Croce Plays Croce for The Angelina Arts Alliance...

Last night was another good one for Angelina Arts Alliance performances in Lufkin, Tx. A.J. Croce, son of late singer songwriter Jim Croce who had a brief but prolific career in the 1970s before his death in a plane crash calls the tour Croce Plays Croce. Though his dad's songs stand the test of time and bring back many memories for my generation he also played originals and covers that spanned the Great American songbook of pop music from 70s funk, the lilt of the New Orleans "Spanish Tinge," boogie woogie, country, flashy big band night club and the blues of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee..   

A.J. is mainly a piano player and he masterfully covered Billy Preston's "Will He Go Round in Circles" and another tune by New Orleans great Allen Toussaint. His father's songs brought back many memories. My high school band director did an arrangement of "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" for the twirlers the year Jim Croce died.   

A.J. Certainly seemed to enjoy the performance as much as I did. He mentioned one of his musical mentors was piano player Floyd Dixon who wrote classics like "Hey Ya Bartender," "One Bourbon One Scotch One Beer" and taught him the boogie piano classics of the 1940s. He talked about collecting old records and mentioned that the Gibson acoustic he played "stays in tune well for a 1955 model." Prices on that model seem to range from $5000 to $8000. It is the righteous, the true believers out touring with instruments like that. 

A.J. Croce is more than just a tribute to his father's music. He's a joyful performer with a story of his own to tell. 

 

Was Just Too Spooky...

On a New York trip in Spring of 2019 our walking route back to our hotel after a day of sightseeing often took us past the KGB Museum. Open and maintained by a father daughter team of Lithuanian immigrants it reportedly provided an unbiased view on the cold war and a large collection of espionage equipment. We never darkened the door because coming of age in the Cold War era when nuclear war was possible and perhaps still likely any exposure to items that might have been used by Russian agents in an attempt to gain world domination gave me the creeps.  There was a restaurant next door with a sign advertising boiled crawfish. I did not darken the door there either because like KGB espionage crawfish in New York City is an experience I chose to avoid. 

So I write about things like this on a day that Russia invades the Ukraine. Some say to mark this as the day WW3 began because like at the beginning of WW2 the USA tried to stay out of it. Like at the beginning of WW2 there are various opinions on which side we should take with some even calling Putin a genius. They use the term in a good way and he is certainly a genius at emboldening  dictators and opponents of human rights across the globe. 

Right now there are people dying in a real shooting war. Americans, on the other side of the globe will moan about rising gas prices which I am sure are higher at the pump this morning. Not as bad as tanks in the streets but remember that Europe imports 27% of it's crude from Russia and they combine with the USA and several other countries to provide 70 percent of the natural gas. It's estimated that 60 percent of Russian export income comes from fossil fuel. This pays for their military adventures. 

The rest of the winter in Europe promises to be expensive, cold and without much driving. 

I often get to observe the effects of climate change brought on by the effects of fossil fuel use in my little corner of the world. I can't help but think how different things would be with renewable energy sources which will certainly bring about a difference in the way we do things but would be crippling to people like Putin who can influence the politics and perception of fault with the turn of a valve. We would have a better planet and screw a dictator. I'm all in. 

The KGB Museum closed, like so many people in these times a victim of Covid 19 impacts. The exhibits are to be or maybe already have been auctioned off. I don't know if the restaurant has crawfish this year but we ate some at a local boil joint the other day and they were good.

       

   

 

Another guitar story...

