Day 1 Again I set off with my friend Babakar. The Headwhiz album is getting close to completion but once again a trip I had planned came up so this time I just went ahead and suggested Babakar go with me. As we’d had a blast last September I figured we might try it again. This time we were heading to the Gulf of Mexico on the Alabama coast. My Dad and step mom used to winter there and I had always loved the atmosphere. Very relaxed so when the city forced us to take furlough days I figured a spring vacation was in store. Its funny because if I had thought of it sooner I could have gone somewhere that Babakar might have wanted to go. Maybe next trip if he is still in the country. Again we had everything packed and ready to go the morning of the first day. Babakar stayed at the Mind Fry compound the night before. We wanted to get up early and hit the road and put a lot of asphalt underneath us the first day. The drive the first day was long. Almost 8 hours and I did it all. Babakar offered to drive I declined. He mainly rode a horse when he had to get somewhere so I really didn’t want him driving. In fact because it was a rental car I was the only one allowed to drive. I had set this up this way intentionally. We stopped a lot. I think we only skipped one rest stop opportunity all day. We listened to a lot of music on the way down. Kentucky is a very pretty state to drive through. Lots of rocky hills and rolling roads. It was great because this time we’d gotten a rental car with a direct line to Lisa Sue back at the Mind Fry compound and she could tell us directly when to get on this road and what not so we didn’t even need a map, we had one, but we didn’t need one. Just good ol’ Linda Sue. Of course this meant not staying on the road all day because she needs her time off. She said she had to be at the office anyway getting the design together for the Headwhiz album and most of the trip, the first day, involved just I-71South. It was fun. Of course it was weird because she would type the information in and a voice came out all computer sounding, there was none of the normal gentle tones of her sweet sounding voice. As with the Badlands we started the trip with a Dylan compilation. Not sure why he sounds so good at the beginning of an adventure like this but he does. Amongst other artists were Billy Bragg, Deb Talon, Zakir Hussein and more. It was fun just driving along listening. The car had cruise control so that was cool. Eventually we got to the Drury Inn in Bowling Green Kentucky and as we were approaching the exit for it we were being passed by about a dozen Corvettes (We had just passed the Corvette Museum a couple miles back.). They all pulled off and headed to the Drury so when we get to the inn there is a line 12 deep. We decided not to check in and we would go in search of some good small batch Kentucky bourbon. We find a store. It has a nice array of bourbons. I ask the guy for recommendations and he says with his Kentucky drawl and the vocal inflection of the voice behind the Wizard of Oz that about 4 he would recommend. I grab one and thank him. He hardly acknowledges me (the bastard...). I also buy a bottle opener as we have cold beer in the trunk. That is what I want more than anything is a cold beer after all this driving. The whiskey would be for later. So we drive back to the Drury and the line is gone and a young lady named China checks me in. She seems nice enough although I sense that she is only nice in the professional sense. Nice because its good for her job and the business. I didn’t necessarily sense she would be nice if you knew her in some other context. Babakar said he didn’t see that in her and asked me how I came to that conclusion. “I just know Babakar, I just know...” was all I could tell him. He would accept that although he still didn’t agree. We got to the room and went about setting up shop. I plugged the computer in and he grabbed the ice bucket. Even though he drank way less than I did he always grabbed the ice bucket immediately. What a guy! I pulled out my guitar, we again both brought axes, strummed it gently and then put it down. At this point Babakar came in with the ice. I offered him a Blonde, that was the beer, an organic California Blonde Ale, and he accepted. I opened his first and then one for myself. The first pull on it was a long slow one and I listened to the sound of the beer being swallowed through he vibrations in my skull. It sounded like it was a quenching experience and indeed it was. We both smiled at each other understanding just how good that first taste was for each other, especially after the long drive. “John, there is a slight problem I think with your plans to swim.” Babakar said. “What’s that?” “Well I just walked by the pool and it is filled with lot’s of loud screaming children. It seems there is some type of boys softball tournament and many are staying here. “ ”Hmmm.. Oh well, you’re right though I don’t want to swim now. We could jam quietly if you want. “Actually I might read for a bit, feel free to play though I won’t be bothered.” But I didn’t play I sat at the computer for a while and then wrote in my journal. After a bit we both had a nip of the small batch and then went out in search of some food. The room had a nuke and a fridge. We walked up the road where there was a Kroger. We ended up getting some nuts and fruit, cheese, wine and some boneless teriyaki wings, those were for me (Babakar was wise in not eating then...). We returned to the room and the pool was still teeming with those vermin. Too bad it was just too crowded. Now if had been nubile babes in that concentration I would have indeed jumped in. Heh heh heh... After we ate we had a little more whiskey when I noticed it was a 90 proof. “Better watch this stuff. I had done that one night with a single malt and the next day I noticed it was 94 proof and knew why my head fell like it was filled with dried cotton. Day 2 We took our time leaving Bowling Green because the drive to Birmingham was only 4 hours. Babakar had gotten up early and gone for a walk while I slept off some of the small batch. By the time he got back it was time for breakfast and we went down to it together. There was a group of men older than either of us. From their loud talk it seemed they were here to golf. Alabama is known for the Robert Trent Jones Golf Trail which I believe is a series of professional level golf courses (though we were in Kentucky... I assumed they were heading that way. They may have well been playing courses in Kentucky who knows???) . Not being a golfer I’m not up on that much. I leaned forward to Babakar and said quietly “You think by the volume that they were the only folks in the breakfast room or possibly the world” A small smile crossed Babakar’s face. Later when we were back at the room I asked him what he thought of them. He declined to comment merely saying he didn’t know them well enough. “But you have to admit they were loud?” “Yes this is true.” “I mean do you think the lady and her small boy sitting over I the corner really needed to hear what these guys were saying? It’s just their attitude. You get the impression that everyone around them gives them their way and so they just assume that everyone else, who doesn’t know them, will too. It’s arrogant.” “Perhaps.” So I worked on a story for a bit while Babakar played softly on his guitar. It was a nice combination. He was working on something I could tell. He kept playing one part over and over and then trying to make a change. Every now and then I could tell he had made a little advance in the composition because something slight would change and then as he kept playing it he always played it that way. It was interesting to observe. I wondered if I did the same thing when I worked on music. I probably did. We finally left around 10:30. Once again I drove and Lisa Sue guided us with her electronic voice. The drive was uneventful. Again we stopped often to stretch and we even remembered to steal some plastic ware from the Drury so we could make peanut butter sandwiches. We got to Birmingham and went right to the Wingate hotel. We got our stuff in and set up and then it was off to Vulcan Park. This is where the largest Cast Iron statue in the world is. It’s the god Vulcan, god of fire and forge, and he stands on this great big tower that is about 6 stories high. We went to the top via the stairs. There is an elevator but the stairs were more intriguing and healthier too. I took photos as we ascended and then when we got to the top it was a little scary. There were girder type things that held the meshed surface you walked on. I tried to make sure where I stepped was over a girder. Babakar seemed less fearful of the heights. We stayed up there and there were some fine views of downtown Birmingham. Then we went down and went into the Vulcan museum. There was a section that included historical bits of the city to it wasn’t just about Vulcan, although there was a good bit of that. The section on the Civil Rights era in the city was very intriguing. After seeing that we decided to head down to that section of the city where the Civil Rights Institute was. Unfortunately it was closed by the time we got there. Missed it by minutes. So we hung out and went through a Freedom Walk around the Kelly Ingram Park. There were water cannons and some other sculpture. There was one metal sculpture of the infamous dogs that were used. As you walked through it 3 of them were lunging out at you. It was eerie. At one point a women came up asking for money but she was indecipherable. I kept asking what she was saying but the words were jumbled. She had no teeth and a crazy look in her eye. Finally Babakar said “She wants some money and took a 5 out and handed it to her. She smiled and sat back down on the bench she’d been sitting when we came by. Babakar was very quiet as we read the different placards and stood before the statue of Martin Luther King Jr. It was a moving experience. All the things that have gone on and all the hatred and pain that has been caused simply because of the color of peoples skin. It is stunning. The hate that could be caused by the ignorance of prejudice. It is stunning. Even today it still exists. I do get the impression that the kids today are less concerned with that type of thing. This is good. Perhaps in time prejudice will disappear. Eventually we left but we stayed there a long time. At one point Babakar just sat on a bench while I continued to read some of the placards and take a few pictures. We finally left there and headed to get dinner. We passed by some trendy places but finally settled on a Carrabba’s. I’d only eaten at a Carrabba’s one other time when Dan and I were stuck in the Fort Meyers airport because the flight attendant had popped the escape ramp and we had to spend an extra night there trapped in a shopping area with no car. But that’s a story for another day. It was good. We sat at the bar and talked to the lovely bartender. She hardly seemed old enough to be serving alcohol. Thin with dark hair and eyes. A very pretty smile. “Babakar, I’m having impure thoughts” I whispered to him. He smiled and said nothing. The dinner was good enough but the wine was very good. We each drank a couple glasses of the Ravenswood. Then we went to the room and by that time it was going on 10 so we had a night cap and then crashed. Day 3 We got out of Birmingham around 10. We could have waited but we both did what we needed to do in the morning in terms of reading, writing, playing etc and there was no reason not to leave. Today we would hit the gulf coast. This was the big enchilada. The reason for the trip. Actually the reason for the trip was just to get away. I could have gone almost anywhere at this point. Not going away wasn’t acceptable and this was something I had wanted to do for a while. Just come hang out on the Gulf. So we drove south and the drive was uneventful. As we moved farther south the landscape was being taken over by a lot of pine. There was still the bright green of the deciduous trees in the spring but the pine and evergreen were starting to dominate the landscape. I-65 is at this point a relatively boring route. Long ribbon of highway. As always we stopped a lot. South of Montgomery we even made peanut butter sandwiches and drank a cold beer. I know you aren’t suppose to but we wanted to and it tasted so dang good. Especially when we first stepped out of the car and the air was noticeably warmer and more humid. We were in the south. It felt like it for the first time on the trip. We had heard the southern drawl as far north as Kentucky but this was the first time it was warm... warm and humid. We sat by one of the picnic tables with our beers poured into our travel mugs for covertness sake and just chilled sipping the frothy goodness of this organic blonde ale. We also had Bass ale but today we wanted the organic. So we finished our beers and continued on our way. Things went well and soon we were getting off I-65 and heading south on the Gulf Shores Parkway. (Alabama route 59, I think). Boy did that sound good. We dropped the windows all the way cranked up some music (Midnight Oil- Diesel and Dust if I recall correctly) and were getting there. The sense of the oceans nearness was palpable. Then there was trouble. Linda Sue’s directions were erroneous. We knew when we set off there could be problems because the Loop road the hotel was on wasn’t yet registered into the data base Lisa Sue was using to guide us. She told us to take a right on Collegiate Avenue but there was no road. Then she says to take another right which takes us right in front of the Orange Beach Police Headquarters, us with our beer stained travel mugs. Finally I told Linda Sue to shut up and quit saying anything. ( I realized later that I had been rude.) I used my human instinct and pretty soon we were on Perdido Beach Blvd. I stopped at a light and notice the Winn Dixie that we had used when visiting my father and step mother. Lo and behold the Fairfield is right next to it. I take a right and tell Lisa Sue that we are here and we both thank her for her constant guidance. We would contact her for the return trip. I went in and checked into the room and Babakar and I started carrying things up. The room had a fridge which I could have paid extra for so that was good because we didn’t. I would need to get more beer... we only had 3 left. It was about 3:30. We sat and rested for a bit. We both opened a beer. Babakar had the last Bass while I drank organic. He played guitar gently as we enjoyed our beers. My hands were tired from grabbing the wheel so I didn’t feel like playing. I decided to take a walk to the beach. Babakar said he would stay there for a bit. I grabbed a coffee from the lobby and took it with me. There was an access boardwalk just across the road from the Winn Dixie shopping center. I walked and as I got to the end of the walk the beach opened up and there it was the Gulf Of Mexico. I had arrived. It was gorgeous. It was rather calm. The waves hitting the shore were very small . There were a lot of plovers and other fast moving long beaked type birds running amongst the water that was coming inn. I just stood and took it all in. Then I started to walk down the beach. There was a great Blue Heron standing on the beach about 30 feet ahead. Now the Herons in Cleveland take off well before you get that close but this one just stood there. As I was within 10 feet of him his mouth opened and he wiggled his tongue at my (much like the Canadian Geese will do up north), but I kept walking and he didn’t budge. I should have attacked him and snapped his neck just to teach to never trust a human, but I didn’t. After walking a ways down the beach I decided to turn back. About ½ way I ran into Babakar. We stopped and chatted for a bit. “I thought I might find you.” He said and he handed me my travel mug. It had cold beer in it. “Dude, you rock. Didn’t you want the last one?” “No I’ve had enough beer for the time being. We can get more at the Winn Dixie. I’m going to keep walking for a bit. I will see you back at the room John.” he said and of course that meant he felt like walking alone. I can’t say I blame him although at this point I certainly would have joined him. After he returned we went and got dinner. We were tired at that point and it was late so we settled for what was within walking distance. Hazels. Don’t eat at Hazel’s. It wasn’t very good. I had the shrimp etouffle and while I ate it, it gave me no pleasure. Babakar went for the seafood buffet. He said it was alright. Now Babakar doesn’t like to say bad stuff about people or things so a rating of ‘ok’ from him is tantamount to “this is crap” from me. So we went back to the room and had a night cap. At that point I fell asleep while watching tv. Babakar had gone out to get some of the night air into his system. I’m not sure when he got back. But he turned the TV off and the next thing I knew I was awake and it was still dark out. Day 4 I looked out the window and sunrise didn’t seem imminent. I wanted to get up and see if I could catch the sunrise on camera. I got up and went to the lobby and poured a couple cups of coffee, they had that there 24 hours. It was old but it had caffeine in it and it meant not having to risk waking Babakar making that tolerable but not preferred ‘pod’ coffee in the room. I drank 3 cups while sitting in the lobby looking out on the lake that was behind the hotel. Feeling energized I walked over to the beach. The same heron was standing in the same spot. I am assuming it was the same although I really have no idea. I walked out to the area where I would be as close to the water as I could without risking getting my pants wet (I’d worn long pants because it was cool this early.) I looked to the east and there it was. SOL! Rising just above the horizon so I was seeing a good 85% of the disk the rest was blocked by the clouds. It was kind of overcast but right at the horizon there were no clouds so this wonderful glowing orange disk would appear and then disappear into the clouds it was rising behind. It was a beautiful site. It was a powerful sight. I snapped off several pictures and then concentrated on the small plovers that were zipping here and there sticking their long beaks into the ground like a hypodermic and then zipping off to do the same somewhere else. They were awesome to watch. Then I noticed out in the water a dolphin. I had never seen dolphins live in the wild and here one just jumped out of the water. I grabbed my camera and set it on video and started to watch and shoot. There were many of them. At one point I could distinguish at least 8 different dolphins. For the most part I would just see their dorsal fins roll out of the water and then disappear. None dove like the one that caught my attention. But still it was very cool to see. I stood there a long time watching them when I felt a presence. Sure enough I turn and its Babakar. “Dude, you’re up.” “Yes once the sun started to lighten things up I usually wake up. Here.” and he handed me a cup of coffee.” “Dude you rock, thanks. Look there are dolphins out there. You can see their fins roll out of the water every now and then.” I said. “Over there, 2 side by side, they are in love.” Babakar speculated. Then one of the dolphins started to jump out of the water and move towards the shore where we were standing. I was afraid he was going to beach himself when suddenly I heard Babakar say “Oh my goodness, my friend, my friend.” And the dolphin came close to the shore and projected out of the water like Flipper used to do on the tv show. That was when Babakar ripped off his shirt and went running into the water. “Babakar, what are you doing?” I yelled but he was laughing and then diving into the water. He grabbed the dolphin and they rolled around a bit in the water with the dolphin nudging him and pushing him out of the water. I heard Babakar let out a release of laughter as his body was flipped up out of the water only to go splashing into it again. Finally after minutes of this interaction between he and the dolphin he stood up with the water about waste high and yelled to me. “Don’t be alarmed. We know each other. I met him years ago on the Senegal River when I was down in Banjul. I am just surprised to see him on this side of the Atlantic.” Then he dove back in and amidst the splashing I could have sworn I heard Babakar making dolphin sounds. It was like he could talk to the dolphin. He motioned for me to dive in. I was feeling rather odd but I peeled my shirt off and dove in, long pants and all. I swam out to where the 2 were in the water. “John, meet my dolphin friend and then he said to the dolphin “this is my good friend John. We make music together. The dolphin nodded his head up and down like he understood.” “So Babakar, while nothing about you surprises me any more but, were you actually talking ‘dolphin’ to him?” “Yes. He also understands English but cannot speak it. To be honest I am not very fluent in his language either. A lot of what I was saying was the equivalent of whoopee, yahoo and what not. We are just happy to see each other again.” “Ok then..., that is pretty fascinating, ya know?” “I know John, do not be alarmed or freaked out.” So we stayed in the water for a while and eventually I was getting cold. I decide to leave and let them to get reacquainted. I returned to the hotel and showered and shaved and then fell asleep for bit. When I woke Babakar still hadn’t come back so I called up a bike rental place and got a bike. They would deliver it to the hotel. I knew Babakar wasn’t interested in riding so I didn’t bother getting one for him. When the bike arrived I went to the front of the hotel to meet the guy delivering it and Babakar was walking in. “You weren’t interested in joining me were you?” I asked just to make sure. “No I think I’m going to go write for a bit.” He said and smiled. Despite the smile there was something sad in his demeanor. So it seemed to me. It briefly concerned me but being the self centered bastard that I am I pushed that thought aside and turned to thinking about my bike ride. I made the arrangements with the bike guy to pick the bike up the next day after 3. It turns out the bike guy went to school at Kent State. He was telling me how they used to drive up from Kent to Cleveland and watch Jim Brown play football for the Browns. Small world. Then I got on and took off riding. It was a big 3 speed with big round tires with big whitewalls on them and it had coaster brakes. This was probably the most difficult thing to get used to. I was used hand brakes normally so every time, initially anyway, I quit pedaling I would actually start braking. This was something I eventually figured out. I started off along Perdido Beach Blvd. for a while and then saw the entrance to Gulf Shores State Park and turned in there. It was wonderful. The clouds were a bit overcast so I wasn’t even sweating all that much. It was the south but it was early enough in the year where the humidity hadn’t kicked up too much yet plus there was the ocean breeze. I had a map of the parks bike paths the bike guy had given me. And I set out to ride all of them. It was magnificent. Here I was riding through this great park with the Spanish moss hanging from the trees and the different plants and birds that were here as opposed to what I was used to in the midwest. I have to say seeing this big old tree with gobs and gobs of Spanish moss just dripping off it was a sight. I had to stop and just stare for a bit. One other thing I saw, and I saw it a little too close for my comfort, was a gator. I was riding along and 2 women on bikes approached me and as they passed one said “There’s a Gator on the path by the bridge.” I said “Thanks” and when they were out of sight I hit the brakes I progressed slowly. As I approached the bridge I didn’t see a gator on the path, which would have been obvious I was thinking. So it must have moved off. Now my heart really started to pound. I wasn’t sure if gator’s blended in so they could come out of no where and eat me or if they stood out so you couldn’t miss them. I wasn’t sure how leery you should be of them. Was it like a skunk in Ohio where you just let it know you are there and don’t startle it and it won’t bother you or do you avoid them at all costs. I inched forward getting ready to shove the bike at the gator and take off running. Then as I was almost to the bridge I saw it. It was off to the left down below the bridges railing. It probably couldn’t get me quickly from there so I got on the bike and rode across the bridge. As I did this it opened its mouth and made a gator noise. I kept pedaling looking over my shoulder. I stopped once I was out of the gator area and looked a the map. The path looked like it went out to Perdido Beach Blvd. So I figured I would do that and then ride out of the park and then back to the inn. But the map was wrong. The path ended and it became so sandy that I couldn’t ride through it. I had to go back, which meant going past the gator again. I’d had enough of having the crap scared out of me and really didn’t want to do this but I had no choice. So I started to pedal back with much trepidation. Then after about 5 minutes luck smiled upon me. The bike path crossed a service road that took you out to Perdido Beach Blvd. So, whether I was suppose to ride there or not I was doing it. I got out to Perdido Beach Blvd. And headed east towards the inn. When I got back Babakar was napping. I sat and wrote in my journal when I noticed a gator sunning himself on the shore of the lake behind the inn. I grabbed my camera and ran down the steps, jumped on the bike and rode over there to get some pictures. From this distance I didn’t feel it was dangerous. By the time I got over there the gator was back in the water but I still got a few shots of his head moving through he water. Just like the Tarzan movies or something. When I got back on the bike it felt good riding so I headed east on the boulevard towards the Perdido Bay bridge and rode across that. I stopped on top of the bridge and just gazed north at the bay. It was a great view from up there, except they had chain link fencing up, probably to dissuade suicidal types from jumping. Then I kept riding and soon was coasting at a fast pace on the down side of the bridge. I rode this way for about a half an hour. I had a back wind which meant riding into it on the way back. I didn’t care. I felt magnificent. Eventually I turned around and faced the head wind and just took my time. When I got back I took the bike up into the room as I was pretty sure I wouldn’t use it again today. Babakar was up when I came in with a guitar in his hand. “It was nice meeting your friend Babakar. Kind of amazing ya know.” I said. The whole time I had been riding this was something that was on my mind. “It is, I am lucky he trusts me.” “He didn’t care that you told me.” I asked. “No he trust me, he knows I wouldn’t tell the wrong people.” I smiled, I was glad I fell in the category of trustworthy folks and said “Ya up for some seafood?” “Yes. I have much hunger.” he said. He seemed happier than when he’d come back from the beach earlier. “Well lets get some place better than Hazels. That sucked.” I said. After a cocktail in the room of the small batch we decided on a place call Big Fish based on the opinion of the women at the front desk. It was a short drive from the inn up on Canal Rd. It had outside seating which we opted for. We were seated by a lovely women with