Saturday, June 27, 2009

Steve Perry: the Man is Ageless

If you've ever seen a picture of Steve Perry during his Journey days and one of him now--even if it's from a few years ago--then you've no doubt noticed that he looks, well, the same. Wanna know why? It's because the man is ageless. It's a well-known scientific fact that if you're Portuguese and Steve Perry, you will never age, ever. In the same way that he doesn't need sunscreen because of his genetic supply of SPF 85, Steve Perry doesn't need to worry about anti-aging treatments. If he were to style his hair and wear the same outfits as he sported during his Journey days, you would think that you stepped through some portal back into 1983. But you didn't step through a time portal; you just came face-to-face with the awesomeness that is the Lover of Many, Father of None. It's an awesomeness that's often imitated, but never replicated. Recognize and respect.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

R.I.P. Michael Jackson

I know this blog is about Steve Perry, but damn, Michael Jackson is dead! How can I not address it? The man had his demons, but his impact on music and pop culture is impressive, and for him to pass so suddenly like that is...sad.

Below is a video of one of my favorite Michael Jackson songs. R.I.P. Michael.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Latest Steve Perry Sighting


According to this blog, this picture documents a Steve Perry sighting made back in March of this year. Thoughts? Methinks he's not lookin' too bad for, what, sixty? Of course with him being Portuguese and Steve Perry it shouldn't come as a surprise: the man is ageless. It's a fact. Look out for a future post that goes into this further.

I've also heard that he's been spotted at Disneyland, which I love. I wonder which ride is his favorite? The spinning teacups?

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Ever Wonder What it Would be Like to Hang Out With Steve Perry?

And no, I'm not talking about in a sexual way. Get your mind out of the gutter! I just mean spending the day with Steve, platonically, crusin' around and seeing what mischief you could get into. And trust me, there will be lots of cruisin'...(insert Wayne's World dream sequence)

Steve rolls up to your place at around 11a.m. in his fully restored red 1963 Ford Falcon Convertible. He doesn't obnoxiously honk at you from the street, but he doesn't get out and ring the doorbell either. He knows you'll sense his presence. That's how good he is. So he just sits, patiently waiting for you, bobbing his head to the sounds of Outkast being poured out of his stereo speakers. Sure enough, within five minutes of his arrival, you in fact do sense his presence and bound out of your house and into the passenger side with the enthusiasm of a five year-old on Christmas day. He smiles at you, says, "What's up?" adjusts his Ray Bans, smoothes his brilliantly glowing man-hair and puts the car in gear.

"Are we going to the beach?" you shout over the wind and the song "Roses" as you clutch the bag containing your beach towel, sunscreen and swimsuit he told you to bring.

Steve just smiles knowingly and replies, "You'll see."

Sure enough, about an hour and a half later, you do arrive at the coast, but Steve doesn't park the car just yet. He prefers to cruise strip of road parallel to the water, pointing out interesting landmarks.

"I actually got into a fight there once," he says, pointing to a little shack called The Undertow.

"Like a real fight?" you ask increduously. You can't imagine this man fighting anybody. He's just too...cool.

He chuckles. "Yeah. Guy was just being a jackass for no reason. Giving people a hard time just because he could."

You want to hear more of the story, want to know how, exactly, Steve Perry, former frontman of Journey, was able to kick a guy's ass in a bar that looks like it should be condemned, but he doesn't offer up anymore details and you don't ask. This is the first thing you learn about rolling with Steve: he only tells you what you need to know, sometimes for your own safety, sometimes because he knows you wouldn't be able to handle the whole truth. He does it for your own good.

"I used to study transcendental meditation at that place," he says, pointing to a yoga/meditation studio.

"Used to?" you ask. You marvel at the man beside you. Like an onion, he keeps revealing layers of himself you never knew existed.

"Yeah," he says nonchalantly. "Now I'm a Guru."

