All those cogs and wheels and secret arrangements of stars...

I was standing at the check out counter in the grocery store buying a mess of turnip greens and I had one of those visions where just for an instant you glimpse the interworking of the universe. All those cogs and wheels and secret arrangements of stars in unknown constellations spin right there in plain view and then they are gone again, at least till the next time. 

Once someone told me that if they were going somewhere they often wore a catchy slogan on a t-shirt as an ice breaker or conversation starter. As a Christmas present I got a t-shirt, actually a tank top that says, I like her butt. It will probably work well in situations where I need a conversation starter or ice breaker. 

Once a guy, a little older than me came to the physical therapy clinic where I was working and had on a Rolling Stones Tour 78 t- shirt, big old lips and everything. I've never seen that band but at a Ray Wylie Hubbard show I stood by Ian McLagan who was in the English rock band the Faces with Stone Ron Wood so theoretically I could have asked him to say hi for me. 

I asked my patient if he had seen the Stones and he said yes and a friend had recently asked him to go see them again. He said, "I told him, too rough for me, I'm too old for all that fighting and stuff." The friend replied, "Oh it's not like it was. Tickets are so expensive it's all people in suits and stuff."

  I'm pretty sure that these days you can get a Rolling Stones, Bob Marley or Pink Floyd T-shirt at any big box retailer. If I see you wearing one of these as a conversation starter I guess since the history of these bands include chapters on slightly more than recreational drug use we can talk about why there is mass availability of these garments to the public and the merits of how the the 1st world distribution system is about the same for shirts and recreational drugs. 

I'm 67 years old and I'm still wearing band t-shirts but I usually buy them from a guy in the band. I guess I could have bought one of McLagan's. I bought this New Orleans Flat Earth Friendship Society shirt from a guy calls himself drdaddyzwhodat.              

When I was checking out my turnip greens at the grocery store this shirt was a conversation starter. The sack boy at the grocery store noticed it but without the backing of a 1st world distribution system the conversation went no where. After all drdaddyzwhodat had made it in his garage, stuffed it in a bubble wrap packing envelope and mailed it to me. 

The young man instead turned to the turnip greens, something in his sphere of experience. He said, "I don't like them. I got a zero in school for not eating my greens." I asked where he went to school. He told me and I told him when I went to school during the last century eating turnip greens had not been on the curriculum but I still enjoyed them.  

It's certainly not like it was but if you like those glimpses cogs and wheels and secret arrangements of stars in unknown constellations hit the venmo below for a conversation starter. 

  

 

Leavings...

Once I had a coworker, I won't call him my boss exactly but he was of a superior rank to me. Sometimes he would say, "hey, I don't have time for this today, do you want to do it?" I don't know how he was paid but I was paid by the hour and to do what he wanted me to do equaled the purchase of about three cheap Chinese made fuzz pedals that I could put to good use with an electric guitar when I was being my other other self which was sound architect. Castles made out of sound are kind of like castles made of sand in that the don't last, they don't sell but I often told people that I made a good living off my coworker's leavings.

I don't work anymore but for some years now I have refurbished my whole wardrobe from other people's leavings by shopping at thrift stores. I might own a few brand new dress shirts and a couple of suits that I bought brand new because it's kind of hard to lay a hand on a large sized suit quickly at a thrift store or a dress shit to go with it that has a 22" neck. Maybe guys that size don't wear suits and ties but sometimes in my job as sound architect I have to look the part. 

This week at the thrift store I picked up this walking stick from Boquillas Mexico. Nowadays, especially since 9/11 when Boquillas was closed for a period they have made it a port of entry. There is a ferry, you need a passport and are only permitted to bring back one bottle of liquor. The day I crossed me and the wife and kids all got in a flat bottom boat along with a couple of other guys who had a G.I. can full of iced Shaefer beer (which was always one of my favorites) and another man waded the Rio Grande towing us and the beer to Old Mexico. I rented donkeys for the kids to ride and we made a walk around Boquillas. I think they have made it illegal for you to take your kids to a drag show these days. They should probably make it illegal for you to take your kids to Boquilllas. There is video tape of this trip and it's at the converter changing to digital media courtesy of my children as I write this. We should have some more info on this trip soon. 