Here is another story about one of my guitars. This is part of a series that I write from time to time because of the weird allegiance I have to beat up instruments I have spent many hours with. It should be a long running feature because according to my wife I have about a 1000 guitars. Look back in the archives to see a couple of other guitar stories. This guitar is an Alvarez model 5066. I would think it is a late 70s model. Made in Japan. As Steve Earle says in one of his songs Guitar Town, " never thought I'd get this far on $37 and an Asian guitar." Steve did not say Asian, he's an outspoken kid of guy, but kinder and gentler now than when he wrote that song. Not much info on the web about these, I could not even find one for sale on ebay. I bought this guitar in the early 80s, no later than 82 or 83, so that means I have owned it at least 23 years. I paid a $100 at a pawn shop on Denman avenue that is now a pet store. They had a lot of cool guitars there, I wish I knew what I knew about guitars now then, I would have spent all my money there. I especially remember a Baldwin 12 string. I have a CD by Tedisco Del Ray called Music for Lovers and on the cover he holds a Baldwin like the one I saw in that pawn shop long ago. Oh well so much for the one that got away, back to the one I bought. That $100 also included a ratty worn out cardboard case. Guitar was in good shape, slight crack in the top and some fret wear where the previous owner had played a lot of cowboy cords. You can see in the picture I have put some wear on it too. Action was high on the strings, which is not all that comfortable to play. This was in my early guitar days, so low action that played well was important, it makes playing easier. Now I know that if the action is kid of high you get more tone. This high action/good tone thing lead me to make a discovery as to what this guitar is really good for. One day while fooling around in a guitar book I had I tuned this guitar to an opening tuning. I guess I had owned the guitar a couple of years by now. I had a metal guitar slide, kind of like what a steel guitar player uses except with a hole in it to insert your pinkie and I slid it along the strings. I was immediately able to see where sounds like I heard on old Mississippi Delta blues records were coming from. The high action lent itself to slide playing and the guitar was loud. This old Alvarez guitar became my closest friend during this time of my life. I totally dedicated this guitar to slide, played it all the time, I was not married at the time, awful lonely and quiet around here, I had a bunch of time on my hands. I played on the porch, I played in the living room, in the bathroom, and at many jam sessions around east Texas under tall pine trees late at night. I guess it was about 20 years later I bought a metal bodied resonator, thought I needed it, and some day when I get it really broken in I will write about it. This Alvarez though has been an old friend, something I learned with, something I used to learn something about myself with. It does not get played as much these days. It sits on a guitar stand, tuned to standard tuning, may be someone will pick it up to quickly work out a tune that is on their mind at that minute and they don't want to lose the thought by taking the time to get another guitar out of a case. I offered it to Morgan as a guitar to take to college. I told him he could keep it till he bought one of his own, but it was special and I wanted it cared for and returned at some point. He deferred, I don't know why, but he took the Roy Rogers, our name for a Fender acoustic that no one likes to play, but everyone seems to like to look at, kind of like you would look at a dog with a misshapen head. That's another story though.

I Am Not Going Your Way...

A big hippie picked me up and carried me down the street grids of straight America and past all the square box houses. In those houses people, screens, one in every room and one in every hand and pocket. All looking at the same thing, calling it different, calling it freedom while we passed them going our own way. 

I and the hippie were one in our recognition of our differences. Not that our differences were so great to set us apart in our own square box house but there were some rules that were universal truths to be held through time and space by enlightened Buddhas like ourselves. 

Those rules that had me carried, swept away by the expectations of a tired old world were that it would not be ok the climb on the cabinet and put my feet in the butter dish, that warm, greasy room temperature soul bath of happiness. 

The big hippie picked me up and carried me...going our own way. 

  

 

The Old Town Brass Band...

We caught the Old Town Brass Band playing at the Fredonia Brewery on a brilliant sunny Saturday afternoon. This is a great venue to see a band, outside seating, room for kids to run and tasty food trucks. I suppose the beer is good but I don't drink so I can't speak to that but the Old Town Brass were great, playing a combination of traditional Dixieland, Mardi Gras, swing and funk tunes to a good sized afternoon crowd.   

I must admit here and declare a disclaimer as we do have a horse in this race. Our son Morgan plays drums in the group. It's something he's been doing a short time(the band, not the drums) and from the looks of this here he is enjoying it. The rest of the group is made up of a local music educator and students from The Stephen F. Austin State University music department.

I think Morgan told me that of the original eight members at the first rehearsal he attended there were only three of those at this gig. Pretty tight sound considering most people had only had their music for two weeks. The rotating crew thing is about par for the course when it comes to wind player bands. I know the quintet I play in, The Lufkin Brass has used several different trumpet players and had other members switching instruments to fill parts as necessary.      

Of course there were secondliners! 