You're rendered speechless and spend the rest of the adventure down the strip just gaping, looking like a fish gasping for air. Steve finally turns toward the water and parks his car, right there on the sand. He jumps out of the car and opens his trunk and asks you,"Ever surf before?"

You snap out of your amazed trance. Alright! Now we're talking! A surfing adventure with Steve Perry! However, you've never been surfing and don't really know how, which you reluctantly admit to him. He only grins in response.

"That's alright," he says. "I'll teach you!"

The two of you spend well into the afternoon surfing. Steve is an excellent teacher, knowledgeable, patient, and you begin to get the hang of the sport. You're riding the waves, hanging ten, and Steve also goes full-throttle, showing just how good a surfer he really is. He does flips and spins, his feet never leaving the board; at one point he disappears, and when you see him again, he's holding a baby dolphin. In short, he's surfing circles around you (literally and figuratively), but you don't really care; you're having too much fun.

It's only when you collapse on the beach later that afternoon that you notice your stomach grumbling. Loudly. Steve notices too, and he says, "Let's grab a bite to eat. I know a place." You guys hop back in the convertible (after Steve reassures you that, "No, man, you don't need to put a towel on the seat") and head back down the strip and park at a steakhouse. As soon as you walk in, you're greeted with a commotion. Everybody who works there seems to know Steve, and all are clamoring to serve him.

"Steve! So good to see you again!" says the host. "Your table is ready." The two of you follow him to a private room, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows and filled with light. On the way, you pass by the bar where the bartender says, "Steve, my man! The usual?" Even the entire kitchen staff stops what it's doing to wave and clap. When the host seats you, he says, "Your meal will be out in a moment. Just how you like it." Steve notices your confused expression and says, "I always order the same thing. Don't worry, you'll like it." You ask him how he came to know everybody in the joint, and he chuckles. "Know those contests where if you eat an entire steak dinner, you get a free meal next time you come in? I ate two of those one night. I had the munchies like crazy."

Before you can reply, the food comes out: two thick, juicy rib-eye steaks with sides of mashed potatoes and gravy, doughy rolls, friend okra and squash. The bartender brings Steve a drink, and you notice that it's a Manhattan on the rocks. Steve wasn't kidding when he promised you you would like the food; one bite in and you're convinced this is the best dinner you've ever eaten and you ever will eat. It's like Heaven inside of your mouth. At one point you could swear you saw a halo form around your plate.

After dinner, you and Steve cruise back down the strip, this time listening to Nelly's "Hot in Herre," eventually arriving at The Undertow, that mystical place where the epic battle between good and evil (read: where Steve Perry kicked some lowlife ass and served it up for supper) took place. The joint is jumping with Jimmy Buffet music, and the two of you sidle up to the bar and begin pounding back drinks like a couple of frat boys on spring break. Steve orders an Irish Car Bomb, orders you to time him, and proceeds to chug the entire thing in two seconds flat. You try to show him up by chugging a Yager Bomb, but your performance isn't quite as eloquent. It takes you a minute, and you choke halfway through. But Steve just laughs and slaps you on the back. Suddenly a big, burly man with a mullet and mustache approaches Steve. He's wearing worn and faded jeans, a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off and a scowl that could make Lucifer himself cower in fear. You're alarmed; he looks like he wants to start trouble. Steve is as cool as a cucumber, though.

"You're pretty good with the booze," growls the man, "but you ain't shit on the dance floor."

Steve looks the guy straight in the eye and says, "You have no idea what I'm capable of." It's so grave it sounds like a threat. He's chillingly calm, like a serial killer going in for the...er...kill.

The man sizes Steve up and says, "It's go time." A hush falls over everybody in the bar as Steve and the man make their way to the dance floor up front. Steve lets his opponent go first, and the man points at the DJ. "Boot Scoot Boogey" starts playing, and the man proceeds to drunkenly perform the dance. It's downright awful, painful to watch, but you can't look away. You see Steve chuckle and shake his head. This guy was clearly an amateur.

