Tag Archives: coke

Your memory banks have forgotten this funk.

Dave the Cobra

If this isn’t the best MLB/Parliament/Jimmy Buffett collab post you’ve seen today, please keep it to yourself and let me keep up the charade. Don’t hurt my feelings.

Citizens of the universe, recording angels, I have returned to claim the pyramids and also to remind you that Dave “The Cobra” Parker fucking ruled and I absolutely HAD to do a tribute post. (T-shirt courtesy of Homage – thanks, guys!; glide in my stride and dip in my hip courtesy of genetics – thanks, Mom and Dad!)

I have zero allegiance to the Pittsburgh baseball Pirates, but I know the importance of names like Stargell, Clemente, and McCutchen, and I damn sure know the importance of Dave and his shirt of interplanetary galactic radness made possible by the combined efforts of the cotton industry, the really pure coke of ’70s northeast America, and George Stanley Clinton, jr. I just watched the 30 for 30 about the ’89 World Series, during which I realized that Rickey Henderson isn’t the only Athletic I adore – Dave was also on that squad that swept SF, prompting me to remember the existence of this picture and then do a tribute to him.

[I didn’t have a Pirates uni to put behind me like Dave in his picture, but the A1A album by Jimmy Buffett will do, as it contains “A Pirate Looks at Forty” (the song that made me realize Buffett can write a great song and is more than just “the ‘Margaritaville’ guy who sometimes gets thrown out of Heat games”)].

 

Gram Parsons, GP (Reprise, 1973)

GP 1

15-year-old me was heavily into eyeliner, Howard Zinn, and magnetic sad boys who’d never treat me right but would never bore me. My little brother was almost named Gram, though, so this tendency isn’t completely my fault; hips aren’t the only thing I inherited from my mom, youfeelme.

I’ve since come to my senses and stopped being a jerk – fetishizing fucked-up brain chemistry/sorrow is just a gross thing to do – but my fondness for Gram remains and I’ll prove it by singing every goddamn word on all of his records and wearing his name on my chest. (Thank you, Worn Free!)

PS, fun fact: it turns out EVERY song called “A Song for You” makes me break down and cry.