curly blonde locks and what I thought was a German accent. We both had the catch of the day which was Halibut. I had mine blackened while Babakar had his grilled. It was excellent. We split a bottle of Pinot Noir and had a long enjoyable meal. Of course the conversation turned to his dolphin friend who I still was amazed by. He told me much. It turns out he met him originally while vacationing n Banjul the capitol of The Gambia. He was staying at a hotel right on the Senegal River and while swimming the dolphin approached. He understood English. He had acquired that ability when he was a captive dolphin. He managed to escape and was always very fearful of humans. He held no malice towards them because he felt they were not as bright and didn’t feel you couldn’t hate someone because they are stupid. But he sensed something was different about Babakar and approached him. As Babakar spoke to him he noticed that the dolphin seemed to genuinely understand him. He started to ask him questions of a yes/no type and the dolphin would nod yes or shake his head from side to side. Eventually he had taught Babakar some rudimentary dolphin. They have been friends ever since. He often goes to Banjul and runs into him. He has even run into him at the mouth of the Senegal river up near Saint Louis in the north of Senegal. He said he never knew that he traveled this far from the African coast. He said he was with a female companion and some other friends of his. They were not real happy that he had been so blatant in approaching me. But they also knew that along this coast the people on the land are pretty passive and non-threatening. By the time we finished the last drop of wine it was well after sunset so we returned to the hotel and had a night cap and then crashed. It had been a long wonderful and amazing day. I would not have a day like this again for some time, if ever, I was thinking as I drifted off to sleep. Day 5 So of course the next morning I woke first. I went to the lobby and got a coffee and went on line to check out rooms for the return trip. I figured I might as well do this. Babakar would be up soon enough. I found rooms in Decatur, Alabama and then the last night would be in Cincinnati. As I printed out the itinerary Babakar appeared. We went over to the breakfast area and got our food and a table near the window. “Do you think we will see him again today?” I asked as we sat down to some coffee and bagels. “He was with a lady friend so perhaps not. It would be good to see him but if not I will see him back in Senegal at some point. We went to the shore and were wandering along the beach with the waves being very calm and the sea not quite glass but surprisingly still. It was about as still as I had ever seen it in my few experiences here on the gulf. I, of course, was wading ever deeper. Soon my shorts were completely soaked. The water was still kind of cold so I wasn’t really planning on doing a full immersion. Then I noticed a look come across Babakar’s face as he watched me from the shore. It was fear and horror. I felt something bump awkwardly and it spun me around because it was big. That was when I saw the dorsal fin. SHARK! It turned and came back at me. I managed to move out of the way although part of my arm was bleeding so a tooth or something must have slashed me. At this point I felt no pain plus it had pushed me into deeper water. The fear was almost paralyzing but I knew I’d be doomed if this path were taken. It was about then that Babakar came running into the water. It’s the first time I’d ever seen him swim. He cut gracefully through the water and soon was approaching shark. He was also making some of the dolphin noises from the previous day. The shark was about to strike me when Babakar hit it on the nose and then simultaneously hit both its eyes. He stunned it briefly and this gave us an opportunity to move towards the shore. At that moment suddenly the water was alive. All around us were dolphins and they were all attacking the shark. The shark knew he was outnumbered and made a fast getaway. Babakar’s dolphin friend came over and his nose rose out of the water. I thanked him and he nodded his head up and down. Then Babakar came over and said “This one (pointing to his friend) taught me the maneuver hitting the nose and the eyes.. Without that we both might be dead.” I was stunned in silence. This was all so much to take in. Here I am alive because of some dolphins and what one of those dolphins taught my friend. With that Babakar’s dolphin friend rose out of the water and turned towards his lady friend who had also helped deal with the shark. They swam off quickly joining the rest who swimming away. Babakar and I just looked at each other briefly. I shook my head and smiled. Nothing else could be said. At this point there was a fair group of people who saw everything. I turned to them and not knowing what else to do I raised my hand and waved. At that the two of us walked away down the boardwalk that led to the crosswalk on the way back to the inn. It was getting near eleven a.m. I could only lay down at that point. The slash on my upper arm was nothing that needed tending. I was lucky. Eventually someone from the ADNR or something like that, perhaps they were with the State Park system, anyway they came and asked us a bunch of questions. It seems no one noticed that we were actually communicating with the dolphins. Apparently no one heard Babakar speaking dolphin, or perhaps they just assumed dolphin sounds come from dolphins. Either way they never asked us about any of that. They just wanted a run down of what happened. We conveniently left out the part about being able to communicate with dolphins. It had been a very strange 2 days. Now I sat up after napping and Babakar was gone. “Probably went for a walk.” I thought. Indeed I sat playing the guitar for a bit when he came in. He seemed depressed. “What’s up dude, you don’t seem so bright in the eyes?” “Oh perhaps its just been a long day. This is vacation remember we aren’t supposed to have to deal with this stress.” “Yeah, who’d a thunk a shark would come here?” “Seeing my friend also hit me.” Babakar said. “Yeah...” I said. “Oh it’s been so long since I’ve been home. He reminded me of home and then I thought of Amadou and all my friends. Perhaps I am homesick.” “If you need to we could put the album on hold so you could go back to Senegal.” I suggested. I don’t think I’d ever seen Babakar longing for home so much. No, we need to do this. I need to do this. The members have worked so hard getting these pieces together I must get this done. To go home with it unfinished would taint my return and leave a bitter taste in my mouth. We will finish it.” “It’s a good album Babakar. Those mixes we brought with us were cool. It’s not done but it is getting close. “This is true. It is getting close.” “Will you see you dolphin friend again, What’s his name anyway, you never told me that.” “They don’t go by names. They just are.” “How do they call each other like ‘yo Babakar, wanna beer or fish or whatever” I asked. “I’m not sure. But their intelligence level allows them to perceive more out of an audible communicative sound than people are able to. That’s the best explanation I can give. I’ve not mastered their language by any means.” “You speak Dolphin, my pal here speaks Dolphin.” “Are you hungry, John?” he asked me. “I could eat. I think my nerves and head have sufficiently calmed down that food would be a good thing. Some booze would be cool too.” “A glass of Malbec would be good if it were available.” So after some discussion we went back to Big Fish. It had been so good why risk another Hazels. We were again seated by the lovely blonde women with the German accent. I would have married her right then and there just because she was so cute and I am a dirty old man. I ordered scallops while Babakar had the catch of the day which was grouper. His looked better than mine and mine was really good. Just not enough. It looked nice on the plate though so that’s important. I started with a Manhattan while Babakar got his Malbec. We toasted his dolphin friend sipped our drinks. When the meal was brought I asked for a glass of Pinot Noir and we ate in silence for a bit. Then Babakar spoke “I’m sorry John for laying my problems on you. It’s not fair to you.” “Dude, it’s what friends are for, and you know that. Believe me when my heads a mess if you’re around you are going to hear about it.” With that Babakar smiled as he looked down at his fish and continued eating. Day 6 So we got up early and tried to get off rather quickly. We’d been taking our time for the most part after the first day. Now that didn’t keep us from walking down the beach one more time. We both had woken before the sunrise so we went out just as it was coming up. It was much like the first morning except there were no clouds this time, but it was big and red and orange and fiery. The ocean was again calm. Just a soft slapping of the shore by the waves. We walked in silence. I could tell Babakar was hoping to see his friend one more time. It wasn’t to be. They had left the area he was fairly certain. All the commotion probably made his friends concerned that someone might come to capture and study them. Just to make sure he went out and slapped the water surface with the flat of his hand several times. Nothing. So we decided to go back to the inn and pack and get going. We were both tired and I was starting to feel a certain longing for home too. My cat Erin, while being well tended to, misses me and I her. I know that seems odd, a cat and a 50 year old fart being pals. But its true. Anyway we drove to Decatur, Alabama. The drive was pretty uneventful. We stopped often just to stretch or use the restrooms. We got to the La Quinta in Decatur and checked in. It was the first kind of icky hotel we stayed in. I’ve been in worse (Days Inn Tucson Convention Center) but there was a funny smell, but you could only smell it occasionally. If you stuck you nose in the pillow it smelled like fresh linens. Couldn’t figure it out. Maybe a dead body recently walled up between 2 rooms. We decided to walk to dinner. There was a local restaurant and then a few chains. The local one looked crowded as it was Friday we didn’t want to deal with that so we decided to cross the road which was a spilt highway although not an interstate and go to the Chili’s. As we crossed the grassy area between the east and west sides of the road a school bus with a bunch of young girls was stopped at the red light. It was then we heard in what almost seemed to be a tortured voice screaming out “I love you.” Apparently it was intended for one of us. I told Babakar he had admirers while he suggested it was I who was the focus of their love. We both turned and waved and then continued on across the road. The yelling didn’t end. Our waving seemed to only stoke their young love. We turned again and waved and were met with more screams of “I love you”. Anyone within a half a mile could have heard this young girl screaming and I had to wonder what the bus driver was thinking. The screaming continued as they sat at the red light and Babakar and I continued on until we were at the Chili’s. At that point the screaming continued but the light had turned green and it diminished as the bus drove away. “Rather amusing, don’t you think John?” “Indeed, I still think it was you they loved” “No I think it was you with your rock star long hair. You are an obvious heart throb John.” “Yeah right, me and Mickey Rourke!” I said. This made us both crack up laughing as we went inside. Dinner was adequate, nothing fantastic but we figured that going in. We were tired and just needed some food. Babakar had the Cajun pasta while I had a chicken sandwich of some sort. I wasn’t that hungry. We’d also nibbled on bleu cheese stuffed olives and some hummus we had in the cooler while having our cocktails back at the room. After we went back to the room and it was fairly quiet. Babakar went out for his nightly constitutional and I turned on the Cav’s game only to see them lose their first game of the playoffs to the Bulls. They held tough to the end but they lost. I suppose someone had to. Why is it such a terrible thing? They won’t lose the series. Maybe this will give them a wake up call. Perhaps they need to know they can lose. I think this is the year and that Cleveland will finally bask in the glory of a professional sports championship. (NOTE: Of course I now realize how wrong I was and that LeBum may be a monumental choker...) I’m not sure why that is so important. They’re just a company. They don’t really care for any of their audience other than their wallets. There is no need for allegiance to a company. I mean who roots for Home Depot, or Wal-Mart or K-Mart or BP or well you get the idea. I don’t. I lost interest in pro sports when the Browns left and then they took advantage of all that loyalty and made us buy them a stadium and then pay for the right to buy tickets. It’s pretty screwed up the way that all went down. Anyway for the most part it was a day we both existed and now it had come to an end. Babakar got back to see the last 2 minutes of the game. Then I tipped back a glass of the small batch and went to sleep. Babakar turned the TV off but stayed up reading. The next day we hoped to get to the Queen City. Cincinnati. Day 7 So we got up and had breakfast. This La Quinta’s breakfast was about as bad as they come. They only had cinnamon raison bagels which I’m not real fond of so I had a bowel of Cheerio’s, juice and coffee. The coffee was lame. It tasted like Burger King coffee which is really bad coffee. I did manage to take a couple of banana’s to eat in the car. We both like bananas and they are easy to eat while driving. We loaded the car and made sure the important things were packed like electronics, guitars, journals, the things that can’t be replaced and then we were off. North. We entered into Tennessee and for some reason it seemed more beautiful than when we came through it heading south. “Perhaps it is the time of the day. We are earlier so the light is hitting the landscape at a different angle.” Babakar suggested. It could be. We seemed to be floating on the top of the world which we were in the sense that we were at the highest point at that point of the earth but by that logic walking across Death Valley was also walking on top of the world at that point. Still we were up although I am not sure how high of an elevation we were at. There were times where they had to cut into the earth to make way for the road which left sheer walls of sedimentary rock exposed. We drove on enjoying the view then Babakar put in a CD by a dude named Damien Dempsey. Irish songwriter. Good album. It’s called “To Hell or Barbados”. This kept our conversation to a minimum. We as a rule would stop whenever a rest stop came up and about 5 songs in there was one but we were enjoying the music and didn’t want to stop. Then the sign came that said the next stop was 82 miles. Could we hold our coffee laden bladders that long? Probably not, the music would have to be paused for a spell. I pulled the car over and parked. We got out and stretched. It was a good long slow stretch and it felt excellent. It probably meant that it was a good thing we stopped. Babakar headed in to the loo and I followed. As I walked in and I could hear a guy throwing up in one of the stalls. A boy outside of the stall was saying “Dad, are you OK?” And the guy would vomit and tell the kid to “go the fuck outside, Jimmy.” Jimmy didn’t. He seemed worried about his father. When I got outside Babakar was standing looking at a map of Tennessee. I went up to him. “That was pretty curious, Babakar?” “What’s that?” He asked. He had used the left side of the mens room which was a totally separate room so he’d not seen Jimmy and his vomiting, swearing Dad. I told him what I had observed and he just shook his head. You could hear the man vomiting even out in the lobby area. We returned to the car and hit the road and it was Damien Dempsey right where we’d left him. We passed Nashville and then Louisville and soon we were approaching the Queen City. That was when traffic came to a dead halt. Up ahead nothing was moving. We sat. We sat. We sat some more. Then having done that we sat some more. Few things drive me crazier than being in a car and not moving. It didn’t seem to bother Babakar much. He got out and got the binoculars out of the trunk to look ahead but couldn’t see the cause of the back up. It was beyond the bend in the road. Couldn’t even see any flashing lights. He got back in and told me this and I looked around. Going the other way was Exit 72 so I looked this up on a map and pulled over half on the grass and half on the berm and passed about 8 cars which got me to the emergency turnaround. I gunned the car and shot out cutting across 3 lanes and exited at exit 72. From there Linda Sue guided us through some rather beautiful country with lots of up and down roads and cliffs with no guard rail. Very nice. I think it was route 42 and it paralleled I-71. We actually could have taken this all the way to Cleveland. It turns into Pearl Road at some point. Eventually we were driving through suburban type areas. This was slow and dull. Then we got to a point where 42 and I-71 intersected and it was moving again so we jumped back on the freeway only to have been delayed enough to time it so now we are contending with Cincy rush hour on a Friday night. Poop! Another delay. Well we eventually got to the Comfort Inn. We had planned on going to check out a coffee shop called the Roh Street Café but when I gave Linda Sue the address it turned out to be another 40 minutes in the car and neither of us were in the mood to do that. So we set up shop in the room and cracked a beer and jammed some. We’d gotten pretty good at jamming without getting loud. We had a nice view of a wooded area from our room which was strange because this was clearly a strip mall type environment. Then we decided to go for a walk. We wandered down past all the stores. One thing that was different was that we both now had long pants and jackets on. Babakar still had sandals but I’d switched to shoes. It was in the upper 50's. It kind of felt good to have the cool air against your skin and in your nose and lungs. We also stopped in to a Target, mainly because they have clean, easily accessed bathrooms and it was time to get rid of the beers we’d drank. We did wander around and look at all the shiny and brightly colored things in the store. I contemplated buying a shirt but resisted. I don’t need a shirt. We left there and continued walking. We passed a Indian Cuisine restaurant and took note of for a possible dinner location. Eventually we ended up walking by the Olive Garden, which was what I was in the mood for, and noticed it was packed. We finally returned to the hotel and each had a glass of the small batch whiskey and then decided to go to the Mexican place right next to the Comfort Inn. “Maybe it will be like the place in Norfolk Nebraska, eh?” Babakar added “We can hope!” for that was a really good place. Maybe it was just that the 2 times I’d been there I was primed for food and drink. Still it stands out as one of the best Mexican joints I’ve eaten at anywhere! As it turned out it this place was quite good. Not sure if it rivals Norfolk but very tasty. We filled up. I had a carne asada thingy with rice and beans and 3 tortilla’s that I’d wrap as much of the other things up in and eat it. That plus a good house Cabernet. Although the waiter initially brought a glass of Chablis...the imbecile, I smacked the glass off the table spilling the wine and yelled “Get this out of my sight and bring me what I asked for. You fool!”... OK I didn’t really do that. I wouldn’t embarrass Babakar by doing something like that. In fact I wouldn’t embarrass myself doing that either. We returned to the room and I was going to go for a walk and smoke my last cigar. I’d brought 2 cigars. The first I’d smoked on the beach the second would be smoked in the suburbs of Cincinnati strolling though the parking lots of a strip mall. Babakar said he was going to play some and might join me if he can find me later. I went and walked back over to the shopping area we’d been in previously. I couldn’t go into any of the stores because of the cigar but it allowed me to wander out in the middle of the parking area and get a great view of the sky. It was something I had learned years ago, when I lived in a seminary, about malls and shopping centers. Because they are so big and flat a large swath of sky gets opened up to viewing. So I stood in the middle of this parking lot and watched the remains of the sunlight fade. Tomorrow we would be home. I was ready. This had been a good trip but I am, deep down, a homebody. I like my familiarity. I know how to deal with it. Although I have also found that after a week on the road it takes a bit of doing to get back into the old swing of things. All in all these are worthwhile endeavors. To see the world it all its wonders is worth the effort. I can think of no time where I have regretted it. Senegal, Ireland, Mexico, the Gulf of Mexico, the southwestern desert. Even last years hotel in Tucson didn’t make me regret the trip as a whole. The Chiricahua National Monument alone was worth that trip. But I do miss my routine also. Also, as I mentioned... I miss my cat. Day 8 The next day came. It was the last leg of the journey. It would also be the shortest one. I had laid out the plan so we could get back into Cleveland with plenty of time to return the car to Hertz and get across town via public transportation. I was hoping P.V. would be available but I knew ahead of time he might have gone out of town. We left by 8. We got a decent breakfast. There was even biscuits and gravy which Babakar had but I stuck to cereal and a bagel with cream cheese. Of course we both drank coffee. I also snagged a couple apples for the ride. We ended up not eating them but they didn’t go to waste. I took them to work in the following week and used them to augment my lunches. So after breakfast we loaded the car and were on the road, as I said, before 8. It was raining and overcast and very, very Ohio, very, very Cleveland even. We drove in silence, each carrying a travel mug of coffee we’d taken from the Comfort Inn before leaving. The drive, as we had a hotel on the northeast side of Cincy, was only going to be about three and a half hours. It was relatively uneventful and we listened to a couple more CD’s as we drove... Serena Postel and Shakti. Quite a contrast, the former was an independent singer-songwriter out of Winnipeg while the other was a Indian/Jazz fusion band with Zakir Hussein and John McLaughlin in it. We both loved all of these artists. In fact Serena had used a quote of Babakar’s from her CD Baby page on her own website. He was happy about that. “You know John, I really find her album a joy to listen to. I’m so glad you introduced me to this women’s songs.” “Not a problem, dude, not a problem. You have certainly turned me on to a lot of great stuff.” It was true. It was indeed about the only way I ever heard new stuff was through friends. We didn’t stop at every rest stop, only when one or both of us actually had to use the restroom. I sensed that both of us wanted to be back in Cleveland and even once we got there I still had to get Babakar out to his place in Amish country and we still had to return the car. If PV were available that was going to be a big help otherwise I might not get home until 8 or 9 that evening. As it turned out we were back at the Mind Fry complex by eleven in the morning and PV was able to follow me to the rental car return. Babakar stayed at the MF complex while PV and I returned the car. When I got home Babakar and I had a cup of tea that he had prepared but then it was time to take him back to the cottage J. Kinslow had rented out east in Amish country. That took about 2 hours as when we got there Babakar invited me in for a glass of Calvados (a type of French brandy made from apples instead of grapes). We sat and sipped the Calvados and talked about the trip. It had been more than we’d bargained for with the introduction of his dolphin friend and the shark attack. “Still, I am glad that you allowed me to come. It was a fine adventure and while seeing my dolphin friend makes me long for home it was good to see him and I am glad that you know him now. Plus it has given me renewed resolve to finish up the album. You know I really loved crossing over Perdido Bay one time when I had gone out for my nightly walk. It was a distance but that evening I felt really strong and just kept walking. I am not sure how far I walked. But it seemed to draw me to it. I walked out on to the bridge and stopped and pressed my face against the chain linked fence and stared north at the bay. There was still some light in the sky but it was fading. I felt so good at that moment. Having seen my dolphin friend and being on this sojourn with you. It was good. Later in the trip I looked up what Perdido meant, it is Spanish, and in Spanish it means ‘Lost’. Sometimes that is such a good description of how I feel. Life can be so overwhelming at times. I feel like I am adrift in the ocean or something... If I can just get into a bay or a cove... I don’t know. I may call the album ‘Perdido’ what do you think John?” he asked. “I have to admit Babakar, I have always loved the sound of the word Perdido. Ever since the first time I came down here to visit my Dad and step mom. There was something in the tone of the word ‘Perdido’ ya know what I mean?” I said, and I truly meant that. There was something poetic in the sound of the word. “I had no idea it meant ‘Lost’ though. I probably should call my next album Perdido also. I always feel lost in this world. It would almost seem stupid to state the obvious in my case.” I said trying to be self deprecating while hitting the nail squarely on the head, although I never got the impression that Babakar too felt that way. He always seemed so grounded. An anchor. We are all human I suppose. “We shall see. Perhaps I will run it by Samba or Barney or some of the Consort members. We shall see..” With that it seemed it was time to go. The glasses were empty and we seemed to come to that point where we should part. I stood up and grabbed my jean jacket. “Take it easy Babakar and thanks again for traveling with me. There will always be times where I travel alone but I am sure there is at least one more trip together for us, and probably more, that is if you’re interested.” “John, the pleasure is all mine and sojourns like this are always welcome from my perspective. Remember it was a grand sojourn you took back in 1990 that allowed us to meet. For that I am forever grateful to your brother. It was a good thing indeed. Have a safe drive back to Cleveland.” With that I got back into my ‘97 Honda Civic and headed safely back to Cleveland. THE END Postscript: While we were in Alabama the Deepwater Horizon exploded and sank. At the time we had heard about it but as we were not paying much attention to the news and that sort of thing we didn’t think much of it. Since then British Petroleum has been trying unsuccessfully to stop the flow of oil into the Gulf. Tar balls have washed up on the very beaches we enjoyed. It is a sad thing. They say they may not be able to completely stop it until August. Babakar speculates his dolphin friend may have left for that very reason. It is just speculation...