After the man wraps up his convulsing (which is what it looks like), he challenges Steve: "Let's see you try and top that!" Steve shrugs and makes his way to the center of the dance floor. He gives the DJ a nod and Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" starts pumping through the sound system. Steve is as smooth as butter on the dance floor, showing off some sweet break dancing moves as gracefully as a ballerina. The crowd immediately goes into a frenzy, clapping, cheering and yelling, "Aw, shit, son!" You can see Steve's opponent start to shrink in size as he watches, mortified, from the shadows. The song then morphs into "Thriller," and Steve proceeds to perform the entire Thriller dance. The crowd goes wild, and by the time the performance is over, Steve's opponent looks thoroughly humbled. He shakes Steve's hand and admits grudgingly, "Wow, you're good. I don't think I'll ever be that good." Steve looks him straight in the eye and says, "Don't Stop Believin'. BOOM! You just got Journey-ed." He then walks out of the bar, and you follow.

You're high on the excitement of the evening, but Steve never loses his composure. He's still calm and relaxed, and you both walk across the street to the beach where you sit in the sand in silence for some time. Eventually, Steve pulls out a fat roach, lights it, and asks, "Wanna hit?" You accept, and the rest of the night is spent getting high and mellowing out. This has been the greatest day of your life.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

A Smile to End the Weekend...

So I'm wasting time on YouTube, waiting for it to be dusk so that I can go take a picture of the city skyline for my photography class, when I come across this little gem. Steve Perry and John Cain are waiting to do a radio interview and in the meantime, decide to do a little improv. It made me giggle, and the slideshow has some really great pre-Journey photos of the Lover of Many, Father of None...who has the sense of humor of a fourteen year-old boy, it turns out.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Even Steve Perry is Getting in on the Pedamundo Action!

If any of you have been on Twitter at all within the past few days, you might have noticed "Pedamundo" on the list of trending topics. If you don't know what it is, it is a fake holiday created by John Mayer (@johncmayer) based on a Spanish word he made up to mean "drunken party world." It takes place the weekend before Father's Day, starting tonight, and is the latest buzz on the internet. In short: it's our generation's Festivus.

"What does this made up holiday have to do with Steve Perry?" you might be asking yourself. "It just sounds like some fool-hardy shenanigan the kids taking part in."

Well, dear reader, let me clue you in: Steve Perry, in his infinite and awesome Perryness, is plugged in to what the kids are doing these days (see my posts about his iTunes playlist and his being a fan of Outkast if you don't believe me). It's what makes him hip and relevant, so you know that he'll be raising a glass or two this weekend. He'll take part in the festivities with the enthusiasm of man forty years his junior--and be able to party harder. I mean, it's Steve Perry--the name itself conjures up a man who is pure magic! Steve could chug five Irish Car Bombs and down three tequila shots and still be sober enough to be a designated driver. When he participates in a keg stand, he drinks the whole keg and finishes with an exquisite and perfectly-pitched performance of "Be Good to Yourself." And don't even bother going to head-to-head with him in Beer Pong--he'll win every goddamn time.

And ladies--unlike most men, alcohol doesn't affect Steve's performance, if you know what I mean. He might have you wait until he finishes his Guinness, but afterwards, you can be sure that you'll be treated to the most energetic, Perry-induced-orgasmic lovemaking you'll ever have. You might be rendered slightly retarded and walk a little funny afterwards, but it'll be worth it. And for those who aren't with him physically--you'll still get his PIOs. He's just that good.

Pedamundo won't know what hit it after Hurricane Perry makes landfall. All it will see are the effects of the storm: very satisfied women, a critical shortage of alcohol and a pair of nut-cruncher jeans. That's just how Steve rolls.

