It just so happens I'm an expert on this topic this week, as I've been out of commission with the good old fashioned Black Death.

Now mostly, I've been whiling away the hours with my "I can't believe he's in a committed relationship and still owns about 100" Mystery Science Theater 3000 DVD's. MST3K is always a great choice for sick viewing, as the plots are immaterial, the riffers' voices are NPR-soothing, and you can kind of fade in and out as your codeine-powered cough sizzurp waxes and wanes.

(Seriously? That stuff is just the best. DJ Screw must have had the most mellow, laid-back death by overdose ever.)

But man cannot live by robots making fun of bad movies alone. I mean, I've been giving it the old college try for about 18 years now, but even I need a change of pace. That's why I'm wonderful.

Which brings us to 1956's "Rock Around the Clock." It's a brisk 77 minutes, so it's easy to work into your sick-day schedule of naps and feeling sorry for yourself.

The movie itself is about 70% musical numbers, supplied by 50's luminaries like The Platters, and Bill Haley & The Comets. That means the plot is Playskool simple, so even your Purp'ed out brain can follow it. There's also something to be said for a nice black & white movie when you're sick, as there are no vibrant colors to freak you out, or make you woozy and nauseous. Try and watch "Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory" with a slammin' head and chest cold, and you'll see what I mean. You'll feel like you have an entire Slugworth jammed in your sinus cavity. That happened to Richard Gere once, true story.

But ultimately, I'm my mother's son when it comes to movies like this. My mom raised me with a highly developed sense of Cold War kitsch, so give me any movie where the kids drive giant cars, dance, and talk jive, and I'm a happy camper. It's very soothing to just space out and look at everyone's snappy 1950's outfits. Not the most masculine thing to admit, but whatever. The macho ship sailed without me years ago, when I got into a conversation with a stranger at a party about the comparative merits of Trinny & Susannah vs. Clinton & Stacey. I dig what I dig. That's why I'm- Oh, sorry. Said that already.

There's a lot of merits to "RATC" whether sick or able-bodied, but for my sizzurp, the real shining jewel in this movie's cardboard Burger King crown is Lisa Gaye, who plays the small-town manager of Bill Haley & The Comets. She's also part of the brother/sister dancing team who demonstrates how to dance to rock & roll. You know, for people who need such things demonstrated to them.

(Not enough bands have demonstration dancers, by the by. You know who could really benefit from a DD? Jandek. I should remember to call and tell him. And when I say "Call" I mean "Wrap a note written in coal dust around a rock with barbed wire, and leave it at the stump of the dead old oak tree." Man, this cough syrup is AWESOME.)

Lisa Gaye, mmm-mmm-mmm. She is cute. Let's get her up on Still-Store, shall we, Cambot?

http://tinyurl.com/c3ft2n

In Polly of Hollywood shoes, no less. This is a pretty dreamy picture of her, but it doesn't really communicate how downright breakfast-lunch-and-dinner she is in "RATC."

It's all about the hair. She isn't really a tough girl in the movie at all, but they gave her a kind of greasy, short pompadour that, by all rights, one would see being worn at a Phranc show, if not by Phranc herself. Normally that's not my jam, yo, but it belies a real wildness in her, that sort of breaks the boundaries of the typical dance-and-pout ingenue that 50's Rocksploitation movies have.

Well heck, let's just check out the trailer, wont you? Lisa pops up around 1:12.

http://tinyurl.com/awfcpm

Yum, right?

So let's review. Awesome music, cute girls, great outfits, no plot. I think I'll pop it on right now, just as soon as I finish my coal-dust note to Jandek, and my "Get Well Soon" card to Richard Gere. As I'm sure he'd tell you, having an entire Slugworth stuck in your sinuses is probably the second worst thing you could have stuck inside of you.

ONE MORE TIME FOR COUGH SYRUP, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!