Friday, February 19th, 2010 8:52 AM EST
Travels With Babakar
The Badlands
Day 1 So we took off pretty early. We’d planned to leave at 8 but as we were ready and it was earlier we ended up leaving at 7:43. The sun was just getting up and we were driving west. This was good the sun was at our back. Babakar had agreed to join me. I’d had a trip to the Badlands of South Dakota planned. Initially I had asked PV to go but he couldn’t. Not enough vacation time. So I had made the plans to go alone. Then J. Kinslow had contacted me about working in a production role with the Consort. Of course I jumped at the chance to do that. Those folks are awesome. It was a matter of going through the many recordings we had of them at Mind Fry and seeing if there were enough to fill a release. I had to laugh at the notion. They always have enough material. It turned out that Babakar was being flown in from Senegal and J. Kinslow was putting him up in a cottage out east of Cleveland, somewhere in Amish country... Midleton, Middlefield or something like that. It allowed Babakar some space for quiet contemplation. Of course he is always welcome at the MFE complex. If any artist comes in we will feed and house them if necessary as space allows. We don’t get a lot of folks recording there besides me and the Consort. Even the Chunks haven’t been there in a bit. One day at the studio I had to let Babakar know that he would be on his own for a week because I had this trip planned. This was his response. "Well, I really don’t want to do this alone. I like a second set of ears you know, how about if I travel with you to these Badlands. I won’t be a bother and can pay for a separate rooms at the hotels. After all J. Kinslow paid for the cottage I am staying at. It might be fun if I am not imposing much." It was so funny, he was being so polite all I could say was. "Babakar of course you are welcome. I think you will dig it. P.V. and Dan (of friend who fronted the band Vital Mines) and I were there 2 years ago and I knew then I would return. It was magnificent. Please join me. No need to pay for a separate room although we may need to get a roll away because on at least the first night there is only one bed. Nothing personal but I’m not sleeping with you Babakar" "If you really do not mind that settles it, but you are sure?" "Of course I am sure, I had asked P.V. but he couldn’t. I really, for a change didn’t want to go alone. I almost canceled it a couple weeks ago. Then I knew I would be disappointed if I didn’t, so I got every thing set. I’m following the path the 3 of us took on the way out as closely as I can. We will stay in Norfolk Nebraska instead of O’Neil cuz there weren’t rooms available at the Holiday Inn. But we can get some great Mexican food and Tecate Beer at this joint we ate at in Norfolk. It’ll be a blast." "Thank you I am forever grateful, John "Thank you Babakar, So that was how things started. Then the night before we left he stayed at the MFE complex and we took off bright and early. By noon we were in the South Bend area. I tried explaining the concept of Notre Dame and all their supposed mystiques but I got the impression that Babakar didn’t quite get it. It was a great drive. The weather was perfect. The first day we covered over 500 miles and got to Davenport, Iowa by 3:30 Iowa time (4:30 Cleveland). We took our stuff up into the room and chilled out. I cracked a beer out of the cooler. Babakar made a pot of coffee. There were the coffee pods that came with the room but we also carried our own grounds and that was what Babakar drank. He too loved his coffee. Once we had settled a bit we took out the guitars. We both carried one. Babakar had brought his Alvarez while I had my Wechter. We jammed a little and then Babakar asked me to play one of my newer songs. I played him a song called "It’s a Problem I Have" which is one of a few songs I had written recently dealing with people who have nothing better to do than to demean and denigrate others. Of course I made him play something in return. He played an instrumental he’d not named and wasn’t done with but it was something he could play on acoustic guitar. After that we sat for a bit. Babakar went out to smoke a pipe and I was left in the hotel room alone. I broke out the Scotch and was sipping it when Babakar returned. I was starting to get a little edge on from the scotch and suggested we go use the pool. He said he would sit and watch but he didn’t feel like swimming. So we went down and I swam while he read from Kerouac’s "On The Road" which I had packed as reading material. It seemed an appropriate book given that we were indeed also ‘on the road’. I dove in. It felt good being surrounded by all the warm water. Babakar sat for a bit on the side of the pool reading but soon a lot of kids and parents were coming in and they were fairly rude and splashing others and what not. At one point I surfaced from a pool length scuba diving expedition (in my mind) and I looked to Babakar and he was standing with the book in his hand. He motioned he was going up to the room and I nodded. I wouldn’t have stayed either, in fact even wanting to swim, all the little bastards were making it difficult to enjoy . Still I wasn’t going to be pushed out by them. There were 2 slightly older kids who were ‘in love’ and used the pool as an excuse to hold their half naked bodies against each other. I was in the deep end (which really wasn’t at 5 feet...) I think they were waiting for me to clear out and they might have tried having sex. They seemed oblivious to the security camera and everything else for that matter. At one point it was just them and me in the pool. The real loud brats had left. I kept doing my lengths and they kept snuggling in the deep end. They weren’t moving much so nothing was happening there. They were just whispering things to each other while leaving as little space between them as possible. Typical teenagers in love. I sensed they felt soon I would leave and they’d have the pool to themselves. Not on your life. I was going to be an obstruction to their love. It was just my mood. They kept me from totally enjoying it and I would do the same to them. After fifteen minutes the brats returned. At first they were unable to get in because they didn’t have a room swipe card. As I was thanking God for keeping them out the female lover got out of the pool and let them in. Once the loud brats had returned I got up and returned to the room to shower. Babakar wasn’t there. But "On The Road" was on the table so I assumed he went out for a walk. It had been a great day weather wise so my only regret was that I wasn’t with him. I showered and sat reading the book. I just opened it and read. I wasn’t necessarily starting it from the beginning, although I think Babakar might have been. I read for a bit and then practiced the guitar. Babakar returned and we decided to get dinner. There was a sea food joint next door so we went there. It was adequate. Like a local version of a Red Lobster. We each had a glass of wine with dinner. He had Salmon while I had the halibut. Like I said it was adequate. After dinner we went for a walk together. I showed him the Davenport sign Dave and I had goofed around by in the previous trip. I took a second pic of the word DAVE in Davenport just to show him I had been there. Then we took a drive downtown to the Mississippi river. That was the highlight of the day as the sun was setting. There was nice walkway along the river and the temperature was perfect. We walked casually talking and just enjoying the view. To the west there were a couple bridges that made for a fine picture. I regretted having put my camera down and forgetting to take with me. Alas... Finally we got in the car and returned to our room and went to bed. It had been a long but good day. I’m so glad he decided to join me. It makes a big difference. Day 2 The next day started early. I got up at 6:30 only to find that Babakar was already up and just coming back from a short walk. He had walked north on highway 61 a little bit and then returned. Breakfast was not until 7 at this joint so while I showered he pick up "On The Road" and read some more of it. When I came out of the shower he said to me. " I was just reading this Kerouac book and the chapter I read had the main character in Davenport Iowa. Funny he mentions Rock Island. It’s such a coincidence, don’t you think?" "Only to a degree, I chose that booked because I knew that somewhere in it he crosses Iowa and Nebraska at some point. I didn’t realize it was so close to the beginning. Great book though." "It is a classic, the Beats or Beat Generation. It reminds me of the lost generation, it was Gertrude Stein who coined the term wasn’t it John?" "Yeah, I think anyway. My grasp of history is always tentative ya know. Sometimes I can grab the most obscure thing our of my past while other times I don’t know when the War of 1812 took place, ya know?" Yes, I understand what you are saying." So we traded small talk and silence for a bit. That was the great thing about us. Never did silence seem the least bit uncomfortable. People like that I can live with. People like that are rare and special to me. I finally broke a silence and asked him if he’d like to go to breakfast. He seemed intrigued by the book and said he’d be down in a bit. "What time do you want to leave John?" he asked. "I was aiming for 9. Our drive today is about 2 hours shorter so I figure we can start 2 hours later and still get to Norfolk at a reasonable time." "OK, I’ll make sure I’ve gotten something to eat and be ready by then. It’s a good plan" "Whenever we are ready is also acceptable." I said smiling to let him know we were on vacation! So I went out of the room and took the steps down. I went into the breakfast area and prepared myself a bowl of corn flakes, toast and took 2 apples for eating in the car. I also had a couple glasses of apple juice and some coffee. The coffee wasn’t great but it would suffice. We had brought some good ground coffee but it was more for the cabins when we got there. I even packed a mug. I’d forgotten to pack a mug for Babakar because of his late addition. We’d have to get one. Maybe a Wall Drug mug or something. Worse comes to worse I would insist he use mine and I would use a paper cup or something. Mugs were easily obtained for a fee in America so I really wasn’t concerned. Just as I was throwing my Styrofoam plates and cups away Babakar appeared. We exchanged pleasantries and I returned to the room and finished packing everything. His bag was already packed and sitting on the end of his bed. When Babakar returned we hit the road. Heading first north on Highway 61 and then west, always west, on interstate 80. This would take us almost to Omaha where we would jog onto I-680 and then to the Lincoln Highway (US 30) to Nebraska 75 to 32 West to 275 and then on in to Norfolk, Nebraska. There was a good Mexican joint Dan and PV and I ate at the last time through. So we went there for a late lunch/early dinner and munched big time. I think Babakar may have even gotten a little drunk on the Tecate’s we were drinking. I ate a lot of rice and beans as he did so the room would probably stink to high heaven by morn. Hopefully it wouldn’t start until we’d fallen asleep. Still that meant waking to stink. It was worth it though as the food was excellent! Day 3 Day 3 begins. We get up later than preferred but alas we don’t have to be anywhere. We’d like to get to the cabins around 3. You can’t get in until after that. So the breakfast was pretty good. There were eggs and biscuits with sausage gravy. As they were probably eggs laid by tortured chickens neither I nor Babakar had any. Still, you normally don’t see that. Juice and toast were on the menu. Of course we’d steal whatever fruit looked good to take on the road. Apples were preferred. They were the easiest to eat while driving. Bananas were ok but there was the peel and you have to eat them quicker. Oranges are just to big of a pain in the ass to deal with while driving. Babakar would take them though. He was an artist when it came to peeling an orange. He would just caress the peel off the orange. A true master. There were times after a slow careful peel he would look at the fruit and then take out a segment and offer it to me. Of course I accepted. It always tasted great. I’m convinced it was because of the care he put into peeling it. So today we get to the cabins. We can settle in a little. It is difficult settling in with the computers and all this. Prepping a place to live even though you only live there for an evening. Still it has been productive on some levels. We’ve been listening to a lot of music. We rock out when the windows are down and when its cooler out drive with the windows shut and the sound allows for more intricate things to be heard. When we play "Dark Side Of The Moon" we will probably ride and use the AC if necessary. On ‘low’ of course. I still have to go over the map. I know that we start on 275 which is where we left off but somewhere after Valentine we take a right and head north. I’ve got it mapquested so I should be OK. So we drove and drove. It seemed longer than it was suppose to. Then again we bypassed Mapquest’s directions because it was taking us through area with roads called "broken foot trail and some other special names that were not on any map I had. Thus to get lost meant no directions to become unlost. We headed north at Valentine on US route 83 and that takes us to I-80 at Miroda, or something like that. We hit a scenic overlook which isn’t all that scenic given we are about to hit the Badlands but none the less we decide to make peanut butter and cheese sandwiches and drink a beer. We are both sated and the beer really hits the spot. I decide to pour one for the road and put it in my travel mug. Babakar, always the prudent, mentions its against the law. Once he knows I am aware of what I am doing he does not bother me. We pull out and soon we are at the front gate to the park paying a tall, at least she seemed tall in her both with me looking up at her, black women with a courteous but a not friendly demeanor. She takes my 15 bucks and I take her instructions to the cabins. I get to where they check in and this women who is courteous but not really friendly, sent us. I’m thinking she smelled the beer on my breath, so is less pleasant. Too bad for her. She should just lighten up. It’s like the women you can hear on the video track of Dave shooting when we were there as the unholy trio. You can hear her say something to the effect of "this is how stupid people die" referring to me walking out on a ridge that is clearly safe to walk on. She was just too tightly wound. There was no danger short of an earthquake and then she’d be taken also. One of those annoying folks I always seem to run into in the world. I know... it could be me and not everyone else... Naaaaaww. So we get to the rooms and they are fine. Spartan as advertised but quite nice. I take the smaller bed while Babakar insists he take it but I win and jump under the covers and rub my body all over the sheets so he has to take the other one. He smiles in defeat shaking his head at my childish display. So we sit for a minute. I need a whiskey. I need a whiskey to celebrate finally getting back here and doing it in such a wonderful way. Only having PV along would it be better, or, God willing, Dan So after I had my whiskey we decide to head out and take in the late afternoon views. We head out to an area near the western end that has a boardwalk. We stroll around there and then I get a little antsy and want to head out on the other side of the road where there are no trails or boardwalks. Babakar says he will wait there and remains standing at the end of the boardwalk looking out. I head across the street and wander into the scrub. I get to an area where the earth lifts up. It’s like if you cut a piece of cake and lift it that is how the earth rises. On the top where the frosting would be is grass and more scrub. It was irresistible and I had to climb this even though I had only worn sandals. We were saving the serious hiking for tomorrow. I got on top of this area and walked its perimeter. I eventually got to where you either had to jump down or turn back as the jump was more than I had climbed to get here. I walked on and just as I was to the area I climbed up I hear it. The rattle of a snake. I see it and it is curling up into a strike pose and it rattles again. While it is doing this I am jumping back putting a good 10-15 feet between us. I fumble for my camera and this just makes things take longer. I turn it on and aim. The amount of time I am taking is annoying Mr. Snake and he gives his tail another good rattle. I manage to get a couple pictures and then figure it wise to jump down and head back to the boardwalk. I get there and I am all excited. "Babakar, I came face to face with a rattlesnake." I say as I walk up to him at the same spot I had left him. His face lights up with a smile "I take it you were not "Bitten By A Snake" he says referencing one of my songs. "It was so cool, it sounded just like it does in all those old westerns. He rattled at me a few times and I got a couple pictures." "That was bold, to hang around just to get photos." Babakar said questioningly. "It was safe. Believe me Babakar I would not endanger myself just for a picture. He was a good ten feet away." I showed him the pictures on the camera. We hung out at the boardwalk for awhile, the sun eventually set and we felt like a drink so we headed back to the cabin. We sat outside our cabin. I was sipping a whiskey while Babakar had a glass of the cheap Carlo Rossi Burgundy I’d packed. The night had cooled considerably from the day. It had been hot during the day. An early rise and hike seemed very possible. We sat in silence with only the ice in my scotch making any noise. Babakar got up and went into the cabin. He returned with his guitar and started to gently strum. It was a simple progression but it was nice. He went on for a bit. It fit the scene, it fit our moods. After about fifteen minutes I put my drink down and got my guitar and returned. He looked at me smiling with a "its about time" type of look on his face. I started to improvise a melody over what he was playing. This led to a different progression and then I took over the rhythm part and Babakar started playing a little lead. He doesn’t do this very much. With the Consort it is almost always Barney playing lead. He’d even asked me to do one when he thought Barney wasn’t going to be able to make the session (in the end Barney did do it ... I think they were nominated for a grammy in best instrumental, or something like that). When he started to play it was a simple lead. Nothing fancy, or fast and fiery. Just a melody. A very beautiful melody. Soon a head popped out of one of the doors, then from another cabin a lesbian couple (my assumption...) Came out. Soon we had an audience of 7 folks. They all seemed to be holding a beer or wine or cocktail and were just standing listening. We let the improvisation come to its natural end and a gentle applause broke out. "They didn’t tell us about the nightly entertainment." one of the alleged lesbians said. "That was great" "Where do you hail from." an older man who was with a women I’d guess to be his wife. I’m from Cleveland, I’m John and this is my friend Babakar, he’s from Senegal." "What bring you out here?" said the other lesbian. "We were working on the next release by Babakar’s group when this vacation I had planned came up and as he was in the country and I wasn’t going to be able to work so I asked him to join me and..." "Actually I invited myself and John was gracious enough to allow me to join him" Babakar interjected. "So here we are. No point in 2 guitarist traveling together and not have their guitars." "Play some more" a very pretty young girl said who was sitting closest to Babakar. She seemed to be here with her parents in one of the bigger cabins. She seemed the most entranced by what we were playing and that was the only thing she said so far. "OK, lets see, would you like to here John sing. He’s a marvelous singer. I have learned some of his songs without him knowing it so this is all new to him too. Come John lets play ‘Weighs On My Mind’ I know it. I’ve learned some things from your albums. Lets give them a little concert." "Yeah, a concert, yeah" were things heard for those gathered. So I agreed but if anyone complained from any of the other cabins we would quit immediately. So we played that and "Into Your Bones and "Goodbye" from my first album and then a few from my second and then at least a half dozen from my third. I wasn’t sure when he learned these but he had them down. I would say he played them better than myself. It was a blast. The people sat in rapt attention and after each song we’d all talk for a bit. Sometimes about the music sometimes about the Badlands sometimes about Nietshcze (seriously, the young girl was big on him. She taught us a bit about his works... me anyway. I now know he’s peachy!) Eventually after about an hour to and hour and a half of playing we were tiring although the crowd had gotten into double figures so that was cool. A few more married couples arrived with folding chairs and set up shop with their cooler and a very pleasant demeanor. What a gas. I just thought we were coming to observe nature. To wander the Badlands and now we have an audience. This went on fairly late. Lucky most of those in attendance were older and needed to crash on the earlier side of things. It gave me and Babakar some time to talk before bed. "That was a great jam Babakar, we should do this more often." I said. "Well this is true but we are rarely in the same spot at the same time, although luckily when this does occur there are instruments around usually. Today was no exception." "These folks loved it. We were just making it up off the top our heads at times. I could have sold 10 CD’s tonight. That so gratifying." "It was a kind gesture to give them all copies. The young lady in particular seemed to glow when you gave her a copy. She just held it and stared at it like it were a relic or jewel." "You flatter me, she probably was deciding on whether to scream and throw the thing away from her or be polite and feign gratitude, I gotta admit I’m glad she chose the latter, my ego and all its fragility,..." "You make me laugh." And the conversation drifted into silence. I eventually tossed back my last Irish Whiskey and went to bed. It was about an hour later I heard him come in and go to sleep. Day 4 The next day we rose before the sun. I wanted to get pictures and told Babakar to sleep but he wanted to get pictures for his mind he said. He never took a camera anywhere, don’t think he owns one. Doesn’t let me photo him either. I gotta respect his wishes. I’ve never taken a picture of him and I probably never will. So off we went. I chose a hill on the eastern side of the park. Seemed logical given the sun rises in the east. It was perfect. That is until my batteries started to run out. When it got to the point where it wouldn’t take a pic I would take the batteries out and put them back in. That bought me another 4-5 pics Still I had to get back to the cabin. I apologized to Babakar but he was nonplused by it all. We rode back and given that we were there we did our bathroom stuff (probably didn’t want to know that did ya???) and got back out to hike on of the trails It was still cool and we didn’t want to hike in the heat of the day. "Mad Dogs and Englishman" Babakar would always say when the subject of the afternoon sun came up. He knew what he spoke of. The hike was excellent. Again we shared a lot of quiet time. The scenery was magnificent. The only problem was when I initially insisted the trail went a certain way and indeed I was wrong. Babakar eventually pointed out that there was a marker off to the west that seemed to indicate the trail we wanted to follow. In the mean time we meandered around one area for about 45 minutes. But as Babakar put it, "we were still out here in this wonderful country. Taking it all in." Indeed we were. I think Babakar could have sat in one spot and meditated on the landscape and been as happy. His ability not to get flustered or frenzied with things is a way I wish I were. Alas, it is something to shoot for I suppose. A goal... On this day we saw no rattle snakes although I did make up a nifty little ditty about "Rattley Snake". A song of mirth, at least my type of mirth, to share with the world. As we hiked I would periodically break into it adding words as I went. The landscape was amazing. The rock formations. The wildlife... bunny’s who didn’t fear you, mule deer, I even saw some weird badgeresque critter. Not sure what it was. I took a lot of photo’s while I was there but none of them do it justice. It reminds me of when I was in Ireland. Want a good picture? Just aim the camera. It is almost that easy. Even then the pictures don’t do the experience justice. Perhaps that’s why Babakar eschews camera’s. We put a lot of soil under our shoes that morning. It was a glorious hike in so many ways. Babakar was almost silent the whole time. Me in my usual way had to spout off every now and then and release the absurd thoughts that so often go through my mind when I am wandering. We got back to the cabin and it was later than we thought it was going to be. So we washed up and headed into Wall. We went to Wall drug and picked up some sliced cheese and snacks for dinner and before dinner. Babakar was going to drink some wine while for the time being I was going to start with beer. Wall Drug was interesting. Not THAT interesting. Given all the hoopla I think that it should’ve been a little more interesting. Alas... I got PV a T-shirt from Wall Drug and of course we found a Wall Drug wine glass for Babakar. We decided to eat dinner in the room with cheese sandwiches and an apple and a beverage. The restaurant just isn’t very good and you have to tip and so this seems reasonable. The waitress had a cuteness to her. Not so much that I want to eat there. I think we will jam again tonight. Maybe not outside... maybe though. The wind has kicked up so we’ll have to see. Having your guitar sandblasted is not the best idea ya know. Indeed we did jam again. We improvised more tonight. I was trying to avoid us just playing my songs, although I was flattered Babakar had learned so many of them. He was thinking we might do an open mic somewhere along