A Little Piece of Me Just Died

Whenever my father gets to talking about the record albums he used to own, it breaks my heart. He had some good albums: Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon; Alice Cooper's School's Out; The Rolling Stone's Some Girls. But during a phone conversation earlier today, he revealed something that I believe caused a little piece of me to die: he had Journey's Captured album.

Now, in my father's defense, his reasons for getting rid of his substantial collection made sense: they took up too much room; he only liked about a handful of songs from each album; and some he didn't like at all, he got them because my mom wanted them (Captured fell into this category--so he claims). So he thought he would save some space and make a little extra money by recording the songs and albums he did want on cassette tapes and then selling the records. He couldn't have possibly foreseen that twenty years down the road records would make a comeback as vintage collector's items or that his then three year-old daughter would grow up to have similar musical tastes and would want them.

Still, though, it kills me. My dad said all of his records were in good condition when he got rid of them, and I believe him. He has a slight compulsion when it comes to keeping things neat and orderly, and he takes very good care of his possessions. I believe that if he had kept his collection, they would be in pristine condition (excluding whatever signs of age they might have had). I mean, an original Journey album--on vinyl! How cool is that?

I know that if I really wanted to, I could go on eBay or to a record store and get Captured, and I probably will. I have a designated "record wall" in my apartment on which the likes of MeatLoaf, Blue Oyster Cult and Robert Goulet currently reside. But it's not the same--it lacks that magic that happens when a family member gives you a family antique or something rife with sentimental value. They pass on a legacy. I won't be the recipient of any legacies by buying it from a vendor. But I did learn a valuable lesson from Pops and his records: I will never, ever get rid of my CDs. For one, I like them, and listen to them frequently, but perhaps more importantly, I'll probably pass them on to my kids (after I die, of course--you think I'm giving those little hooligans my prized CD collection while I'm still breathing?). Those will be the CDs they will have grown up on, and perhaps one day would want to own. Including Journey. :-)

Oh, and Pops, if you're reading this--I know you're a closet Journey fan. Come on out and join the madness. :-)

Thursday, June 11, 2009

And Now For a Little Something Visual...

Okay, so this isn't much of a post, but I figured that since my weekend will officially start after 5:30 this afternoon, I would kick it off with a little something visual. So I present to you Steve Perry's "Foolish Heart" video. I have become obsessed with this song as of late. I just love it. I love the emotion in it, and it evokes memories of when I was little, riding in the car with my parents, and this song would come on the radio. It's also a good rainy day song. I also love the video; I love its simplicity, the fact that there's nothing to watch except Steve, singing alone on a stool in an empty auditorium. I love the emotion on Steve's face as he sings, and then how the camera pans out after he's sung a few bars.

So without further ado...



P.S. Think I wrote the phrase "I love" enough times? No? I LOVE THIS SONG!

P.P.S. If anybody could please tell me how to embed videos in Blogger, I would greatly appreciate it! :-)

Edit: So apparently I'm a retard and didn't play around with Blogger long enough. Embedding isn't that hard after all.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Reason #4,654,459 Why Steve Perry is a God Among Men

He manages to pull off what are otherwise known as fashion no-nos. Take the above picture, for example: by tying a sweater around his neck and wearing a denim jacket, it seems as if he's confused by what he wants his outfit to say. Does he want to come across as a yuppie? Or as a tough guy? In addition, both elements are way too big and bulky for his petite frame, adding visual weight instead of reducing it.

Yet he pulls it off! Let's be honest here: it's Steve Perry, he can wear whatever the fuck he wants. Who the hell are we to question his choice in clothes? After all, nothing he wears is a mistake. He chooses his outfits with the precision of a sniper going after a target. He wants to send out mixed signals. He wants to keep us guessing. He refuses to be pigeonholed into a stereotype. It's like he's saying, "Try to guess. I dare ya." He doesn't want us to know what his body really looks like, if only for the sake of surprise. Wearing bulky outfits like this one gives him the freedom to bust out in his signature leotard/tight jeans or tight jeans/leather jacket/no shirt combos, thus surprising (and simultaneously turning on) his audience.