Chances are I won't be back to Boquillas anytime soon. The day I purchased this stick my knee was hurting pretty bad due to the fact I had picked up a bunch of sound architect equipment and turned the wrong way and it seemed like it might be time for such as this. The knee did start to get better so for now I have a good fire poker which it looks like this has been used as.  

         

In addition to 22' neck shirts I don't often find a pair of shoes in good condition that fit a big man but I scored these. I had some like it when I was a kid and we called it a Wellington Boot. Actually a Wellington Boot is some kind of rubber boot which I'll probably need a pair of also for winter outdoor activity. These are Justin Standard Ropers, a $115 boot. Could be re-heeled but very good condition and brings my boot total to five pair not counting a pair of chest waders, hip waders and rubber boots all available for various levels of you know what I encounter. 

By the way you know how these tourist treasures like the walking stick are made don't you? Some guy rents a shack, puts on the novellas all day and women sit and paint various ethnic items. I would imagine it's actually a job with advancement possibility because sooner or later an actually artist comes along, the worker has developed finer skills to better interpret the artistic vision and they make a pretty good living off that guy or gal's leavings.    

The good stuff like that may not make the thrift store but the things I found this week are good enough. I;; take those leavings.  

 

I've Been an Alright Pretty Good Guy...

I've been a pretty good guy, at least most of the time. Sometimes I have been a pretty bad guy. Hopefully no one else remembers that but since I do have a conscience and believe in forgiveness and atonement I think about those times and try to do better. That might be why we kind of have a fascination with our 36th President, a Texan Lyndon Baines Johnson. Cathy has read all the Robert Caro Books that are finished on LBJ's life we have visited his ranch in Johnson City twice now, his Presidential Library In Austin and recall the history he made that happened in our lifetimes. LBJ did some great things with domestic policy for the poor, health care, civil rights, urban and rural development, education and the arts. He did not do so well in in foreign policy and was eventually undone by the criticism of his escalation of the Viet Nam war. Since he was president he probably did other bad things we do not know the extent of but like all of us the judgment of his life has fluctuated through the years. 

A personal connection I have to LBJ is through one of my mom's stories. In 1947 my mom went to work at Southland Paper Mill in Lufkin, Tx, the first mill to make newsprint from southern pine. E.L Kurth, a businessman who organized the mill and had served during FDR's New Deal in the National Recovery Administration to promote the timber industry and conservation was backing LBJ in his 1948 run for U.S. Senate. Kurth loaded all the mill secretaries up (they still beef up the crowds today with paid crisis actors some say) and took them to Jacksonville, Tx where LBJ was making a campaign stop in this helicopter which I found a picture of in the visitors center museum in Johnson City. It was the first time my mom ever saw a helicopter ( she would first fly on an airplane about 55 years later) and she got to shake LBJ's hand. I figure my mom voted for LBJ that year given what I know about her voting record in my lifetime. There was some controversy in the election but he won and like we say a pretty good guy can be pretty bad sometimes.            

As part of our tour in Johnson City we went through LBJ's boyhood home. LBJ stood right here on these steps and made his announcement that he intended to seek a senate seat in 1948. As we see from recent events there is symbolism in the steps someone stands on to make their statement. Back in the day Johnson City was a pretty rural place with no national significance. LBJ wanted his friends and family to be the first to know his intentions and hear it in person. I'm sure there was some press there to spread the news but no TV or video.      

I have been inside LBJ's ranch house, the Texas White House on a pervious trip but on this visit with our oldest grandkids in tow it was closed for renovations and structural work. We were able to drive the area seeing the cows grazing the working ranch, many, many deer and walk around the grounds and see his plane Air Force 1/2.  

Johnson City was pretty isolated back in the day. No internet but LBJ made sure he had three television sets to get all three networks. He adopted that idea from Elvis. 

