The Lint Screen

Author: PD Scullin

  • King Kid Leo

    His given name is Lawrence Travagliante, a mouthful for sure, and the kind of name that’d bust the bank if you were printing softball jerseys.

    But millions of rock fans know him as Kid Leo, the greatest rock DJ of all time in the opinion of this half-deaf boomer. Kid Leo’s still doing his stuff 4-7 PM on Little Steven’s Underground Garage on satellite radio (channel 25 Sirius, channel 59 XM). “Little Steven” is Steve Van Zandt (AKA Miami Steve), legendary E. Street Band guitarist, Tony Soprano’s main man, Silvio Dante, and evil music pusher.

    Rock ‘n roll music is Satan’s soundtrack, beware, childrens!
    If you’ve never heard Kid Leo, you’ve never heard rock radio as it was meant to be, before the days of heavy rotation vanilla corporate rock.

    From 1974 to 1988, Kid Leo spit into the microphone at WMMS-FM (The Buzzard) in Cleveland. Back then, the format was called ‘Progressive Rock’, a fancy way to say album rock or whatever the hell vinyl the DJ wanted to play. From ’79 to ’87, WMMS was named Radio Station of The Year by readers of Rolling Stone (this is a bit of a cheat as legend has it the #1 vote was the response “Radio sucks”). Still, WMMS was a force and one of the main reasons the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame is located by Lake Erie. Kid Leo was one of the key drivers of WMMS. I was an avid listener, when the signal wafted into the outer reaches of northeastern Ohio.

    Once, a buzzard ruled the airwaves. Imagine.
    The Kid’s voice is gruff, like a Harley Davidson engine on a cold morning. He speaks in beat-influenced hipster slang patter, making the English language his bitch.

    He’s the guy your parents warned you about when you were growing up, the one who had no job, smoked one Pall Mall to light another, smelled of stale whiskey, swore colorfully, had a stack of well-worn Penthouses, drove a muscle car way too fast and would happily buy you and your under-aged friends some PBR on the sly–providing there was a six or so in it for him.

    He knew all the bands and all the songs, with an unrivaled record collection, and would craft a playlist that’d have you riding an emotional roller coaster– like you had a fist in your gut. At the end of his musical journey, he’d deliver you exhausted and begging for another ride ‘round the track.

    Before the days of manufactured boy bands, ‘focus-grouped sounds’ and crossover media megastars, Kid Leo identified and gave air cover to interesting, compelling artists he thought were worth hearing–– Springsteen, Bowie, Patty Smith, Pretenders, Ramones, Southside Johnny & The Asbury Jukes, Mink DeVille, Graham Parker and The Rumour, Rickie Lee Jones, Tom Waits, on and on and on. He nestled them in deep tracks of great bands and great songs from obscure bands you felt shamed for not knowing.

    It was an audio stew that continually coaxed your fingers to dial the volume control knob louder and louder and louder still until blood trickled on your shoulders.

    On Friday’s at 6PM, he officially ushered in the weekend for northeast Ohio by playing Springsteen’s Born to Run , and it was like the green flag had been dropped.

    Kid Leo conjured musical magic that made beer taste better.

    He ended each shift with his guttural signature, “It’s time for me to punch out and wash up” and that about said it all. Kid Leo worked in the rock and roll mill, manufacturing one hell of a good time. At the end of his shift, he was dirty and spent. And so were his listeners.

    If you’ve never heard him, he’s worth the price of admission to satellite radio. Join Kid Leo during one of his work shifts, work up an honest sweat and see if you don’t agree he’s the best there is and quite possibly the best there ever was.

  • ’tis The Luck of The Irish

    Me Irish pride swelled last night to see a cheery green bow tie made in China promoting a Belgian-owned beer company celebrating the Irish holiday dedicated to Romano-Briton.

    Yes, you can taste tears in Guinness.

  • Al-Cowda Threat Level Raised

    Surveillance cameras reveal Al-Cowda infiltration into the United States. Be afraid!
    The nation is girding its collective loins in response to new reports from The National Security Agency that Al-Cowda is posing a serious threat to the United States. The NSA has raised the security threat level from cool ‘n creamy soft amber to smokin’ hot, radiant pink.