the line, and who knows maybe we still will. His music is usually hard to play without a group. He writes his stuff for an ensemble. Me I am a singer/songwriter/guitarist. Though I write wackier stuff than that. No sooner were we outside warming up than the folks from the other cabins started walking over. It seemed they were ready and waiting for us. They were bringing coolers tonight. It looked like a full blown concert. Woodstock, the mini, or something. It was the same folks as last night only there were others who hadn’t been there. Word had spread. If only word could spread like that internationally. This was a good example of how mass communication killed the musical lives of so many. If it were not possible to make music in Cleveland and have it heard on the other side of the world shortly after the local musician would be a much more valued commodity. You would have your local stars and a show like we were about to do could be as satisfying as having U2 (or whoever) come to your local stadium. Maybe better. The young girl this time was accompanied by her father. We started playing again with an improvisation. Babakar started out droning on an A note while I peppered a lead around it. Pretty soon he developed it into a progression that had a fast Spanish flair to it. This was a style I was well comfortable with. I soloed for a bit, finally I looked up and Babakar wasn’t even watching me. He had his eyes closed and was grooving, so I continued to play the lead. Eventually that bit ended and everyone clapped and hooted and hollered. We were both beaming smiles like spot lights. Someone yelled out "Play that song you played last night...’Weighing My Mind" or whatever it was. So we played "Weighs on My mind" and this time I signaled Babakar to take the lead which he did playing a beautifully melodic line that hinted at the vocal melody but with enough lines of his own that it was pure Babakar. We played a couple more of my songs and then I took the rhythm and started an improvisation. This left Babakar to take the lead. He kind of looked at my like "are you sure" and I nodded vigorously. So he took off and played some very hot licks. I’d rarely heard him rip like that. Barney better be careful or he’s gonna get the boot form the Consort. Song followed by improv followed by song it was a mad crazy night. Plus we started sooner tonight and so folks were getting a little more intoxicated. One of the rangers even came by to check what the commotion was I think. She didn’t say anything but just must have noticed the crowd and the noise all gathered in one spot. Perhaps she had to make sure we weren’t fighting pit bulls or having cock fights or something. She stood and listened while we played when the improv ended Babakar asked her "Are we too loud" "No, no and it seems everyone who could complain is here listening anyway.. Sounds great." And with that she drifted back to the welcome center she had come from. Finally after sunset Babakar and I had just had too much and we called an end. ‘We need to drink some ourselves." I said as I could tell Babakar was now as drained as I was. If it weren’t for one of the originals audience members standing up and saying "they need to drink people... they’ve played for almost 3 hours..." and then busting up into this wild, hilarious, manic laugh, we might still be playing. I went into our cabin and poured a stiff Bushmills (or is it a Stuff Bishmills???) and got Babakar a glass of Burgundy. "Got some Irish whiskey if anyone is interested." I said offering some up. No takers. It seemed a beer crowd primarily. So we all sat and talked for awhile. The initial core group hung out the longest. There was Jed and Alice from O’Neil, Nebraska, the young girl’s name was Allysa and she was from Cincinnati. When I heard that I added "I’m from Ohio myself, Cleveland. Find me a gig in Cincy and I’ll come and play there. And she actually took my e-mail and said she’d send some links to coffee houses that do stuff like I do. Her father looked on protectively. I think he was worried his daughter my get carried away with the ‘musician’. Never quite got that. It’s a myth as far as I can tell , or perhaps I am really lame... probably the latter. There was also the young couple who first heard us playing from the cabin next door. Janie and Chris. Nice folks. She and Chris sat pretty close. Could’ve been newly weds though they seemed to have been together much longer than that. They still seemed to have that lovey doveyness to their relationship. That kind of stuff normally makes me sick to my stomach but tonight it was really cool. I liked them. All in all it was a great night. Again it ended with just me and Babakar sitting on the bench in front of the cabin talking into the night. He’s a great person to talk to. He doesn’t need to talk and is a great listener but if he does say something, you can bet your ass its worth hearing. He’s a special dude. And tomorrow we leave. That leaves me feeling kind of sad. Leaving places where I have had special moments always leaves me feeling sad. Day 5 So we rose early because we knew we wanted to cover a lot of ground the first day returning. The goal was to get back to Cleveland on Saturday and do all the shuttling of rental cars and what not and then have Sunday to recover. Not that we need recovering because that makes it sound like someone was wounded or hurt or something. Far from it. Healing indeed, harmful no. I wanted a receipt because J. Kinslow had said Mind Fry might cover some of the trip seeing as Babakar was going and it might add to his art thus would be an investment. Hmmm... So we left the park listening to Dark Side of the Moon. Very cool. We both sat in silence and just enjoyed the music. Because it was early and still cool we rode with the windows up but no AC. If it were hot and we wanted good sound we would roll the windows up and use the AC but most of the time we were fairly content to allow the wind noise to be part of our environment. It is an area of agreement between Babakar and myself that the sound of life can be immensely beautiful in its own right. Leaving the Badlands, crossing south Dakota to Iowa and then south then east, a hard east, the drive was long and the highway was feeling lonesome with just us cars riding it. At one point, I think it was cutting across Iowa toward Des Moines (La Quinta in Clive. I’d stay there again... got the pool and hot tub to myself ... excellent) there were all these wind turbines, windmills whatever they are called and it was really a beautiful sight. They are so HUGE it is amazing. They stand like giants. Spinning their blades at the wind and looking out across the great vastness that is the plains. Wide open, endless, seemingly infinite, and here they are giant, white with 3 blades turning. Then you look at the nearest tree and it doesn’t even get half way up the side of the it. THAT is how big these things are and why they seem so amazing. Like friendly versions of the War Of The World invaders. ( I can just imagine it all....... "They came in peace to create energy for us with our natural resources. Soon they will be sending their distant relatives the Solar Panel People who will come and use the Suns energy for mankind. Unfortunately mankind doesn’t trust because after September 11th trust was a sissy term. Trust was something only fools did. They trusted and got 4 planes hurled at them. Killing thousands. So they turned on the solar panel people and killed them all. Then they chopped down the wind turbine species. They were helpless as they were fixed in the ground. If they had blood it would have been a blood bath..." but I digress..............) Stunning to look at as I drove east across the plains. The plains themselves are often described as boring but I found them fascinating. The amount of land you cross driving to the Badlands and back is stunning. Everywhere you look there was just endless land. You could tell returning that you had gotten into Illinois because after an hour and a half or so there were a lot more signs for Motels and hotels and gas and food and all the rest. We stayed in Des Moines, as I mentioned at the La Quinta, and again I swam and Babakar sat reading Kerouac by the pool side. There were no kids this time. It was just us. I went from swimming to the hot tub and back several times. Babakar just read. We left there and returned to the room where I showered and then we went out to dinner. We tried Romano’s Macaroni Grill. Poor hostess, good waitress, and my Lobster Spaghetti could have been a lot better. The Lobster was fishy (and that which came from a shell was worse than what was mixed in with the spaghetti) and the grape tomatoes had a hide as tough as Rambo. Ended up with Tomato hides in my stool the following day. Those were some tough grape tomatoes. (I know you didn’t want t know that but...) Day 6 The next day is September 11th. We want to get to South Bend and farther if we can. Time is on our side today and we can feel more relaxed. We don’t encounter much traffic at South Bend like we thought we might given what we saw heading west in the east bound lane so that is good. We finally stop for the night in Fremont/Angola Indiana just west of the Ohio state line. The Comfort Inn. 9-11-09 I go to the pool alone. Babakar doesn’t feel like joining me and decides to go out for a walk. There isn’t much around this area. The pool however is all mine. I have it for over an hour. No one comes in. Finally I get out and am drying myself off when a lovely young thing comes in and peels of her top and takes a shower and then dives in. If I hadn’t gotten out already I might well have kept swimming on the chance that this sweet young thing may be interested in an old troll like myself. None the less it would be too obvious if I jumped in and then the dirty old man syndrome kicks in and I feel guilty, I so hate feeling guilt. So I go back to my room and Babakar is sitting sipping a cup of coffee. There is a cup left and he offers it to me but I declined. I shower and then it’s a whiskey for me. For dinner the woman at the front desk said to head up the road behind the hotel and we will run into a bunch of places. We end up at a Ruby Tuesday. It’s adequate and the waitress’ are rather attractive considering the size of the town. I have a Cajun Tilapia while Babakar also has tilapia but prepared differently. Afterwards we decide to take a walk through the Wal-Mart that’s across the way from the Ruby’s. Neither of us have been in one in so long and all the shiny lights and stuff are rather amusing sometimes. We wander aimlessly. "You know, John" Babakar starts "These prices are amazingly low. At least for this country. I can see where one’s financial circumstances would lead you to shop here despite where the stuff is made and by who and how its closing the mom and pop places etc. I mean if you didn’t make a lot of money and had a family you really, for their sake, would be almost required to shop here. Certainly there would be a lot of personal pressure. Don’t you think?." "Yeah, I can see what you are saying. But I do know folks who manage to get by without supporting this place." Then as we are walking past the sporting goods section Babakar stops and starts looking at putters. He selects the cheapest one they have and carries it with him. I give him a questioning look and he responds "I need to practice, perhaps I can make your tournament this year." "So you are going to buy it?" "No I am going to threaten the cashier with it and if she does not let me leave without paying for this...POW up the side of her head." "Right, that’s you Babakar, Mr. Violence..." "I’ve been learning a lot over time about you Americans. One thing I have learned is that while there are many stereotypes one must never subscribe to them. You will probably be wrong." I could only shake my head. So we went back to the hotel and I wanted a whiskey. I looked at the ice bucket and it was all melted so without me saying anything Babakar grabbed it and said he’d fill it. In a couple minutes he returned with a couple bags of pretzels from the vending machine to boot. I took one of the plastic cups, (I would occassionally use plastic I was too lazy to go to the car and get my ceramic mug, but never Styrofoam.) Filled it with ice and poured from the bottle of John Powers that I had just cracked. I watch the liquids swirl and mix from the top. Then I noticed Babakar wine into his new Wall Drug wine glass. He held it up and said "To an excellent trip, I thank you for allowing me to join you." "The pleasure is all mine, my friend." I said and we drank. Then he suggested we take our drinks and go for a walk. It was warm so we didn’t need a sweatshirt or anything and we headed out trying to be discreet about our drinks. Our room was near the exit at the end of the hall so we went out that way and then across the parking lot and across the street. I was in front when I heard Babakar say "Cross the street." so I led the way. We crossed the street and lo and behold it was a very large putting green. I turned and Babakar stood holding the putter up and one of the balls he had purchased at Wal-Mart. He was tossing the ball up and down in one hand casually. "Shall we invent some type of putting game?" he asked. Of course I burst out half squealing and half laughing at the concept. He’d had this up his sleeve for a bit. "When did you find the green?" I asked "When I went out earlier while you were eating breakfast and at the time it had made me think how fun it would be to play some putt putt. When we were in Wal-Mart, while I didn’t want to spend money there it seemed a sacrifice worth doing, so I bought the club and balls. The excuse about making your tournament is probably hogwash. I am pretty sure I have to be in Dakar the first weekend of October, it’s the third isn’t it?" he said. "Yeah it is." I said then thinking further "Well shall we?" So we decided to play a game where we would start at the edge of the green from 18 points and shoot toward the hole. Initially it was fun but after about 6-7 ‘holes’ we decided to alternate turns making up a hole. We used rocks and twigs, mainly as markers because we had no intention of doing the green any harm. We played for a couple hours, although at one point I ran to the room and retrieved our bottles. Babakar impressed me with his imbibition that night, for him anyway. Eventually we returned to the room and crashed. I think it was after 2 a.m. Checkout wasn’t until 11 and we only had 3-4 hours of driving so we could sleep in. The next morning I got up. Babakar slept in a bit. I think the wine had gotten the upper hand on him. He almost always rose early. I didn’t want to bother him so I went down to get the free breakfast. It was pretty good. The usual suspects. Cereal, fruit, bagels, pastries, juice etc. While I ate cereal and drank juice and coffee, I loaded 4 pears into my pockets along with 2 apples for the ride to Cleveland. As it turned out Babakar went to breakfast while I was back at the room showering and also grabbed 4 pears and 2 apples so we had plenty of road food for the last leg of the journey. In fact we’d probably have leftovers when we got to Cleveland! We hit the road around 10:30. We headed a little north to catch the Indiana turnpike and then headed east to Ohio. Before long we were seeing signs for Toledo. I asked Babakar if he minded a slight detour and he didn’t so I headed north on I-280 and jumped off on Route 2 in Oregon, Ohio. This took us along the wetlands near the Lake Erie shore. It was a nice farm country/wetland mix and I thought Babakar might like it better than the stale turnpike. He did. I often drove this way when heading up to see family in Michigan but he had never been along here. I regaled him with my tales of traveling this road and the stretch along Route 2 that went through Bono, Ohio (which I told him had an annual Bonofest in honor of the U2 singer... he didn’t believe me, and shouldn’t have... I was lying). We eventually got to the Ottawa Wildlife Refuge and I pulled off the road and we went back there and walked for a bit. He seemed in a reverie. He was quiet but seemed to gaze intensely at the wetland. It was a warm day though the bugs weren’t too bad. I was there once at sunset and was besieged by bugs to the point I had to leave. I wanted to show him this because it was where I had gotten a recording of ambient sounds that the Consort was using on their newest release. There was a song called "Sonic Wetland" they were doing and they were using all these bird and duck and bug sounds I had recorded here. He said he was glad to be able to see where they had come from. We stayed about an hour walking perhaps a mile or 2. There was a full 5 mile circuit you could stroll but we were fine walking casually and taking in the sights and sounds and scents. Finally we climbed back in the car and continued on. "Thank you John, thank you, for taking this way." he said after we had driven for about 15 minutes. "No problem Babakar, I thought you might dig it. I also wanted you to see the Ottawa. It’s special place for me. I’m not sure why I just really love being there." "It’s because it is beautiful. Also it’s not that far from your home. The Badlands also are a special place but it takes 2 ½ days to get there. It is good to have special places so close." "Yeah, sometimes I forget that." "The Cuyahoga Valley too is special isn’t it?" "Absolutely. If the Consorts mixing sessions have you here at the end of October we will have to take a picnic down there and revel in the fall splendor." "Yes and with any luck I will see the first snow fall here." he said, he loved snow and he loved to make snowmen. "Let’s not rush things Babakar, I know you like the snow but we Clevelanders are in no rush for that to get there. It’s a long cold season. The last few years have seemed longer and colder. I’d trade you Senegal’s heat for Cleveland’s cold any day." I said matter of factly. "I suppose what you don’t have is always often more appealing." Babakar said and with that we remained silent just watching the countryside go by. Eventually we crossed the causeway over Sandusky Bay and were back on the part of Route 2 that was split like the turnpike. We stopped one more time at the Vermillion rest area. I had to pee and I also wanted him to see the cliffs that were there. He suggested we climb down but I said we might get in trouble and he didn’t push the matter. Plus at this point I was eager to get home, I suspect normally I would have been all for climbing down, PV had even chastised me for suggesting it once, yes PV, chastising me for breaking the rules. Besides Erin (my cat in case I’ve not mentioned her so far...) was waiting for me and I was missing her. Despite some traffic we got back by 3 and returned the rental car and were back in the house by six. Babakar was going to stay at my place that night and the next day I’d drive him back to the place out east J. Kinslow had rented for him while he was in town. P.V. stopped by that evening and I cooked a dinner of black beans and rice and peas and turmeric and we drank wine and ate cheese and I showed P.V. the photos I had taken. It was a fine night after a fine trip. I had the next day off and didn’t have to work until Monday. This was good. Day 7 The next day we both rose early. We ate coffee and bread and cheese for breakfast and then Babakar was off. I would see him in a few days as we had a mixing session at Dark Tree Studios on Wednesday. Me, I went for a bike ride and then just chilled for the rest of the day. It was weird not being on the road. I had to get used to this new old way of life, although it didn’t take long. Upon returning from my ride I showered and drank a beer and lay on the couch. Erin climbed on to my chest and I took a long welcomed, but unplanned, nap. I was home. Erin was happy to have someone to sleep on and I too was happy to have my little buddy sleeping comfortably on my chest. But then also I missed the road. It had gotten into my system and now I was unfamiliar with not traveling. Still at that moment I felt happy and content. What more could one ask for?
Thursday, July 16th, 2009 8:48 PM EDT
A Summer Evening at the Barking Spider
July 15, 2009 Well last night was a good night. There were alot of folks I know which always imspires me. Plus despite the back and the tendinitis in my shoulder that I have been nursing since March it went off well. I got my good friends Beth Ann Woyshville and Jay Bentoff (of the Kind Revolution) to help me out and do sets of their own. Initially I thought those two would open and I would pull up the rear but we ended up doing a couple shorter abbreviated sets each. I started the festivities with about 4 songs and then Beth Ann came up and kicked ass. Not bad for a women who hasn’t performed live in at least 10 years. It’s funny because when I was thinking of finding folks to split the night up (so as not to tax my lame ass shoulder) I thought of Jay but not Beth because I didn’t think she would be interested. Then we were talking and I mentioned calling Jay when she piped in "I could do that" which surprised me but it was a good thing and she sounded great. (Now if we can just keep her from avoiding the stage). After Beth, Jay came up and did another kick ass set playing his Fender Strat and performing some new songs. After a brief intermission I went back up and was joined by Brian McCafferty and Leslie Basalla of Vital Mines on a couple of songs written by my friend and Brian’s cousin and founder of Vital Mines Dan McCafferty who passed away on Christmas day last year. If you get a chance check out their latest release Angel Shares. http://www.myspace.com/wearevitalmines
It’s an excellent album which makes Dan’s passing all the more sad as he had a hell of a lot of great music in him that still needed to be recorded and performed. Next Beth Ann came up and did some backing vocals for 3 of my songs (Weighs On My Mind, I Was Bitten By A Snake and If I Only Could) and once again sounded great. Especially the version of If I Only Could. She did the backing vocals on this song for my debut release The Sun and it has always been one of my personal highlights on that album. I normally don’t perform that song live as I really feel it needs the backing vocals to make it work the way I intended it to. I played a couple of new tunes after that and then Beth returned for another great set (personally I think she got better as the night went on... and I wasn’t drinking either!) Finally Jay topped off the evening with a couple of Kind Revolution songs in which I joined him on lead guitar. It was a good night with a good audience and I think my shoulder weathered the proceedings rather well. The back is another story as today I am off to see Dr. Phibes
Tuesday, July 14th, 2009 10:20 AM EDT
Interview in Unsigned The Magazine
I was interviewed in this magazine so I thought I'd post the link in case anyone is interested:
Yesterday was a strange and difficult day. The previousday as I was turning my desk lamp off at work something went awry in my back. It hurt. It really hurt. I got home and couldn’t go for my usual bike ride. So I took some ibuprofen which only marginally helped. I had plans to go to dinner with a friend (we’ll call her Nurse Ratchet) and so I did that. When I was sitting it wasn’t bad at least with the ibuprofen. So a delightful dinner at Hecks ensued and followed by a drink at the Great Lakes Brewery. I got home and went to bed hoping that it was just the back spasming and nothing more serious. Well this morning i get up and hobble into the kitchen and put the coffee on. I sit and read my book on the Tarot that another freind had given me and while i was sitting and drinking my coffee I felt fine, well I felt passable. Then I got up to get a second cup of coffee and suddenly there was an intense pain in my back. Just the weight of me holding myself up was putting to much pressure on my back and I slowly was lowering myself tot he floor. Now on all fours in my kitchen with my cat affectionately rubbing up against me thinking I was trying to get close to her, I realized I had to do something because I had the benefit to play. It was about 10 hours away. I crawl to the phone and call my doctor who luckily has Saturday hours. They say come right over. Its not my normal doc (we’ll call her Dr. Phibes.) but a different one who works at the same office (we’ll call her Dr. Strangeglove). Well Strangeglove examines me and has me lie back and lifts my legs up and down and asks me to see how far I can bend over to touch the floor (I couldn’t even touch my knees... to be honest I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to walk form the car to the building the office is in). So in the end she says take ibuprofen 4 at a time and gives me a prescription of Vicodin. While it doesn’t make me ready conquer the world it at least puts me in a condition (albeit a rather spacey one given the narcotic effect of the Vicodin) to be able to play that night. I manage to get through the set and it actually was a good night. The audience was attentive and responsive. I sold 10 CD’s and gave the dough to the Peace Show (which may have been why they bought so many... I’m going to think it was because they thought I was pure genius!!!) After I feel better than I have all day. Sometimes I think the effect of playing, the adrenaline or whatever it is, can have curative properties. There was another show a few years back when I showed up and had a god awful sore throat and while it didn’t effect my singing it hurt. Afterwards there was no more pain. Even the next day the sore throat was gone. Unfortunately this gig only lasted until I got home and went to bed. The next morning it was back. None the less I got through the gig and that was the most important thing. The benefit was for a cause I truly want to support and believe in. Peace, it’s a good thing. Tim Smith and his people have been putting that show on every Labor Day since Bush took our country into that God awful misguided and reckless war. I have had to pleasure of playing at the actual show a couple times once with the Kind Revolution and once under my own name and it’s been a special performance each time.
Thursday, April 30th, 2009 11:55 PM EDT
ANNOUNCEMENT
The Amanda Tour has been canceled due to difficulties with the artists involved and the booking agent. In spite of this we still will make post gig notes for those who just have to know what is going on here at Mind Fry.
