Unplayable 45s I won't throw out: #5 in a series.

Let's look at this obscurity from 1967:



"The Eggplant That Ate Chicago" was written by Norman Greenbaum, who had a big hit a few years later with "Spirit in the Sky," a song we heard all the time at The Halfway Inn in East Quad, all those many years ago (in 1970). But back before I went to college, when I was playing 45s on a record player that closed up like a tiny suitcase, I liked this Dr. West's Medicine Show & Junk Band song. It fit in with the Jim Kweskin & the Jug Band and Lovin' Spoonful kinds of things that I was quite fond of. Boy, Dr. West's Medicine Show & Junk Band... that is such a thoroughly hippie name for a group that it makes me feel all bad inside for a thousand amorphous reasons. Ah, snap out of it! Let's look at the lyrics:

You'd better watch out for the eggplant that ate Chicago,
For he may eat your city soon.
You'd better watch out for the eggplant that ate Chicago,
If he's still hungry, the whole country's doomed.

He came from outer space, lookin' for somethin' to eat.
He landed in Chicago. He thought Chicago was a treat.
(It was sweet, it was just like sugar.)

Norman then, Norman later:



A YouTube search for Norman came up empty, but so what? It gives us a chance to listen to the Jim Kweskin Jug Band: here.

Have a good evening listening to some old hippie music.

UPDATE: Well, apparently my YouTube search skills suck, but Sippican comes to the rescue. Here's "Spirit in the Sky."

Yeesh! That's a primative music video.

I've never been a sinner
I've never sinned
I've got a friend in Jesus

It was really early Christian rock.

"The R. Crumb Handbook."

I've been reading "The R. Crumb Handbook." (Yeah, it's one of the five books referred to here, the guessing commenters will be interested to know.) I was not an R. Crumb fan until the movie "Crumb" drew me in. The Handbook is terrific, mixing written biographical text and illustrated pages. The text to a great extent tracks the story told in the movie, with some notable differences. The book emphasizes Crumb's Catholic upbringing, a subject entirely missing from the movie.

When you make a documentary, you take your footage and tell the story you want -- like a lawyer deciding what evidence to present. The R. Crumb of the movie was shaped by weird parents, the repressive American culture of the 1950s, and the liberating effect of LSD and sex. The Crumb of the book is much more grounded in serious respect for art and an intensely religious upbringing.

The book comes with a CD of Crumb's old-timey music. Fans -- like me! -- of Jim Kweskin should enjoy it. I'm sitting in a café, waiting to get my hands on the new marijuana case, and, needing to screen out something awful the baristas decided to unleash on the nerve-jangled customers, I started playing the Crumb CD through the headphones on my computer. The fifth song is a bit much, but it makes me laugh anyway. It's a jaunty little ditty called "My Girl's P***y."

Now, let's see if I can get to the case.