Robert Caro is getting pretty old. His editor, also old passed recently. I hope he gets to finish his final book on LBJ's presidential years. It probably won't change what you think about LBJ, pretty good guy who was pretty bad sometimes but it might be something to read while we examine our own conscience. 

Most things presidents say are recorded according to certain laws. Do yourself a favor and look up LBJ's phone calls.

  

 

Band Back Stories...

 One time I sat down with the guys to name that band. I thought of the name "The Raguet Street Ramblers." Raguet Street is in my home town of Lufkin, Tx. I have a history book on Lufkin Street names but I can't lay my hand on it to find who it's named for but the street runs roughly north/south through residential, industrial, and commercial prosperities. The people living along this street represent several ethnic, cultural and socioeconomic groups. I could imagine a back story of a band adding to all this history and reality and whose music is played to celebrate all these aspects of Raguet St. which are the history of our town. 

For various reasons no one else liked this and we named the band something more direct that from which you could tell where we were from and what we were going to do. Probably has not made any difference and my historical backstory delusions of the Raguet Street Ramblers are not the biggest band name fail I have had.

One of the workshops I attend at the Old Settlers Festival was by the band Goodnight, Texas. The two main guys, Pat and Avi are from opposite sides of the country. The town of Goodnight, Tx represents the exact midpoint between them. The workshop I attended was called "Finding Middle Ground" and how they incorporated their lives into the music especially being from different places. One mentioned that he had an ancestor, a civil war army doctor to whom the task fell to give a great and inspiring speech to troops after President Lincoln's assassination. The text of the speech survives in the family today. The other partner had in his family mementos old tintype photos of ancestors. To write their songs they pulled from the lives, times and feel of these days gone by.   

I regret I did not catch their set which was a late night jam delayed even longer by thunderstorms that rolled through that evening. Looks like they have updated their sound with instruments such as baritone guitar and steel guitar which is a sound I like so I'm going to follow this music. They did get the song "Railroad" on the show Tiger King which I know since that show shattered streaming records when it came out you have heard Goodnight, Texas. 

  

Another good intelligent set of music was by Nigel Wearne. He's from Australia and his day job was as a teacher so these songs were well written bringing to life the history of that country in a folk blues Americana kind of way with good between song details that filled in the back story for the people not familiar with the history lived a world away. 

I think the backstory is important. What story does your life tell? If you can't tell it let me name your band.  

 

An Old Cassette Tape and the Memories...

 

We've been decluttering. I know everyone does that and you thought I was way cooler than to worry about the krap the kids find in my drawers, cabinet drawers that is, and way too cool to do something everyone else is doing so I'll talk about lost treasure found.

In a pen holder, office desk krap holder, you know what I mean on the kitchen counter near the old phone jack when you had a phone on the counter and needed something like this to take down a note instead of just consulting the information from the text you received Cathy found an old homemade cassette tape labeled Harlem Jazz. I still have a cassette deck as a part of my home stereo and the tape plays well to be probably alomst 40 years old.  

I remember this tape well. It was made from a friend's album and back in the days when I cruised around in the Rockett 88 it was in heavy rotation. There is no track listing so I can only guess at the artist but I'll go out on the limb and say maybe the 40s because it swings, there's no bebop and I've listened to some cuts from an album on youtube called Harlem Jazz 1930 and it's a later style than this. 

If you recall an old blog post I did visit the National Jazz Museum in Harlem on a New York City trip in 2019 so I have been to the source.

  I don't have photos on this cassette so it was possibly made from a collection of albums. I don't recall all these years later but I would say these are all African American singers and players. 

I have written many blog posts on my collecting of thrift store records. One particular category that is easily and cheaply collected with the records being in good shape is the Readers Digest Box Sets. I look for the 20s, 30s, 40s, swing and polka sets but there is something in the collection for everyone. Well most everyone. Seems if you were to like, let's say Harlem Jazz, in my collecting ventures I've found none as part of this series.  

