TWO FUNNY PHILLY GUYS starring me and the amazing Joe Conklin is returning to the Media Theatre on Saturday November 3rd at 8PM. Special guest MC NFL HOF RAY DIDINGER! Click here for tickets!!
BIG NEWS! I'm returning to Birdsboro's BLACKJAX on Rt422 on Friday Sept. 28th at 8pm. With Spins Nitely! Call (610) 385-5299 for tickets! Then on Saturday October 13th, I’m back at the Comedy Cabaret above Poco’s ~ North Main Street 625, Doylestown. Details coming soon!
BIG DADDY'S CLASSIC ROCK THROWDOWN
If you are a music lover and you haven't been listening to BIG DADDY'S CLASSIC ROCK THROWDOWN with Spins Nitely, then check it out!
Every THURSDAY at 8 PM. Listen live athttp://wildfireradio.com/big-daddy-graham. By the way, all you have to do is click on that wildfire blue line and the most current show will AUTOMATICALLY begin to play, Just give it a moment
TRIVIA AND QUIZZO...
TUESDAY ~ PJ Whelihans in Maple Shade NJ at 7 PM
My daughter Ava is running a Quizzo nite at CHICKIE & PETE'S in Drexel Hill every Tuesday at 7 PM! Plus every Wednesday night at 8PM at PJ WHELIHANS in Haddonfield. Don't forget Thursday night at 7pm at CHICKIE & PETE'S in South Philly!That's a busy schedule!
Big Daddy Graham-Marc Farzetta & Joe Conklin taking a stab at Sinatra's "Summer Wind!" Click Here
THE 15 BEST PERFORMANCES BY AN ACTRESS IN A SPORTS MOVIE
Here's who we have nominated so far. (In alphabetical order)
A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN
ANY GIVEN SUNDAY
THE BAD NEWS BEARS
MILLION DOLLAR BABY
Hey! If you need any mortgage work done whatsoever get hold of my main man Ken Miller at 856-830-1131 or 609-238-3293 firstname.lastname@example.org NMLS #152270
RAVINGS FROM A MAN WHO NEVER SLEEPS... 9/6
Here's my latest article for the South Jersey Mag
MY FAVORITE EAGLE MEMORIES FROM 1960 ON
Yes, from the moment they won their last championship on December 26th, 1960. Now I was barely born, so I have no memory of that championship. But over the years I ended up meeting quite a few players on that team, so there will be some connecting points.
November 3, 1963. I had to look up all the info on the game, including the exact date, but I vividly remember being on the trolley with my Dad and heading to the game at Franklin Field. (Still the best venue in town for a football game) It was the only time I went to an Eagles game with my Father and it turned out he wasn’t taking me to cheer on the Birds, but to be able to one day say that I saw the legendary Cleveland Brown Jim Brown. Brown rushed for 223 yards and Cleveland won the battle. And guess what? Whenever Brown’s name comes up, I exclaim “You know, I saw Brown play once . . . . . . “
EAGLES 20 DALLAS 7 ~~ JANUARY 11, 1981 Besides the bitter cold and the fact that this win propels the Birds to their first Super Bowl, what I remember the most was the bond it created between my girlfriend Debbie and I. We drove to the game together and parked in the supermarket lot where the South Philly Chickie & Pete’s sits today. We walked to the Vet together, but we were not sitting with each other. When we got to the gate, we wished each luck, and off she went to sit with her stepfather and family and I to my 700-level buddies. Needless to say, Wilbert Montgomery scored that 41 yard touchdown propelling the Eagles to their first Super Bowl appearance. After the game, Debbie and I met back at the parking lot and hugged and danced the best that two human ice cubes could. It was one of the many special bonding moments we would share and fifteen months later we were married and still are today.
