Our leaders are mostly ordinary. Most are well below ordinary. Some however, rise well above that status. In my mind, Nelson Mandela was one of those in the latter category. He will be missed. There will be much said about him today.
The White House tweets that if Congress doesn't act by the end of the year, 1.3 million Americans will lose their unemployment benefits. As the 9 percenters only work 6 or 7 more days, that likelihood seems real. And once again, the majority of the house whose daily talking points complain that their adversaries are not listening to the American people are complicit in continuing to shrink the government to a size that they can "drown in a bathtub."
Today's humstle is Ai Du. One of its versions comes from a collaboration between the late Ali Farka Toure and Ry Cooder when they made a record called Talking Timbuktu. Cooder is pretty amazing in that his career has taken some very interesting turns in the past 10 to fifteen years. You may remember the bathtub scene, in Adrian Lyne's Unfaithful. This song was playing. To me, it's beautifully done. And an RIP goes out to Toure who passed in 2007.
Jacoby Ellsbury? I guess your Yankee table is ready.
I miss The Rockford Files. do you?
Sen. Kay Hagen of North Carolina is pretty aghast at Citizens United vs Board of Elections. She's circulating a petition. It's the 10th or so, that I've seen. I don't sign them anymore. I hate to paraphrase or quote Donald Rumsfeld but in essence he said you have to fight with the army you have, not the one you'd like to have. Citizen United is a pretty awful thing. But that doesn't seem to stop people from raising vast sums of dark money to fund their political agendas. In Senator Hagen's state, there is a businessman named Art Pope. I won't get into a windy diatribe about this person, but if you're interested in what has happened in North Carolina in the past few years (and how a legislature that had been Democratic since the 1870's flipped and is now Republican dominated) take some time and read about him.* But back to Kay Hagen--
Senator, you can hate the players and/or you can hate the game. But this is the game you've got, not the one you'd like to have. So, while we go on signing petitions, dark money continues to do its dark work. Find the billionaires who can start the PACS that provide the money and resources to combat what you don't like. The way to get rid of Citizens United is to be better at it than your opponents. Once they have lost elections, they will demand that such a travesty be repealed.
Antonin Scalia made a prescient observation on Constitutional flexibility. I'm going to paraphrase: Persuade people to enact that which you believe to be important. That's flexibility.
*Start with the great work of some of my favorite people, Rachel Maddow and her staff. Like her, hate her, she does good reporting. She checks her facts. She informs. She strives to get facts correct. Anne Royall would be proud of her. Yup, Casey Stengal said it, "you could look it up."- Anne Royall, that is.
I hope you all have a wonderful and safe weekend. This blooger has gotten nearly 1000 visits in the short time I've been doing this. I deeply appreciate that you look in from time to time. Thank you.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Dumber than a sack of smashed assholes
December 31st, 1969. The coldest night I had ever experienced and the night I could have died.
When I was much younger, I worked as a deliveryman for several pizza joints. I could blast the radio, keep to myself and bring hungry people hot food. I got a quarter per delivery and whatever tips I got as my pay. No hourly wage. Just that and all you could eat. Made pretty good money and it was a contest to see how many lights I could avoid and alleys I could use to cut down the delivery time. In those days (This was 1969), we'd stuff the food into aluminum "hotboxes." in the rear of this box was a little drawer into which a propane heater would sit. You had to light it and it really kept stuff hot. When you were done for the night, you'd extinguish it, bring it inside and go on your way. All day, I was really preoccupied because the temperature was -19. The overnight temps were supposed to drop to nearly -30. That kind of weather can preoccupy anybody.
But of course, this story is only partially about my job and the cold weather. It's really about the events that happened on the day of one of my most memorable shows. I had flunked out of school and had to return home to try and stay in school, and this was the end of a semester I hadn't finished. One of my good buddies was getting a ride up to Chicago and we were going to go to a show that night. It was at an old skating rink that was redone as a psychedelic venue similar to the some of the legendary venues in San Francisco and New York. The Electric Theatre. What a place this was!! Classic, with light shows bouncing multi color protoplasm off the walls, "privacy booths" in the shape of mushrooms, cages for "go-go dancers"; the whole shebang! Earlier in 1968, One of the first shows I'd seen there had been Country Joe & The Airplane (among MANY others) and even though it changed names over the next few years, it was always a hoot to go to. I really saw some great shows there and to be honest, some real stinkers. This night, however, was Muddy Waters, The Byrds and Fleetwood Mac. The Byrds were playing their first show where allegedly, Jim McGuinn had changed his first name to Roger. I was also really looking forward to the Macs because it was the uh era where you could really enjoy Peter Green and Jeremy Spencer. Loved the two lead guitar thing. The Byrds started, and were trying to grow into their Sweetheart of the Rodeo mojo. On this night, rumor had it that they were going to be joined by Sneaky Pete Kleinow on pedal steel guitar; at least for this show Muddy was next and the Macs would bring in the New Year. Across the country, The Band Of Gypsies was doing the same thing at the Fillmore East. Now NYE shows are pretty standard. I couldn't wait to get there.