Now I know Readers Digest is not know for a particularly edgier style of journalism so we should expect nothing different from the records but where are the records by the black jazz musicians? Sure there might be a Duke Ellington or a Billie Holiday or an Ella Fitzgerald  here and there on a 9 record set but certainly nothing like this:

Or this:

From record collecting I can tell when a family member has died. The bins at the thrift will be full of all the records made by the country singer they like the most and the family brought them by the box to the drop off. . Or when someone's mom decided it was time to clean out Jr's room and tossed all his Grand Funk records. I would imagine there is some who easily fill out incomplete collections like this but maybe some people don't discard the old records. They stay in the family collection. Hopefully that's where the Harlem Zazz records are but I would not mind finding at least one old compilation disc.  

Those were fine days driving in the Rockett 88 or listening on the big home unit with a state of an art tape deck. Today Sirus Radio called and I did not pick up because I use the USB drive in my cars and I made a new drive today. It has 4500 songs on it. If you bring a zip drive over I'll make you one also. We call it Carl and Cathy Radio.  

Don't worry I'm not tossing the records. Someday someone at the thrift store will wonder what kind of guy had all this? 

            

Weekend at The Old Mill Music Festival...

For our third Rpod camping adventure we spent the weekend at the Old Mill Festival In Kennard, Tx. We arrived on Thursday for three nights of camping fun with the days filled with old time music, jam sessions, work shops on various instruments and techniques, square dancing, a tornado watch and concerts. It's also about the people. You meet people, talk to people, play music with people and then decide which festival you will see them at next. 

It seems in the hustle and bustle of the last few years of life I have gotten out of the habit of sitting and talking with new people or trying my hand at some different musical thing. It's been a constant beat that guy to a seat on the plane or pack the gear up for the next gig kind of run and gun and maybe I need a new attitude. Old Time music combined with the RV lifestyle go hand in hand with bringing people together so they are not worrying about the price of gas or what Trump done last night.      

 We usually call our get away sets ups Camp Catfish so we may have to come up with a new name. Maybe this was camp guitar. 

There were lots of areas to relax and you could wander the grounds looking for a jam session to fit in with. I'll write more on the music and workshops later. 

Here you see the Cajun Prairie Tri-eaux driving the dancers with Louisiana accordion and fiddle tunes. I wanted to call this a bluegrass fest and there was some bluegrassy/country kind of music but it was old Americana at it's best with sounds of banjo and fiddle reels heard everywhere.    

Lone Star Feed was the square dance band. This stage was about 60' from my camper bunk and I fell asleep last night, like a baby I might add to the sounds of a square dance. 

The Wright family are the organization behind this festival. I think this was number 11. I have had this on my calendar for some tome but it was always a work weekend for us.  

I think I sleep better in the camper than I do at home. Maybe when I'm out and about in the camper I'm busier, more engaged with life or something. I know our new hobby of maintaining and improving an 11 year old camper keeps us busy. 

Get the Old Mill Festival on your schedule. It's fun. 

 

Let's Work on Cars...

 This is a photo from the old collection of family photos assembled by my cousin Mary Lou and her husband Mike. An unidentifiable man works on a Ford automobile. I believe it's a very late 1930s or possibly 1940s model. There's a lot to take in on this photo. 

First off if I stood on my car's bumper it would probably come off or the plastic it's made of would shatter. My little hybrid car (yeah this is that dreaded liberal virtue signal running up the flagpole) is a discontinued model because some very smart man decided to lower gas mileage requirements a few years ago and automobile manufacturers made a decision to build only cars larger than WW2 armored tanks that get about the same MPG so I probably could not get the part and if I could it wouldn't be the same color as my car is now.  

Also if I look under the hoods of my car or truck, both coming up on 10 years old or more I see warnings that if it's not yellow don't touch it. They are talking about oil dipsticks, windshield washer fluid and such that have yellow handles. I would imagine on a new car if you touch something you are not supposed to your phone dings. 

This guy's arm has disappeared completely up to his shoulder as he grapples with some demon in the very depths of the engine compartment. There's no way my arm will penetrate to this depth and if it could get past the inner circle of unknown auto part hell it would quickly encounter the Earth's surface because generally vehicle clearance is so poor that an encounter with a large racoon on a Texas Farm Road will end with severe damage or completely upends the car.  Don't ask how I know this because that's another blog post. 