SEEING WILLIAM “THE REFRIDGERATOR” PERRY NAKED
October 24, 1994. I just got hired to do a 1210AM radio show titled “The Sports Attack” with Scott Graham and Neil Hartman. It was my first foray into “Sports Talk Radio.” I was now a fully credentialed member of the sports media, and I couldn’t believe it when I discovered this. I was now able to go to any sports game in town FOR FREE. Plus they fed you. Are you bleepin’ kidding me?! And if all that was not enough I had full access to the locker rooms after the games to interview players. I loved sports, but just like anyone other schmuck, I only ever got into a game the old fashioned way. Paying. This was incredible. It was a Monday Night Football game, and as I learned that night after the game, the first thing you did was go to the head coach’s press conference. When that was done, you would wait with about a hundred other media members, for the locker room doors to open. It was so exciting. I really had no intention of interviewing anyone. I was a standup comic who somehow ended up on this sports radio show. So I wasn’t about to interfere with reporters who had been doing this kind of thing for a living their entire adult lives. But I was excited to take in the atmosphere of a big league locker room and was thrilled as hell when the doors to the locker room opened and I was allowed to go in. And the first thing I see? A completely naked 340 pound William “The Refrigerator” Perry. And after close to twenty five years, I’m still struggling to get that visual out of my head.
RICH KOTITE SHOW The Eagles started off the season ands started off strong going 7-1, then lost their next eight games. As I stated above, I had just started in the sports business the October of 1994. Well, now it’s Monday, December 26th, 1994 and Birds head coach, Rich Kotite has just gotten fired. One little problem. There was still one Rich Kotite Show, co-hosted by the late, great Al Meltzer to go. And 1210AM, the station I had just started at roughly two months ago, was contractually obliged to carry it. Kotite, who was let go earlier in the afternoon, doesn’t bother to show up. No surprise there. But Meltzer doesn’t want t do the show either. To make a long story short, guess who ends up hosting the show with no guests whatsoever. You guessed it. Yours truly. Here’s an example of every call I got that evening in an hour-long show. Twenty calls. All exactly like this.
ME Let’s go to Freddie from Collingswood.
FREDDIE Rich Kotite sucks.
If anyone has a copy of that show, please destroy it. Thank you.
4TH AND 1
December 10th, 1995. The Eagles stop the Cowboys, not once, but twice on fourth and one to win one of the more memorable battles between these two rivals ever. What makes it truly memorable was that I was literally standing on the sidelines with my size 13’s touching the out-of-bounds line. Back then, at the Vet, the media was allowed on the field with three minutes left to go in the game. I thought I knew what pro football was like, but to actually stand right there, that close, and see how hard they hit and how fast they fly, and the terrific, filthy, trash talking that goes on, I had no idea. One of my great experiences ever. Of any type, not just sports. Alas, this media luxury ceased when the Birds moved to the Linc.
CHUCK BEDNARIK IN 1996, I was hired to MC a sports banquet at a hotel somewhere near the airport. The Greatest Eagle Of All Time Chuck Bednarik is one of the speakers. My hand has already been broken from shaking his and the hotel is really slow on getting the dinners out. The program is due to start after dinner and everything is an hour and a half late. Remarkably though, everyone seems to be having a good time despite this and there are some other heavy hitters at the dais besides Chuck such as Robin Roberts and Gene Hart. The woman who is actually running the night pulls me away from the table and in a quiet whisper says, “What should we do? Give it another ten minutes or start it now?” Before I can give an answer, all of a sudden Mr. Bednarik bellows out “start it now!” I glance at the woman as if to say “how in the hell did he hear us” and needless to say we did exactly as the now 70 year old still scary tough-as-nails Chuck told us to do, we started it NOW.
4th AND 26 January 11, 2004. Eagles-Packers. I am in the press box perched high atop the Linc, a mile away from the action. The windows of the box are closed and since the media is never allowed to cheer, it’s like a funeral viewing in there. This will not do for me and I make my way down to the stands where I know John, Joe Conklin’s brother-in-law, is seated in the endzone. And that’s where I watched this legendary Donovan McNabb to Freddie Mitchell miracle that enables the Birds to continue their playoff march. John’s Sea Isle City house is practically in my backyard, and we often bring that moment up. And just smile.
SUPER BOWL 52 When the game and all the post-game madness had ended, guess who was the first host at 94WIP taking phone calls? Again, that would be yours truly. I’m kind of proud of that. I really am.
