And so it begins...

Special thanks to Staten Island's Michael and Michelle Hyland for this wieneriffic interpretation of my billboard. M & M are loyal listeners to our Stuck in the '80s podcast, in which nitrate-rich lunchmeats are a common theme. The original billboard was meant to promote The Big Showoff extravaganza. But hey, this might finally land me some serious endorsement cash.

The Jeff in Cuba Playlist!!!

For all you loyal Pop Life readers out there -- especially those who partake in our award-winning Idol Chats -- tomorrow is a momentous day for a beloved member of our cyberfamily. After serving this great nation for 23 years, that quick-draw smartaleck Commander Jeffrey M. "Jeff in Cuba" Johnston of Guantanamo Bay is retiring his patriotic underoos.

I'd like to be the first Pop Lifer to congratulate Jeff for his steadfast dedication to the military -- and never letting that steadfast dedication interfere with bashing David Archuleta right here at tampabay.com.

Anyway, Jeff would like to "share the day with my fellow Pop Lifers," and what better way to huzzah our pal than with a celebratory playlist? In the Navy by the Village People, perhaps? Or maybe The First Cut Is the Deepest by Cat Stevens, to salute JiC's withering wit (often at my expense, something that delights the Forever Fiancee). In a touching moment, I'd like to offer up Arthur Fiedler's version of The Stars and Stripes Forever, my favorite flag-waver. So come on, Pop Life! Let's hear it for our boy!

What's in My Bag? Ben Stiller spending money, time at L.A.'s heavenly Amoeba Music

What's your favorite record store? I have a bunch of them: Princeton Record Exchange in N.J., Sound Garden in Baltimore, Bananas Music in St. Pete. But strap me to a lie detector, and I'd have to 'fess up that Amoeba Music on the Sunset Strip is my ultimate choice for flat-out nirvana. I've spent hours in there, and still haven't seen half the place. They've started a new video series called "What's in My Bag?" grilling customers, famous and otherwise, on what they've just purchased. It's pretty cool. Here's the full list. The Dave Grohl one is pretty good, too. I like the Ben Stiller 'cause he seems genuinely flummoxed, still getting over the daze of browsing that hellzapoppin' shrine to pop culture.

'United Breaks Guitars': Disgruntled singer Dave Carroll fights The Man...and wins

I'm late to the game on this one, but hey, power to the people: Musician Dave Carroll has made national news with this video rebuttal to some nasty airline treatment. It seems the Sons of Maxwell singer was flying United Airlines from Halifax, Canada to Nebraska, with an ominous stopover in Chicago. While in the Windy City, all baggage-handling hell broke loose. Here's the video..and the ensuing brouhaha. This is brilliant.

Summer Reading: Mold-A-Rama!

Hey kids, it's Sean. Good to be back. What have I missed? Much love to Stephanie "Aggressanie" Hayes for Pop Life pinch-hitting and overall derring-do. She's swell that one.

Since we're in the poolside heart of summertime fun, let's kick off my return with a story dear to my populist heart: the Mold-A-Rama epic. Print it out and take it on vacation, preferably a turista trek through the kitschy wilds of FLA. It's a sprawling tale of roadside magic, $2 time-travel and genuine waxy goodness. It also smells fantastic. HERE'S THE STORY! HAVE FUN!

How cool is that snapshot by Daniel Wallace?

Podcast! John Belushi was my guidance counselor (or: Why Chicago is stuck in the '80s)

Hey kids, the newest Stuck in the '80s podcast is up and running. It's loud, it's bawdy, it's co-ed! Cathy Wos has returned to talk about the music and movies of Chicago during that magical decade.

There were a ton of great '80s flicks based in the Windy City; John Hughes and the Belushi bros took care of that. My fave is '81's Continental Divide. If you've never seen it, get thee to Netflix. John B. plays Ernie Souchak, a hardscrabble Metro columnist at the Chicago Sun-Times. After getting roughed up by a shady politico ("Yablonowitz! YABLONOWITZ!"), Souchak is sent to the Rockies to do a fluff piece on "eagle freak" Nell Porter (Blair Brown). Rom-com hijinks ensue, and there's a unique, satisfying finish.

But more than that...the movie forever altered the life of an 11-year-old Massachusetts boy in ill-fitting Toughskins. Yesterday I told you how Rodney Dangerfield influenced my parenting. Today, I'm letting you know that John Belushi, the pride of Chi-Town, dictated my choice in vocation. And you know what? I wouldn't change my role models for anything. ENJOY THE SHOW!   

Sean is taking Monday off

First of all, for the 576 of you who won "Guess Bruce's Halftime Setlist," I suspect serious insider info. But alas, I honor my commitments, so on Tuesday I'll collate the victors, give out the winning (nick)names and my email, and starting sending whatever's on my desk. Will you accept autographed Funyuns? A dusty copy of Neil Sedaka's children's album? Oy, this is gonna get ugly.

