New Finds of Old Jeffy Originals

My old and good friend Loren Michaels.

When I first moved to California in 1986 he was the first true friend I made. A friend of T.C. Tahoe whom was the only person I knew at all in SoCal, Loren and I hit it off immediately. Here we are circa early '90's...note Jeffy still had orange hair. More significantly, note the ultra-hip Sherman and Peabody tie. That's right. We were cool.

As mentioned before here on this blog, Loren and I would get together and write songs. This was centuries before I myself could form a simple "G" chord, and Loren was the multi-instrumentalist in our little garage combo.

We started off writing a silly little tribute song to our friend Jerry Camarro (yes...as far as I knew, that was his real name) and then it took off from there.

We wrote a country song. Then a reggae song. Then a rap song. And on and on. When we had a half dozen or so that we would play at backyard BBQ's, we recorded a little album to annoy our friends and families with. Since we had covered so many genres of music from around the world, we called the album "Pissin' Off the World".

I haven't seen my old buddy Loren in about a decade, but thanks to the World-Wide-InnerWebs, we found each other again through Face (timewaster) Book. Loren lives in Las Vegas now. True it's only 4 hours away by car, but who knows the next time we'll bump heads.

Loren still had a copy of that tape though. Over 20 years old and getting warbly, he digitized the "Pissin' Off the World" master tapes. I'd like to share a few selections with you here.

Our first mega hit, a country love song already featured here. "Gimme A Woman", the song that would NOT die.

Here's one that has actually turned into a standard joke. I've seen this take used on TV and commercials lots of time. I believe we were the first though. "Rappin' Rabbis".

I also talked here about Loren's daughter Ashley. I used to babysit her and this is the lullabye I wrote one night. Recorded a la Rudy Vallee 1920's style..."Pookie Eyed Baby".

I was also deep into blues back then. So we wrote Ashley a blues song. The crying baby at the end is Ashley herself and there was no overdubbing. Ashley was on my lap during the recording, and perfectly on cue, she chimes in at the coda. "Blues Rockin' Baby".

Thanks Loren for hanging on to these. They are very raw and some cuts are down-right embarrassing...but that was us. Raw and embarrassing. And a whole lot of fun.

Talk to you soon.

Gimme A Woman - an Uncle Jeffy Classic!

As I referenced back in my "Pookie-Eyed Baby" post, about a zillion years ago I would whittle away the hours with my old pal Loren Christopher Michaels in his garage and write songs. A country song, a stripper-rock-&-roll song, a reggae song, a rap song, a 1920's style lullaby...most all with a humorous point of view.

At some point we had about 11 songs and we recorded a for-fun album for our friends, and going on the premise that we had covered every style of music, we titled the album "Walkin' Boy & The Scratch: Pissin' Off the World!".

Here's a re-imagining of the cover art work:

Loren was the musician on all tracks (I hadn't popped my guitar cherry yet) and I nick-named him "Walkin' Boy" as a reference to his fingers "walking" up and down the frets of the guitar. Pretty neo-pseudo-hip, huh?

Loren nick-named me "The Scratch" because, at the time I was working in a sandwich shop, and used to tell long drawn out stories at the end of the day, about how I had made the daily soup, the chili, the salsa, et al, from scratch. Pretty Alton-Brown-hip, huh?

I think the first song we truly collaborated on was "Gimme A Woman", the song you're about to see and hear.

I had made up the first stanza and was annoying people for months as I walked around singing it.

Over and over.

and over.

One night after I got off work, Loren and I got a silly bug up our kiesters to drive to Las Vegas. We had about 40 bucks between us, but seeing as I had to be back at work in 12 hours, we wouldn't be there long enough to spend much more than that anyway.

We got to Vegas about 10:30 p.m., wandered up and down the strip for 3 hours, then at 2 a.m. it was time to head back. This would give me time to shower and go make more soup at the sandwich shop.

On the way home we were both ready to sleep pretty hard. We were passing through Barstow, CA. and still had 2+ hours to get home. Knowing that the car couldn't drive itself, and feeling pretty punchy, we decided to finish the obnoxious, misogynistic, foul song I had been beating into the ground and my friends' heads for months, as an excercise to keep ourselves awake.

"Gimme A Woman" was born. Here it is:



This is not really a misogynistic song. It's a love song. All songs are love songs...you can't write a song unless you're in love.

So get over it.

Besides, we were just doing our job. Doing our best to piss off the whole world.

My "Poookie-Eyed Baby" ain't a baby no more.

Back in 1986, I found myself spending 8 hours or so in the waiting room of Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach with my friends TC Tahoe and Loren Christopher Michaels awaiting the birth of Loren's daughter. I was 23 years old.

This is that daughter of Loren Michaels and Lynn Splendid now. Ashley Cara Michaels...she's 23 years old.

What an odd rift in the time-space continuum, that she could be 23 years old suddenly, when I don't think I'm done being 23 yet.

Back then, I was pretty tight with this family. After Loren and Lynn's divorce, Loren got custody of me and I continued getting to be a part-time "Uncle" watching Ashley grow into a fine, smart and sweet girl through the very beginning of her "Tween" years.

She seemed to like everything. She liked reading, art, science, sports. I knew she was gonna be alright in this world.

During the days of Ashley's infancy, Loren and I were pre-occupied with writing songs together. I didn't play an instrument at the time, so I concentrated on lyrics, while Loren would collaborate lyrically with me and be the "axe" man. That's hip musician talk for "guitar player".

This is my buddy, Loren, "back in the day".

One night, Loren and Lynn had some engagement to go to, so in their youthful folly said, "Hey, let's get that stumble butt Jeff to babysit Ashley for us.". And they did. And I did.

It was a restless evening for the infant Ashley. You know the kind, when the child is just too tired to fall asleep? Try as I might I couldn't get her to stop crying and go to sleep. I wore out every lullaby my parents had taught me, nothing worked, so I began singing a new one I thought up out of my own head. I shoved together every comforting thing you might say to a child, and somehow it came out in rhyme.

After about 43 verses and a couple reprises, Ashley fell into blissful (for me or her you ask? I'm not sure) slumber.

That night when Loren and Lynn arrived home, I sang the song that could knock their baby girl out should she ever get this "pookie-eyed" tired again. Loren pulled out his guitar and a real song got born. Possibly the first I ever wrote beginning to end on my own.

Here's the song.



About a month ago, after about 8 years of estrangement (funny how things happen) I happened to find my old buddy Loren on that "finder of things past" FaceBook, who then hipped me to find Ashley (unseen in about 12 years) and then her Mom Lynn (possibly 20 years?).

Ashley and Lynn.


Ashley's grown into a young adventuresome woman. She's spent some time over on the "right" coast in Manhattan. Spent time in Europe, Africa and other places around the world.

She recently raised money for Greenpeace by walking from Newport Beach to San Francisco. Just the thought of that trek makes my feet sore. Good on ya girl!

Lynn, Ashley and family are leaving southern California in a few weeks, to begin the next chapter of their lives in Napa, California. Facebook got me back together with them in the nick of time, before they headed out.

I'm glad I found you again Lynn. Thanks for dinner last night and good conversation.

Ashley, I'm very proud of you. Keep having adventures and keep learning about all the beautiful places and people of the world. There is a place where the sidewalk ends...but you can fly past that boundary. You're not pookie-eyed or a baby anymore, but you'll always be my "Pookie-Eyed Baby" anyhow.