Guitar, drums and tuba. Note on the music stands. Everyone had the tunes on an ipad. I guess time has passed me by cause for horn gigs I'm still toting around a satchel full of thrift store ring binders with my music stuffed in clear plastic sheets to keep my grimy fingers from soiling the clean white pages. I admire this modern approach because I could imagine all those old guy fears a gig with one of these. Notes too small on the screen, screen too dark, too bright and other tech failures that would foul up the dude in the band with the least amount of hair, at least on his head. 

Heck I usually carry around a battery powered stand light in case I need to squint at a bunch of squiggles on a page but I usually end up using it to find the car keys I dropped in the parking lot.   

The keyboard player, also lead vocals won best band costume. I almost wore a very similar thrift store shirt of great traditional Mardi Gras colors, maybe the same one. It's America and there are millions of those things hanging on the racks at Walmart and going to the second hand store graveyards. Lucky for us there are a million other Karnival costumes to choose from.   

Great guitar player but a weird looking instrument. I'm an old guy, my tuba is 86 years old and I have a 1924 banjo so what do I know about modern looking stuff? 

Morgan told me the tuba player's main instrument is bass trombone and he also played that but he was an excellent tuba guy and really hit a good vibe on the funk tunes.   

Next Old Town Brass gig I know of is at a downtown food truck Friday the City of Nacogdoches puts on on March 25th. I think swing dancing will also be featured. 

That's our old Mardi Gras flag behind Morgan. It has a long and colorful family history often hoisted in New Orleans, at fish fries and now at a brass band gig. 

 

Ruthie Foster at The Pines...

The Angelina Arts Alliance continues to bring good music to Lufkin, Tx. Last night it was Texas singer songwriter Ruthie Foster and her crack band. They provided a wonderful evening of joyfully played music spanning the Ruthie's own tunes, the blues, gospel and fine interpretations of the Texas singer songwriter tradition. 

I've seen Ruthie Foster before. It was at the jazzfest in New Orleans, outside on a warm May afternoon. I can't recall the year. I can recall that I had some great photos and I can see them in my mind but it must have been in the pre blog days because I can't find that I ever posted them online. 

Ruthie's band was sharp. She mentioned, "everyone just came in yesterday from Minneapolis, Houston, Austin..." and other statements she made led me to believe there had not been a lot of live performances during the pandemic but if they had just begun a tour and playing together you could not tell it. The music was soulful, tight and you could tell the band had Ruthie's vibe and spirit of her songs in their pockets.

These were pros and I guess for my meager music journalism I should make notes to remember names better. The bass player was Larry who claimed roots to the area with family driving over from Groveton for the show and stories of the old Black Kat Club out on Highway 94 he was an in the groove dude with great backup vocals. His current day job is with Taj Mahal's Phantom Blues Band. 

 

The keyboard and mandolin player was Scotty, introduced as a singer songwriter in his own right and as a former member of the late Bo Diddley's band.  

I am sorry I did not get the drummer's name and musical pedigree but he was a strong player and smooth backup singer. 

Ruthie is a Texas musician born in Gause, Tx. She was in the Navy and has won numerous blues awards and collaborated with heavy weight rock and blues artists the Allman Brothers and the Tedeschi Trucks Band.  

Hopefully you won't read this and say, "I have never heard of Ruthie Foster." The audience at The Pines had not just come to a show. They came to see her and the music poured out of her heart to fill them, her band and be carried out through world. 

You should get some of that also. 

Here's a Johnny Cash song she performed last night:

The Blind Boys of Alabama...

I took this photo of the gospel group The Blind Boys of Alabama at the New Orleans Jazzfest in 2018.

The group has been in operation with various visually impaired members since 1939. The have won Grammys and other awards, sang at civil rights rallies for Dr. Martin Luther King and performed at the White House for Clinton, George W. Bush and Obama.

We saw them at SXSW in Austin, Tx about 2006 at an in store performance at Waterloo Records on North Lamar Boulevard. The place was packed standing room only. It was a moving sight as they snaked through the the crowd single file with each man's hand on a shoulder led by a band member who could see to take the small stage and present tunes from their Dove ward winning album "Atom Bomb."

It was a group playing music they believed in and they made the onlookers feel it also. I stood back a bit taking in the scene and I saw a hand waving in the air right down front raised like the person was receiving the Holy Spirit.