So yes: the game. I was on the field for about an hour total Sunday (watching Tim McGraw wipe stuff off of Faith Hill's face right before her America the Beautiful) (cozying up to the Kardashians, who epitomize how ridiculous the Super Bowl really is) (and hanging with John Legend backstage after his tailgate show. I thanked John for letting me stalk him all weekend. I even shook his hand. Good guy. He remembered my goofball question at Thursday's press conference. We had a laugh over how the NFL TOTALLY SCREWED ME OUT OF ASKING SPRINGSTEEN A QUESTION!!! But I'm ready to let that go.)

I have pix of me in my ridiculous green media vest, and I'll try to run those this week, too. Supposedly my pal Jay Cridlin has a snapshot of me in the throngs during Bruce's set. I figure I was about 30 feet from the stage. I really did get doinked by security, who led me back to where I was supposed to be.

In a rather humorous aside, at one point NFL security wouldn't let me walk BEHIND Raymond James stadium to get back to the press tent. So instead, I took a shortcut ON THE FIELD. Genius. Bumped into John Elway, Deion Sanders, Marshall Faulk, all my old pals. I was also on the sideline as the half ended, when the Steelers picked off the ball and rumbled, bumbled, stumbled down the field. Unforgettable.

Anyway, if you're interested, here's my Springsteen review IN FULL.

Here's a riff on Faith and Tim. READ.

Here's a bit on Jennifer Hudson. READ.

Here are sloppy bits on the tailgate shows by John Legend and Journey.

Much love, Pop Lifers. I'll talk to you on Tuesday...

Kissy-face photo and J.Hud snap by the Times' Brendan Fitterer

"They make a grown man cry"

This is one of my faves: a travelogue on the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. I urge boys and girls, fans and nonfans, to check it out. The guy pictured is Neal Armstrong, who drove 2,500 miles to feed his man-crush on John Elway. HERE'S THE STORY.

After you're done with that, check out Scott Keeler's brilliant photo gallery of the Hall of Fame HERE. Scott and I were in Canton on a gorgeous October Thursday, and there were dozens of grade-school kids running, throwing, tackling outside. Mayhem, beautiful mayhem. (The next day Scott and I would cover the Christmas Story House in Cleveland. Yeah, you could say it was a fun trip.) Anyway, I hope you like our work.

"The soft glow of electric sex!"

Hey boys and girls, here's my holiday present to you!

Finally, the sprawling travelogue of my pilgrimage to the Christmas Story House in Cleveland, Ohio. It runs in Sunday's paper, but I want you to open it early, 'cause I loooove you. Here's the STORY.

But wait, it gets better. My pal and yours Steve Spears took the brilliant photography of Scott Keeler plus lotsa audio surprises and produced an unbelievably cool slideshow. Don't miss THAT.

If you crave even more, you can REVISIT my on-site recollections, including cradling Randy's nefarious snowsuit.

And finally, if you need to escape the relatives (Aunt Shirley is so chatty!), you can LISTEN TO a Stuck in the '80s podcast on A Christmas Story, recorded last year but still tons o' fun.

Photo by Scott "Not a fingah!" Keeler

SD's Book Club (clothing optional)

When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. -- John Steinbeck, Travels With Charley: In Search of America

So last Sunday I took my oldest daughter to the library, where there was a sprawling book sale in progress. I combed the dusty, musty stacks for as long as Lulu would let me (not long), and right before giving in to her shirt-pulling, foot-stomping, hand-biting will, I found a copy of John Steinbeck's Travels With Charley from 1962, the very year it was published. That sucker only cost me 25 cents! A dream deal, especially considering the badass art inside (see map).

I first read this book in '92, right after graduating from Syracuse; the wanderlusty prose stoned me good. Sixteen years later, it still does, but for different reasons. Steinbeck wrote/lived the travelogue when he was 58 and in lousy health. Living on Long Island, he wanted to see America, the country he chronicled, one last time. He had a camper truck custom made and stocked with liquor; he named his new ride Rocinante (see Quixote). He also brought along his old French poodle, the titular mutt. As for Steinbeck's wife, she stayed behind -- worried, but understanding. Adventures ensued, as did what I believe is the greatest travel book of all time.

The Daly fam is staying put in Tampa Bay for Thanksgiving, but I'll be re-reading this. If you're on the road (or a plane or a train), and you need something to read, try out Travels With Charley. It's funny and sad and unfailingly cool, a history lesson with a rum chaser, a sociological '60s study that works just as well in the fractured year 2008, right after a contentious election.

But more than that, you'll look smart bending back Steinbeck amongst your fellow travelers. And who knows, it just might make the trip to Grandma's house feel like so much more.