What can live theater tells us about the human condition? Well, dramas tell us that there are consequences to murdering people, usually tragic. Comedies tell us that after some period of gender indentification confusion somebody will be married. Hmm? I guess live theater does not tell us much about regular stuff, like over-eating, avoiding bill collectors and hobbits. That being said, I must urge anyone visiting the north eastern United States to see “Wonder of the World.” It shall be playing over the next 3 weeks and promises to be a delightful evening of merriment and hijinx. Some may even call it “absurd.” It features my kid sister, Gab, who some might call “absurd.” Please spend $10 and enjoy a night of live theater. You can always TiVo “The Love Boat.”

Post-Thanksgiving Interlude: Our editorial staff has decided to call off our boycott of Thanksgiving. Though we hate made up holidays like Grandparents Day, Boxer Day and Memorial Day, we made a special point last year of pointing out the unhistorical likelyhood of Thanksgiving. First off, we said, there were many Spanish colonies in the U.S. nearly 200 years before Jamestown. Why don’t we eat paella on Thanksgiving? Oh, and what about Jamestown? Just because they were merchants here to steal natural resources doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a holiday. I’m sure they ate some maize and wild game bird too.

Anyway, we apologize. Thanksgiving is fine. There’s something positive to be said about a Thursday holiday. It really breaks up the week and it gives banks less time to lose money. Plus, we love the pumpkin pie. Something they apparently don’t have in South America! Way to go, Pilgrims. Way to go.

Listeners to the old Radio Philistine show know how much I love power pop. That is, if they’re still alive. Etouffe and I spent many a Saturday afternoon spinning the likes of Big Star, Cheap Trick, Teenage Fan Club, the Bigger Lovers and, of course, Matthew Sweet on WPTS FM-92.1, among others. So you can imagine how excited I was to see Matthew Sweet as he toured through our sleepy hamlet recently. He played a jangly, delightful hour and a half set of old classics and new stuff from his terrific new CD, “Sunshine Lies.” And best of all, he had Ric Menck pounding out the beats. Here is a photo of me and the Menck.

Fans of power pop should know Ric Menck as the drummer/ singer/ songwriter of the seminal 90s band Velvet Crush. If not, run out and buy “Teenage Symphonies to God,” or at least download the song “Hold Me Up.” You should also buy “The Ballad of Ric Menck,” which is a fantastic solo record of assorted odds and sods. Menck has a soft, sweet voice that doesn’t jibe with his Soggy Bottom Boy look. The record recalls the Byrds and the 80s paisley underground L.A. Band, The Three O’Clock.

I also saw Menck a few years ago drumming with the Pernice Brothers. He certainly has good taste in bands in which to be a hired gun. When I mentioned seeing him at the Pernice show, he unbuttoned his shirt to expose a brown Pernice Brothers t-shirt, of which I own the exact same one. Her Mims fell to the ground in shock as she thought Menck was going to continue undressing, but it was not to be.

Menck has also penned a book about the Byrds’ “Byrds Brothers” album for the 33 1/3 series available in hipster record and book stores everywhere. To learn more about Ric Menck, become his chum on MySpace at  http://www.myspace.com/mencker  Tell him the Philistine sent you.

By the way, had a great 45th Birthday spread out over a 3 day weekend. Her Mims made a culinary nirvana in the form of a honey nut squash lasagna, and Mother Number 1 made my Italian favorite, a vegetarian timpano (watch “Big Night” if you’re not sure). Scored loads of cool presents too, including but not limited to an iphone, Ketel One (my favorite breakfast drink), CDs (including “The Airborne Toxic Event), books (including 2 copies of Alan Moore’s “Watchmen” – more on that after I finish it – about half way through), hipster shirt, gift card for more hipster clothes, and a fox. More than a fox, really. A friend. Nay, a BFF.

Speaking of friends, President-Elect Obama and Erratic Senator McCain are meeting today with their respective wingmen, Rahm Immanuel and Lindsey Graham. Should be fun, especially when Obama mentions Joe the Plummer and asks McCain, “What were you thinking?”

Well it’s over, and frankly I don’t think I could have put up with more than a month or 2 more of this.  I probably could have used 1 more debate just to perfect my McCain impersonation, which, by the way, is way more, and I mean way more, notice all the commas, better than Darryl Hammond’s. I even have chubby, baby doll arms and a Popeye jaw. Anyway, congrats to Barack Obama et al. for the super-duper job. Way to go everybody. Seriously. I mean that from here (pointing to head).

Loads of discussion about this victory meaning the end of race/identity politics on the Webernet and such. Which probably makes sense, except for the fact that I spoke with an elected official today, a Democrat, who was incensed about the choice of Rahm Immanuel for Chief of Staff. “He better start picking some white guys, ” said the Enlightened official still basking in his party’s post-racial victory. “Um, Rahm’s Jewish,” I said. “You know, white.” “Really?” came the retort. “Well, he looks like a terrorist!”

And so we begin the Post-Post-Racial political dance. Look, there’s Pat Buchanan still warning about cities being burnt to the ground in celebration. Didn’t happen, right? What, no calls for reparations? Just wait. Rush knows. And Hannity, who, by the by, loves America because he just knows it’s the greatest country Jesus ever drilled, thinks mandatory welfare is going to be imposed any minute now. Just watch.

Oh, well. At least I won some cash and prizes from this race. One post-racial friend who used to work for an unnamed U.S. Senator never thought America would go black. Seriously. He bet cash money that racism would emerge victorious. My other bet was with an African-American Republican friend who insisted Barack would get less of a percentage of the black vote than John Kerry. We bet a nice dinner. I know, shooting the proverbial fish in the heads and billing their families for the bullets.  I also won a bottle of Ketel One from another friend involving the vote of an old labor stalwart.

Anyone want to bet whether or not I collect on any of these bets? Yeah, me neither.

All right, it’s official. We endorse that One! Using the conventional wisdom of cable pundocrats, I’d rather have a drink with this guy. He looks like a tanned Sinatra just rolling in at 6a.m. after shooting craps all night. Granted, McStumps also loves to play craps, but he uses his wife’s money. How lame is that? Also, Crazy Mac was almost single handedly responsible for the proliferation of Indian casinos all over this country. They used to be his largest supporters until “drill, baby, drill” starting writing checks. But they didn’t write checks like the Hollywood celebratocracy. Holy shit, Obama raised $650 million! He couldn’t even spend it all. He tried. Just to screw with Stumpie’s head, Obama ran ads in Arizona the final weekend. Hee-hee. And Hillary said he wouldn’t be tough enough. How do you like him now? I just hope he mentions both Biggie and Tupac in his acceptance speech. That would be awesome. Oh, and I hope Bill Ayers and O.J. join him on stage. Take that, Foxworthy!

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