Also it's amazing to me that he's doing this and I don't see his phone propped up somewhere showing a youtube video of how to do whatever it is. I suppose they had youtube and maybe they had phones because the number of views these videos get indicate they have been watched a lot, a long time or something. 

Oh yeah, one more thing about the hybrid. Unlike this old Ford (hybrid is a Ford) it has been very maintenance (knock on wood) free. I've taken it to my guy a few times for an occasional minor issue and I'll think and tell him "hey why don't you check the such and such for me, it's never been checked." He'll call me back and say, "It didn't have on of those."   

After all this talk about about modern cars I am a little closer to cars like the old ones than you think. My neighbor to the north east a yard over has hauled several rusting hulks of similar vintage onto his property. He must consider these valuable because he put them close to his house which is better than along the generous back border we share and if I stand on small stool at the kitchen window I can just see their roofs above the privacy fence me and the side neighbor share. 

If I can't work on cars I figure watching these old cars sit in the yard will give me something to do for the rest of my life.          

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. 

  

 

Big As A Skint Mule...

Man, if you have google you should know, correct?? Well maybe not know what is correct or right but I did google the southern phrase big as a skint mule and got exactly one hit. 

Big as a skint mule, I can't recall where I heard it but it is a phrase that in this family we use to refer to when a sleeping child is on the couch or has maybe slipped off to dream land in the comfortable place that they have come to rest in and they seem to look, all stretched out vs. curled in a bed and seem bigger than they are.  I have never skint a mule. I can only imagine that once the job of work of getting the hide off was complete that the skint mule would look bigger than it really is.

 I don't know if people really skin mules. There is a job called muleskinner but it refers to the occupation of wagon driver which given the debate over fossil fuels might see some room for growth in the coming decades. If there is a job of skinning mules I doubt that it pays what it's worth or that any pay increases keep up with the cost of living. 

In addition to when they are napping a child can also look as big as a skint mule when he throws himself on the ground in a I am not even to the terrible twos yet tantrum because his brother touched the cat toy Pop Pop made from a broken fishing rod, a string and a strip of fabric.   

Maybe the tears here were not over the toy. It's possible he found out that there are not any fine liberal arts colleges offering degrees in  mule skinning or skinning mules. I think both those jobs would just be the kind of thing you just roll up your sleeves and get on with best you can. 

There, now when you google big as a skint mule you will get two hits and one of them will be this blog. 

   

 

Standing at the Crossroads...

I saw the news this past week that superstar rock blues guitarist Eric Clapton announced he would not play a concert anywhere that proof  of vaccination or a negative Covid test is required. A brilliant musician for sure, a scientist he is not. 

I have never been a huge Clapton fan except for his earlier recordings with John Mayall, Cream, Derek and the Dominos and Delany and Bonnie. Somewhere in the mid 70s his music no longer spoke to me. I have admired that he has some measure of fame owing to his triumph over substance abuse and his assistance to others with similar problems but for these stars whose fame stretches back decades with piles of money coming in sacks and a life lived in gated communities in the nicest places gives me the feeling that they may not have a good feel for situations that effect the rest of us. 

Clapton, as with most people his age does have some underlying medical conditions and claims a reaction to the vaccine that was so severe he wondered if he would play guitar again. While I would bet Eric has wondered if he would ever play guitar again several times before this instance those with underlying conditions should consult their doctor, not an internet doctor, before getting the vaccine. 

Robert Johnson is known as the King of the Delta Blues. He born in 1911 and traveled the south playing juke joints, parties and street corners. Originally a guitarist of average ability he dropped out of sight. It was reported that he met the Devil at a Mississippi crossroads who tuned his guitar in return for his soul. Resurfacing to record about 30 sides he demonstrated a style of playing with surreal song lyrics that is the foundation of rock music today. 

