Say what you want about Hugh Hefner. Call him a smut peddler, a misogynist, a sexual miscreant. Say what you will. You have that right. However, I hope that you will also respect my right to disagree with you. As I have stated before on this blog, I am a Playboy subscriber. I do read it for the articles and interviews, a statement I think most people who still subscribe to the magazine to this day would claim as well. Fact is, if you simply want to see a bunch of pictures of naked women, you could log on to the web and see whatever you like. And I do mean whatever. Playboy wasn’t and isn’t about purely satisfying the prurient interest of the hard-up and horny. Playboy (like Mr. Hefner, in my opinion) had class. It still does.

I not only admire Hugh Hefner for taking a fledgling little magazine and turning it into a household name. I also admire the other lesser known fact that Mr. Hefner was an avid jazz fan. And he liked the good stuff. If you ever have a chance to pick up one of the Playboy jazz compilations on cd, I would encourage you to do so. Hugh Hefner knows good music.

What I didn’t really know until lately was the fact that Hugh Hefner also produced music. One of the albums he produced back in the 60’s was an album of standard ballads with Johnny Janis doing the vocals. The album was named Once In A Blue Moon. Mr. Janis was kind enough to give me a copy of this album as well as a copy of his seven other albums, and I have to say that upon first hearing this music, I was both enthralled and puzzled.

Enthralling was the music itself. I was immediately taken with Mr. Janis’ vocals and the way he so seamlessly embraced the songs, creating an atmosphere on the record that keeps one in a sort of nostalgic, wistful holding pattern until the very last song plays. Often I am approached to play someone’s single on the Evening Melancholy radio station, and more often than not, I find myself in a fix because the music is either completely wrong for the jazz/vocal ballad format of the station, or the talent of the musician who had made the well-meaning offering was not as detectable as I had hoped. In the case of Johnny Janis, neither deal-breaker emerged during my listening. The only thing to emerge was my unequivocal admiration for this wonderful vocalist/guitarist and the man who produced this album.

What I found puzzling was the fact that Mr. Janis, while enjoying a brief period of notoriety and success, was not as popular as he should have been. It seems to me that he could have very well carved his own niche in the industry, even with such heavyweights as Sinatra and Tony Bennett looming about. But in the world of music, it is all about timing and fortune, right? Still, I find myself very fortunate in encountering Mr. Janis and having him introduce me to his wonderful music.

I have added songs to the station as well as to the Evening Melancholy MySpace page in hopes that more people can experience and be introduced (or reintroduced) to the music of Johnny Janis. If you find yourself so inclined, and I hope that you do, you can purchase his music here.

Great taste is a gift not a skill. I am only grateful in the fact that Mr. Hefner had the great taste to produce a Johnny Janis album, and I am grateful as well in knowing that Mr. Janis had the talent and taste to create the music on Once In A Blue Moon and his other wonderful pieces.

Are you kidding me? How would you like to spend 75 years being known by one name, and then have some star gazing assholes change it to something lame like Plutoid? I hope Pluto tells all of his celestial buddies that Plutoid is just his slave name.

Already, I can see the following conversation taking place:

Saturn: Plutoid?? What the hell is a Plutoid?

Plutoid: Leave me alone. I didn’t pick the friggin’ name. Why couldn’t I have just been left undiscovered?

Mars: Hehe. Plutoid. Rhymes with hemorrhoid. Do you like Altoids?

Plutoid: I’m getting mad over here.

The Sun: Jeez. You gonna take that? If they renamed me, you know what I’d do? Blow up like a supernova and scorch all them sonsofbitches. The Sun don’t play that shit.

The Moon: That’s fucked up, man.

Uranus: Aha! You’re the bitch of the Solar System.

Pluto. Are you kidding me? You name is YOUR ANUS. Shut the hell up.