PAPERBOY: ‘The Good, The Bad & The Chutley’ Edition

paperboyartthumbnail.jpgBY DAVE ALLEN Like time, news waits for no man. Keeping up with the funny papers has always been an all-day job, even in the pre-Internets era. These days, however, it’s a two-man job. That’s right, these days you need someone to do your reading for you, or risk falling hopelessly behind and, as a result, increasing your chances of dying lonely and somewhat bitter. That’s why every week, PAPERBOY does your alt-weekly reading for you. We pore over those time-consuming cover stories and give you the takeaway, suss out the cover art, warn you off the ink-wasters and steer you towards the gooey center. Why? Because we love you!


PW: OMG PHILS! This is quite a step up from the patch on the cover that ran two weeks ago. Great recollections from Larry Magid — wonderful to hear so many colorful names (Putsy Caballero!) and vivid memories, especially for those of us whose memories only stretch back to the tail end of Mike Schmidt’s career. This anecdote, from the days of Connie Mack Stadium and three-dollar tickets? Priceless.

I still remember the game. The Phillies were playing the Cardinals. The Phils lost the game 4-1. But right before pw10_23_08.jpgthe game I asked this cute girl if she’d give me a kiss if Del Ennis hit a home run. She agreed, and he did! Ennis’ home run was the Phillies’ one run.

After the game we’re leaving the stadium and I see all these old timers chuckling at us as we’re walking out. I guess they thought we were cute or something. I can still see their faces…

Did I get the kiss from the cute girl for the Del Ennis home run? I collect on all my debts.

The Phils’ history is hard-bitten, no question, even more so that a certain red-clad American League franchise, but Magid’s piece shows that we’ve got something on our side they don’t: the ability to weather change. From the Baker Bowl to Connie Mack and on down to the spots in South Philly, the soul of the fan has stayed the same. Bostonites might say “Fenway forever,” but ain’t it pretty quiet on Yawkey Way this week?

I was blindsided by Patrick Rapa’s intro to CP’s music issue. Just when I thought the power of “where were you when…” stories had faded… Anyway, a nice sampling of genres and bands, with John Vettese capturing the exploded pop of Grammar Debate! and A.D. Amorosi’s feisty take on the equally-feisty Ursula Rucker.

cp_2008_10_23.jpgUrsula Rucker has never faltered in her raw-knuckled socio-conscious prose and sexually endowed lyrics of femme empowerment. Ch-ch-check out her cameos on albums for King Britt or The Roots and her slam slots on Def Poetry Jam. Listen to her klatch of bitchily brewed CDs. Start with 2001’s epic Supa Sista and go from there.

Little has changed since we first got to know Rucker on Roots records and readings at Zanzibar Blue. She still hangs with Ahmir Thompson and that Britt character. King’s FiveSix label is releasing her new CD, Ruckus Soundsysdom.

“That Philly communal music thing — it’s part of the legacy of this city, man,” says Rucker. “Folk get together and form unique long-lasting art bonds. Must be the Schuylkill punch. King was the first cat to put me on. Ahmir gave me my first opportunity to be brazen, and take my writing to the next level.”

“Klatch”? Clutch.


PW: OMG MORE PHILS… Wait, ass quarters? I believe the preferred term is “mentally handicapped,” Jay. Florida? But that’s America’s wang! All these bars in one night? I think it’d be worth the cab fare.

CP: A Palin endorsement? With a wink, maybe. Amy Sedaris: egg white-phobic, but still fabulous. Care to revise that prediction, Mr. Beale? A lot is riding on this. Building a city of champs: First the Soul, now this. Obrigado e felicitações, Wilson.

PW’s cover might seem like the makings of an easy victory this week — I’ve rewarded prominent sports coverage in the past — but what it came down to was this: which do I like better, booze or music? PW pulls off the win, with this six-pack edging out CP’s sextet of musical acts.

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