Sadly Johnson saw no profit from this as on the cusp of a Carnegie Hall invitation popular legend has a jealous man slipping him poison whiskey at a juke joint gig and in 1938 he died on his all fours barking like a dog. At least three different markers have been erected at gravesites suspected to be his. Clapton, whose style benefited from his dedication to the study of Johnson's music has been instrumental in the family receiving some money from song rights and royalties.  

Though much of Johnson's legend links him to the Devil and the selling of his soul I have seen VooDoo practitioners that think the man Johnson met at the crossroads was not the devil but was the more benign figure of Legba. Legba stands at the spiritual crossroads granting or denying permission to speak with the spirits facilitating communication, speech and understanding.

Maybe Clapton needs to stand at the crossroads. He might be a little more in touch.                             

 

Have You Been to See the Elephant...

I've been looking at this old photo taken during summer vacation with my family in 1959. It's a visit to what I think is either the San Antone or maybe Houston zoo. That's me in the front seat riding an elephant. I don't see any adults in the photo. Maybe in the 1950s kids just knew how to ride elephants and elephants knew what to do when they were loaded up with kids. It's another case of seems like things never going to change and then just like overnight it's different.   

I don't think you can ride an elephant anymore. Citing the public's changing attitude about animals and of course, the most important, the decline in ticket sales and the rule of the almighty dollar Ringling Brothers and Shrine Circus shows no longer use elephants in their shows. I bet you can't ride an elephant anymore but Cathy recalls the kids riding one at a Renaissance Festival as recently as the 1990s. 

Facts and figures show steady decline of elephant populations. Commercial bans on ivory importation into the USA took effect in 2016. In 2018 after some confusing flip flopping around the Trump administration reversed a ban on the importation of elephant trophies. Recently footage of a botched 2013 elephant hunt by NRA president Wayne LaPierre has surfaced and it is good evidence that he should not be allowed to hunt, have a gun or be around elephants. 

It seems when reading wildlife news that detrimental changes over the last four years, human behaviors and the customs of the ivory trade are going to take some time to reverse. I hope the elephants hang in there. One day it will be different but probably not overnight.   

    

 

Have You Heard Loose Lips Sink Ships, or Have I Seen Those Lips Before...

We had friends over for a nice evening of fried catfish and conversation. In fact we talked so much we never even got around to discussing our shared grandchildren but some of the topics we covered were fishing, travel and facial recognition software and how good it has become. 

On the porch not far from where we sat was my old red wagon. Actually it's one of those new red wagons, pretty stout frame and canvas sides that serves me as a tool carrier, a grandchild transport for donkey walks and when I'm bank fishing it's a gear hauler. 

In the course of telling fishing stories I remarked to our friends how when we were launching the boat that day several people were on the shore unable to use the walkway to the old marina because of high water. It's a popular fishing spot and I related how "they loaded a wagon like that," on an aluminum boat and with a rope that was tied to the bank and the marina hand pulled themselves river ferry crossing style out to unload the wagon with fishing gear on the marina walkways. 

I did not have my phone in my pocket when I told this story. It was about 15' from me on a table all evening. I don't have one of those "Hey Google" things. Since I have a wagon there is no need to shop wagons on the world wide web. Today my ad feed for the internet is full of "shop wagons like this" ads apparently because I said "a wagon like that." 

I have not checked on my friends today. The information they provided about the facial recognition software part of the discussion was second hand from a good source. 

If I tell you I liked this house boat I photographed on the lake will I be under consumer pressure to shop similar craft?         

And while we are on these seeming coincidences here's my third great uncle Charlie Ledbetter, a ferry man on the Tennessee River. Seems that one evening in 1906 a man by the name of R.H. Ward had been drinking and caught a ride across the river to visit Charlie. This seems to have been a custom on his drinking days. Later his body was found about 10 miles down river. Charlie was arrested, tried and acquitted. Probably good thing there was no facial recognition software in those days. 

I believe that's Charlie with the dog. 

 

Hey! I Like Bedlam Too...

