I attempt to lift my pen peck my keyboard today with a heavy heart, and an empty stomach. For, alas, two staples of my life's diet are no more.
R.I.P., NIN. And Luby's, 4:45 p.m. dinners will never taste the same.
Trent Reznor, one of the most chaotic, rhythmic, unique and dark noisemakers of a generation, disbanded Nine Inch Nails last month. Just as I was emerging from that coma, an even worse diagnosis: Marriage.
The freakiest of front men is selling his soul to some chick named with the very made-up name of Mariqueen Maandig. They say she's a Playboy model, but my needle doesn't move. I also know that if and when we ever see NIN again, it'll be sans edge because, ya know, that's what women do.
Which brings me to chicks with blue hair ...
Honestly, I grew up a Wyatt's Cafeteria man. But in it's wake I deferred to Luby's, where I ingested many a LuAnn Platter and once even courted a philly.
But today comes news that Luby's is closing 25 underperforming restaurants, including eight in the Metroplex.
Me? I'd ditch the waaaay underperforming DART Green Line and spend the budget windfall on an anullment for Reznor and financial aid for more important institutions like Luby's and Krispy Kreme.
Attending two virtual funerals makes me sad, yet also reflective. Of a better, simpler time when food and music had an odd way of joining forces to help shape a dorky boy's youth. Nothing I wouldn't give for one more afternoon jostling Grandma's walker so I could cut in line for the delicious, decadent combo of some chicken pot pie and a side order of Head Like a Hole.
Or ...
*Peter Frampton & Bonanza
*Journey & Bennigan's
*Kiss & Chip's Old Fashioned Hamburgers
*Depeche Mode & Shakey's Pizza Parlor
*George Jones & Southern Kitchen