So, I'm delivering in the cold, the box is red hot and I'm rushing to finish. I had asked my boss for an early launch and he was OK with it. Pulled the box out of the car, count my dough, check out and I'm on my way home to meet my friend who sported a great Afro. Of course as I get in the door, all "pleasantries" are exchanged and I excuse myself to wash up and change my clothes. My mother is in tow (out of earshot) haranguing me about the Afro and) "can't he get a fuckin' haircut??) I'm sure this hardly ever happened to any of you who either were or had "flamboyant" friends in the late 60's.
After a little "sumpin sumpin" we're ready get on our way. We were starting to feel very agreeable and despite most denials over the years by people who knew the truth, those sorts of things (who me??) do dull your senses a little. It is freaking cold as hell and as we approach my car, we see nothing but a bright white hue coming from inside the car. I turn to my friend and ask, WTF is that? Long story short, the heating element had dislodged at some point and burned through the seat and if we didn't get to a firehouse pretty fucking quick, the show was not going to happen that night-- and that was not an option. As you'll later read, we might not have been much of an option either. We pulled up to a firehouse in a very residential neighborhood and after some laughter subsided, the seriousness of the situation kind of trumped the sight of two hippie idiots in their midst. They screamed at us to get out of the way and they hit that car with lots of cold water; inside and out. They're pretty good at that kind of stuff so the fire was extinguished and I was told that the fire had been directly over where the gas tank was. I was a kinetic car bomb and didn't know it. We thanked the firemen and offered them what we had. They weren't the "first responder heroes" in those days as they are now, so we were told that we were "dumber than a sack of smashed assholes" and we should get a haircut, a job and a bar of soap and get the hell out of there. It was a wet and freezing car. Because we could have blown up the whole block, everyone was relieved when they gave us the all clear. I think I could tell by the non-stop laughter and maybe a side of derision? They did tell us it was a miracle we didn't blow the fuck up and die that night. You can be good, but it never hurts to be lucky as well.
Never missed a note. The Byrds were a little too impaired and didn't quite jell with their set. But they were still legends and we really enjoyed it anyway. It began a real affinity I had with the pedal steel guitar- and still do. Muddy was particularly good, but the Macs came on at 11:00 and blew the fucking roof off the building. They played until dawn and like many shows, we walked out feeling as if we were only 5'5'. I swear we were 6'0" when we walked in. You may know the feeling.
The car was encased with ice inside and out and wouldn't start. We didn't feel so bad because on the buses (three) we took back to my house, we heard stories from others who were on the bus now, but who had driven somewhere earlier in the evening. It got down to -27 and nobody's car started. Had to get the SOB thawed out though. I was working New Year's Night. Nothing like Pizza and Football. Ohio State beat USC 27-16 to win the game and the national championship. Rex Kern got MVP, edging out a guy named Orenthal James Simpson, who had a pretty good day himself. One day, he wouldn't have such a good day-- or so the story goes.
Of course, Jimi, Buddy Miles and Billy Cox got a record out of their show and I still have it on vinyl. With all of the technologies that emerged from that point on, I wish somebody had made of recording of this show.
Dumber than a sack of smashed assholes?? Everybody can sign their name on that wall at some time or another This day was all mine. Thought you'd enjoy the story. Stay tuned for my Bill Evans Trio story; coming to a blog near you, in the future.
I am starting a different I was thinking about section. It contains fictional characters or people who changed their names. In the future, they'll all get mixed in together.
Carl Spackler
Vance Arnold
Apu Nahasapeemapetilon
Steve McGarrett
Clarence Rutherford
Jerry Lundegaard
Betty Persky
McKinley Morganfield
A good story about one of your dumber days beats thinking about The Affordable Care Act, Rush Limbaugh calling the Pope a Marxist and Dennis Kozlowski getting out of jail--- don't you think??