 I recall once when my son Morgan was in college I paid him a visit at his place and as we sat talking his music played from a laptop. It was a nice evening enhanced by the vibe of good tunes and I was proud my son had such great taste. I asked about where he was hearing and acquiring his music and he said, "I ripped it all from your cds." Well I do have an extensive library of records and cds and sometimes I forget what's in it. One thing for sure, my soon to be four year old grandson Ezra is not going to let me forget that I have a copy of Bedlam Ballroom by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. 

If you don't know the Zippers they are a band formed back in 1993 and combine 1930s swing with a weird old America carnival atmosphere and older musical forms such as blues, gypsy jazz and klezmer. The band is led by Jimbo Mathus and has had some on and off periods but a reconstituted combo has been back releasing new music since 2016. We saw the Zippers with Scott, Ellen, Suzi and Charlie on New Years Eve 2016/2017 in New Orleans. Me and Cathy have also seen Jimbo on his own twice. He's a national treasure. 

Bedlam Ballroom opens with Gene Krupa style drumming. It's a heavy swinging jungle beat with thudding toms that gives away to a bossa nova swing. It's nice we have the drum set in this room as Ezra can work on his feel for that kind of riff. When the singing starts he then begins lip syncing the words like he was in Milli Vanilli. The brilliant neon colors of the cd cover are an eye catcher for him and he's had Cathy make a couple of copies to go. 

Reviews of this cd were a bit lukewarm when it came out and the band broke up afterwards but we only care about what we think and me and Ezra think this album was good. 

Also playing on Bedlam Ballroom was violinist Andrew Bird. Jimbo and Andrew have out a new release as a duo and I will be watching for tour dates. 

So one of these days Ezra will be all grown up and I'll be a feeble old man and I'll marvel that he listens to great music. Music is a seed planted that continues to grow. 

 

  

Macho Mockingbird and Other Spicy Stories...

 I though I would flesh out the story of the Macho Mockingbird a little more. I have been thinking about a new tattoo and this certainly is a candidate because it does hold some transcendental meaning. It has a back story and could be related to events that may or may not or could or did not happen. Or maybe they did. People tell me stuff I said and did all the time. Like the facts involved here I don't always remember. Maybe I did, maybe I said, maybe not.

Some years ago before blogs and internet influencing, before conspiracy theories and when global warming had not come to the attention of certified YouTube researchers me and Scott Smith (yes that's his real name) came up with an apocalyptic sci-fi novel idea. It started when Mr. Smith saw a mockingbird, the State Bird of Texas, eating habanero peppers from his garden. That was a macho mockingbird for sure and when it came time to bottle hot sauce Mr. Smith got his artist friend, Jon Stuart Anderson  to draw a logo. I was proud to receive a bottle. I love hot sauce.

Now we know how much trouble it is when something that is so much fun and we love so much happens to be illegal. Like say, catching as many fish as you can or driving as fast as you can. Fun stuff. Pick your own poison. What if hot sauce was made illegal? 

So from these events and ideas the story of a near future where an evil government has outlawed hot sauce. A good old boy is growing banned peppers deep in the pine forests of East Texas. To spread the freedom of the burn to the word he must avoid the authorities by stealing down the Neches Rive in a 12' flat bottom boat powered by a 1954 five and a half horsepower Johnson outboard motors. His destination is a shady connection at the river's mouth near Beaumont, Tx.

In addition to the atom bomb metaphor of peppers and hot sauce being illegal other murky environmental events, wars and domestic terrorism have rendered the river back to it's free flowing state and made many technologies such as modern outboard motors with computer brains that require fancy gas, oils and lubricants useless. 

With the relentless rain and flooding we have had lately I doubt you could find your way down the main river channel so you are probably getting the idea by now. A good, honest man takes on evil, injustice, and global warming. The animals are his allies and are led by the Macho Mockingbird. He wins by being the spiciest guy around.

Actually I think a rough draft or first take on this idea exists on paper somewhere. It's probably in a pretty crude state but it might be an idea that comes to maturity one day. 

In the mean time keep an eye on lawmakers. You never know what they are thinking. 

If I show up with a Macho Mockingbird tattoo maybe you better get one too.             

   

 

George Harrison In Illinois...