RAVINGS FROM A MAN WHO NEVER SLEEPS... 9/6
Here's my latest article for the Sea Isle Times
HIGHLIGHTS OF SUMMER 2018
I wind up every end of the summer season with this piece, so let’s get to it!
FIVE TIMES FAMOUS Each summer I salute a band or a solo musician with an acoustic guitar that I was unfamiliar with before. In this case, I want to make you aware of an excellent duo that go by the really cool name of “Five Times Fighting.” (Sounds like a Kung Fu flick that Quentin Tarantino would be screening.) Justin Cruz, handles most of their lead singing with a multi-octave voice that can hit those deep Eddie Vedder notes as well as a song like Radiohead’s “Creep” and Andrew Foster plays a mean guitar. My wife and I saw them virtually every Friday night at the Sand Bar this summer and they’re fun, engaging, and I don’t think I heard “Sweet Caroline” all summer. (I know, it’s a great song, but enough is enough!) Check them out.
BIRD WATCHERS OF AMERICA Now while this is not exactly solving the JFK conspiracy, I had no idea that for years I was sitting on the beach amongst a secret society known as the “Bird Watchers of America.” The BWA is comprised of a group of Moms who tired of their husbands ogling every woman who strutted along the beach and decided to fawn over some good looking men themselves. They had been doing this quietly but then the “#metoo” movement came along and they’re not being quiet anymore. One of the Moms (Let’s call her “Meg”) particularly had it in for this hunky six-pack abs Fudgy Wudgy dude and got tired of keeping it to herself and asked him to pose for a photo with her. The nerve! I could see if any of us husbands took a photo with some hot looking dish, we would never hear the end of it. Worse yet, Meg’s husband (Let’s call him “Dave”) snapped the photo. It turned out Dave knew exactly what he was doing and now looks at this photo as evidence when his wife gives him any gruff about whatever woman he might be checking out. The war between the sexes rages on!
AUGUST 4TH It’s been such a great summer to be an Eagles fan. Needing no excuse whatsoever to celebrate whenever the mood hits them, E-A-G-L-E-S chants would arise from bars, decks, cars, even boats. But August 4th was a special day because it was exactly six months since, well, you know the Greatest Day in Philadelphia Sports History and I got invited to three different Eagle parties. My neighbors down the street, Frank and Maryann, who own the Love Shack had a big screen set up in their backyard which backed up right to the swampy part of the bay. If it were Florida a couple alligators would have strolled in singing the Eagles fight song. They served up some awesome sausage and had one of those DVD’s of the game with Merrill and Mike calling the game. Then it was on to Meg and Brian Gallagher’s and you would have thought you were at a drive-in their screen was so big. Everything was set up right on their dock. It was a blast. The third party? Well, I was told it was kind of a stag party and I immediately thought what debauchery did this motley crew have planned? All of a sudden I saw visions of me making the 5 o’clock news. So I skipped that one and heard later it got pretty wild and that the DVD that was supposed to show the game never even worked. Oh, and I heard no one left.
THE MIRACLE OF TOWNSENDS INLET
Gail Cataldi threw a terrific baby shower for her daughter Caitlyn and son-in-law Nick D’Amico. It was a real food fest with a great turnout and, I hope you’re sitting down, there’s a rumor circulating that Angelo actually paid for the whole thing. A miracle! Though I must confess I look for a bill from him for this party every time I go out to get the mail.
MARK THE BEACH TAG COLLECTOR Years ago, when Pat Croce first started running the Sixers, he went around and asked what would be the first thing you would do if you got the job running the team. I told him I would hire the friendliest people I could find to work the parking lot booths. That everyone hated to pay to park to begin with and if they, on top of that, were treated rudely by the very first employees that they came in contact with, well, that puts people in a bad mood before they even step foot in the arena. It’s kind of the same thing with a beach tag collector. No one really wants to pay for a beach tag, but we’ve accepted it, and we do. But, dag, if that collector is rude?! That’s why I felt like saluting the 35th Street guardian, Mark. Not once the entire summer did he fail to greet you with a warm smile and a “Hello, it’s a beautiful day today!” Seriously, he remembered names and went about his job in a polite and courteous manner. My man!