It was Cathy's hand.

 

Everybody Hollering Cat...

It's Valentines Day. We both got each other cat cards. Must be because we recently got a cat which is the first pet we have had in quite a while. Somebody said that having a pet makes you a nicer person. Really I just made that up but it's probably been said by some one even though we all know a dude we can't stand that has a dog. 

This cat, who goes by Percival or Percy or Perseverance because he persuasively hung around is really named Balls. We just use the P names because the grandkids automatically knew there was something inherently wrong with an adult standing in the backyard hollering "Balls" when what she really wanted was the cat to come here. 

What ever you want to call him he has fit in well. He's very tolerant of children and a good snake catcher. He helps me with wild duck plucking and catfish skinning. Judging from the hand to mouth by the grandkids in the photo they might help Balls with eating cat food.         

He is a young cat and does not have the proper strategy in place to catch a squirrel. There are some terrain features near our bird and squirrel feeder he could use for concealment but at this time he prefers the dead on stalk followed by a so far unsuccessful quick rush that is not fooling anyone.      

Balls, who is tame and loving has a Doppelganger that has begun hanging around. The Doppelganger looks pretty much like Balls but is wild and unapproachable. I think Doppelganger really belongs to some nearby neighbors because I see it head off that way after it's come by to check on Balls and it appears fat and well fed. 

They don't seem to have a real close relationship but Cathy thinks that this is Ball's mother.  

On Valentine's Day I could give lots of advice. Get a cat card, stand in the yard and holler "Balls", pluck a duck, make a dead on stalk with a quick rush but whatever don't be wild and unapproachable when your sweetie comes calling. 

 

Slow Fishing but New Recipes...

Not really our first trip to the lake this year if you count the slough fishing when I claimed to be duck hunting or the wet sand spinning mud hogging on the banks of the Sabine but it was the first boat out trip of the year and Cathy caught her first retirement fish.    

Fishing was a bit slow. Though it was nice warm and sunny water temps are 50 degrees. We checked a shallow water spot we caught some last trip of the year in 2021 but mid day with the lake 4 feet low no fishing hanging in the shallow water. 

Plenty of winter bird life to see. Here's a bald eagle keeping watch from a lake side tree. 

I believe this bird is a loon showing what is termed "non-breeding colors." This bird would dive and reappear as much as 50 years away. They are catching fish when they do this and different from other birds they have solid bones that makes them less buoyant. Breeding rage is mostly in Canada so this guy needs to get busy changing colors and covering ground to be in time for the big party.   

Fishing was slow but look who has big fish for the day. 

We watched a controlled burn in the Angelina National Forest that the Lufkin News reported to be 1022 acres. I had a recent discussion with the engineering department of the family. Biomass is carbon already in the environment. Biomass is widely available, reliable and can help reduce waste. It's not like old dirty coal or oil buried in the ground for millions of years dug up and burned. It's renewable in a quick healthy way and when battery technology is able to store the energy you see going up here climate change is solved. 

Great white pelican. Not a diver but with that big bill he's a scooper. There is usually a bunch of these guys around in the winter but as the breeding range is mostly again in Canada it's probably time to bottle up and go. 

Maybe not catching the biggest but caught the most. Final total was 7 cats all caught deep on a slow day. 

All fresh fish catches inspected by experts to insure finest quality.  

We put a package of the biggest fillets back for later grilling and used this recipe to cook catfish cakes, kind of a poor man's crab cake. 

One last bird photo of these cormorants or by it's East Texas name water turkey.  On some Texas lakes there is a school that slips up to these old roost trees and tosses out a slow sinking bait for big catfish lurking underneath to suck up the bird poo. I have tried but no luck with this method. 

 

Checking Out The Sabine, Big Foot, Rare Blonde Albino Sabine Thang and More...

My fishing log shows that for the past several years we have been catch a few white bass on the Sabine River about this time of the year. We picked up Morgan and Parker and took a run over there just to see. 

On the way down the road to the river we saw this sign. I'm not saying it was Big Foot they saw but down along the Sabine is as good a place as any to look and at this unparalleled time in the history of the world when someone that barely got out of high school knows more than a person who has studied their whole life you can bet it probably was Big Foot.  