Saturday, April 18th, 2009 7:55 PM EDT
The Amanda Tour 2009- 3rd Saturday Meal at he Trinity Lutheran Church
April 18, 2009
So today it’s the 3rd Saturday Meal in the beautiful city of Lakewood Ohio at the Trinity Lutheran church. This is not the type of road gig that involves a hotel so that is good. I will be back to play with my cat by the days end. It’s cheaper and my cat doesn’t like being left alone, although she is perfectly capable of running the Mind Fry Complex on her own, she, like myself, is lazy and prefers someone else to do it. This is the first 3rd Saturday gig of the year. The last time I did this it was just before Christmas. I look forward to these shows. They don’t pay, at least in cash, but they do enrich and they are only about an hour long so even though I have to haul my entire P.A. set up it’s worth it. I’ve never used a service such as this but I have been in a circumstances as a young lad where it would have been useful. I remember when I was in college and living in Coventry Village with a ‘friend’ of mine sharing an apartment and he left "Just to go home and see his family". When he never returned I was stuck with double all my bills and my flower delivery jobs just weren’t bringing enough scratch in, plus I was going to Cleveland State trying to get my degree. It got to the point where I had crunched all my financial numbers and it turned out that if I could live on 3 dollars a day I would be able to make it until the next Pell grant came along. That included 2 dollars a day for the bus down and back to school. Thus I had to eat on 1 buck a day, unless it was the weekend. Then I had a plethora of extra funds. 3x as much money! I bought a lot of the yellow and black generic bread and oatmeal and peanut butter back then. Somehow I managed but if a meal like this had been available I believe I would have taken advantage of it. Also in my circumstances there was a light at the end of the tunnel. At some point the Pell Grant would arrive. So I am glad and humbled that I can be a part of it and do what I normally do for the benefit of others. I hope the folks at the meal appreciate it. Last time they seemed to so that lifted my spirits. I’ll head out around 11. I could take I-90 to the Route 2 shore way or I may get off at the Warren Road exit (I think) and head north. I still have to check the map. I think there is some construction going on the Route 2 way so that may be something I want to avoid. For now I’m going to finish my coffee and keep reading Galapagos by Vonnegut.
After the Meal
Man that was fun. I realize it isn’t the type of gig that most musicians hope for, you know the type where the audience cheers wildly and they ignite their lighters and hold them up and make you play ‘just one more song’ and all that, but it was fun. I actually played pretty good which is always a plus. The people at the meal actually seemed to enjoy it. They even clapped periodically. Mainly before they started eating and then after they got done. The period where they were in line to get their victuals and actually eating them ( a choice of pasta with either a tomato or pesto sauce... it smelled really good!) was the quietest. Jason, who put this together, told me afterward that folks were coming up and giving me compliments, and indeed 3 or 4 people approached me personally. How can anyone complain when you get to play music and have people appreciate it. I’ve done enough bars and coffee shops to realize that you can’t assume anything in terms of audience reaction, so when you go into a situation where you are content just to play and the people respond, how cool is that? I tried some of my newest songs and some of the pieces I play with my looping pedal (I think I’ve mentioned that somewhere, perhaps for the Stained Bliss Tour last year... anyway..) I have to say that anytime they want me to do this I’m there as long as the day is free. I’d feel bad if they asked me and I couldn’t do it. It’ll probably happen sometime but for the time being I am 2 out of 2. So it’s later and the equipment is back at the Mind Fry Complex and I am just chilling. Erin did a great job running things in my absence. It’s been an excellent day. In addition to playing at the meal after I got back from Lakewood I got my first serious bike ride in. Of course now I am tired and I am losing energy fast. I was suppose to go to a friends to help celebrate his birthday but it isn’t going to happen. It was glorious out today though. A day to celebrate the great out of doors. The temperature was in the 70's and I broke out a sweat while riding. I even had the windows at the complex open. My cat loved it as it brought her closer to killing the birds feeding on the suet blocks just outside my window. For some reason the screen separating her from the birds doesn’t seem to register with her. Then again the birds don’t just sit there when she lunges. They take off so they must fear her trans-morphing through the screen and killing them. The warmth is so excellent. Even though tomorrow it is suppose to cool down and get rainy the warmth, as we have it, while we have it is simply marvelous!!!!!!!!!! Don’t you think? Additional Note:Right now the next gig on the Amanda tour isn't until the June 20th a benefit for the 2009 Peace Show at the Free Stamp.. Hopefully something will come up before then. In the meantime I'd be taking some time off anyway from being John McGrail, mild mannered psycho pholk musician, to being the crazed maniacal lead guitarist in The Kind Revolution who are preparing to play at 2009 Hessler StreetFair. So far the practices have been productive. Put that on your calendar and do what it takes to be there. It's the Sunday on the weekend before Memorial Day. Peace!
Sunday, April 12th, 2009 5:24 PM EDT
The Amanda Tour 2009- Bros. Bean Coffee House
April 11, 2009 9:06
Well today I head to Seneca to play at the Brother Bean Coffee House. I’m excited. I played there last September and it was a great room. The people listen. This is a concept that is all too often non-existent in the Rock and Roll capital. Sad to say. One would think that given the title it has that the people of this city would have an eagerness to hear new and original music. Alas it is all too often not the case. There are some places where that can be the case, the Barking Spider comes first and foremost to my mind, but by and large it’s not so. I remember going to the Free Times awards at the Beachland Ballroom a few years ago with some tickets my friend Susan Weber had given me (check her and her band Monet’s Orbit out sometime, excellent!) and there were various musicians playing prior to the actually awarding of awards. If I recall Chittlin’ (now Jessica Lea Mayfield) and Alexis Antes and a few other people were playing more acoustic sets and the audience, and this is an audience of predominantly musicians and music folks mind you, just talked all the way through it. No respect or quiet for the folks playing. I had heard that Chittlin’ was pretty good but by the end of her set I had no idea because I couldn’t hear a damn thing. Pathetic really. Even the musicians won’t shut up and listen. Eventually Uncle Scratch’s Revival (or something like that) came on and they were so loud that it didn’t matter. Which doesn’t mean the audience quit talking it just meant that the band was louder. In fact the audience got louder so they could hear over Uncle Scratch . A sad, sad commentary on the Rock and Roll capital. At Brother Bean though people listened and I don’t know a musician alive who doesn’t want that. So I’m looking forward to this. It’s in a new location and is now owned by a non-profit so I am curious to see what the new room is like. Plus the former owners are putting me up for the night so that’s good too as they are really really nice folks. Well that’s all, I’ll fill you in tomorrow when I get back.
April 12, 2009 17:24 PM
I’m back. The show went well. The new location of Bros Bean is nice. It’s a little different but a very welcoming place. I walked in and Gwen, the former owner, was already their. I also met Janeil the new contact for the place. Also a very nice women. The show went well. There were a few more teens there than the last time and teens being what they are tend to be a bit talkative. I suppose it’s like asking a cat not to meow, a river not to flow or a Republican not to be corrupt (yes once the Dems get used to their power they will fall in line, hopefully not, but power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely... or something like that). But the set up allowed those who want to listen to sit up close with the more talkative types being in the back so it wasn’t disruptive. I managed to play ok. Not my greatest performance ever but also not my worst. It was nice to see folks who had been at the Bros. Bean show last fall return. As far as I know no one had a gun to their head, I saw no red laser dot trained on them so I am pretty sure they returned because they liked what they heard the first time. If not I’m going to believe that anyway because my ego is too fragile to consider any other option. There was even someone from Cleveland who came all that way, I’ll call him Edmund. It’s true Edmund came all the way from Cleveland just to hear me play. That is something. Although Edmund has been know to traverse great distances for a Mind Fry show. He then went on to camp out which I thought was a little crazy, it was cold that nightg. Gwen’s husband Bruce invited him to stay at their place but he declined. A very hearty soul! I on the other hand I did not turn down their invitation to stay with them and I am very glad I didn’t. In a week they are heading to the hills of West Virginia to live on a farm they bought and seem very excited. I am very happy for them. These 2 people are the type that give you hope in mankind. I mean twice now they have taken me into their home, fed me, given me a place to stay and even supplied coffee and breakfast in the morning before I left. People don’t do that type of stuff any more. At one point that was almost a folk music tradition for traveling musicians to be taken in by locals to help defray costs etc. But it is not the norm anymore. To a degree it's understandable, I mean I could have been some type of psycho or something... OK let em re-phrase that- I could have been some type of dangerous psycho or something but they still take me in. It is good to have met 2 such fine folks. As many who know me realize I can be pretty damn cynical about the human condition and people’s ability to be anything other than self centered. But Gwen and Bruce are just 2 really good honest generous folks that I have been honored to have met in this miasma called life. It does me good to come across folks like them. It makes me think about my own condition and place in this world. Perhaps I will learn something from knowing them. I hope so. If you can’t learn you probably are already dead.
So the drive back was good, as was the drive there (on the way it was Jesus Christ Superstar in the CD player as it was the Easter season). On the way I took a route that took me across the Pymatuning reservoir and then south to Seneca via routes 285,173 and 322. Having traversed that route once, on the return trip I stayed on route 62 south instead of turning onto 322 in Franklin, it was a good choice. The sky was blue and was behind me as I headed west. At times I was driving along the Allegheny River. Nice rolling hills, which were a challenge for the Tour Civic but she made it up them. Having passed through Polk, Sandy Lake, and Greenville I headed north which took me along the southern portion of the Pymatuning. Eventually I got to 322 and started to focus on getting home as opposed to the scenery. I arrived safe and sound at noon on Easter Day to the warm welcome of Erin the Studio cat. It was a fine trip, a fine show and I got to wish the Kahler’s good luck in their new adventure. Sometimes I wonder why I bother going to all the trouble of driving away to play somewhere, but it’s only before I do it. After its done I never feel it was a bad decision. The journey is the adventure... the destination is the journey, at least in part....
Saturday, March 21st, 2009 8:12 AM EDT
Amanda Tour 2009 - Eclectic Etceteras
March 21, 2009- 8:14 A.M. So it begins. The road season is upon us, or me actually. It was nice to get away from it for a bit. Sometimes the road is a crazy place to live. Asphalt rolling under you mile after mile all the landscape starts to look the same. You can’t remember just which town or city you are in this time. You wake up in some god forsaken hotel and wonder who this beautiful women is lying next to you... then it hits you. You are still dreaming cuz that just doesn’t happen, at least not with you. So in a couple hours you really wake up and you realize you are alone in a Red Roof Inn or obscure motel called the Freeway Motel or something clever like that. You look around the room and realize what a disappointment you , as a touring musician, are. The television is still there, the windows aren’t busted out and the most decadent thing you can spy is perhaps a bottle of whiskey with a couple drinks removed from it. You get up and hope there is a free continental breakfast if not you spend some of your tip money from the previous evening to get at least coffee and perhaps a bagel somewhere. Then you get in the tour Civic, pray it runs well and you are off down that famed ribbon of highway. How romantic eh?
Well today I am heading to Edinboro Pennsylvania. A small college town just south of Erie. It’s funny because I recently started seeing ads for the University on the morning show I watch before work to get the weather and road conditions. Hadn’t ever seen them until the last month. Perhaps they were there and I just never noticed until I had some reason to take note. Thus is the tunnel vision of man. If it doesn’t involve my life it ain’t there. Alas, if I wasn’t a self serving self important bastard that I am would I even write this? I mean I must, somewhere deep down in the bowels of my soul think someone out there gives a shit. Then again I enjoy writing and this is an amusing thing so perhaps its that driving me.
The trip shouldn’t be too long. It’s about an hour and a half from the Mind Fry complex which is where I must load the tour Civic. This trip will be a little different as P.V. will be joining me as roadie, road manager and sales representative. (i.e. he might carry some equipment, read a map and man the sale of CD’s). We hit the road at 10 sharp which should get us there with plenty of time. Mapquest has it at an hour and thirty minutes which will get us there at 11:30 and the show isn’t until one in the afternoon. I like the idea of an early afternoon gig. I normally do some of my best recording and playing in the studio in the morning and early afternoon so this dovetails nicely with my own personal habits. I hope they don’t mind me playing in my bathrobe... (just kidding). The coffee house is a converted house. I’m guessing it may have a similar vibe as the old Cafe Limbo (which I think is now the Vine and Bean or something like that) . The women running it is named Renee and from my e-mails with her seems very nice. She used to live in South Euclid at some point. I’m not going to stay overnight tonight. It’s not worth it. The drive is too short. I had thought about turning it into a bit of a vacation and perhaps go up to Erie afterwards and explore Presque Isle but finances have been a bit stretched lately (partly cuz I’ve bought stuff for playing music with and other self indulgences). I will meander back a bit. Just to take in the a little bit of western PA and northeastern Ohio. With a good CD in the player it can be a really enjoyable thing driving after playing. With that I leave you for now. March 22, 2009 9:49 AM
So we’ve returned. The show went well. Not a SRO crowd or anything but there were enough folks there to make it fun sold a few CD’s made a few connections and got to drive across some nice countryside and listen to some music on the way. Someone from Cleveland even showed, I'll call him Edgar, so as not to expose someone on the internet without their prior approval. Yes Edgar came and joined PV and myself for the show and some post show exploration of Edinboro. PV navigated and I took the reigns of the Tourcivic. Renee, the owner of EE was a really, really nice women so that made things good too. Explored the town of Edinboro a bit on foot both before and after the show. Small but nice. Stopped in at a what I call a hippy shop. The type of store that sells tie dye shirts and materials, beads, trinkets etc. I even bought a hippy shirt which you will probably see me wear at a show sometime this summer. After perusing the area Edgar went his way while PV and I got in the car and headed west. We didn’t take the route we came on. In fact we didn’t even take the route home we wanted to as we hoped to go across the Pymatuning reservoir but somehow managed to drive north of it before heading south to Route 6 and then took that the rest of the way. A stop in a town called Andover got us some food and drink at a Sparkle Mart (doesn’t that sound like a place you might see on the Simpsons or something)which we were planning on eating on the causeway across the reservoir but if we’d looked closer at out map we’d realized that the reservoir was at that point behind us. Alas we drove and eventually took our victuals at the Chapin Forest Metro Park (I’m guessing it was named after Harry Chapin.?.?.?.?). A successful trip I would have to say. I would do it again which is a good indication that it was fun and worthwhile. An hour and a half there, over 3 hours returning (no fun driving if you don’t go exploring a bit eh?) And I even got to wake in my own bed. No nameless hotel in some god forsaken podunk town. Next stop.. Seneca PA as I will return to the new Brother Bean Global Coffee shop on April 11, unless another opportunity to play pops up before that.
Thursday, November 6th, 2008 12:26 PM EST
Stained Bliss World Tour- Cleveland
November 4, 2008 Cleveland
Well it’s the night before what may be the last gig of the Stained Bliss World Tour. There is still a potential gig but right now there is no date or venue for it so this could be it. Odd it would all come to an end the night of the presidential election. Tomorrow’s show at he Spider could be a victory party or it may be time to start grinding your teeth for another 4-8 years. Obama seems like a good person for the job, not just the better or the lesser of 2 evils, he actually seems like he will be good at this (providing no one assassinates him). It’s really hard to say until he is in the position doing it but he strikes me as someone who wants the job because its an important job and needs to be done right. It doesn’t just seem like he looks at it like a trophy. That is the impression I get of McCain. It’s like he just wants to be President. I mean no one in their right mind truly believe Palin is fit to be running the country if McCain goes down. Seriously, she’s the best choice out of all the Republicans? Supposedly he wanted Lieberman, gotta wonder what type of a decision maker he is if he didn’t take the guy he wanted. I have to say out of the Republicans he used to be one I could tolerate, then he got the Republican nomination. His campaign was bad, mean, and most offensively— Dishonest! If he truly loved his country he would have beat George W. Bush in 2000 and spare the nation the hell it’s been through. Thinking of that makes me uneasy because while even Karl Rove has predicted a decisive victory I have to say until it is in the bag I will always have the image of the 2000 Selection of Bush. I mean that was a huge decision. Even at the time it seemed huge in the sense that the courts had never decided the outcome of an election before but now looking at the havoc he has wrought over the last 8 years it is just a tragedy of major proportions. At the time Gore didn’t seem that hot but if you speculate what the country would be like if he had been in office. Damn... We wouldn’t be in Iraq shit we might not even be in Afghanistan because Gore would have been aware of all "red lights and alarms and the chatter etc" that were going off in the National Security community so September 11 might not have even happened. Who knows? Biden said Obama would be tested and he might be. They certainly tested Bush and he failed miserably. Ug. One can hope can’t one???
So the tours last show is tomorrow night. At least there won’t be a hurricane causing it to be canceled. I’m looking forward to it. J. Kinslow sent me off for some R&R the last week of October. That was good. I got a lot of hiking and even swimming in. Plus I got away with my guitar and laptop. It got me into a performing frame of mind. I spent some time at the Maumee Bar Resort over towards Toledo. It was beautiful. The fall colors were gorgeous and I saw deer and bald eagles and beavers and all sorts of beautiful flora and fauna. I could live like that all the time. The nice thing about having the month off from the tour is that I could work on material both for the studio and live. I’m going to try some new things out tomorrow and hopefully they will work out and sound good. We will see. Tomorrow is a new day...
November 6, 2008 Cleveland
So if this is the end of the Stained Bliss 2008 World Tour it was a pretty good end. The Spider, while not packed (it was a Wednesday night in Cleveland afterall) there was a nice array of folks who were there and they were listening. It was fun. I tried a few songs with new arrangements and with a new Looping Peddle I tried some stuff out with that so there was that sense of adventure that I find so alluring in making music. To just go somewhere and do what people completely expect you to do is really not the point. While I am not going to say that I know what the point of music is I do believe that it has something to do with exploring, creating and looking for what is different and yet, in the case of music, sounds good too (now what the meaning of ‘good’ is, is a conversation for another time). Perhaps that is why while I don’t dismiss cover songs I can’t get into it when the point of covering a song is to sound like who ever did it originally. I don’t do many covers but that is partly because I am too lazy to learn any. It has always been easier to write my own then learn someone else’s. On the other hand I don’t know if Frank Sinatra ever wrote a song in his life ( he may have I really just am ignorant on the topic.. I know others wrote a lot of his material) but he was an original. That is the important thing I suppose. Be creative, be original. Do it because it is what you need to express. Granted in most cases no one in the world will give a crap about it and your ego may get bruised and damaged if you let it but do it because it is good for you. If you can do it because you need to then it won’t matter as much what others think. Do it without expectation after all if you’ve no expectations how can you be disappointed!!! (a twist on the Buddhist’s quest to be free of desire perhaps) Feed your soul and spirit. It can be cathartic and therapeutic. Anyway it was fun a really fun night. I think at one point early on I mentioned that I found it pleasing that Obama had been elected. 2 gentleman who had prior to that been listening and attentive got up and walked out, one of them leaving a half finished drink. I got the impression they were not in agreement with my view on the election. Then again perhaps they were 2lovers who’s passion had risen to the point where they had to go where they could be alone. Or perhaps it was all just a coincidence that they left after I mentioned Obama’s victory.
Speaking of which Barack Obama is the President elect of the United States. Pretty cool. The first African American ever to hold the position. It is nice to know that the people who elected George W. Bush to office .* Were able to go "Whoa..... we really F%#ked up didn’t we" and correct course. It is clear to me that this country lived through the worst presidency of modern times (modern being defined as since I have been alive... oh say 20 years...right). Just yesterday I heard that he has the lowest approval rating of any president SINCE POLLING BEGAN!!!!!!!!!! (Even worse than Tricky Dick, both are crooks as far as I am concerned) That is a pretty bad approval rating.
So now Obama gets to try and make sense out of the mess that Bush has left. And boy has he left a mess. He basically has to do the exact opposite of what Bush did. Bush came in with a surplus and turned it into the biggest deficit ever. Obama must get us out of the red. Bush inherited a thriving economy. Obama gets an devastated economy. Bush got a country at peace. Obama gets a country engaged in 2 wars (and if Cheney has his way a third before inauguration...I’m lookin’ at you Iran). Bush gutted the environment the best he could. Hopefully Obama will reverse that course. Hopefully Obama will put real scientists into positions that require scientific knowledge and experience. People who don’t believe that Adam and Eve rode around on dinosaurs, or if they do at least have real scientific data to prove their point.(which I doubt they can muster). It’s been almost surreal living in this country at times over the last 8 years. The whole run up to the war and the blatant lies that were used to justify it. The way the (liberal?) press was totally neutered and either incompetent or afraid to do their job. In one case reporting news directly as it was given to them by the White House (I believe it was Judith Miller... of the New York Times). Who would have thought that in America that we would live in a country that tortures in secret prisons, puts their own citizens under surveillance, who would have thought that a president could be allowed to by pass congress with signing statements? I mean it’s the President signing a statement that says "I don’t have to obey this law because I said I don’t have to obey this law". How messed up is that. I remember egging on some Republicans upon hearing them talk about fearing Obama becoming President. I couldn’t resist adding "You probably should be afraid because with the Patriot Act and signing statements all the things that Bush insisted he could do now Obama will be able to do." They had no response. There was a reason that people on the left and the right objected to the assault on our constitution. I think it was McCain who pointed out that there isn’t always going to be a Republican president. I mean we are basically living an Orwellian world of endless war. Most people don’t realize but the president can declare anyone an enemy combatant and they are screwed. They can then be locked away indefinitely. This includes American citizens. Oh but it can’t happen here....
I know I go on and on. Perhaps now with Obama as President I can quit grinding my teeth. It will be hard because he has a hell of a job in front of him. In my lifetime no President has taken over a country in such a mess. I wish him well and I wish us all well. **
* (I’ll hold off on a discussion on whether or not he was really elected... oh if you get a chance to see this years Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror" there is a great scene at the beginning where homer is being eaten by a voting machine that was rigged to change Obama votes to votes for McCain and as he is being dragged into the machine he yells "this isn’t suppose to happen in America, maybe Ohio, but not America..." or something to that effect.)
** I still haven’t ruled out an attempt by the Bush administration to create an incident on par with September 11 and then use that to declare Marshall law. He’s got until January 20, 2009. I mean if they went to all the trouble they did to start the Iraq war what’s the problem with a little more death and destruction just to hang on to power. I hope I am wrong. I think I am but.....
