The good people at WordPress tell me when people visit this blog ratchear off of search terms. Which is weird, if you axe me, because I’m trying to tell people about the late Hi-Fi Kish, the late Carl Perkins, and the coeval Jim ‘Couch’ Swope. I’m having about as much success at these goals as one of those dingbat street preachers screaming himself hoarse, directing accusatory hellfire damnation at passersby from the lofty vantage point of a milk crate. People come to the Hive of the Hee-Hawg after looking up ‘Superego podcast,’ ‘Shunt McGuppin,’ and ‘Ralph Agresta Facebook entries.’
I’m certainly cool with the Superego searchers. I wish they’d leave me some feedback, though. Outside of an electrician and his two helpers who did some rough-in while I was playing several Superego episodes at work, I don’t know any other living human being, in the flesh, who has EVER listened to Superego. I love the coarse humor, combined with references to Bronze Age comics, the ‘Star Wars Expanded Universe,’ and multiple James Bond references. I mean, now I hear instrumental version of ‘The Man With the Golden Gun’ and think gut-busting comedy. And, in the Superego universe, when characters work in oppressive retail environments such as Buffum’s Fragrance Counter and Leffingwell’s Grocery Store, the horrible piped-in muzak that warps each character’s mind is the horrific instrumental theme from ‘For Your Eyes Only.’
So, I dunno who the other people are out there are who love Superego sooooo much that they’ll look up the podcast name and their favorite ‘case study.’ I assume they’re like me; too diffident to say ‘Hidy’ and unwilling to engage strangers in conversation, even from the distance of the keyboard. That, or they’re the actual Superego guys themselves, just scouring the webs for any mention that ups their profile and moves them out of the ‘riotous podcast for no money sphere’ to the ‘meh….movie for feh…money sphere.’ They come by the Hive of the Hee-Hawg fairly often, though. They probably need to listen to some Swope to go with their Shunt McGuppin. Separated at Birth!
The ‘Ralph Agresta Facebook entries’ refers to a post I made of a ‘Hot Licks’-type book of transcribed, well, ‘hot guitar licks’ that I got when I was 15. I was hoping it would make the guitar ‘E-Z’ and that I wouldn’t have to learn ‘music’ or do humiliating things like ‘sing in public.’* That book was from 1988, the author was one Ralph Agresta.
Now, I haven’t googled ‘Ralph Agresta’ to find out just what the shit he’s been up to, lo, these many years since he authored ‘The Classic Riff Collection For Rock Guitar, Volume 1.’ I assume he’s probably fiftyish, gigs on weekends, is the ‘hired gunslinger’ for multiple bands of Type-A professionals. The Type-A professionals that have hired Ralph Agresta are also fiftyish, recapturing the youth they wasted with their noses buried in schoolbooks, and, more than likely, insanely attentive to detail. The upside, for our theoretical ‘Ralph Agresta,’** is that he gets paid cash money, probably right out of the ‘bandleader’s’ pocket. The downside is having to show up at 6 on a Saturday afternoon at dive bar for a show at 10 while some OCD engineer type frets over a sound mixer and P.A. that’s ridiculously large for a 65 person-capacity barroom.
The worst case scenario is that it’s not Ralph Agresta himself showing up at the Hive of the Hee-Hawg from a search engine after googling himself, but his parole officer! Maybe Ralph pulled a DUI and has a tight-ass monitoring agent who has taken to the webs to make certain Case File: Defendant Agresta wasn’t out ‘in the street’ mixing with ‘bad elements’ who ‘enable poor decision-making.’ Every couple of weeks or so, Ralph Agresta’s monitoring agent is on the search toolbar, looking for Facebook photos of Ralph Agresta, making sure he’s not playing in any bars he/she can identify, making sure Ralph ain’t going out of state with first asking his/her permission, and generally just checking Ralph’s Wall to make sure no one’s leaving ‘telling’ messages like ‘gr8 2 C U @ Flopper’s, better lay off the booger sugar @ after party!!! Luv U!!!’
*Ha ha ha. The real humiliation is being the poor bastard who has to listen to me sing. Talk about your diminished circumstances…
**As opposed to the real ‘Ralph Agresta,’ who I refuse to google.