Steve knows what's up. He's nobody's fool.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Steve Perry's Secret to Hitting Those High Notes



I know this is the second post devoted solely to the tightness of Steve's nut crunchers, but gee wiz, how did he not damage some internal organs with his pants? No wonder he's able to hit those high notes! It's all part of the secret formula:

God-Given Talent + Extremely Tight Pants = Being Able to Hit Notes That Are Otherwise Inhumanly Possible

Looking at the snugness of his jeans make my nuts hurt. And I'm a girl. What does that tell you?

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Steve Perry and Arrested Development: A Winning Combination

Now I know what you may be thinking when you visited this blog today (or whenever): a twofer? This almost never happens! Is it my birthday or something? And what does Arrested Development have to do with Steve Perry?

First of all, it's not that rare of an occurrence. I've posted two (sometimes three!) entries on the same day. Calm down. Breathe in a paper bag if you need to. Secondly, I don't know, is it your birthday? Only you would know that. If it is, happy birthday with an extra-large PIO from Steve to you, and if it isn't, you still get an extra-large PIO. You just can't have too many of those. Thirdly, you may not be able to bridge the gap between Arrested Development and Steve Perry, but I did, so check it...

My friend Brett is convinced that Steve Perry is a fan of Arrested Development and you know what? I agree with him. After all, Arrested Development is hilarious, brilliant and awesome all the way around, and since Steve is also brilliant and awesome, it would make sense that he would be a fan. I imagine that he owns all three seasons and watches them frequently. I wonder what his favorite character is...G.O.B.? Or maybe Tobias? I can see him as a Tobias-type of guy.

Now, keeping Steve's fandom in mind, I think it's only fitting that Mitch Hurwitz give him a cameo in the Arrested Development movie. He could be a Tobias mentor! Even though he isn't an actor, per se, Tobias could be inspired by his performance both on stage and in Journey's music videos and ask to study under him. (See what I did there? Because the running joke is that Tobias is gay and--aw, forget it.) Hilarity would ensue! Or maybe G.O.B. could use him in one of his illusions (not tricks; those are what whores do for money...or candy). And Lindsay could try to seduce him! See, there are no limits to what Steve could do with the Bluths! He'd be a perfect cast! He and Arrested Development are a winning combination!

Seen and Heard

Location: Czar nightclub in Tampa, FL

Heard: "Don't Stop Believin'"

Okay, so technically this wasn't a random act of Journey magic (a friend of mine requested the song) but it was still amazing. Last night, a group of us went to Czar, a Russian-themed night club. The DJ's theme must have been Old School Music because we heard songs like "Bust a Move" and "PYT." I told the group that if I heard Journey, I would have to dance, so one of my friends went and requested "Don't Stop Believin'." A few songs later, we heard the unmistakeable opening bars.

None of us danced; we were all content to remain at the bar, pounding back drinks like alcoholics who fell off the wagon and sing along. It was awesome.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Steve, PLEASE Reunite With Journey!


So I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring of internet pleas and open letters to Steve Perry and/or Journey and compose my own personal request, to Steve, to pretty please, with sugar on top and a pat on the ass, REUNITE WITH JOURNEY. However, unlike all those other inquiries floating around out there, I thought I'd take a different approach and highlight some of the more obscure reasons why he and the band should reunite.

Reason #1. The fanbase. If Steve and Journey were to reunite, they would be the biggest-selling rock group out there, guaranteed. The reason? In addition to the loyal fans they made during their hey- day, they have a whole new audience: Generation Y. See, we didn't have the privilege of seeing Journey live when they were touring back in the seventies and eighties. We either weren't born or were too young to really appreciate the band and Steve Perry. We discovered the magic of Journey via radio syndication and old concert footage aired on VH-1 (back when it actually aired music and music-related programming instead of crap like Rock of Love). Steve, if you were to reunite with the band, you would have double the fanbase, which would lead to multi-platinum album sales and sold-out concerts. It would be just like the old days!