P.S Hope my proofreading was successful.
When I was much younger, I worked as a deliveryman for several pizza joints. I could blast the radio, keep to myself and bring hungry people hot food. I got a quarter per delivery and whatever tips I got as my pay. No hourly wage. Just that and all you could eat. Made pretty good money and it was a contest to see how many lights I could avoid and alleys I could use to cut down the delivery time. In those days (This was 1969), we'd stuff the food into aluminum "hotboxes." in the rear of this box was a little drawer into which a propane heater would sit. You had to light it and it really kept stuff hot. When you were done for the night, you'd extinguish it, bring it inside and go on your way. All day, I was really preoccupied because the temperature was -19. The overnight temps were supposed to drop to nearly -30. That kind of weather can preoccupy anybody.
But of course, this story is only partially about my job and the cold weather. It's really about the events that happened on the day of one of my most memorable shows. I had flunked out of school and had to return home to try and stay in school, and this was the end of a semester I hadn't finished. One of my good buddies was getting a ride up to Chicago and we were going to go to a show that night. It was at an old skating rink that was redone as a psychedelic venue similar to the some of the legendary venues in San Francisco and New York. The Electric Theatre. What a place this was!! Classic, with light shows bouncing multi color protoplasm off the walls, "privacy booths" in the shape of mushrooms, cages for "go-go dancers"; the whole shebang! Earlier in 1968, One of the first shows I'd seen there had been Country Joe & The Airplane (among MANY others) and even though it changed names over the next few years, it was always a hoot to go to. I really saw some great shows there and to be honest, some real stinkers. This night, however, was Muddy Waters, The Byrds and Fleetwood Mac. The Byrds were playing their first show where allegedly, Jim McGuinn had changed his first name to Roger. I was also really looking forward to the Macs because it was the uh era where you could really enjoy Peter Green and Jeremy Spencer. Loved the two lead guitar thing. The Byrds started, and were trying to grow into their Sweetheart of the Rodeo mojo. On this night, rumor had it that they were going to be joined by Sneaky Pete Kleinow on pedal steel guitar; at least for this show Muddy was next and the Macs would bring in the New Year. Across the country, The Band Of Gypsies was doing the same thing at the Fillmore East. Now NYE shows are pretty standard. I couldn't wait to get there.
So, I'm delivering in the cold, the box is red hot and I'm rushing to finish. I had asked my boss for an early launch and he was OK with it. Pulled the box out of the car, count my dough, check out and I'm on my way home to meet my friend who sported a great Afro. Of course as I get in the door, all "pleasantries" are exchanged and I excuse myself to wash up and change my clothes. My mother is in tow (out of earshot) haranguing me about the Afro and) "can't he get a fuckin' haircut??) I'm sure this hardly ever happened to any of you who either were or had "flamboyant" friends in the late 60's.
After a little "sumpin sumpin" we're ready get on our way. We were starting to feel very agreeable and despite most denials over the years by people who knew the truth, those sorts of things (who me??) do dull your senses a little. It is freaking cold as hell and as we approach my car, we see nothing but a bright white hue coming from inside the car. I turn to my friend and ask, WTF is that? Long story short, the heating element had dislodged at some point and burned through the seat and if we didn't get to a firehouse pretty fucking quick, the show was not going to happen that night-- and that was not an option. As you'll later read, we might not have been much of an option either. We pulled up to a firehouse in a very residential neighborhood and after some laughter subsided, the seriousness of the situation kind of trumped the sight of two hippie idiots in their midst. They screamed at us to get out of the way and they hit that car with lots of cold water; inside and out. They're pretty good at that kind of stuff so the fire was extinguished and I was told that the fire had been directly over where the gas tank was. I was a kinetic car bomb and didn't know it. We thanked the firemen and offered them what we had. They weren't the "first responder heroes" in those days as they are now, so we were told that we were "dumber than a sack of smashed assholes" and we should get a haircut, a job and a bar of soap and get the hell out of there. It was a wet and freezing car. Because we could have blown up the whole block, everyone was relieved when they gave us the all clear. I think I could tell by the non-stop laughter and maybe a side of derision? They did tell us it was a miracle we didn't blow the fuck up and die that night. You can be good, but it never hurts to be lucky as well.