BDG LIVE! Joe Conklin and I performed one of our “Two Funny Philly Guys shows in the parking lot of LaCosta that faces JFK Blvd. The night had every right to go completely wrong. I even joked when I got on stage, thanking everyone for making “my dream of performing in the parking lot of the LaCosta come true.” But somehow Jimmy Bennett and his entire staff pulled it off and it ended up being a jam packed memorable night. By the way, Conklin’s Trump impression is killer live. Plus I wrapped up another successful season of Monday Quizzo nights at O’Donnell’s Pourhouse. Comically, because of my daughter Ava becoming a regular presence on 94WIP’s Morning Show, there were team names all summer such as “Ava Graham Rocks, Big Daddy Graham Stinks.” Oh well, as long as they spelled my name right.
THE TWINS A year ago, my twin Grandkids, Jameson and Lucy, were born right at the deadline of this paper’s final issue. I was concerned that my small rancher of a Sea Isle home would not be able to accommodate them all, but my wife Debbie, did an amazing job rearranging the house and everyone slept comfortably and it was the greatest summer of my life, And believe me, I’ve had some outstanding summers. My daughter Keely and her husband Matt wanted them to be beach babies and those cuties lovingly took to the ocean immediately. It had been a long time since I had been around infants and they are just amazing. Babies are proof that we are basically good, not bad people. Total strangers would see them on the promenade and just melt. As did I.
See you next summer
RAVINGS FROM A MAN WHO NEVER SLEEPS... 8/10
Here's my latest article for the Sea Isle Times
FINDERS KEEPERS LOSERS WEEPERS
A while back, I found a pair of light, North Carolina blue silk basketball shorts in my Sea Isle crib. This was during a time period when my daughter Ava would routinely ask me and my wife Debbie if she could have four of her friends stay over and she would ultimately end up inviting fourteen. And this was in a house that comfortably slept about three thin people and a blow dryer.
But some knucklehead left his blue silk shorts behind and I took a liking to them, washed them, and have been sporting them ever since. I wear them often while I perform my 94WIP radio show because they’re so light and comfortable.
So jump four years later and I walk onto my deck from the beach and there’s Ava and her friends playing a makeshift version of Beer-Pong. I grab a seat to watch the action and to make sure no one is vomiting on my wife’s new outdoor sofa.
During a break in the action, one of Ava’s friends (who didn’t come around that often, and I didn’t know as well as some of her other friends) says to me,“So you’re a North Carolina fan?”
“Not really. In fact, I always root against them. Even against Duke.” I reply.
“Oh, I just figured that because of your shorts, you were a fan. (Long silent pause) You know I used to own a pair of shorts just like that.”
(Longer silent pause) “Is that right?” reply I.
And that was it. Except for a wedding a year later, where I know he was wondering if I was wearing the shorts under my suit, I never saw the dude again.
That’s how it works when you own a property in Sea Isle. If you’re nice enough to invite someone down and allow them to use your bathrooms and showers, then they have to know the rules. Leave something behind, it’s mine! Showers and bathrooms are very personal. How often does a guest use your shower at home back in the states? Like practically never. So what that comes with is a completely different set of rules.
Ever have a tee-shirt that you just adore? It fits right on the button. The material is just right. What makes it even more the perfect shirt is when you didn’t even buy it. My buddy Ralph left a “Pep Boys Manny, Moe & Jack” tee behind one summer and I swear on a stack of Playboys, I wore that bad boy for close to twenty years before it literally disintegrated. Even better was the fact that I bumped into Ralph almost ten tears at the Pour House and he exclaimed “so that’s where that shirt went!” and we both had a big laugh over it. It’s a “guy thing.” No big deal.
But women? I will hear my wife or one of my daughters actually call one of their friends to let them know they left their white top behind. “I’ll bring it over to Lauren’s the next time I’m over” one of them will say. Are you kidding me?! I myself would wear it before I would give it back, although I guess people would wonder what’s going down with me if I strolled into LaCosta wearing a white halter top. But that’s still preferable over giving it back.
