by Tim Sampson thursday, july 13 Well, I'm turning a year older this week, which means I'm going through one of those mini mid-life crises again. Not that it doesn't happen every single day when I wake up on the couch with a cat in my mouth, the two of us bundled underneath the one window-unit air conditioner that happens to be working right now. But turning a year older makes it even more interesting, as that means I'm one more year closer to wearing adult diapers and eating Alpo for dinner, as I have no hope whatsoever of having the means to retire to some fabulous beach house when I can't work any longer. Sound pessimistic? Maybe. But when you shoot low, things always seem that much better when they do work out. And I'm getting more and more neurotic with every year that passes. This morning, all I could think about was: When you pull up turnip greens from the ground, there's a turnip at the root. But what about mustard greens. There's no jar of mustard there. So why are they called that? I know, I'm even worried about myself. Read: cripplingly bored. I was, for a brief moment, defrayed from that mode of thought when I saw a headline in The Commercial Appeal's Saturday paper that read, "SEEMS LIKELY NAKED LADIES WILL ARRIVE EARLY THIS YEAR." Hmm. While terribly thankful it was not in the Frayser Neighbors section, I didn't take the time to read the piece. I knew it was probably about some type of flower that goes by that nickname, and I just couldn't bear to suffer the letdown. And then I was very taken with the story about the downtown jail, that big mess of a place where they staged those fake inmate attacks and had the poor jailers on the ground crying and pleading for their lives. I hope they win millions of dollars in that lawsuit. What repugnant idiot thought up that brilliant idea? But it wasn't that that piqued my interest. It was the story of how the deputy jailers signal each other when something's about to go down by flipping lights on and off and referring to their supervisors as "Diana Ross and one Supreme." I am absolutely delighted by this, not to mention dumbfounded. I have this picture in my mind of a male jailer wearing a big frizzy wig and when an inmate tries to do something he's not supposed to, the jailer holds his gun up to his mouth like a microphone, throws one hand out, palm facing inmate, and breaks out into "Stop In the Name of Love." I do so love Memphis. And speaking of the old town, I guess it's about time to let you know what's happening around here this week. And let me just say that from now on, or at least during this little mid-life crisis, things are going to be bit different. In the past, I have listed just about every event on this page that I know of from week to week, much of which is a bunch of crap I wouldn't go to if Elizabeth Taylor was meeting me there for a martini drinking contest (well, I'd do just about anything for that, I guess). But come on. I mean, I think I've even recommended things in Southaven. And plays that sound so horrible I'd just as soon watch the food in my refrigerator grow fur than sit through them. Art openings where all I want to do is walk up to the posers and say, "I'd love to buy that painting. It would look so great with my sofa," and watch the look of horror come ever their faces. So no more. What you'll find now are limited listings. Things that I think should be listed. Like tonight. I usually recommend the Rooftop Party at The Peabody. And I'm sure there's nothing wrong with it and people have fun. But dear God. It's hot enough outside to turn one's skin the color of Pat Vander Schaaf's hair (bless her heart, I hope she knows I'm just teasing and that am actually very fond of her, though I've never met her). And you want me to recommend A) being outside at all, and B) being that much closer to the sun? I don't think so. You go if you want to. I say, if you want to brave the heat, do it at Mud Island's Amphitheater and go hear REO Speedwagon. Yes, REO. Rock on, dudes. I'm a '70s kind of guy and I love you. Or stay inside at Elvis Presley's Memphis and hear the Dempseys. Yeah, I mention them all the time. So what? I like them. Write your own freaking column if you don't like it. Or go hear Kim Richey & Will Kimbrough with the Derailers at the Hi-Tone Cafe. I have no idea who they are but I'm sure if they're at the Hi-Tone they're all right. friday, july 14 Ah, Bastille Day. Have a French fry or something. The very best bet tonight is the SNAP! 2000 Grand Finale Performance at the U of M's Harris Auditorium. SNAP! 2000 is a summer music camp for urban kids that's been going on for the last five weeks as a pilot program of the new Stax Museum project. The kids are great, and the featured guest performers tonight are Watoto de Afrika, an amazing group led by musical genius Donald O'Conner. They're all Memphis kids, and they've performed all over the world, most recently at the Essence Music Festival in New Orleans over the Fourth of July weekend, which garnered them a big photo and story on the front page of the New Orleans Times-Picayune newspaper. So go see them. Later, the Sallymacs are at Automatic Slim's. Soulsville Street Unit is at Young Avenue Deli. Bathtub Gin is at Newby's. And tonight's Studio on the Square Summer Midnight Film Series feature is none other than the comedy classic, Airplane. How fabulous. saturday, july 15 If you're in one of those Tunica kind of moods, Chubby Checker is at the Grand, and Ray Charles is at the Horseshoe. Every Mother's Nightmare with Unchained and the Blame are at the New Daisy. Celtic Knotworks are at Kudzu's. Back at the Hi-Tone, it's live music by the Pawtuckets. And I feel certain there's a big, big party going on tonight at Sadie's at the corner of College and McLemore, by far the most fun club in Memphis. sunday, july 16 Yes, Di Anne Price & Her Boyfriends are at Huey's Downtown today. I know I mention her all the time, too, because she's great. So go hear her. There's some zydeco band playing there later, and I'm sure they're probably good as far as that genre goes, but I hate zydeco music so it's up to you if you want to stay. monday, july 17 If you've never heard Beale Street stalwart Preston Shannon, you're missing out. He's at B.B. King's tonight and it's well worth the visit. tuesday, july 18 Erik Valentino & the John Aldinger Band at French Quarter Suites. wednesday, july 19 Again, I hate to send you out into the heat, but tonight's Downtown Summer Meltdown's Latino Night! With Caliente at Peabody Place does sound mighty good, and if you get too hot there are plenty of bars to duck into. And that, I suppose, is that. As always, I couldn't care less what you do this week, because I don't even know you, and unless you can fix it so that Liz and I have that potato mash party, I'm sure I don't want to meet you. Besides, it's time for me to go down to the jail and tell those deputy jailers that Diana Ross is now widely considered to be a raving bitch, so they might want to get 'em a Patti LaBelle act going. You can e-mail Tim Sampson at letters@memphisflyer.com.