My friend Dusty Carr,
Can you compare the old Vegas to the new Vegas?"
- Peter Griffin. Pittsburgh, PA
Dear Peter,
"I think God is on the take. That's the only explanation for Disney in the Desert. Let me explain...Imagine God was walking through the desert with a giant vacuum cleaner. And he came upon a wonderful town full of gambling, beautiful women, booze and parties. So he turned on his big vacuum and sucked up all those fun things. What he left were just dead-eye businesses backed by multi-national conglomerates. Then we find out that God is on a retainer with Disney. Do I make myself clear?"
Dear Dusty,
"You seem to have known a lot of famous people. How is it that you yourself have remained relatively obscure?"
- Melissa Cook, Miami, FL
Dear Melissa,
"First, I'm not comfortable with that question because it assumes I am not famous, and I am. Second, do you think I would have so many famous friends if I was just some jerk-around pinhead? I believe this is called logic, so use your goddamn brain."
Dear Dusty, Who is your favorite performer?
- Justin DiFranco, San Jose, CA
Dear Justin,
Dead, Bobby Darin, because he knew how to entertain people. He could really perspire, especially around the forehead where it counts. Alive, Tom Jones, another heavy sweater. Plus he reminds me of me."
Dear Dusty,
"I am an aspiring singer/songwriter. You must have spent thousands of hours on stage. What is the one thing a performer should never do if he or she wants to win over an audience?"
Jackie Jones, Brooklyn, NY
Dear Jackie,
"A performer must never - under any circumstances - vomit on the stage or himself, because it can really alienate an audience. If you are going to puke, just race to the wings and it let it shower. Don't worry, if you're any good they'll still be there when you get back."
Dear Dusty,
"Why did you stop the child support payments? Don't you realize that you're still responsible for helping me raise Donna? How would you like the new name 'Dead Beat Dusty'?"
Annette Pierce, Las Vegas, NV
Dear Annette,
"First, I am not comfortable with that question because it assumes I am a deadbeat father, and I'm probably not. Second, I don't know you, we have never had sex, and I've never heard of a kid named Donna, so stop acting like one of those birds that pick the flies off a cow's ass."
Dear Dusty,
"Most of the books and articles I've read a about you discuss your drug and alcohol problems. Please tell me you are now clean and sober."
Cathy Stepford, Dayton, OH
Dear Cathy,
"My mother used to tell me that drugs are the same as religion; they're both private matters. But for the record, I have never had a problem with drugs or booze. It's the people around me who have had a problem with me taking drugs and booze. There's a hell of a difference."
Dear Dusty,
"What is your crowning achievement?"
Daryl Cooper, Ogdensburg, NY
Dear Daryl,
"Without a doubt, drinking twelve beers in one sitting and still being able to pass a breathalyzer. There's no way I should have driven home."
Dear Dusty,
"Last year, in a Tampa nightclub, I heard you perform 'The Unique Vocal Stylings of Dusty Carr'. It's a great song. I was humming it all night. But it seems to have a degree of introspection and self-awareness that I don't usually associate with you. Was it co-written by somebody else?"
Belinda Howard, Toronto, Ontario
Dear Belinda,
"All me. Pure Dusty. I wrote that song alone. It was part of an early-release parole program. We each had to kind of talk about our problems, or something like that. So I decided to write it down in a song, because after all, that's my gig. You can download it from this website."
Dear Dusty,
"I understand you once met Richard Nixon. What was he like?"
Trent Hayward, Nashville, TN
Dear Trent,
"He was okay. Another real heavy sweater. I really couldn't follow his conversation. He started talking about China and Vietnam and Joe Namath and the New York Jets. And the next moment he grabs my tie and pulls me right up to his face and says, "Do you think I should get a brushcut and wear a T-shirt? Do you hip man? Maybe then people would think 'hey, he's tough', and then maybe, just maybe dear god, they would love me a little"…Bless him. He was a nut, but hey, he was our nut."