We did spot this rare blond albino juvenile Sabine Thang whipping the water to a frenzy with a Zebco 202 casting rig. As with so many sightings like this those people down the bank act like they are not seeing anything.  

The guide at River Ridge Jane Gallenbach  reported that a little rise from recent rain the bite, which had been in the river itself as opposed to up a creek when the water is high should pick up in a few days. We have not used a guide, preferring to fish from what they call "the sandbar." It can be hit or miss from the bank if you can't chase down fish in a boat but white bass is kind of a coarse eating fish and depending on the water body may have some consumption advisories. Sabine River white bass eaters are allowed six meals a month. That's more than I want anyway but be aware that with Trinity River and Lake Livingston white bass you are limited to I think one meal a month and none if in child bearing years.   

You do know the difference in a coon ass and a jack ass? It's the Sabine River. Guess which side they are on. 

Note that while sitting to fish the river has risen to Cathy's chair in a couple of hours. This was Cathy's first retirement fishing trip. I love the beautiful white sand beaches. Good place for the kids to play with lots of big mussel shells to find. The big filter feeders are usually a sign of clean water and big catfish. 

Rare blonde albino Sabine Thang was impressed with Pop-Pop's mud hogging abilities in the wet river sand. For some reason the grand kids always ask "what are you doing Pop-Pop?"   

The Zebco 202 rig has been a go to lately. Lots of practice casting in the yard, little bit of river fishing and it's perfect for luring those crafty felines out from under the truck. I think it might be unbreakable. 

If there is no rain we will probably check the Sabine again soon. We might catch fish, see a Big Foot or just kill the day sitting in a lawn chair. It will be ok whatever happens. 

 

It Matters and of Course I'll Tell You Why...

 Back in the late 1970s/early 1980s I was lucky enough to see blues duo Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee two times. I can't really take any credit for knowing much about them at the time. I was a big blues fan and they performed in a small bar that is now a parking lot in an East Texas collage town. All my friends were going and many of those there that evening are still my friends. All this is as good a reason as you can find to realize that Black History matters. 

Sonny,  a harmonica player lost his sight to injuries by the time he was 16. That left him music as one of the only ways to make a living and he began performing around North Carolina. By 1938 he appeared at Carnegie Hall as part of promoter John Hammond's Spirituals to Swing Concert and recorded for the Library of Congress. He teamed with Brownie by the 1940s and was in the original Broadway cast of Finian's Rainbow and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Musicologist Ned Sublette links Sonny's harp style to the music of African Pigmies who using what a European would call pan pipes alternated sung notes and blown notes to tell the story of the hunt. Sonny recorded "Fox Chase" in 1938 alternating whoops with the harp notes to add to the ancient tribal story of how to hunt large game without getting stepped on. 

Brownie was a guitar player. Reportedly his father forbid him to learn slide guitar because "once you start sliding, you never go back" and he mastered folk and Piedmont styles. With Sonny they fronted folk and jump blues bands, appeared on Broadway and in later years movies and TV. Brownie had polio at age 4 and the March of Dimes paid for the surgery that enabled him to walk. I noted Brownie's compensated gait pattern as he took the stage on the evenings I saw him play. It was not pretty but like Sonny's blindness it did not stop him from a lifetime of accomplishments. 

In 1982, not too long after I saw Sonny and Brownie they were awarded a National Heritage Fellowship  by the National Endowment for the arts. That's the United States Highest honor for the Folk and Traditional Arts.

I think Sonny and Brownie went their sperate ways late in their careers and I have always enjoyed this Sonny/Johnny Winter and Willie Dixon release.

 The gigs I saw Sonny and Brownie play the closer was always the Leadbelly tune Good Night Irene. Young, white, college student long haired hippies hoisted beers and sang the lyrics like they wrote them. I have occasionally sang that song with some of those same people since then.  

If you don't think all this matters, the blues, black history, polio, the March of Dimes, Broadway, Carnegie Hall and the Library of Congress I don't know what I'm gonna do with you.  

  www.venmo.com/u/Carl-Wallace-23