Saturday, September 13th, 2008 10:57 AM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour- Chicago, IL
September 13 Chicago
Well despite what I expected last night turned out pretty good. Not a huge audience but then again this is Cleveland and despite it’s being the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame location it really doesn’t give a rats ass about local original music. So given that and some other factors I was expecting to be playing to a small crowd. Now it wasn’t huge but it was enough for it to be fun. The people there were listening. There were folks there who probably didn’t come because I was playing and yet they were engaged. One extremely astute gentlemen called my music "creative genius". Now keep in mind this is a coffee shop so he probably wasn’t drunk. There were other people who showed up who I wasn’t expecting including the cute women who serves me my coffee on the way to work most days of the week. I’m impressed someone would return to the place they work jut to hear lil ol’ me( aw shucks). The early closing time was kind of nice afterward my friend Wanda (not her real name but for the sake of the blog that is what I will refer to her as) went back to my place and had martini’s. OK She had a couple sips while I had martini’s and we talked and listened to music. It was a good night. Still I had to get up and out because Lisa Sue and I were heading to Houston to play the Texas Tea Party on Sunday. It was a pretty cool festival involving some of the areas best talent and some other acts from around the country (such as yours truly). No huge names like the festival that was supposed to be in Melbourne but still it seemed to be a good event. Unfortunately its seems like a deja vu all over again as Hurricane Ike is hitting Houston and we are now stuck in Chicago’s O’Hare airport. Damn... it doesn’t look good. We checked before taking off and the promoter said the Festival was still happening, that they were going to move it to an indoor venue. Unfortunately the flights are all cancelled into Houston and now that we have safely landed in Chicago we get word via J. Kinslow that the festival is cancelled. He is making arrangements for us to fly back to Cleveland on Sunday. If I had know I could have gotten a hold of my brother who lives here and we could have taken in the town and perhaps gone to Andy’s for some afternoon jazz or Shaw’s for some seafood or that really good hole in the wall Mexican place that is within walking distance of his apartment (I mean really friggin’ good!!!). Plus he could’ve met Lisa Sue. Alas we are stuck in this Hilton Hotel and have to eat at the hotels restaurant , Andiamo. It’s a place that specializes in Italian and vegetarian cuisine which is good. That is what both Linda Sue and myself like so that suits us. I have to admit I was surprised J. Kinslow sprung for the Hilton. There’s a pool which I will take advantage of later. After dinner probably. It sucks to be in Chicago without being able to take advantage of this fine city. Alas. I’ll be here in a few weeks to visit my brother and take in an Ani DiFranco show. That will be fun. We will probably hit the Jazz Showcase on the Sunday and take in a few martini’s then. For now all I can say is that for a guy from the Midwest I sure am being messed with by hurricanes this year. Beats being stuck at the Atlanta airport anyway.
So it’s after dinner. It was good. I stayed with the vegetarian cuisine while Linda Sue had some type of veggie, chicken and pasta toss thing with Parmesan cheese and we split a bottle of pretty good Pinot Noir. OK we didn’t split it, she had a glass and I drank the rest. Afterwards I went for a swim and that was good. The water felt fantastic. I love just being immersed in the water. It’s a good pool. While I would prefer to have been in Houston playing music this has actually turned out to be OK. Again I wish I’d had the time to let my bro know and we could’ve hit the town. I did call him but I just got his answering machine so he may well have had plans. Lisa Sue went out for a walk. She just wanted to get some air and I am obviously sitting at the computer back in my room. We are sharing a room. No separate rooms this time. That’s OK Linda Sue and I have been friends for so long it’s 2nd nature to be around each other. I think she went for a walk to give me some space. She is like that. Very considerate. Plus she well may have wanted to shop at some of the places in the airport. Who knows. She has J. Kinslow’s credit card When she gets back I may see if she wants to go down to one of the hotel’s bars. There was a place, I think it was called the Gaslight, or something like that, maybe she’d want to grab a beer or wine or even something stiffer. Who knows. It’s still relatively early. Our flight tomorrow doesn’t leave until around noon. I think it’s like 12:20. Lisa Sue has the itinerary. Anyway if she doesn’t return soon I may head out for a walk. Perhaps she just wants to get away from me? That wouldn’t surprise me. I always wonder if I could somehow meet myself would I like myself??? You know everyone (me especially) is pretty full of themselves and you think everything you do is the right way on some level so if suddenly I were able to meet John Kinslow Ignatius Joseph McGrail would I like him????? I hope so but ya never know. The door is opening, It must me Ms. Dannon. It is. Later!
September 14, 2008 Cleveland
Well I am back home. I guess Houston and Galveston got whacked pretty hard. Maybe I’ll be invited back to next years Texas Tea Party. It seemed like a fun thing. No superstars but a lot of really good local and regional and independent folks. They even paid enough where we probably would’ve broken even. Linda Sue wasn’t part of the budget she was just going to get out of town. It was a vacation for her (although she did have J. Kinslow’s credit card hmmmm............). It's too bad that Ike decided to drop in when he did.
Even though it’s a short flight I am tired. All the standing in lines and airport air and the boredom and the carrying bags and the 12 beers. It wears you out. Now I am home and I think a nap is in store. All I need do is lay on my couch and soon a small furry animal will curl up on my chest and I will be off to sleepzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...........................
Thursday, September 11th, 2008 9:27 PM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour- Cleveland, OH
September 11, 2008 Cleveland
OK. It’s that day and I have a gig tomorrow at the Arabica. What do I write about? Well both I suppose. How does one write something today and not mention it’s the 7th anniversary of the attacks of September 11. Indeed everything has changed. We have less freedom (score one for Osama), our economy is struggling or worse which was one of the things Bin Laden had said he was going to do. Bring us down economically. I read most of his manifesto (best to know what the enemy is thinking don’t you think?) and that was one of the ways he was going to hit us. (Score two for Osama). The fact that he hasn’t been apprehended yet, almost but we had to abandon him so we could go to Iraq (score 3 Osama). Bush was able to use the attacks as fodder to scare the general public into re-electing him ( Score 1 Bush---and we won’t even go into whether or not he was actually re-elected because of the vote counting, especially here in Ohio was peculiar, plus the fact that his first term one could say he was selected not elected thus pasting re- on the front of elected could be construed as a misnomer...but we won’t bother with those tidbits for the sake of this entry). Afghanistan is heating up, tonight’s news said it was a bloodier month for the U.S. than Iraq was and one of the bloodiest since the war started. (Score 4 Osama). Am I making this a political thing. No, and that is not to say it isn’t a political thing, just that I am not the one making it that way. Bush did that. I have to hand it to him. It was a shrewd, if not cynical, cold and callous, thing to do. I mean he managed to get re-elected based on the idea that he could keep us safer even though he was in charge on September 11, 2001 and failed to keep us safe then. I don’t get it. Are the American people really that stupid. I hope not. Especially with another election facing us and a Bush acolyte wanting the post. It has been 7 years. I fear where the country is headed. How many out there are aware of the way protesters were dealt with in St. Paul during the Republican Convention? I read where at one point the police had a representative from the Organic Consumers Association in his sight and threatened to shoot if he didn’t obey. The friggin' Organic Consumers Association for God’s sake. I mean what’s he gonna do throw an organic pumpkin filled with explosives. People, both peacefuly protesting citizens and the press to were being locked up. How many of you heard much about that. I saw nothing in the mainstream media about it. Wonder why? Perhaps because the mainstream media is owned by 4 companies. That’s right 4 companies. It’s not a monopoly but it’s a small enough group where they can control the message and when profit is their mission the truth falls by the wayside. I mean the Republicans will make it easier to make money than the Democrats so of course it’s a logical conclusion that they aren’t going to cover it. Darkness looms ahead folks and it really makes me sick. It leaves me scared. 7 years later this is what has happened. (Score 5 Osama)
So, having said that happy little bit I have a show tomorrow at the Arabica on E. 185th. Jay and Chris were going to join me but circumstance beyond my (and their) control has nix that. It’s disappointing for sure because I enjoy playing with those guys and hanging with them but I am a solo act for the most part. I am used to doing this alone. I have some new tunes I am looking to test out and some new equipment which I hope to employ. It should still be fun. As long as no teenage kids come in and sit next to the stage and talk at the top of their lungs. It’s nights like that when I wish I’d brought a gun*. You see I’d only have to shoot one of them and the others would shut up. Unfortunately I only have a B.B. pistol and that would take too long. The show is only 2 hours long. To fill a teenager with copper to the point of silencing him would probably take much longer. I don't mind teenagers just noisy ones who have no regard for anyone else other than themselves. Some very good friends of mine are teens and they are very good listeners. I suppose if adults did the same I might want to fill them with copper too!*
* I am just kidding about shooting someone. I don’t believe in violence is an answer to anything, certainly not an obnoxious audience.
Friday, September 5th, 2008 11:09 AM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour-Seneca PA
September 5, 2008 Cleveland
It’s the morning of the Brother Bean show. I’ve had my oatmeal, toast, coffee and read some of Bukowski’s "Hollywood". It’s a little after ten. The sky’s are cloudy and there is a nice breeze. We could get some rain. Hopefully I won’t have an entire drive in the rain. If it doesn’t rain it’ll be a perfect day for a nice drive. It’s not as hot as it’s been the last couple days so I won’t be roasting in the Tourcivic. I’m going to take either Route 6 or 322 to the PA border and then go south around Pymatuning. It’s not the route mapquest listed as fastest but it’s shorter and probably more scenic. After all, these trips on the road are for the adventure as much as for the show. If I can break even then I figure it’s a successful trip. Even if I don’t break even I still don’t consider it a failure. Actually on second look it looks like there is a road that traverses the reservoir. So perhaps that will be the way to go. I’m excited. I’m looking forward to meeting Gwen and her husband Bruce. I’ve stayed in some contact with Gwen via Myspace and she seems real friendly. It’s a small town but she seems to have a good thing going from a musical standpoint Nothing like that ever occurred in my hometown when I was growing up. I didn’t see my first live concert until I was a freshman in college. I remember always being fascinated just by seeing a stage with instruments set up. Even if it was just a high school dance with a live band. Or even going past the music store in the Fashion Square Mall (that’s in Saginaw Michigan). This should be fun. I’ve been befriended by some others on Myspace from the area so I hope to meet them too. I even have a couple new tunes to try out. Hopefully I won’t screw them up. We will see.
Seneca 5:00ish PM
Well I made it. I met Gwen in person and she is as nice in person as she was via Myspace. The coffee shop is really nice. Nice stage set up, nice warm vibe. This is going to be fun. It’s the first night that they have had music on Fridays instead of Saturday. Hopefully that will work out well for them. They gave me my own room complete with a cat named Mugwump. Actually the cat doesn’t come with the room but he is on the bed right now watching me type. Very cute. I think Gwen said he was 5 months old... hopefully Erin doesn’t find out she’d be jealous. She looks kind of like my old cat Mairead. It’s about 5:40 right now. I will probably go up and start checking the sound. Pretty soon I just wanted to add a pre-show note. The drive in was gorgeous. I took Route 6 across the Pymatuning reservoir and then ended up in Meadville somehow (wasn’t planning that) but it took me to Route 322 again which runs just south of SR 257 which is where Bros. Bean is located. So I got here within a reasonable time. I had said between 4 and 5 and It was between 4 and 5. A timely musician... I am a failure in that respect . Musicians are always late.... Maybe that is why I am not famous. Mugwumps head is now laying on the computer as I type. I do want to take 322 back a bit because there was an area that went by the trail head for some bike trails I had checked out and there was also some nice rocky cliff type areas that I would like to get pics of. Anyway. I’ll probably add some more after the show.
11:00ish
It’s later. It was fun. The audience was attentive and I sold some CDs and got some tips and ultimately I more than broke even for the trip. Gwen and Bruce are really really nice folks. Very down to earth and friendly. We went over to a Mexican place called Cozumel for some chips, salsa and a really really large beer after. It was fun. I would do this again for sure. Hopefully they will want me to. I am looking forward to the return trip. It’s pretty country out this way and it’ll be nice to drive without having to get some where. I’ve some stuff to do tomorrow evening but nothing that will make me have to rush. I can meander on the way back. I won’t take the exact trip I took to get here because I don’t want to go through Meadville. There was congestion and construction and the sort. Anyway I am pretty tired and am going to crash. I just wanted to get this down while the moment was still upon me.
September 6 Cleveland
The drive back was excellent. The sky was grey and overcast and while it did rain, even hard for a little bit, it wasn’t annoying. My CD player, which is inclined to cut out on me in the middle of a disc, didn’t. At least not until I had listened to some good CD’s. Dylan’s "Free Wheelin" the one with Blowin’ in the Wind and Masters of War amongst others, and Serena Postel’s "Spare Change". She’s a women out of Winnipeg Canada who I stumbled across via Myspace page. It’s an excellent listen. It fit the drive and the sky and my mood very well. Eventually I got into Ohio. I crossed the Pymatuning Reservoir again. Stopped and stood in the mist staring at the water and the gulls literally floating overhead. It was cool. You’d look up and there’d be a gull just hanging on the wind. Neither moving forward, backwards nor sideways. Just hanging in one spot. It was like they were hanging from the clouds by an invisible wire or something. It was a good day for mist and grey. That may sound morose or depressing but it isn’t’. Perhaps my lugubrious nature finds joy in things most would find gloom in, who knows??? I eventually got home and its always a good feeling walking in the door to be greeted by my buddy Erin who stretches out in anticipation of a belly rub. All in all the trip was a very good one. Probably the best this year. I got to play to an attentive audience, got a drive through some beautiful country and I made some new friends in Gwen and Bruce and Mugwump. Can’t ask for much more than that.
Monday, September 1st, 2008 9:24 AM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour-Cleveland Peace Show
September 1,
It’s the morning of the Peace Show. I’m tired. Didn’t sleep well last night. One of those nights where you wake at 4 in the morning and then toss for a few hours. I’d have slept in until nine or ten if I didn’t have to get downtown by eleven. Oatmeal and a bagel are my breakfast along with the usual quantity of coffee, what would I do without coffee? So the day looks excellent. The weather has cooperated all weekend long. There was a bit of rain Friday night but now it is gorgeous and has been for the last 3 days. We play at noon so it probably won’t even be hot when we take the stage. We will do the same set as last weekend. I may have to do a tune solo to boot although I haven’t really given that much thought. Probably Fallen Angel or perhaps All Stays The Same with Chris and Jay on backing vocals. We briefly went over that a couple weeks ago. Didn’t need the extra song last weekend. Regis is doing the sound. That’s good. I’ve always gotten a good sound when he’s been at the helm. The only problem with the show today is that I have to go back to work tomorrow. Ug. People shouldn’t have to work. There are so many other more interesting things to do in life. Money, things, it’s what drives us to work. Sure it’s good to eat and drink a certain amount but most of what we have we don’t need. Do I need a laptop, do I need a drip coffee maker, do I need a studio? Not really. I do need music. Making it, listening to it I do believe these things are essential however one guitar would allow me to do that. One gets used to it and it starts to become a need so you are afraid of doing without. Guilty as charged. We consume an awful lot in this ocuntry. Shit the budget just to make war and have the tools of making war is so ridiculously huge. I read somewhere that we spend more on arms than the rest of NATO combined. If that’s true we are either really wasteful or really really chicken. Either choice doesn’t sit well with me. Then again I also read that someone claimed prior to the 2004 election that Bush would win because no president has ever been removed while at war. If Bush knew that little tidbit it might be part of the explanation as to why he started a war (although there are others OIL, CHENEY, OIL) . One would think the American people wouldn’t be so stupid as to send the man who started the war back to the oval office. I mean he was also the dude in charge when we got hit on September 11th. Yet he used the threat of a terrorist attack, which his administration failed to deter, to get re-elected. Now he continues wreaking havoc and mayhem on this country and its people and its economy. I just don’t get what people are thinking. Are they really that dumb. I hope 8 years has woken them up a little. Now given all that I will be playing a Peace Show this afternoon. It’s the least I can do and hopefully it is the last Peace Show we need to have.
6:00 PM
Man, was that fun... We played well, the audience seemed to dig it and it was all for the cause of Peace. I can’t ask for anything more than that. What a great event. Sure as we cut into "One by One" planes were roaring over us but it was not going to daunt us. We just cranked it out best we could and challenged their din with our own beautiful noise. In the end all they could do was fly over and make a lot of noise while we were able to reach people and spread the message of peace just a little further than it had been at the beginning of the set. Perhaps it’s a small thing. But a lot of times you gotta take baby steps to eventually achieve a greater goal. I mean if you look at the history of the Peace Show the first was only 3 hours long and drew only a hundred or so but today there were over the course of the day thousands who passed through and were offered the message of peace. How anyone could turn that down I have no idea. I remember the first time I played at the Peace Show it was with The Kind Revolution and that was the 4th annual one in 2005. The audience had already grown from the first however back then you still got a lot of people coming to or from the air show who would taunt or try and mock us and our message of peace. Well this year I saw none of that. I guess after 8 years of Bush and his war making you kind of got to just shut up and keep walking because you just don’t have a pot to piss in. At this point it is so clear that Bush was wrong to go into Iraq and that all his lame excuses for doing so were lies and obfuscation. The Peace crowd was right about Iraq. War is a horrible thing. Sometimes war is justifiable. But when you attack a country that has not attacked you or anyone else for that matter you are completely wrong and I see no way of arguing in favor of that.
Back before the war I remember being in Trinity Lutheran church on Euclid Avenue listening to variious speakers prior to a march against the war and they announced that in London there were over a million people assembled in protest against the war and that in Rome there were over a million people assembled in protest against the war. It made the hair on my arms stand on end. There were several hundred in that church that day but we were not alone. Across the planet people had risen up to protest the march to war that the Bush administration was orchestrating. We then got up and proceeded to march down Euclid Avenue in 8 degree weather. It was cold, incredibly cold, and yet I would do it all over again even knowing we didn’t stop the war. To anyone not blinded by the Bush administrations bullshit it was so damn obvious that they just wanted to go to war. Indeed Cheney has since said that they would have done so even if they’d known there were no WMD(which I am pretty sure they knew). Think about it George Tenet said it was a slam dunk but then afterward the Bushies said they got bad intelligence. My question is if the information was so bad why did Bush give Tenet, the man with the bad intelligence, the medal of freedom which is the highest civilian honor. You don’t reward someone who has screwed up. You reward someone for doing exactly what you wanted. So there you have it... pretty obvious if you can think independently.
So today we celebrated peace. How can anyone say that is a bad thing. There are probably those out there but they are wrong. It was an honor to take part in this celebration. Everyone sounded good. A guy named Zach wowed them as he went wandering off with his wireless guitar wandering as far as the corner of 9th and Euclid, Mike Rotman, the Waterband and of course Tao Rodriguez-Seeger, the grandson of Pete Seeger. He was quite excellent carrying on in the tradition of his grandfather. He had flown in from Minneapolis where he was protesting at the Republican National Convention and he was headed back there from the Peace Show. He played banjo, 12 string guitar and sang in both English and Spanish. Outstanding. I’d go see him again any day. So it was a good day. A good cause and a good time. Chris and Jay rocked. I can’t say how much I appreciate their efforts on my songs. And lastly I have to send out kudos to Tim Smith who organized this and has been the mastermind behind all these Peace Shows. Talking to him you can tell it is a monumental effort, you can tell there have got to be times where he might want to quit and yet he doesn’t quit rather he has done this year after year with greater success each year. Well done I say to Tim and all the volunteers who make this happen. Well Done!
Saturday, August 30th, 2008 10:18 AM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour- Post Upstate New York
August 30, 2008 Cleveland
No Melbourne popped up but I did have a brief performance for a school of deaf kids at a facility in upstate New York. They seemed to like it. I didn’t put it on schedule because it wasn’t open to the public plus it came up rather quickly. It was in the Chataqua area near Sherman, New York. A few hours there and then a few back. Pretty country to drive through. Now I am back in Cleveland getting ready for the 2008 Peace Show at the Free Stamp. This should be fun. I played at it back in 2004 or 2005 with The Kind Revolution. That was a good day. The lineup also included Burning Sage, Jim Volk, Susan Weber and Monet’s Orbit, the Jimiller band and some others whom I can’t remember. Since I’ve been back I have been hearing the jets warming up over head although this years practice runs don’t seem quite as noisy as some years past. The actual air show should be in full flower at this point. This morning it is quiet. It is a nice day. There is wetness on the ground from an overnight rain and the humidity is high. It feels good outside ad the humidity makes it smell good too. I don’t play until Monday so I have today and tomorrow to do whatever I please which is one of the ways I like to live my life. Serendipitously whenever possible. I, of course, need to practice and do that sort of stuff but I never think of that as something I have to do as much as something I want to do. It’s making music which is what we musicians are here for. We have to do what we have to do in order to facilitate the ability to make music. All too often that means having a day job and doing that so one can indulge in one’s life’s work. The other option is try and make a living playing music. That isn’t something I would want to do while living here in Cleveland. Cleveland has some good points but supporting the musicians is not really one of them. Some cities supposedly do this. New York is suppose to be a good music city but then you have to pay a lot more just to stay alive so I’m not so sure that you can make a good living there playing music, original music I am speaking of. Alas. I can’t worry about it to much life is too short. So I will practice. I also want to work on some new stuff and hopefully have that prepared for my show in Seneca, Pennsylvania on September 5th. I am looking forward to that. It’s a tiny little town south of Erie. It may be smaller than my home town, but it seems like a vibrant place for music. Then of course I have to figure out where to have the annual miniature golf tournament. I think this is the 15th year we have had it. That is usually a fun time. We have set the date for the 20th of September although the venue has not been chosen yet.
Sunday, August 24th, 2008 8:32 PM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour-Cleveland, Ohio
August 24
It’s early. I got my coffee and read for a bit. Soon I have to head down to the festival area and drop off some equipment. Mainly the amp.. As they are closing the road off we won’t be able to get near the stage later. Chris is going to be dropping the drums off around this time too. It’s hot. Hopefully the rain will stay away until well after the event is over...hopefully. I feel good. I’m tired. Probably stayed up too late last night but what can you do. It was too hot to go to bed. It’s too hot right now. The house didn’t cool down much over night. I am perspiring just typing this. Ug. Oh well. I fill you in later when its over.