The last time I bought a bar of soap was 1997. Shampoo? 2001. A razor? Same year. Conditioner? 2003. You see, most guys don’t care what brand of shampoo or conditioner they use down the shore. At home? Maybe it’s a different story. But in Sea Isle? A man wouldn’t think twice about using Quaker State Motor Oil if it was hanging around the outdoor shower. Which, by the way, the outdoor shower is strictly a man’s domain. A woman would prefer bathing on the 40 yard line at the Linc before stepping into those filthy man units.
I acquire so many beach chairs throughout the season, I have an annual yard sale every last weekend of September where I make as much as a couple hundred dollars. I have friends who own trailers or property “somewhere out on Route 9” and every Memorial Day Weekend when they use my driveway to park to go to the beach, I say “hey, no sense in lugging your beach chairs back and forth, just leave them in my backyard.” Every year I hear them say the same thing to themselves every Labor Day Weekend. “Ah, just leave them. We’ll be back down before September ends.” But every year they never come back down and bang goes the cash register! Another sale for me.
Coolers and flip-flops pile up on the deck. Bathing suits on shower nozzles and bathroom doorknobs. Pills and toothpaste on the bathroom counters. My shore pad might as well be a “five BELoW” store.
I’ve had college kids have their cars break down where they have to leave them on my street or in my driveway. While even I wanted stoop so low as to strip the car before they came back down the next day with help, I did have someone make me an offer once on a ’98 Honda Accord that had got left behind for a week. It was a lowball offer, but who knows? A couple hundred bucks more and there might have been a sale. Just a week ago someone asked me what year did I graduate from Council Rock.
“Huh?” says I.
“I said what year did you graduate from Council Rock?”“I didn’t go to Council Rock.”
“Oh, I’m sorry” said the stranger. “I saw your Council Rock beach towel.”
It could have been a RuPaul towel and I wouldn’t have noticed. Just another towel left behind.
But one night, one poor soul actually left his girlfriend behind and like all the above mentioned items, never got her back.
My daughter Ava had about ten college age students sleeping over. I woke up around five in the morning and when I walked out to the kitchen to grab a snack I could hear someone out on the deck talking.
It was Ted, a dude Ava had gone to Clearview High with. It sounded like he was half talking, half crying. When I walked out on the deck, Ted abruptly hung his cell up.
“Hey Ted, what’s wrong? says I.
“Well, I went out to the bar and Terri didn’t wanna go. So I went out without her and when I got back she was asleep on the couch with Ricky. And Rick’s one of my best friends. I’m going in there and punching him out!”
“No, no, no you’re not” says I. You got somewhere else to stay?
Ted replied “Well, Charlie’s I guess. Over on 40th St.”
And to Charlie’s place I walked him hitting him with every lame relationship chatter BS I could muster. Today? Ted’s living in Hoboken and working in Manhattan and doing quite well. But Terri ended up marrying Rick and Ted never got her back.
Finders Keepers. Losers Weepers.
RAVINGS FROM A MAN WHO NEVER SLEEPS... 7/3
Here's my latest article for the Sea Isle Times
CAN I BUM A RIDE?
“Hey man, my car’s in the shop. What time on Friday are you going down?” “Mary, what time are you driving home on Sunday? I’m gonna need a ride home. My usual ride has to come home on Saturday for a wedding.”
Now if you are over twenty-five and reading this, you probably haven’t had to rattle off sentences like those in years, but you certainly can hark back to those days when you didn’t own a car. Or at least back to owning a cheap heap that was such a piece of crap, you didn’t dare to drive it that far. Now times have certainly changed and I don’t think there’s a teenager in my development at home or down here on the island, who doesn’t own a car. But that was not the way it was when I was a young buck a million years ago when most of my gang did not own a car. Heck, I was the first one in my family to ever buy one and that wasn’t until I was twenty and I had two living parents and an older brother and sister. I’m not crying poormouth, that’s just the way it was for most of my friends I hung with. So simply getting down (and back home) was an undertaking of sorts. Here’s some transportation stories that I remember all too well.