In September 1963 the Beatles were unknown in America. They were gaining fame in England with their first LP "Please Please Me" and had played 200 concerts that year. They were flush with cash the first time in their lives and Paul and George took off for a vacation in Greece, John Lennon went to Paris and George Harrison visited his sister who lived in Benton, Illinois. On our recent trip to Chicago we stopped and made our photo by the mural there commemorating his visit. 

George is Cathy's favorite Beatle. The four Beatles were such public personas that if you know someone's favorite you will know more about that person than years of psychoanalysis would ever revel. I think he just got the most girls and that's why she likes him.    

This two week period that George spent in  Benton was the last carefree period of Beatle life when no one in the USA knew who they were. He stood out a bit in Benton because of his long hair. His sister Louise had shopped one of their records around to local radio stations and George himself gave away copies. George went to Fenton Music store in nearby Mount Vernon and purchased a Rickenbacker 425 guitar for $400. It was like a black one Lennon owned but it had the more desirable fireglo red finish and Harrison had the shop owner paint it black to match the dark suits and guitars of the rest of the band. That guitar was used on "I Want to Hold Your Hand" sold at auction in 2014 for $675,000. 

It was a coincidence that when we saw a road sign "Mount Vernon 1 mile" that the Harrison penned tune from the Beatles Revolver album "Taxman" came up on random play on my car's zip drive.

In addition to taking in American culture and cars Louise introduced George to local musicians and he played a VFW gig with a local band called the Four Vests. George did not play Beatle songs but instead chose rockabilly and Hank Williams tunes. It's been a while since I played a VFW gig but at the last one I did Hank was still popular with that crowd. 

By the end of September George returned to England. He told locals he would try to get his band to play Benton but in 1964 the Beatles played the Ed Sullivan Show and the rest is history. Benton fell on had times and like a lot of small town America I'm not sure how much town is left. While we did not get off Highway 57 to drive through I think Louise's home has been restored to it's 1963 look. 

In a letter George wrote to Louise about the town and his visit he said:

 “They’re great people. They were glad to see me—not because I’m a Beatle, but because I’m me.”

Maybe that's why George is Cathy's favorite. 

 

           

 

How Many Records Were Made, How Many Do I Have and How Many More are There...

 I often browse the thrift stores and flea markets for used records. If in the big city I find stores dedicated to new and used records sales. Thomas Edison invented the phonograph in 1877. It was a device playing metal cylinders. Technology advanced and improved and by 1901 there were ten inch records that played for 3 to 4 minutes. There have been some ups and downs as formats come and go but there have been a lot of records manufactured in past 120 years. In 2020 alone there were 27.5 million records sold in the USA. 

It's staggering to think how many records there might be in landfills. The thrift store had less than 100 on hand to browse but there was a nice selection of big band type music. Not original copies or anything but reissues and compilations of the best hits. They are not collectable so that makes them cheap and it's good music, clear recordings and the records were bought by people who took care of their stuff, not like a rock record that might have hit a dorm room floor a few times in the 70s. 

With all these records made it's a bit daunting to think how many groups there were recording. It still is daunting to think about this now days because it's easier to make a hit in your bedroom than ever thanks to digitalized technology. Good sounding new music can just pass you by but yesterday I found a record by a big band leader I had never heard of, Blue Barron. It's a reissue from 1979. On the back of the cover jacket is an address to write the record company for more information. Try and find that on a digital copy.  

 Blue Barron was born Harry Friedman in 1913. The band's first gig was in 1936 and other than during WW2 when everyone was in the service it continued working till the 60s. They were similar to the big bands of Guy Lombardo in that they played "sweet" as opposed to bands of the era playing "swing." In 1949 Blue had a million selling record with "Cruising Down the River."

Blue Barron has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He passed away in 2005 and had worked for his brother in law who owned hotels and oil fields since his retirement from music brought on by changing styles of the times. 

I did research the tuba player, Walter Major listed on the album. I found no mention of him anywhere on the internet but he does have a horn like mine and now when you google his name my blog will show up. 

Keep those records out of the landfills!