Well its later. It’s over. I am exhausted. Being out in the hot sun all day really can drain a man. Tack on to that a performance and boom you are the walking dead. It was good though. It sounded good and I got a good response from the folks I talked to after. There were probably 500-1000 people at the Walk and Roll and I would say, having been there through most of the acts, we had the biggest crowd there. It was the b est the three of us have ever played. It was fun. It would be nice to get used to playing in that format. Because we only do it intermittently I never really get comfortable playing with other musicians. I am very comfortable playing alone because I do it all the time. We play next on Labor Day at the Peace Show at the Free Stamp. This should be fun. We are the opening act which has the advantages of getting your equipment in but I would prefer to play later. Not so many people will be there right at noon (which is when I think we are scheduled to go on) Still it’s a show dedicated to Peace. I’m not going to complain its an honor to be able to take part. It’s a great cause. More on that later. Today was good. I am tired and I am home and I think a Martini is in store. I grabbed a burrito from Chili Peppers on the way up 185th. It has since disappeared (the burrito not Chili Peppers). It was good. I had a small glass of vino with it. It too was good. I was hoping they had their Tortilla soup but they didn’t. One burrito may not be enough to get me through until tomorrow. My cat is glad I am back. She is sitting looking at me as I type this out. The sound was excellent. Ritchie’s sound company is the best I have ever had to deal with. He kicks ass. You get a good stage mix. The guys he hires are always cool and friendly and accommodating. And it alwayssounds good!
One disturbing thing occurred prior to playing. I was talking to Jay and Pete MacDonald of the Waxwings when a little kid who was fishing in the pond near the stage (thus the title the Pond Stage) Held his fishing rod out and there was a frog that had bit his hook and he was holding it up and the frog was hanging with his arms and legs spread. When I looked at him the kid lowered it to the ground and asked "Can anyone get the hook out of the frogs mouth." Jay, Pete and I looked and first suggested cutting the line, but it was the kids only hook and he didn’t want to lose it (plus the frog would still have a hook in his mouth) . So Pete reached down and managed to get the hook out. (Yay Pete, kudos to you!) The frog sat surprisingly still as he did this, apparently he realized he was getting help. Then he put the frog by the edge of the pond and at first the frog just sat there, perhaps a little in shock from all that had transpired. Then Pete put his hand down and nudged the frog from behind and he jumped in and hopefully lives a full and rich life from here on out. The image of the frog dangling was hard to take though. At first I thought the kid was playing with it, torturing it if you will (unless you subscribe to the George W. Bush interrogation manual then it’s got a different name) but when our eyes met that was when he asked if someone could get it off the hook. I think he just didn’t know what to do. Then again the cynic might think he was torturing it until an adult saw him. I mean he had no idea that I wasn’t a real adult. I looked like one from a distance. So he assumed I was one.
Speaking of the Waxwings, they were excellent. I really enjoyed them. 2 brothers and 2 sisters (and one of the sisters is marrying one of the brothers), playing ‘old timey music’ as they called it in Oh Brother Where art Thou. Vicki Chew did the expected, which is to sound fabulous. What a voice she has. Good songs and a great voice, how can you go wrong? She was accompanied by Dave Huddleston on bass. A very talented dude, sings, plays a bunch of stuff. People like that make me kind of sick (it’s cuz I am jealous. ) With any luck I will learn to play the guitar really good, if I keep practicing. The belly dancers were... interesting. They belly danced as we were setting up for their set. It was a fun day. I am tired. I’m glad I got another show with Chris and Jay. I am glad I got another show in Cleveland before I hit the road again. (Unless another Melbourne fiasco comes along. Gators in the streets... )
Saturday, August 23rd, 2008 7:49 PM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour, Melbourne Florida
August 13 Cleveland
Got a sudden chance to play a festival in Melbourne, Florida. I think it’s the Deep Seafest or something like that. I was in Melbourne a few years back and it was a nice stretch of beach with a good seafood place. Now the festival had a cancellation and someone who knows Ms. Dannon suggested my name and we were in. Supposedly there are some big names playing... Dylan (Biff), You Too! And Arnie DiFranco. We gotta rush though, the festival is on the 17th. We have tickets for a flight on the 16th. It’s just going to be me and J. Kinslow going. I’m looking forward to it but I am a little worried because I am going to have to give up my guitar to the baggage brutes. It makes me kind of anxious. I hate traveling by plane. I am looking forward to playing. This is the biggest festival I have played so far this year. Having good head liners is soo important I realize I am on the less famous side of groups like U2 or the Dave Matthews band or whomever so it’s good to get in front of their audience and perhaps it will grow mine. Who knows. That’s how its suppose to be.
August 15
Tomorrow we leave. I am hearing reports of Hurricane Fay in the Carribean. Just my luck it’ll probably hit just as we are flying in. I hope not. I am totally packed and ready to go. One bag with both clothes and effects for the guitar and then my guitar which we have been able to weasel a ride up in the attendants area. Goody that makes me feel a little more relaxed about this. I’ll be able to concentrate on the music. Tonight I am just going to sit back and relax and play with the cat. I won’t be gone that long though so she’ll be ok. I’ll get Hal (not his real name) to watch Erin. Anyway I think I am going to make dinner. Salad Nicoise or something close to it. I don’t have any boiled red skins so it really won’t be Nicoise. I think I’ve the rest of the ingredients. Maybe a glass of Pinot Noir to boot. I just bought a bottle of ‘earth friendly’ stuff so hopefully it’s worth the price of the bottle (which wasn’t that much... it doesn’t have to be that good to live up to it’s price.)
August 16 Atlanta
I am presently sitting in the Hartsfield-Jackson airport in Atlanta. It’s maddening. Hurricane Fay has been hitting the coast of Florida and they aren’t letting my plane fly in. We were going to go to Miami and then drive north to Melbourne but they cancelled the flight. J. Kinslow is off trying to get a hold of the promoter. He wants to know if the festival is even going to go on. It’s an outdoor event and even without the high winds there is a ton of rain. This sucks. I’m sitting in one of those bars that are along the concourses on the way out to our gate. I hate airports they drive me crazy. Maybe its Florida or perhaps Melbourne. The last time I was traveling to Melbourne I ended up on a plane where the attendant popped the inflatable emergency ramp and we couldn’t fly. They had no replacement part and the plane couldn’t fly without the ramp by law. It was maddening. It was the first time I had ever been put up in a hotel by an airline and had to eat on their vouchers. Their vouchers didn’t even total up to one of the entree’s on the menu of the restaurant I had to eat at. I went elsewhere. It was an Italian place, a chain Italian place. I can’t remember of the top of my head. It wasn’t Olive Garde or Buco DiPeppo, I’d get it if it were a multiple....Carrabba’s that’s it! It wasn’t bad, nice waitress very friendly and attentive. She was pregnant I remember so I gave her a big tip. She had a child coming it was the least I could do. It’s an ugly job but someone has to do it (having babies not waitressing). So life in the airport is just smashing. I wonder how J. Kinslow is doing. I wonder if the festival is cancelled. I am guessing it is. I mean if we can’t fly in it certainly can’t be conducive to playing music out of doors. Damn. I was really looking forward to this.
It’s later. I am now looking out the window in the loading area. I am not getting ready to load its just a place that I could plug my computers power cord in and do this. My battery was getting weak and I need to run on direct power. We aren’t going any where soon and the festival has been canceled. What a waste. I could have stayed in Cleveland and gotten more rehearsals in with Jay and Chris. Alas. As it is we will practice Tuesday and Thursday and then the Walk and Roll. A slight twist there, we are headlining it!!! It went from almost not even doing it and heading to my home town West Branch for some golf and some R&R and family time, to headlining the entire event. The whirlwind world of entertainment. I really don’t think I qualify as entertainment. Art perhaps (small A) but entertainment isn’t really my goal. I think it’s communication although so often I am at a loss as to what it is I am trying to communicate. Feelings perhaps. I remember reading an essay by Leo Tolstoy years ago when I was at John Carroll. It was for an Aesthetics philosophy course. Dr. Pugh taught it. The gist of Tolstoy’s essay was that music is the communication of feelings. It wasn’t a language per se but it was communicating that which couldn’t be put into words. That’s the best I can do to summarize it 25 + years later.( I loaned the book to another student and they never returned it... bastards. I don't loan things now. I know better..) I remember reading an interview with jazz guitarist John McLaughlin where he said for him music was ‘the face of God’. Now I am not sure about that. I’ve not seen God so I don’t know what his face looks like (it’s like when people see Jesus’ face on a piece of toast... how do they know it’s Jesus’ face, we have no pictures of Jesus! Maybe it’s someone else. Maybe it’s Fred Swanson or Josh Lewis or someone else whose name I don’t presently feel like making up.) Despite all this I can see how one would connect music with the very basic questions of God and existence. I’ve have often espoused that music is as essential as air or water. I get a lot of funny looks when I say this but none the less it is something I feel. I think if I were denied all music, and I mean all music... no whistling or singing and obviously no going to see bands or playing recorded music... You were denied even the ability to silently think of a tune (although I don't know how that would be done...) Under those circumstance I think I would die. Perhaps from madness ot perhaps it is an essential physical substance. There is something in music that, for the musician, comes from one’s very soul and for the listener touches the depths of one’s soul. That is about as specific as I can get. But me a beer sometime and maybe I will get more specific for you (buy me 3 beers and you’ll be telling me to shut up.). Anyway the Atlanta airport sucks. I’m going to head back to the concourse bar... I need more than just electric power.
Well I am sitting in a room at the Westin Inn which is right here at the airport. J. Kinslow got his own room and I get this one to myself. We both like our privacy so this works out. We can’t get out of Atlanta until eleven in the morning. It is later. I turned the tv on briefly but it was just an annoying noise so I turned it out and grabbed the laptop. It’s a nice place here. Way better than the Travelodge in Jackson. (Never again). We ate at Palio’s, the hotels restaurant. Pretty good. I had a pasta dish with lots of veggie’s, garlic, and spices and of course olive oil with a heavy sprinkling of grated Parmesan. The glass of Cabernet was particularly tasty. Now I am alone in the hotel room, It’s nice. J. Kinslow has OK’d me using room service. He knows I probably won’t but I know he wants to use it so he didn’t want to seem exclusive, I guess although I am not sure why right now is different from the rest of the time. None the less I dig having this room to myself. I should order a cocktail from the bar just to use room service. Nah, I’m not really in the mood. I think I’ll climb in bed and drift off to sleep while watching TV. I don’t have cable at home so this is a treat, sort of, I actually find myself switching through lots of channels for a long time and sometimes I never settle on a particular channel before I turn it off and turn the lights off. I wish I could open the windows. It’s not possible. I will have to use the AC. Too bad there is such a good breeze tonight, the winds got to be at least 15mph, I could probably get away with just the window being open. I'm up on the 6th floor so it should be brezzy at this level, it's only in the upper 70's outside. Alas... AC it is.
August 17 Cleveland
Well I am back in town. It's Sunday night and I have to get up in the morning. This was a tiring waste of time. Oh well. Time to turn my focus toward the Walk and Roll. We’ve 2 rehearsals this week. I am looking forward to it. There will be a song I have never played before live. I wrote and recorded it and it ended up on Stained Bliss but I have yet to play it live. It isn’t something I can play solo it needs a band. This event I will have a band with me. That is cool, I get to hear some of my stuff in a more fleshed out manner. Playing solo is fun but it is lacking in a lot of ways. As someone who likes to arrange music playing solo is the total antithesis of that. It does challenge you to make a good arrangement with just a voice and guitar... and in some instances some effects.. It has it’s charms. At least when it’s a good night. Then again all music has its charms when it’s a good night. And when it’s a hideous night it sucks and you want to take a automatic weapon to the audience for not having the intelligence to listen and appreciate you. You left the weapon at home though so you just continue to play and be ignored. You get used to it. Sort of... not really...!
August 23 Cleveland
The rehearsals went well this week. Tomorrow is the Walk and Roll Festival. I am calling it a 'festival' because 'event' doesn’t sound grand enough. I want to headline a Festival, not just an event. It should be fun. I spent today working on some of the stuff for the show and then goofing around with the guitar. I put new strings on my electric for the first time in a looong time. (Seriously no one should ever go that long wo/changing one’s strings) It sounded good so I ended up jamming with my new looping pedal. I hope to use that more live as I get more familiar. Anyway I will fill you in on how the show went. Tomorrow probably. Although maybe not until Monday. At least the Florida fiasco is over. Last I'd heard there were gators swimming in the streets of Melbourne.
Saturday, August 9th, 2008 7:56 PM EDT
Stained Bliss World Tour Jackson part 2
August 8 Cleveland
It’s morning. Coffee steams the toast is buttered. It seems like its going to be a fine day. There is a crispness in the air that I was hoping for. I remember years back a friend of mine was in town from Arizona and we’d been at a party the previous night down in the Tremont area and it was ridiculously hot and humid. She was leaving the next morning and I was on vacation. A storm blew through and it got cool and crispy with blue skies and huge puffy clouds floating overhead. The road called me and I went on a long drive with nowhere as the destination. I remember heading up into Michigan that day and it was just such a joy to be alone going nowhere in particular with no one to deal with. The day was similar to today. Of course today I am heading to somewhere (Jackson) and I do have a purpose. Still I was hoping for a day like today and I got it. Hopefully that is a good sign.
Jackson
Well I am at the Travelodge here in Jackson. It’s about three thirty and I just ate a pretty good tuna Panini from a sandwich joint across from the Jackson Coffee Co (JCC). The hotel is...let’s just say it’s not a luxury hotel. Through a screw up with Expedia I ended up with a smoking room. Luckily it doesn’t smell like a smoking room. However there is what appears to be unburned pipe tobacco on the floor and there is a nice spot where one of the previous guest put a hot iron on the carpet. The furniture is banged and dinged, which is odd because on Expedia it said the rooms were all new. Clearly not the case.. It I have experienced this hotel chain before. Last summer while traveling across the country with 2 friends we stayed at one in Walla Walla Washington. It worked well enough for the 3 of us and was not the worst place we stayed while traveling. We did have one of the best meals just up the street from there and had 3 glasses of wine that were procured from the catering section of the same restaurant. You can see them at Vital Mines Website on the far right side there are pictures from the "Finding America Trip" (www.vitalmines.com). Sadly only one of the 3 still remains unbroken. It has been left in my possession to protect and use accordingly. Travelodge’s are cheap rooms nothing more nothing less. J. Kinslow won’t spring for anything unless it draw attention (i.e. Bonham and his TV throwing escapades) thus I need to keep my costs down. Breaking even is a goal. There is a pool though I probably won’t have time to check it out. There is also a lounge. Not sure if that’ll come in handy or not. It’s possible my friend Desiree will show up for the show. It’s also possible some family will attend. I hope so but I have no information indicating they are. They do know about it. There is also a chance that a friend from high school who lives in the southern Michigan area will show up. I’ll call her Beth (in case she objects to having her name on this... thus the name Desiree too!) It’d be nice if Beth showed up. We had played guitars together way back when I first started to play and write music. I even wrote some music for some lyrics she had given me. We will see....
Check out is at 11 A.M. so that will inhibit my exploratory urges in the morning. We’ll have to see what time I wake up and get moving. I don’t want to leave the car around with lots of equipment showing in it. Then again what is the risk in Jackson Michigan on a Saturday morning. Who knows. I’m looking forward to playing. I hope the throat doesn’t bother me too much. It has been problematic at times. We’ll just have to see how it all turns out. Well I am going to lay down for a bit and rest. I’ll head in around 5:30ish I stopped at the JCC to see when I could start setting up and they said pretty much any time. I hope to be setting up by 6. Show is at 7. Later....
Cheers to playing the first road gig I ever booked. It went ok. Nothing spectacular. The people who were there listened. I appreciate that. It wasn’t a big crowd. One of the people I was talking to on the break said that it was probably smaller than normal. The place was on the second floor so I could play all the sensitive songs I wanted without a frappacino steaming noisily in the background. I sold 2 CD’s to boot. (Wo hoo if I can do this another .5 million times I’ll have it made) I may have broken even on this trip. Wow imagine that. Didn’t lose money. Of course to do so I have to stay at this Travelodge. Perhaps Travelodge is going to find a place in my travel history. Maybe Travelodge will hold some symbolic meaning. Maybe Travelodge are just cheap places to stay. I think I also stayed at one in Eureka California. That wasn’t so bad cuz there was a really cool natural food store across the street. It was like Wild Oats (yes I know they are now all Whole Foods but this place was like Wild Oats.... that is it had a Wild Oats vibe). I ‘d have been back to this lovely hotel sooner except a guy named Frank was talking to me when I was trying to tear down. I hate that. I didn’t want to be rude but its hard to concentrate on tearing down and trying to make sure you don’t forget anything while you are being talked to because you are genuinely trying to listen. You are genuinely trying to both and thus you do neither very well. The attractive blonde women who worked there realized he was keeping me from my task at hand and politely shooed him away. Then I was torn down a quickly. In fact the attractive blonde (not to be confused with the attractive brunette) stated "wow that was quick" I explained my dilemma and she understood. The 2 women working there were really nice. I felt bad because I was tearing down and they were just sitting there waiting. I thought I was suppose to play 7-10 but they actually close at ten. I probably could have torn down at nine thirty. Alas. It was fun. It was fun setting up with 2 guitars. I had never done that before, correction I did that once with my classical but it was then that I realized that it had a pickup that buzzed. That’s a guitar I need to get out and play more often
So now it is later and (11:00ish) I am at the Travelodge and there is a party going on outside my room. It’s people my age and older but leaning towards the older crowd. Perhaps a family gathering with cousins and uncles and aunts etc. They sure laugh a lot. It’s like they’re drunk. I am pretty sure they aren’t thinking "People might be asleep" It doesn’t bother me. I have the window open and am enjoying the night air coming in. (Beats the AC) It’s cool but not that cool. I could stand out there in the shorts and tee shirt that I have on. I stopped on the way to the gig and picked up a bottle of Jamesons. You can buy booze at a drug store in Michigan. It’s a beautiful state. Jackson is certainly more interesting to me than Fort Wayne. I’m not sure why. Not to say I would take a vacation here (although the women at the JCC were attractive!) But I will go down town on the morrow and perhaps get breakfast. For some reason I don’t think I am going to want to food made at this place. I was kind of leery of even using the ice machine. But alcohol is being poured over the ice so that should kill bacteria. I was talking to a guy working on the environmental controls were I work a few weeks back and he was saying how almost no one cleans out the filters on ice machines and the bins the ice is in. This is the restaurant type where you lift the lid and scoop your ice. The ice here falls into your bucket. Not sure if that is a better but that is what is mixing with my Irish whiskey. No one I postulated as possible shows showed. No family or Beth or Desiree.... alas. Of the 3 I thought Desiree but she has let me down. I am almost crushed by it. But nay I shan’t allow an other to be the designator of my happiness. Oh Desiree why have you forsaken me???
Now I am at the Travelodge sipping Jamesons and digesting a Subway veggie delite foot long, though I only ate half. I will take the rest to eat while I drive tomorrow ( that was true at the time I wrote this but before the cock crowed the other half was gone). So the drive tomorrow is not rushed. Other than wanting to get back to my cat I’ve no reason to rush. J. Kinslow won’t pay a second night at a hotel, he won’t even pay for this quality room I have. Ms. Dannon has said she would try to use her influence to get him to ante up but he remains firm. She doesn’t realize just who she is dealing with sometimes I think. J. Kinslow is going to do what he wants. He will fund what he feels is worthy and make others donate their services to him on other occasions. He gives the Headwhiz Consort a lot. I won’t argue. Babakar is my friend and I wouldn’t deny him for my sake. He would do no less for me. Often while I’ve been out here on the road my thoughts shift to Babakar and the Consort. I wonder where he is and how Amadou is. I had an e-mail from him recently but he didn’t say where he was sending it from . He seemed well but he was brief. I wonder how the other members of the Consort are doing. Barney was in town recently and we sat in my back yard and grilled some food and enjoyed a nip or two of scotch. He had to get back to New York the next day though. He had rehearsals with the Shards. The others I’ve not talked to in a while, except Art and he seemed miffed about something. Kept asking me if I needed any Lambeg drum on my next album. He said he’d been practicing soloing on it. Found it to be very cathartic. That’s Art for you.
So I am at this Travelodge in Jackson Michigan. The city is better than the hotel. I tell you more about it after I wander downtown tomorrow morning. I left stuff in the trunk, not guitars. I could leave them there while wandering but I would still have the guitars visible in the back seat. I’ll probably, unless I get up late, go down town before checking out and then hit the hotel, which is by I-94 get my stuff and check out, and then hit the freeway and head home. There is a possibility to stop at the Ottawa Wildlife Refuge but you still have the dilemma of the guitars. If I did stop I wouldn’t go on a long hike I would just float near where the car is. It’s beautiful there. It’s just that it's more likely for people to be near where everyone parks. People are lazy and don’t want to hike way out. If I didn’t have the cars I could possibly see doing the entire 5 mile trail. I’ve had some wonderful moments at Ottawa. Ask me about being bombarded by a red winged blackbird some time (Alfred Hitchcock was in the forefront of my mind at the time). or seeing a bald eagle or watching a beaver. I guess it all comes down to when I get up. Downtown Jackson is only about ten minutes. I could go down wander for an hour and easily get back by the eleven o’clock check out. Anyway I think I have said all I can say for the evening, Pehrpas more on the morrow!
