Gotta represent for my day job again. Earlier this week, a group from Consumers Union launched the Cover America Tour, a nationwide RV tour to raise awareness about health care issues in the U.S. The 114-day trip will hit dozens of towns and cities across the country, and the crew will interview people along the way to capture their stories. In addition to supporting an important cause, Cover America has a great site, with a blog, Google Maps mashup and videos of real Americans talking about their health care concerns. Check it out, and if you’re in one of the towns where they’ll be making a visit, stop by the RV and meet Meg, Blake and Pauline.

Last week, I celebrated the 57th birthday of one of my boyhood idols, Jonathan Richman. Today is another notable birthday: Joey Ramone, born May 19th, 1951, also would have turned 57 this year, had he not passed away in 2001. Joey was a unique figure in the Pantheon of rock greats: 6’7” tall, rail thin, his face hidden behind dark glasses and a mop of hair; he was geeky, gawky, gifted. As a geeky, gawky high school student back in the late 70s and early 80s, it was easy for me to identify with Joey. If he could be a rock star, I could be anything I wanted to be. And that, after all, was central to the punk ethos Joey and the rest of the Ramones embodied. I saw the Ramones countless times during that period; memorized their first few albums; watched them grab at—and miss—the brass ring of commercial success with Rock ‘n’ Roll High School and the Phil Spector-produced End of the Century; and then gradually lost track of them over the intervening decades, until 2001, when, just months before he would have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Joey succumbed to lymphoma. By the time Joey died, he had secured his place not just in Cleveland, but in the hearts of a new generation of neo-punks like Green Day and the Donnas, who embraced the raw, unpretentious energy of the early Ramones. He also became something of an elder statesman of the New York music scene, hosting shows at various New York venues (at one such show, Jonathan Richman performed Roadrunner at Joey’s request, quite possibly his only public peformance of the song since the early 70s). That tradition continues tonight, with the annual Joey Ramone Birthday Bash at Irving Plaza. I won’t be there, but I’ll be thinking of Joey. Gabba gabba, we accept you, we accept you, one of us.

The first time I saw Jonathan Richman perform, nigh on 30 years ago, he was in his “second childhood” phase, and got down on all fours to sing “I’m a Little Dinosaur.” He did children’s matinees. He refused to do any material from his seminal first album, no matter how much people begged (and they did, with Freebird-like consistency). For me, it was love at first sight. At the height of the punk movement, when cynicism and nihilism were in vogue, here was a performer, a founding light of that movement (the Sex Pistols even covered him!), who reveled in hope, optimism and childlike innocence. Later, he dropped the overt references to childhood, but never lost that sense of innocence and wonder. (Even in the midst of his divorce, when he vented through bitter songs like “True Love Is Not Nice,” he still managed to pen paeans to the little things like “The Lonely Little Thrift Store”.) Today, Jonathan turns 57. And he’s still touring, recording—and glorying in the little things. If you’re not familiar with him, check him out. Now is the time. Here in the morning of your life.

I don’t talk about my day job too much here, but this is one case where I’m willing to make an exception: ConsumerReports.org has won the People’s Voice Award in the Guides/Ratings/Reviews Webby Award category. I’ll let someone else craft the five-word acceptance speech and get back to working on the (award-winning!) site. Congrats to Yelp, which won the “regular” Webby in this category, and to all of the other winners.