It’s been said that Mexican juggler Rudy Cárdenas rehearsed 9-5 everyday, then went on and performed his act in the evening. Now that’s dedication.
During his long career, Cárdenas was a major star of stage and TV variety shows, from the 1950s-1980s, and he was regularly considered the world’s greatest juggler. But don’t take my word for it, judge for yourself.
This week, I’ve been wandering around DM Towers dressed like this. While it’s been fun to whack about with a 9-iron, I doubt I looked as cool (or as cheesy) as these two guys: Donald Sutherland and Elliott Gould in Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H.
M*A*S*H was the first ‘X’ certificate film I sneaked into, when I was about 14. It was on a re-release with the pornographically titled The Last Hard Men, which was (disappointingly) a western starring Charlton Heston, James Coburn and Barbara Hershey. An interesting double bill that nearly explains what was good and bad about the seventies
Garrett McNamara pushed the farther reaches of the envelope this past Monday when he rode a wave believed to be 100 feet off the shore of Nazare, Portugal. It could be his second world record ride at this location. The 45-year-old surfer from Hawaii had a Zen approach to the challenge:
I was totally in the moment. PCP – present, connected and protected.
When I got on the board and they pulled me up with tow rope everything just felt right, it was like magic.”
The question being asked by many folks, including surfing contest director Bill Sharp, is “How do you measure a wave that doesn’t break?”
Here’s some breathtaking footage of Big Monday in Nazare.
There are some things that enrich our lives so much upon learning of them, we wonder how we ever functioned without knowledge of their existence: Cross-dressing luchadors is one of those things.
In this video, we see “Pimpinela Escarlata” at her most fabulous, battling “Pasion Kristal” and “Yuriko,” alongside “La Braza.” I’m not totally up on every aspect of the gender politics of luchadors, but apparently cross-dressing is commonplace for wrestlers that are more charismatic than athletic, so to speak.
Like luchador culture in general, it’s very rooted in theater and spectacle, just with hefty dollops of added camp and the fabulosity of drag. Frequently, the drag wrestlers compete in women’s matches as well. Most recently, “Pimpinela Escarlata” lost to a woman wrestler called “Sexy Star,” which resulted in Escarlata’s head being shaved.
Real men do cry, as the legendary Rod Stewart proved last night, when he burst into tears after his beloved Celtic F.C. beat ‘the world’s best soccer team’ Barcelona, 2-1, at their stadium in Glasgow.
While some wags thought Mr. Stewart must have lost his wallet to elicit such a response, I can attest, as a fellow Celtic supporter, tears of joy were more than understandable after such a tense and exciting, Champions League game. Now, here’s to the next one.
Police in the Philadelphia area have busted a heroin dealer selling LeBron James-branded skag:
LeBron James has endorsed McDonald’s, Nike and State Farm, but there’s one product right now on the streets of Philadelphia carrying his name that he most certainly did not endorse - heroin.
Upper Darby police said that they busted a major heroin dealer from Philadelphia on Thursday who had 140 packets of the deadly drug - all of which were stamped with the silhouette of a basketball player and the name “LeBron James.”
“I don’t think LeBron James would be too happy with this drug-dealer dude using his name on these street bags,” said Upper Darby Police Superintendent Michael Chitwood.
Probably not. What’s next, Usain Bolt brand crystal meth? (“The Fastest Speed in the World!”)
And speaking of meth, since when is heroin blue? This looks like something Walter White cooked up.
The suspected dealer is being held on a $250,000 cash bond.
Poor guy. I’m sure all he wanted was to talk to the founder of The Modern Lovers, but all he got was Richman’s now notorious silent treatment. I’ve heard quite a few journalists and fans revel in some variation of this same story, delighting in the perceived eccentricity of a man who says he’s taking care of his voice and avoids contact with crowds if he can help it.
For the record, I’ve seen Jonathan Richman twice (once for his Because Her Beauty Is Raw and Wild tour- amazing). He made quite a bit of whispered small talk and took pictures with my friend and me. Maybe his voice is sensitive, maybe he has social anxiety, maybe he just prefers fans to sweaty music journalists trying to get an interview. Regardless, in my book, he seems nothing short of a swell guy with a couple of lovely idiosyncrasies.
Dangerous Minds is a compendium of oddities, pop culture treasures, high weirdness, punk rock and politics drawn from the outer reaches of pop culture. Our editorial policy, such that it is, reflects the interests, whimsies and peculiarities of the individual writers. And sometimes it doesn't. Very often the idea is just "Here's what so and so said, take a look and see what you think."
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