might
benefit from such signs. And it isn't too
hard for me to figure out that a red
lighted hand means "DON'T WALK"
and a white lighted walking figure
means "WALK."
Under these signs are printed in
structions telling you what the new
signs mean. My question is, who are
these printed signs for? If a person
can't read English for "WALK" and
"DON'T WALK" how are they going to
read these little printed signs? Ditto
for small children. I can only assume
these signs are for people who can
read, yet can't figure out that a red
hand means "DON'T WALK" and a
white walking figure means "WALK." If
this is the case, then I'm even more
confused.
For as long as I can remember,
things like washing detergent and
dishwashing liquid have kept get
ting "new and improved."
If this is true I wonder how my
grandmother ever managed to get
clothes or dishes cleaned with the old
and worthless brands sold then.
But I have a couple of major prob
lems with this whole concept. First of
all, once something is "new and im
proved" the company will still sell the
"regular" product. Why? If they make
something new and improved, why con
tinue to sell the old, unimproved stuff?
This whole campaign is getting a bit
overused and dry. I'm ripe for some
major company to come out with a pro
duct that is "old and still better than
that damned new and improved stuff."
Pretty soon this whole concept is
going to spill over into our personal
lives.
"Honey, welcome home to a new and
improved sex life."
"Sit down, Mr. Allen, for a new and
improved haircut."
"How about a new and improved
beer, Mr. Allen?"
"My father is better than yours. He's
new and improved."
"Ah, the weather sure is new and
improved today."
Ahhhhhh!
These first two items probably can
be called pet peeves more than
anything else, but they are not
minor occurrences when you look at
them in perspective to all the forces in
the universe.
The first of these personal dislikes of
mine is what my former neighbors,
Dave and Kevin, came to term "beer
bagging."
Bagging beers is the unthinkable
habit of leaving a half-full can or glass
of beer sitting around at a party.
Some people really carry this to the
extreme, going so far as to open
another beer after leaving a half full
one sitting around.
It gets worse. My friend Mark will
bag his own beers! That's right, beers
he paid for!
Call me a sexist maniac if you will,
but generally the biggest beer baggers
are women (except for Mark, who ranks
as the all time bagger of the world.)
Ang generally the women bag not their
own beer, but beers bought by men.
Again, this crime (if you will allow
me to call it that) doesn't reach its
most hideous form until that second
beer is opened or poured while one is
collecting cigarette butts over by the
couch.
Mark says "I don't like warm beer,"
as if that explains this behavior.
I responded simply that warm beer
is just beer that isn't cold. Or, if he
insists, why not put the half full beer in
the refrigerator, open another beer,
drink half of it, then go back and drink
the now cold half of the first beer while
putting the now half full warm one in
the refrigerator to get cold again. Sim
ple. Most things in life are unless there
are small children involved.
Finally, I hate those damn candy
machines that have the candy set
in between those twisted wires
that turn and dump out the end piece
when you make a selection.
The problem is that eventually, you're
going to hit a selection and the wire is
going to twist just far enough that the
candy will hang over the edge but not
drop out.
It will always happen when you used
your last 40 cents. So you're out of luck
and the next sucker that makes that
selection will get two candy bars for
the price of one.
It's that way with a lot of things in
life.
I can only wonder.
Allen is a senior English major and Daily
Nebraskan arts an3 entertainment editor.
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Andrea HoyDaily Nebraskan
and these little piggies have the blood squeezed out of
them.
Andrea HoyDaily Nebraskan
Who are these instructions for? Melissa George of Emporia,
Kan., said sh3's never seen anything like this before.