TAKING A BUS DOWN
The very first time I was ever in Sea Isle (I was a Wildwood kid growing up) was when I was nine years old and my buddy Wheel’s folks had rented a house on Landis for the week and invited my Mother and me down for a couple days during the week. One little problem. How to get down? Now the first part of the journey I recall vividly. We had to lug our bags by foot to 70th & Elmwood where we boarded the 36 trolley. Then when we got off the trolley, we had to journey, bags still in hand, up and out of the tunnel to 13th & Market. Then we struggled another two blocks to the bus terminal, which came off more like a homeless shelter. And these weren’t bums, these were the riders, including me! (A seedier joint there never was) It was here that we then boarded a bus to Wildwood. If I’m remembering this story correctly, the Greyhound Bus didn’t even venture in to Sea Isle back then. So my friend’s Dad picked us up at the Wildwood Terminal and then drove us to Sea Isle. A couple days later the entire trek had to be repeated in reverse. Now as big of a hassle this was, every second of the voyage was exciting. I was going to the shore! (I can’t say the same for the trip home) Very few of my friend’s parents or older siblings had cars. It wasn’t a big issue. It’s just the way it was. While I was writing this I asked both my daughters and various 94 WIP producers (all young cats) if they ever took a bus to the shore and every single last one of them said no. Times certainly have changed and in this case, for the better. I’d rather get in a held together by rubber bands jalopy with an expired inspection sticker then go through that smelly bus ordeal again.
I wrote an entire article on thumbing rides down the shore for this paper once, so let me just say there was a time period in my life where I hitched rides to Sea Isle and back an easy seventy times. It was a sometimes thrilling, albeit frustrating, method that you never see anymore. Seriously. When was the last time you hitchhiked or even seen anyone doing it? This probably says something about us as a society, but what the hell do I know? I’m no Nancy Grace. I had a little brother who once left the house to hitch to Sea Isle and we never saw him again. Someone told me he’s now in the Trump administration as the head of the Department of Transportation.
MY FIRST CAR
I bought it at Pacifico Ford at the Airport Automall It was a white 1966 Ford Galaxie that set me back $400. It was every cent to my name and little did I know it was to be the most I would spend on a car for another five years. I was in the “wandering” stage of my life (sounds Biblical, doesn’t it). I had dropped out of two colleges and was working an endless series of stupid, deadend jobs, and living with a bunch of other unemployed knuckleheads in a cheap apartment. It got to the point where I ended up buying (and I’m not kidding on this) one $100 car after another. $100! We were so broke that I actually went in on a hundred dollar car with a friend. Imagine. So I didn’t realize it then, but my ’66 Galaxie was the equivalent of a brand new Cadillac. Coming down the Sea Isle Bridge Memorial Day Weekend in my own wheels and seeing that blue ocean was a moment I will never forget. I had imagined it for years and here I was. Blasting the Stones on the AM radio (the only source of car entertainment those days) and getting ready for the onslaught of women who were going to be waving at me at the bottom of the bridge. OK, that last part never happened, but a man can dream, right?
Now Billy, on the other hand, had a real job, that made real money, directly out of high school. He was the first of us to acquire a brand new car. It was a yellow Toyota Celica and there used to be actual wrestling matches to determine who was going to get to drive down with him. And I’m not kidding. Ask my buddy Wiggles who’s had back problems ever since.
The late great Rick Steffa used to boat us from the Sea Isle Marina to the Deauville and back on Sunday nights. But have I ever actually arrived in Sea Isle by water with bags in hand, ready to begin the weekend? No. But I’m going to. Maybe even this summer.