Reason #2 dovetails on reason #1. Steve, the longer you and Journey remain "divorced," the more people you're preventing from having awkward first-time sexual experiences to Journey songs. Oh, sure, we Gen Yers could have lost our virginity to syndicated songs like "Faithfully" and "Open Arms," but it's not the same as being able to one day tell our children, "I remember when this song came out. I gave it up to your father in the backseat of his Saturn. Brings me back every time." Instead, we had to lose it to musicians like Ja Rule, Train, or, god forbid, boy bands! Please, don't make the next generation suffer like we had to!

Now, Steve, I'm going to bring up a topic that might be a little sensitive, but bear with me: is it your hip that's preventing you from getting back together with Journey? I know that you had hip surgery, and according to that old episode of Behind the Music you made a full recovery, but does it still give you a little trouble from time to time? Is that why, Steve? Because don't let that hold you back. I, and I'm sure any one of your other loyal fans, would be happy to provide acommodation. Do you need a wheelchair for the rough times? Crutches? Icy Hot? A personal driver? I'd drive you around in my Ford Focus (it's a nice car!). We'll provide a way, Steve. We'll provide a way.

Steve, if you ever stumble upon this little spot on the web, please give this request careful consideration. It would be amazing to have you back.

Gorgeous Man-Hair Alert!

Alright, kids, get ready to be jealous because Steve's man-hair is in rare form in this vid. His shiny, touchable locks gently wafting in the breeze around his face may give you the urge to run to the nearest CVS or Target and wipe them out of hair care products, but resist! Besides, your results will never even come close, so don't torture yourself.

Also, prepare for one of the biggest PIOs in your life. The closeups of Steve mooning to the camera, plus shots of him dancing around wearing nothing but an open leather jacket and jeans, will send you over the edge.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFjKFDvyJ80

Enjoy!


Monday, June 1, 2009

Steve Perry's iTunes Playlist

In a comment on the previous post, The Pride of Hanford mentioned Steve Perry's iTunes playlist. Since he has a diverse taste in music, I was curious to see what all was on there, so I downloaded iTunes (yes, just for that--don't judge me) and decided to post it. Below are the songs, and his reason for including them on the list:

Clocks: "This song takes me back to when I was hanging on the sound stage of the film Monster. It's a timeless tune!"

Baby I Need Your Loving: "When I went to my first Prom. I was too young to drive so we double dated with an older couple, and from their backseat, I first heard this song. Sexy."
(I think the image of a young, inexperienced Steve in one of those tuxes with the frills deserves a resounding AWWWWWW--wait, what am I thinking? It's STEVE PERRY! He's never been inexperienced!)

Can't Find My Way Home: "When I first came to LA to try and get signed to a record label, this song was really big and it still reminds me of what those times were like, and how happy I am that my childhood dream came true!"

Hollaback Girl: "When I first heard its drum pocket jump through my car radio, I loved it right away and then I found out it was Gwen, well...I really love her...A LOT!"
(What I hope he'll one day say about this blog, heh heh. I know, I know, keep dreaming, right?)

Don't Disturb This Groove: "This is reall old school R&B, very cool track that was here and gone but is still one of my favorites."

In the Yard, Behind the Church: "I can't say enough about E, he's one of the best songwriters I've heard in years. This song has some of the most brilliant lyrics and his voice is very sincere!"

It's a M**********r: "How can you not love this song. E is real Ball-Z."
(Oh, snap, look at Steve throwin' out the punz!)

Hot in Herre: When I first heard this on the radio, I really liked the, It's getting hot in here, I think I'll take my clothes off chorus."
(Is it just me, or does Steve seem to be a fan of all things sexy and nude? Hmmm...)