Never missed a note. The Byrds were a little too impaired and didn't quite jell with their set. But they were still legends and we really enjoyed it anyway. It began a real affinity I had with the pedal steel guitar- and still do. Muddy was particularly good, but the Macs came on at 11:00 and blew the fucking roof off the building. They played until dawn and like many shows, we walked out feeling as if we were only 5'5'. I swear we were 6'0" when we walked in. You may know the feeling.
The car was encased with ice inside and out and wouldn't start. We didn't feel so bad because on the buses (three) we took back to my house, we heard stories from others who were on the bus now, but who had driven somewhere earlier in the evening. It got down to -27 and nobody's car started. Had to get the SOB thawed out though. I was working New Year's Night. Nothing like Pizza and Football. Ohio State beat USC 27-16 to win the game and the national championship. Rex Kern got MVP, edging out a guy named Orenthal James Simpson, who had a pretty good day himself. One day, he wouldn't have such a good day-- or so the story goes.
Of course, Jimi, Buddy Miles and Billy Cox got a record out of their show and I still have it on vinyl. With all of the technologies that emerged from that point on, I wish somebody had made of recording of this show.
Dumber than a sack of smashed assholes?? Everybody can sign their name on that wall at some time or another This day was all mine. Thought you'd enjoy the story. Stay tuned for my Bill Evans Trio story; coming to a blog near you, in the future.
I am starting a different I was thinking about section. It contains fictional characters or people who changed their names. In the future, they'll all get mixed in together.
Carl Spackler
Vance Arnold
Apu Nahasapeemapetilon
Steve McGarrett
Clarence Rutherford
Jerry Lundegaard
Betty Persky
McKinley Morganfield
A good story about one of your dumber days beats thinking about The Affordable Care Act, Rush Limbaugh calling the Pope a Marxist and Dennis Kozlowski getting out of jail--- don't you think??
P.S Hope my proofreading was successful.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Will it be a December to remember?
Lots of headlines about car crashes, train crashes, untimely deaths, website improvement, poor coaching decisions- lots of those- but I have a couple of good stories that will never make headlines.
On Sunday, my wife and I cleaned, rearranged and restored feng shui* and order to our laundry room. It had become close to intolerable. Most of us get very busy with life and just don't notice clutter and disorder. That is stage one. Denial is stage two. A sense that it will never get done (mild despair) is #3. The will to clean it is stage 4 and the result?? I have to walk through the room to get to the garage ( I could count on one hand, the number of times I ever parked IN a garage until I was 57 years old. I had a garage before that, but it looked like my laundry room- so maybe 5 times. That speaks volumes about global warming and the lack of killer snowfalls, when you want a functional garage). {But I digress}.
So what was I asking?/ The result was that as I walked through this morning, I felt a lightness, a smile appeared on my face. And I felt a great sense of accomplishment. Little things. They matter.
Then I encountered a gentleman wearing a very clean and it appeared, rarely worn New York Knights jacket. I was getting out of my car and he was returning to his. I'm a pretty big fan of The Natural and so I decided to work him. My favorite character was Pop Fischer. He was played (superbly) by Wilford Brimley. Anyway, the guy is getting in his car, he sees me and he senses something is coming. So I say, "all these years and you never played organized ball?" And he answers, "well I sorta got sidetracked." I was going to ask him about "Wonderboy" but I thought it had been a successful moment and I decided to know when to fold em. So, I said in closing, "if the bat comes up to specs, we'll let you use it." Two smiles before 10:00 o'clock. I'll take that any day.
So, I had some words of encouragement to people who think I might be a tree hugger, that I shared with everyone in Saturday's post. At first I felt badly about it, but then I remembered that some people are all ugly all the time and rarely have anything nice to say to anyone. Pretty soon, if I can figure out how, I'm going to ask for people to send me feedback. I am told that over 800 visits in a month (all organic) is pretty good. But it's for certain that not all people who read my stuff are big fans and I have to start encouraging them to comment. Some of it may be ugly, but if you're going to write and comment and whatever else this entails, you have to expect that. So if *Feng Shui falls into your category of being negative, the Saturday message remains the same.