I have a friend named Bob who owns a small Cirrus prop plane. At the time, I had never been on a prop plane. Bob used to occasionally fly down the shore. I had become friends with Bob over a couple summers and I had never met anyone who would fly down the shore. Bob lived in Bucks County and he would fly out of the Northeast Philly Airport to the Woodbine Airport outside Sea Isle where he would have our friend Big John pick him up. He was always bugging me to accompany him on a flight, but I live in Mullica Hill NJ and it would take me longer to drive to that airport then it would to motor down to Sea Isle. What was the point? But, at this moment in my life, I had never been on a small prop plane, and the more Bob pestered me, the more I started to think that I would never have an opportunity like this again. An adventure! Well, I drive up to the Northeast on a Friday afternoon in July. Bob meets me in the parking lot and immediately points out that my bag is too large and it’s barely bigger than a backpack. Not a good start. We walk to the runway and I’ve never stood on a runway before, so even that’s a little odd. Then we get to the plane and I swear I’ve had Volkswagen Beetles bigger than this. This is not going well. “I’m not getting in that.” Say I. “Oh, don’t be such a wuss.” Says Bob. Only he doesn’t exactly use that word. Bob has now officially challenged me and in the “cockpit” I go. After much bending and twisting I get my 6’3” 240 pound body in the “seat. “ I’m practically in tears I’m so nervous. Then Bob turns the engine on and the propeller is so loud it takes me screaming “let me out!” ten times before Bob hears me. And out of the plane I went and back to my car where two hours later I was downing shots of tequila at Braca’s. And to this day I have never been on a small plane or helicopter. But I’m still doing shots.
HEY! I'M LOOKING FOR ALBUM COVERS. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CONDITION OF THE VINYL...
Click on Ray to hear the amazing ovation he got at the Pitman's Broadway Theatre on Saturday, February 10th, which was the first Saturday of our Super Bowl!
There is this amazing talent in the New York area by the name of Rachelle Garniez. She's an versatile singer who accompanies herself on piano, guitar, and, yes, accordion. She's a gifted songwriter with a tremendous sense of humor. She often performs at a really cool Village venue Pangea that seats maybe fifty that itself is worth checking out. Go to these sites for more info: www.rachellegarniezcom.virb.com & www.pangeanyc.com
You can take an inexpensive tour of RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL that's well worth it.
Check out MASH ARMY & NAVY on 8th Ave between 45 & 46th streets. A blast from the past!
Folks are always asking me about piano bars in Manhattan. There's two I would recommend and they couldn't be any bit different. DON'T TELL MAMA is on 46th St between 8 & 9th Avenues. It's a comfortable narrow long bar where you either sit at thee bar or at a table. They have a singing piano player and every fourth song or so a member of the bar or serving staff will get up and sing a three song set. And sometimes a member of the audience will get up at the mic and sing. And they have awesome food also. It's a really fun joint, but completely different from MARIE'S CRISIS CAFE which is at 59 Grove St in the Village. (Make sure you have the address handy before you get in the cab.) MARIE'S is a tiny hole in the wall basement club where there is a piano player but no professional singer. YOU are the singer. It's insane. People (like my nutty wife) go there TO sing. There's no microphone and literally 150 people or so will be singing at the top of their lungs to some Broadway tune Which, by the way, IS ALL Marie's does. They don't mix in pop tunes like MAMA does. The two couldn't be any different from each other and any more fun if a piano bar is your bag.
A HOTEL TO STAY AT? We always use some hotel site and often stay at one of these two hotels which I would both recommend. THE BELVEDERE on West 48th St is clean with a nice lobby and it's very convenient to Broadway and many clubs and bars. THE WARWICK is pricier, but still affordable when you go through Expedia. It's at 54th & 6th and many famous folks (like the Beatles and Liz Taylor have stayed there.
As obvious as this sounds, you can spend a couple hours exploring Central Park and never get bored.
LEXINGTON CANDY SHOP on Lexington between 82 & 83rd St. has been opened since 1925 and is a don't miss trip.
BIG ONION WALKING TOURS are a lot of fun and reasonably priced. I have taken many of them and they never disappoint.
54 BELOW on 54th St. is literally the basement of the famous Studio 54 disco. It's a terrific place to see anybody. Top notch club.
Finally made it to BIRDLAND for one of those CAST PARTY shows. What a great time and the sight lines are excellent. Legendary jazz artists perform there and if you ever thought about seeing one of them at BIRDLAND, do it.
A BRONX TALE the musical is really good. I wasn't expecting much and I was very entertained.
You can get a really good cheese steak at 99 MILES TO PHILLY at 94 3rd Avenue. The owner is from Philly.
LETS CALL IN SICK!
Philly wins 56 to 45! (There was no "X")
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