    “We’re just worried sick,” said Deputy Administrator Thomas Dundstun, “our intelligence is showing a significant infiltration of bovine enemy combatants on American soil. We’re not sure if they’re mildly upset cows, somewhat angry cows or mad cows. But they pose a very real and dangerous threat to homeland security.”

    The NSA has captured pictures and video footage of cows being transported across state lines and in the parking lots of Cracker Barrels. “If these Al-Cowda agents are enjoying blueberry pancakes and crispy bacon, I fear for our way of life,” said Agent Edward Sustean. “If they’ve somehow managed to master opening small bottles of maple syrup with their hooves, I can’t imagine how much trouble they could cause if they set their evil minds to it. God help us all if they’re shopping in the Cracker Barrel gift shops. We could see a very real and serious shortage of Porter Wagner and Roger Miller CDs, not to mention candy sticks and adorable home decor bric-a-bracs!”

    If you see any suspicious bovine activity, scream your throat raw, flail your arms wildly, run and dig a deep hole to crawl into and take cover.

  • On Apathy

    I was going to write a diatribe about the appalling state of apathy that has gripped so many people these days, but then I thought– why bother?

    What’s it matter and who cares anyway?

  • Tea Baggers Embrace ESL

    Tea Baggers soon to adopt English!
    Members of the growing Tea Bagger movement have officially decided to adopt English as its second language.

    “We speak ‘Patriot’ which ain’t like no king’s English cuz we ain’t never bowin’ down to no king or no dadblum government official of any kind,” said Clem Burnsack, official Tea Bagger Party spokesman as he dropped his chin to his spit cup and expelled a brown river. He loaded another plug of tobacco and continued.

    “Now there’s some who say we don’t spell or grammar so good, but that’s just cuz we’re so mad we’re fixin’ to pop a gasket. We don’t want no politicians or government getting their greedy hands on our Medicare or Social Security checks. We earned ’em straight up and they’re ours! If it takes us getting some book learnin’ of the formalized English language to be better speakin’-like, well I reckon that’s what we’ll do. But not cuz the government wants us to! The government’s evil and needs to keep its mitts off my money.”
    Another patriot, Paul Wint, said that he thinks Tea Baggers are unfairly criticized for poor spelling and grammar. “It’s the government’s way of making us feel stupid and under-edjemecated. The government don’t like us home schoolerizing our kids cuz the government wants to brainwash their little heads with their government gobblygook and such. Others might study all this English crap, but I ain’t got no use for it. I speak Patriot, and if you don’t understand it I got me firearms that are understood in just about any language.” He pulled out a pistol, fired it into the air and danced a little jig.

  • Breathless on The Red Carpet

    Wish you were here and making the walk into heaven!
    Ohmigod, this is so amazing, I’m seeing more stars than Capt. James Kirk on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise at warp speed 5.4, look over there– J Lo, you go girl– and George Clooney, love you in E.R., and there’s that tall blue lady from Avatar— you were incredible sugar, glad goodness beat evil on Pandora, oh, and there’s Meryl Streep and she’s got Sandra Bullock in a headlock and is giving her face some fist kisses, and there’s Jeff Bridges and he’s got his bathrobe with a caucasian in hand, go, Dude, abide, and here’s Katheryn Bigelow and she’s wearing a bomb suit designed by Jason Wu, absolute stunning, and over there’s her ex-hubby, James Cameron who’s being carried into the theatre on a king’s throne– nice touch with the children tossing rose petals as he whips them lightly– oh, and lookit over there, Mo’Nique wearing nothing but a feather boa and a welder’s helmet, oh, wait, is that– yes it is, look–Ken Watchons, who did some amazing grip work on Precious, and behind him is what’s her name, you know, the really beautiful woman who was in that movie about the thing that happened that one time, you know, the one that’s in color–oh, I need a paper sack, I’m hyperventilating here…