I am told we're not shopping enough. I am also told that the very things that created the housing bubble in the middle of the last decade are still alive and trying to be well. You can tell something is up, because interest rates are still very low, but a better barometer is that HGTV (A Scripps Network Interactive Company) has more house flipping shows on that channel. Buyers and Sellers beware. As for people spending less, may I "quote" (and recommend) an article from Mother Jones? It's The Austerity Stupid. Well written and very topical, Kevin Drum!
Todays Humstle is:
Yes- Roundabout
I used to drive from the midwest to the east coast during holidays and maybe I heard that song at least 10 times a night between the hours of midnight and dawn. We didn't sleep then. How did we do that? Oh, I remember. Another of that era that played all night was:
Maria Muldaur- Midnight at the Oasis. If you remember her, she and her husband, Geoff were part of the folk, jugband, sort of quirky music in the early 70's. Becuase it's easy to do and you don't necessarily have to buy it, give a listen to Waitress in a Donut Shop. She's a hoot. Anybody who played with John Sebastian is OK in my book. One of these days, I'll enter the 80's and 90's as far as music goes.
Last season of Treme on HBO. It's worth it to watch. And remember that 'Brownie was doing a heckuva job.'
Anyway, this day has started well. I hope yours has too and continues that way.
On Sunday, my wife and I cleaned, rearranged and restored feng shui* and order to our laundry room. It had become close to intolerable. Most of us get very busy with life and just don't notice clutter and disorder. That is stage one. Denial is stage two. A sense that it will never get done (mild despair) is #3. The will to clean it is stage 4 and the result?? I have to walk through the room to get to the garage ( I could count on one hand, the number of times I ever parked IN a garage until I was 57 years old. I had a garage before that, but it looked like my laundry room- so maybe 5 times. That speaks volumes about global warming and the lack of killer snowfalls, when you want a functional garage). {But I digress}.
So what was I asking?/ The result was that as I walked through this morning, I felt a lightness, a smile appeared on my face. And I felt a great sense of accomplishment. Little things. They matter.
Then I encountered a gentleman wearing a very clean and it appeared, rarely worn New York Knights jacket. I was getting out of my car and he was returning to his. I'm a pretty big fan of The Natural and so I decided to work him. My favorite character was Pop Fischer. He was played (superbly) by Wilford Brimley. Anyway, the guy is getting in his car, he sees me and he senses something is coming. So I say, "all these years and you never played organized ball?" And he answers, "well I sorta got sidetracked." I was going to ask him about "Wonderboy" but I thought it had been a successful moment and I decided to know when to fold em. So, I said in closing, "if the bat comes up to specs, we'll let you use it." Two smiles before 10:00 o'clock. I'll take that any day.
So, I had some words of encouragement to people who think I might be a tree hugger, that I shared with everyone in Saturday's post. At first I felt badly about it, but then I remembered that some people are all ugly all the time and rarely have anything nice to say to anyone. Pretty soon, if I can figure out how, I'm going to ask for people to send me feedback. I am told that over 800 visits in a month (all organic) is pretty good. But it's for certain that not all people who read my stuff are big fans and I have to start encouraging them to comment. Some of it may be ugly, but if you're going to write and comment and whatever else this entails, you have to expect that. So if *Feng Shui falls into your category of being negative, the Saturday message remains the same.
I am told we're not shopping enough. I am also told that the very things that created the housing bubble in the middle of the last decade are still alive and trying to be well. You can tell something is up, because interest rates are still very low, but a better barometer is that HGTV (A Scripps Network Interactive Company) has more house flipping shows on that channel. Buyers and Sellers beware. As for people spending less, may I "quote" (and recommend) an article from Mother Jones? It's The Austerity Stupid. Well written and very topical, Kevin Drum!
Todays Humstle is:
Yes- Roundabout
I used to drive from the midwest to the east coast during holidays and maybe I heard that song at least 10 times a night between the hours of midnight and dawn. We didn't sleep then. How did we do that? Oh, I remember. Another of that era that played all night was:
Maria Muldaur- Midnight at the Oasis. If you remember her, she and her husband, Geoff were part of the folk, jugband, sort of quirky music in the early 70's. Becuase it's easy to do and you don't necessarily have to buy it, give a listen to Waitress in a Donut Shop. She's a hoot. Anybody who played with John Sebastian is OK in my book. One of these days, I'll enter the 80's and 90's as far as music goes.
Last season of Treme on HBO. It's worth it to watch. And remember that 'Brownie was doing a heckuva job.'
Anyway, this day has started well. I hope yours has too and continues that way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)