Whoops!  Never published this!

From December 4th to December 21st we of the Zappa faith celebrate Zappadan.  The 17 days bracketing FZ’s birth and death.

Frank (NOT Francis) Vincent Zappa was born on December 21, 1940.  He was six months older than my mother, but seemed way younger.

He was one weird cat.  That’s why I love him.  He believed that life was a “project/object” always under transformation never finished.

He had a filthy, witty, but often misogynistic and homophobic mouth.  He was tough on his musicians to the point that the members of his band were constantly changing.  Many people (Arthur Tripp) claim that he stole a lot of their ideas, while many others wondered where he came up with so much stuff (Flo and Eddy).  Nobody’s perfect.

He had a quick mind and knew music to his soul, for a man who barely finished high school, he knew a lot of shit.  Give a listen to Watermelon in Easter Hay from Joe’s Garage (just bear with it through the “Central Scrutinizer” rap) on the official FZ website.  It is a work of art.  He did a lot of that– way more than the “I’m the Slime”, “Don’t Eat that Yellow Snow”, “Dancin’ Fool”, stuff that anyone who’s familiar with him at all might know (hi, Mom!).

He believed that Humor Belonged in Music.  Just check out his first TV appearance on the Steve Allen show in 1963 (I was almost 2 then, I remember it well).  Great stuff.

Frank died on December 4, 1993, 17 days before his 53rd birthday.  People I knew and had not heard from in years called me that day to express their condolences.  Yeah, that’s how big he was to me.  He helped me to take a “fuck it” attitude on life when I really needed to, which is all the time.

Deadheads got their Jerry; but he was no Frank.

Sorry for the (day) late post.  Technical problems on the Windows front are being resolved.  Welcome home to Windows– even a crash here is better than a “business as usual” fatal oops on a CrApple box.