Orleans Parish DA candidate Ralph Capitelli just got a poll back from a Washington, D.C., polling firm headed by former Louisiana lawmaker Ron Faucheux that has Capitelli leading the pack. I confirmed the results with Faucheux, who recently was named president of Clarus Research Group in D.C.

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I’m just pushing this one back up into the local blogosphere. Toby Keith is to country music what John Edwards is to the Democratic Party: an embarrassment (if my comparison doesn’t work just substitute either David Vitter or Larry Craig for John Edwards and…well, you can figure it out). Matter of fact, Toby Keith is an embarrassment to all of us who walk on two legs, and that includes those little poodles in the circus.

     Lord David over at Humid City first brought Keith’s latest transgression to my attention yesterday, so I’ll just point towards his fine post, so we never forget what an idiot Keith truly is. And please tell me, Willie, why you co-starred in a movie with that guy?

In 2007, Radiohead made giving away your music the cause célèbre of record-industry haters from Tucson to Tokyo. In 2008, the New Orleans singer/songwriter John Michael Rouchell offers another novel nail for the RIAA coffin: You and I are the new Rick Rubin. Last January, Rouchell began writing and recording a new song each and every week; and every week this year, he’s offering those songs for free at his Web site, in a cleverly designed notebook concept à la Juno or Napoleon Dynamite. Anyone who donates at least $10 to the project gains access to higher quality files, promotional giveaways and event invites. Come December, when the cache totals 52 songs, that same pool of donors will be asked to vote their favorite 12 selections onto MyNameIsJohnMichael’s full-length album — effectively turning the famously caustic A&R process into a democratic love-in. As for those songs? Even with Rouchell’s repertoire-purging gimmick, they’re mostly quite good: hook-strong, guitar-based numbers propelled by the irregular drumbeats of Eric Rogers, skin hitter du jour from that bastion of the irregular drumbeat, Antenna Inn. “Every Night of the Year,” from way back in week five, ranks among the best. A bottom-heavy, 1-2 stomp tethers an “Oh Yoko!” strum to Rouchell’s Bright Eyed vocals: “Every night of the year/The writer confronts his fear/Has he done all he could?/And will he be understood?/Or will his work be a dime-store luxury?” And every week, piece by piece, a promising 2009 debut comes into better focus.

     MyNameIsJohnMichael plays the Circle Bar tonight at 10 p.m. and the House of Blues at 8 p.m. Sunday, Aug. 10.

As part of our regular season Saints coverage, we’ll be doing once-a-week (or maybe more) podcasts where we talk to local and national football experts about the Saints. Here is our first ever podcast featuring Bradley Handwerger of wwltv.com. You can read Bradley’s work over at the Eye on the Saints blog. Music is graciously provided by the local band Sick Like Sinatra, and I sincerely recommend checking out their MySpace.

Also, please excuse the excessive “ums” from me and that we haven’t nailed down a name. All of these things will be smoothed out shortly. This is why it’s still the preseason.

 

 Saints Podcast 8-8-08 with WWL's Brad Handwerger: Play Now | Play in Popup

What’s the one thing New Orleans doesn’t have enough of this summer? Levee protection? Road Home money? Political leadership? Guess again. According to the Audubon Institute, it’s BUGS. Their Entergy IMAX theater is currently screening Bugs! in 3D. In June, they opened the new Insectarium. Their advertising slogan? Infested with fun. Clever, huh? That might even make me grin in January or February when the weather is cool and the insect population is mostly dormant or deceased.

But this is August. This is New Orleans. Someone needs to tell the 80 bazillion dragonflies in my neighborhood that the Everglades is a bit to the east. The fire ant mounds along the levees look like small army encampments with troops massing for an all-out ground assault. CC Sabathia could pitch off some of the larger ones. In my office, there’s talk about battalions of exotic, futuristic grasshoppers armored in black leather, complete with red detailing, marching across highways in formation and shiny beetles shaped like bronze shields infiltrating people’s homes. After battling one of those metallic trespassers in my bathroom one night, I had a bug-filled nightmare that would have made Hitchcock proud. And the wasps? The country club in Greenwich Connecticut has nothing on us, not even on gin & tonic Tuesdays. Put it this way: if you’re watching Password and a contestant says “fun” when the clue is “infestation”, you can bet they’re not from New Orleans.

So no offense to the Audubon Institute and their crack marketing staff, but I won’t be stopping by to see, touch or taste any of their flying, crawling, hopping or slithering offerings just yet.