Thank you for your dedication in mocking the pop scene for over 30 years.

You first made me laugh like never before upon your release of “Eat It”. Of course this led into the realm of Doctor Demento which led mee to experience classics like Spike Jones and Tom Lerher. No I never poisoned pigeons in the park but such fare allowed me to indulge my twisted side without fear of being judged harshly.

As a kid, I was an ardent devotee to your hijacking of Mtv under the guise of ALtv where you first exposed me to the greatness of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Greg Proops in addition to your own marvelous contributions such as Harvey the Wonder Hamster.

You made records after that which I bought as soon as I discovered them. My friends ridiculed me relentlessly but their inability to see your brand of awesome makes me pity them all the more. If people can’t see the genius in “Dare to be Stupid”, they might just be hopeless.

After several years I thought you were done but then you came out with “Fat” which killed me all over again.

You even made a movie which I thought was the bet thing ever which was a significant accomplishment considering it came out the same week as Tim Burton’s Batman. Who knew that you would be the one to discover the actor we would later come to know simply as “Kramer”. “Where’s my mop?!” And in life, on some level, isn’t that what we’re all asking? Where’s my mop indeed Mr. Richards. You may have offended a lot of people during an ill advised improv scene at a small comedy club but that’s not what I remember. I remember a bit part in a small budget film called “UHF” and that’s how you shall remain.

Dear Al,
As I grew older I fell into the career of information technology so when you released “It’s All About the Pentiums” I was beyond ecstatic. I knew those lyrics by heart not because of rot memorization, but because your knowledge of computer technology was so spot on that no one, save the most bitter of overweight geeks wearing Frank Frazetta t-shrts, could criticize you. It was as though you understood the heart of the geek and for but a brief period, your heartbeat along with so many others, was one with all creation, and it was good. Lord it was geeky beyond compare, but you, in a supremely unique and geeky way, had touched the sublime and you brought us along for the ride.

Dear Al,
I saw you play during your Alapalooza tour. Your faithful bandmates who had been with you for years, was with you still and didn’t seem to mind in the least when you referred to them as the “Alapalosers”. When you played “Smells Like Nirvana” specifically in tribute to Kurt Cobain’s tragic passing, you inspired one of the most vicious mosh pits I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been to more punk and speed metal shows than I can remember and only Motorhead had a pit more brutal. My elbow hurt for two weeks afterward. I didn’t treat it like an injury. I thought of my nagging aches as premature enlightenment.

Dear Al,
Your dedication to music has made you a better hip-hop artist than most comers in the field.
Fuck Coolio! People will remember Amish Paradise first and foremost. Coolio’s original “Gangster’s Paradise” would have been all but forgotten if not for you. I’m still waiting for Coolio to apologize to you. Hopefully, someday, Coolio will man up and give you the credit you’re due.

Dear Al,
At a time when we were all waiting for the new Star Wars flicks with baited breath and poorly constructed costumes, you were there with us. Your hair was longer, while your glasses, moustache and Hawaiian shirts were gone. We were skeptical at first but that didn’t matter. Your Jedi inflected rendition of American Pie proved to be far more epic than any of George Lucas’ ill-written prequels. Suddenly we all remembered the greatness of your “Lola” cover called simply “Yoda”.

Dear Al,
You’ve got more left in the tank? Unbelievable!
“White and Nerdy” was totally unexpected and completely awesome. You demonstrated not only that you have more of a grip on what hip than any of us ever had, but in your parody, you easily surpassed the ability of most aspiring rappers. It’s as though you are made of musical awesome! You make it look easy while others struggle.

Dear Al,
You are not one to be deterred. You are not one to be denied. You are the perpetually underestimated soul that never gives up and continues to win despite those who never counted you in the running. You are a juggernaut of nerdy success to all of us who ever wore headgear, played D&D when we couldn’t get dates, drank Mountain Dew and insisted, while in a headlock, that science was superior to athletics.

Dear Al,
You were always in our corner and we are always in yours.

We can only repay you by occasionally buying a track from iTunes and emulating the awesome you have shown us for more than half of your life on this rock.

From one geek to another, thank you Al.
Thank you for all you have given us and continue to give us.
We will boldly march forth and dare to be stupid.
We will dare to be stupid indeed.

I love him…”Stuck in the Drive-Thru” is pretty good too…

Go accordion

Favorite Weird Al songs: White and Nerdy, It’s All About the Pentiums, Smells like Nirvana, Amish Paradise, Hardware Store, and the Weird Al Theme Show Song.

And, Dennis DID do Broadway – it was working on a musical of The Hunchback of Notre Dame at the same time Styx was touring, and the constant shuffling back and forth is part of what led to them kicking him out. At least he’s still playing theaters, instead of county fairs and town festivals like his former bandmates. They only ever play venues where the audience isn’t “Free to attend” when grouped with 2-3 other bands.

Hey, he can do things with an accordion few people know how to do, so who knows who you can attract with that?

And Styx were never that bloody great anyway. They had like, one great album around 1976 or 77 and after that, gllleeehhhhccchh. “Mr. Roboto” oh my GOD, that’s not rock. Chuck Berry would stab you in the neck for calling that rock.

Being a remarkable, once-in-100-years kind of genius like Mozart or Beethoven: Rather more significant.

“Stranded all alone at the gas station of love, and I have to use the self service pump” Pure Poetry.

Its up to Al and Pete, I guess.

But if it didn’t, I’d totally pay to see that. Heck, I’d pay to see Peter Schickele playing the left-handed sewer flute.

Anna Russell Sins PDQ Bach, accompanied by Victor Borge, the Spike Jones Orchestra, and Wierd Al Yankovich.