August 9. 2008
So I get up and go down to the breakfast room and there is a big tv on (Of course, people would have to talk to each other without the boob tube thank God that isn’t allowed to happen) and I hear mention of the American (athletes?) being attacked. I get in on the conversation at a point where its wrapping up. I figure I’ll grab a couple coffees and go back to the room and check the TV out figuring there will be more but after a half hour the main story is John Edwards affairs. Is this a beautiful country or what. I also catch a story about Bush telling the Russians to use peaceful means in the freshly sprouted conflict involving Georgia. Bush saying to use peace that is one crock of dung. The man who has started 2 wars and may start a third before his terms over (remember November 5th, it’s the day after the election but more importantly I am at the Barking Spider that night, weird things often occur when I am at the Spider... that’s November 5th. The election will be over so he won’t hurt McCain because he will either have won or lost by then). Oh and the breakfast bar here is one of the lamest I have ever seen. I go to get an apple juice and some almost clear liquid comes out. It seems like dirty toilet water. So I settle for a couple cups of Joe to take back to the room and decide to eat downtown Jackson. Any way It looks like a gorgeous day again. The weather has been splendid. (Editor’s Note: John didn’t find a breakfast place to eat at in downtown Jackson. So he didn’t eat anything and went to the JCC for a cup of good Joe and then wandered about... he said it was a blissful experience)
Cleveland
It’s about 7 now and I am back. My return trip was very good. I took I-127 south out of Jackson and crossed the state line and then headed east on US-20. An excellent choice as one’s favorite waiter might say in hopes of buttering you up for a bigger tip. The big freeways suck. I-94 and US 23 and I-280 and the Turnpike all suck. Driving on these other roads through beautiful farm country was just so much better. It makes it easier to drive. Yes its slower but it doesn't grate on me as much. I had to go through parts of Toledo to get over to Route 2 which took me up by the lake past the Ottawa Wildlife Refuge. I stopped in for about a half an hour and took some photo's and just enjoyed standing breathing the air, watching the flora and fauna. It was just too glorious of a day not to stop when it was right there. An excellent choice! Leaving there I drove across Sandusky Bay and then it merges with I-90. At that point driving ceased to be enjoyable and my only thought was to get back. Which I did and then I proceeded to crash for a much longer nap than I planned. I awoke around six thirty. 3 hours... I must’ve needed it. It’s good to be back and the drive and weather couldn’t have been better. I have come to the conclusion that I need to get a new CD player in my car. It keeps cutting out in the middle of songs. Nothing more annoying than really grooving on a piece of music only to have it start jumping around or having the sound disappear altogether. The Tourcivic (my 11 year old Honda which got over 39 mpg on the first tank... damn good girl) needs this done to it. Get the cheapest combo of CD player/installation available. I don’t need nothing fancy just something that will play CD’s. Plus I will get it so I can load it from the drivers seat. Mine is presently a six CD changer in the trunk. Boy is that the stupidest idea I ever heard (except perhaps invading Iraq, or bombing Iran, or voting for Bush or voting for Bush the second time when ya really should have known better or... oh forget it I could go on. It’s almost over hopefully the darkness will lift with the removal of Bush). Anyway I’m back and the next 2 stops on the Stained Bliss World Tour are once again here in Cleveland. The Walk n Roll and the Peace Show at the Free Stamp. Hopefully the latter need only to be done this one more time. I don’t see it happening but it’d be nice to dream. What is life after all without one’s dreams... Cheers!
Thursday, August 7th, 2008 10:31 AM EDT
Staned Bliss World Tour- Cleveland
August 5, 2008 Cleveland
Tomorrow is the Spider. I’m glad that Ms. Dannon was able to book a Spider gig before the Jackson show. I can test some things out in a comfortable and familiar setting. She’s really on the ball that women. Sometimes I think that Mind Fry would fall apart without her. So I rehearsed tonight. I did end up going and picking up a monitor to take with me to Michigan. It’s a Berringer powered monitor. It sounded good. If I have any complaint its that its almost as heavy as my PA speaker which I was hoping to avoid. (The guy at Sam Ash said it ate the lighter and more expensive Fender monitor alive so that made me feel good that he’d actually recommend the cheaper unit! ) Ultimately it will make it easier to sing. The Firefly in Fort Wayne had a nice setup but they didn’t have monitors. I may try some new tunes out tomorrow. I have one called "Local100 (There Was Power In A Union)" which is a take on the Billy Bragg tune "There Is Power In A Union" (which might be a traditional and not a Bragg original but I don’t feel like getting up and checking). I call it Local 100 cuz that is my union and they suck big time. Unions have done a hell of a lot for the American worker (no child labor, 40 work week to name just a few) so I don’t want to diss them across the board but when your union raises its dues 5% and only gets you a 2% raise that pretty f%@ked up, if you will excuse the colloquial phraseology. I also have one called "I’m Gone" which I will play and I hope I can remember the lyrics. Luckily at the Spider I don’t mind using a cheat sheet. Usually once I have a cheat sheet in place I don’t have to reference it. If it’s not there you are going to forget the lyrics. You just start thinking about forgetting the lyrics and worrying that you are going to forget the lyrics and then of course you do forget the lyrics. It’s really best if you just don’t think and go out there and just do it ( no NIKE did not pay me to say that... if they did I wouldn’t have... ) and then things usually go fine. I’m also looking forward to testing out the new Wechter. It has a 3 pickup system and at Waterloo I only used one because of the set up. There is a tiny microphone inside the body that you have to connect with an mic cable instead of the usual 1/4" jack. So I’ll be using both my piezo and the mic simultaneously at the Spider. That should be fun. Definitely sounded good at the rehearsal tonight. You are wondering about the 3rd pickup... well it’s a single coil pickup (kind of like a Fender Strat for you non-guitar types) and they inherently have a hum or buzz (thus the invention of the humbucker pickup) I talked to Abe Wechter (who owns the company that made the guitar) and he said they are going to be getting a humbucker for them in the not too distant future so then I’ll be able to use all 3 at once. It’s pretty cool actually. Anyway I am probably talking to much guitar tech for ya’ll. It’s exciting to get to try this though. Well I’m in need of sleep. Tomorrow the Spider and then the world ha ha ha....or at least Jackson. I had a friend named Charlie who used to live there with his mom when he wasn’t living in West Branch with his Grandmother (my home town for those who don’t know me well enough to know my history). Ask me about him sometime...
August 7 Cleveland
It’s morning. I’m sipping my second cup of joe. (Don’t expect me to write, think, breathe or anything else practically without my coffee) Next to water and Guinness it’s probably life’s most precious liquid I might even rank it above Guinness.... water you need to make both so that’s a no brainer). It went well last night. The throat felt rough but it held up well enough. Got a good response. There was some event over at the Wade Oval that had people down in the University Circle area for the night. This meant that at least for the first set it was well attended. I did my best to drag the first set on knowing the place was gonna clear out once I took a break. Someday I will just take not take a break and see how long folks hang on. Once you give them that chance to leave they take. Last night I noticed a couple people were starting to leave which is why I took the break when I did. I can’t blame them. It’s a Wednesday night and people got to work in the morning. This isn’t New York where the work day starts later and the night never ends. It’s Cleveland, a dirty stinking post industrial rust belt city where folks got to get up and drag their ass’s to their jobs and make their living. It’s a dying town. Just this week a Forbes poll came out and Cleveland was in the top 10 of the fastest shrinking cities. In fact Ohio had 4 of the top 10. Dayton, Youngstown and Toledo were the other 3. Only my home state of Michigan had more than one with Detroit and Flint. Something about the Midwest folks must not like. Perhaps it’s the weather, perhaps it’s the unemployment rate who knows? You can see it all over the place if you drive around this city. Go down East 185th and check how many empty store fronts there are, drive through Slavic Village, go over to the Clark-West 25th area or head south on East 55th. We are indeed a dying town. Tack that on to some of the other accolades Cleveland has received in recent years (poorest city in America, fattest city in America...) And you can see why folks are dying not to stay here. Me I can be a miserable ornery curmudgeon pretty much anywhere and if nothing else Cleveland is cheaper to live in and I have the lake just up the street. Then again that brings to mind yet another accolade we have recently acquired. 2 of the worst beaches in the country in terms of pollution, are just up the street. That’s right Euclid Beach and the Villa Angela beach (although while I am familiar with Euclid Beach the area by Villa Angels is actually just a bunch of big rocks to prevent the lake from dissolving the shore, by erosion not chemicals... I think... not really what I would call a beach.) So while it is nice to go and check out sunsets from its shore I don’t actually immerse myself in the water. It’s too bad. Dipping into the formlessness of water is a beautiful refreshing thing. It can cleanse the spirit and the soul. Then again if it burns your shorts off I suppose its not that good of a thing. If you have a boat you can take it out past the sludge line that is near the shore and then swim. I don’t have a boat unfortunately.
So now that I’ve ripped Cleveland a new one let me say the show was fun. Afterwards I talked to Bill Lestock who had been there the whole evening. Bill is one of the most talented musicians in this fair city. He plays everything (I’m not exaggerating... guitar, fiddle, drums, bass, mandolin) and what he doesn’t play is probably just cuz he hasn’t tried. Some folks are like that. I struggle by best I can to be a decent guitarist... It was good talking to him. Sometimes I skedaddle too fast after gigs and don’t mingle. I forget you can learn a lot by talking to folks and listening to what they have to say. You think as a writer I would do that more often. You always hear about writers who hang in bars and stuff like that... then again those probably aren’t the good writers. You do have to actually put the instrument or pen or computer in your hand to get things done. Still love them or hate them people can be a very interesting species. I still haven’t decided how I fell about the species. Most of the time I quote the Little Drummer Boy (from the Christmas special that is done with the figures like the Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer special with Burl Ives as the voice of the snowman) which is "I hate people... ALL people" but when I quote that I am usually being humorous... usually. People taken individually can be wonderful caring generous beings but when I look at the species as a whole it leaves me less optimistic. World hunger is unnecessary, war is a complete abject failure, pollution is something that is primarily caused by greed. These things are not required and yet they exist and thus when I step back from the species my view is a bit on the dismal side... Alas, tomorrow the Jackson Coffee Company.
Saturday, August 2nd, 2008 9:15 AM EDT
The 2008 Stained Bliss World Tour- Cleveland
August 2, 2006 Cleveland
I wake up and I am disoriented. Must’ve been up late last night, possibly drinking, maybe not. I look around and think "This hotel is a dump" when I realize I am at home. There is the Arts Fest today. Doing it with my friend Jay. I scratch my head and get out of bed. My cat Erin doesn’t move. She stays laying there unless I get in the shower right away, then she knows I am going to work and gets up to see me off, but I’m not. I go and make coffee and she is happy to stay sleeping. She’ll eventually join me in the kitchen but it’s her weekend too so she is going to sleep in. I go to the kitchen and instinctually put the coffee on and then do the dishes from last night. I’m a slob but I do my dishes everyday. Not sure why I take care of that while the rest of the place looks like hell. I make some toast and when the coffee is done I pour a cup and read this months National Geographic. It's suppose to be a nice day. Although it was suppose to rain last night and didn’t so what do the weather psychics know? Hopefully the rain that didn’t come doesn’t come during our set. That’d suck. Alas the nice thing about being on the road and having the road take you through your home town is that you can live like you aren’t on the road. I’ll practice a bit and get a bike ride in before the show. We don’t go on until five this afternoon it’s only a little after 9 right now.
Correction, I just looked outside and while it generally appears dry my front mat is wet and there are some spots where it is still wet, we must have got the rain predicted, good... hopefully it has moved on and today’s festival will be sunny and nice!
It’s later. The show went well. It was a nice set up. The sculpture garden was in the shade. That’s a problem with street fairs is that they often are out in the blazing sun. It was still hard to see the LED’s on my effects. I played the entire acoustic portion of my set with a slight amount of delay. There were no monitors so I didn’t realize it until it was too late. Alas. Gigs like that are always interesting. You have to set up rather quickly so things don’t get checked and the chance for error is increased. What can you do. Got paid for it though. I like that. No CD sales though. Ya never know though. Someone in Fort Wayne recently purchased a CD from CD Baby about a week after I played there. So there is always hope. And what is hope? Nothing but the chance to be disillusioned heh heh heh... what can I say. My electric guitar sound was bothering me though. From where I stood it sounded like it was being played in a Quonset hut. Just didn’t like the tone I was hearing. I debuted the new Wechter guitar. Without monitors it was difficult to know what it sounded like but it felt real good. That’s a plus. Sadly I can’t say that for my throat and voice. Again it was bothering me. I only played 4 freakin’ songs and it was not doing things the way I wanted them to. Ug... So then I sat and listened to Katie Daly’s band. It was her doing spoken word stuff with 2 guitarists who added some vocals singing. It was pretty good. She’s a nice way with words. I remember doing a show called "A Night Of Ferocious Noise" or something like that. It was an anti-war thing. She did a spoken bit about George Bush running off to the circus in France. Used a French accent the whole time. That was really good ! I screwed up a fair amount playing. I didn’t decide what to play until I was actually on stage. I had it narrowed down to about 5 or 6 tunes. I should have set it in stone before. It made a difference. I had to sing the same verse in "Sons Of Abraham" twice cuz I forgot the first verse. Ug. I just hate that. "Fallen Angel" was probably my best song although playing "Cold Today" on electric with the distortion cranked was cool. That was the first time I played it live the way it was on the CD. Always a treat. This show makes me want to go get a powered monitor to take to Jackson with me. Just so I can hear myself. It makes it easier to sing. Well over all I guess I am happy with the show but I can’t say I’m giddy about any of it.... I like it when I play shows and am giddy afterwards. Those are really good performances. Alas what can one do....
Thursday, July 31st, 2008 8:15 AM EDT
Cool Cleveland Review of "Stained Bliss"
Stained Bliss
John McGrail
MindFry
What does one make of the title to John McGrail's latest disc, Stained Bliss? From the artist's mouth: "A happiness that is tainted. A good life with imperfections." Works for us and, apparently, for the host of characters who wander through McGrail's dusty tales. The singer-songwriter and guitar maestro entwines experimental flair and indie-rock pathos with jangly folk rock, greasy blues and haymaking country on this winner. But like his compatriot Susan Weber, McGrail is not content to stop there, making those styles hauntingly ethereal. The bluesy "90-Year-Old Man," "Fallen Angel" and plaintive "To His Knees" definitely have the ghosts of others in them; the jangly warmth of "All Our Fallen Tears" feels like an old friend and a campfire in September and "Anger," which offers decidedly lo-fi indie-folk vibe with its nods to Dylan and Ochs...? Well, it offers numbness in the face of stark, raving violence. Credit where it's due… this is a great, chilling recording from someone who has managed to stay below the radar in Cleveland. To be fair, McGrail isn't for everyone... but when a songwriter makes you wonder if it's his heart or the blood from someone else's on his sleeve, well, that's gotta be worth something.
The 2008 Stained Bliss World Tour- Jackson round One
July 24, 2008 Cleveland
I’m getting things ready. Not as much to pack. I only got to play 2 songs so the equipment needed is minimal. Judging by the video’s on JTV site of past performances I am expecting them to just stick a mic on the guitar and voice. That’s good. I am taking the old Alvarez. It has served me well over the years. Plus in a situation where the guitar is just getting mic’d the Alvarez has a better sound. Plus it has new strings and the Wechter doesn’t. It sat in the showroom of Sweetwater since June 10th... over a month. I suspect the new Wechter will take over most live duties from now on. Its easier to play and the pickups are more diverse. Still the 2 guitars seemed to get along ok so far. No cat fights here. The gig bag is packed and I am almost done packing the backpack with clothes and sundries (no not undies... although they are packed.) Obviously the laptop isn’t packed but pretty much everything else is. This is an easy pack. It’s reassuring to know that as long as I have my guitar I can do it. While my capo’s are packed if I forgot them I still could do 2 songs. Barring last minute adjustments I am going to do "One by One" first and "Don’t Make Me Stay" second. Bart interviews me between the songs according to Karen Hawley (who I assume is Bart’s wife, though it could be his sister as there is a 3rd Hawley listed on the staff... a son perhaps??.). I am looking forward to it. Afterward I will head to Ann Arbor and hang out for the night. Like I said after Fort Wayne, some cities have appeal some don’t. Ann Arbor does Fort Wayne didn’t, and probably still doesn’t. I wonder if I were touring through Cleveland and didn’t live there if I would find it alluring. Ya never know. When I was at Cleveland State I always dug walking down to the Old Arcade and hanging out. People watching (ok mainly babe watching but sometimes it was non-female humans........... occasionally) sipping coffee, waiting for the time to blow off my next class because I was having too much fun. I might just find Cleveburg something worth exploring. But right now I have some pasta cooking and some broccoli and garlic waiting to be steamed and then tossed with the pasta and basil and pepper and Parmesan cheese and then eaten with a glass of Cabernet and I will explore this culinary adventure first before exploring the state to our north. I feel good.
July 25, 2008 Jackson
I did it! It was fun. I was really nervous and my throat felt dry and rough but it was fun. I almost didn’t make any mistakes. (If you saw it can you find it???) Everyone was really nice. I wasn’t sure what to expect never having done something like that. I could see where performers could get moved in and out like cattle but it wasn’t at all like that. I came in they let me warm up and then during commercials they checked the sound. I didn’t totally botch Bart’s interview but I never like the way I respond in those. I remember being interviewed on John Carroll station and it was just awkward. All in all it was a very good experience. I wonder if I looked cute or not. Anyone reading this was I pretty? Would chicks dig me from the way I looked??? If so then its proof positive that being on TV makes you more desirable.... ( I suspect I didn’t look cute!).
Ann Arbor
So Now I’m at the Microtel waiting for a friend to show up who lives up this way. We will call her Desiree (I don’t like to put peoples names on the web, they may not be comfortable.) We will eat dinner and probably knock back a Martini or two. One bad thing, the room is a smoking room, (which I knew but its what was available for less than a hundred bucks... seriously) and unlike some smoking rooms you can tell here. Alas, I am off to swim. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee
It’s post swim. Desiree ought to be here soon the swim was excellent. Did it and then a nap. I am tired from all the driving and nervous energy spent with the TV show. It’s good tired. I am looking forward to a good meal in downtown Ann Arbor. This is a fine city and I enjoy just walking around in it. In the morning I will go downtown and wander by myself. Solitude. It is something I always crave practically. It is hard to explain to other people. If they have similar leaning they understand otherwise so often I get this look like I just suggested we walk into the police station nude or something. To be free from restraint and able to wander and do what one wishes, to follow ones whim is something that is special. There are drawbacks of course as there are with any path one takes but in the long run I know that the solitary path is more likely to make me happy. I’ve had people express envy of my ways as their choice of paths keeps them preoccupied with the lives of others. There’s is a selfless path. I cannot claim such selflessness. I am indeed selfish. Perhaps it is why I perform solo because I am too selfish to consider others ideas when they play my music. I don’t know. Perhaps in the future I will find a less selfish path. Probably not, I am too selfish to do so. One can only wonder at this point. Of my desire for solitude however I do not wonder. It is six thirty. Desiree will soon be late.
July 26, 2008 Ann Arbor
Dinner last night was at a joint called ZanzibzarDesiree and I both had an awesome fish stew. Salmon, scallops, some type of shellfish, (which I gave to Desiree) shrimp and spinach in a curry broth. Plus they make a good martini (with habenaro’s in them... I ate one of mine... later I burped and the curtains in the hotel caught fire... they’re going to bill my credit card for the damage). It’s early and my head is clear not having a day of driving or chlorine or gin in it. Yesterday was fun. It seemed like a lot of effort for a couple songs but I got some golf in and a good meal and now I am in one of my favorite cities in the country with time on my hands. I will head downtown in a bit. Desiree and I managed to go on line last night after dinner and catch some of the rebroadcast at 11. The wi fi kept cutting out but I was able to hear most of "One By One" some of "Don’t Make Me Stay" and most of the between song interview with Bart. I‘m not a good interview. Like I said yesterday everyone there was extremely friendly and made me feel at ease. That’s not always easy with a head case like myself. I don’t get at ease around humans all that easily. Perhaps that’s not a good thing for an "entertainer" (I prefer the word ‘artist’ without the snotty uppity connotation sometime attached to it) to be, but it’s the hand I have been dealt. Would I choose to be this way? Who knows. There are things I like about it and then there are times where I have to deal with humans and I just don’t do a very good job at it. Alas ... So I’m going to go downtown this morning and just hang. I may stick around long enough to get a good lunch at Raja Rani’s. It’s an Indian cuisine joint I’ve been to before and its pretty damn tasty. Then again there are a few other places to I could eat at. Either way I want to hit the road and get back to the offices of Mind Fry before the end o f the day and file my travel report with J. Kinslow and turn in my receipts for reimbursement and all that (J. Kinslow will reimburse me for alcohol but not food and shelter or gas..... heck he will even replace a TV set if I want to chuck one out the window ala John Bonham! It's good PR he says). A quick note on the Microtel breakfast... adequate. Small bowl of Cheerio’s (that’s what we used to call "donuts" in high school, You know when you are in a frozen parking lot and you spin your car round and round and round until a cop comes and busts you... or something like that.) A bagel that came out of a plastic bag which I then toasted and then coffee with caffeine in it. The coffee downstairs n the lobby is better than the stuff that came with the coffee maker in the room. It’s one of those deals where the coffee is encased in a filter pack and you can’t make it stronger or weaker. You have to take it as it is. I often carry my own coffee but I am trying to simplify my packing requirements. The less I take the less I can forget when I am leaving a place. I mean suppose this World Tour takes me to Saigon or Dakar or Charleston West Virginia and I forget something. It would be a lot more difficult to track the lost item and get it returned to me safe and sound ya know. Simplify man!!!!!
Cleveland
The world tour takes me to my home city for a couple gigs. This is good. Being out driving all the time can get old. I’ve seen a lot of Western Ohio these past few weeks and I am going to be seeing it more in the near future. Sometimes it just seems like that dotted line goes on and on. Ya wake up and you don’t know what city you’re in you’re not really sure where you are going. Everything looks the same... Speed limit 55, Speed Limit 70, Controlled by radar, Exit Only that’s my favorite one. It sounds so ominous. You can ONLY leave you cannot enter ha ha ha like some evil force is throwing you out and there is nothing you can do about it....... Or something like that. It’d be nicer if it was cooler. Sometimes the sun comes blasting through the moon roof and it’s like I am in an oven. The wind created by the cars movement is not enough to stave off the incessant rays of the sun. If it was a convertible it would be enough... trust me on this one.
But for now I settle in and prepare to conquer Cleveland. This Saturday I play the Waterloo Arts Festival. I am not totally sure of what time I play but it is later in the day and it may involve a ‘song writer in the round’ set up my good friends Jay Bentoff and Cindy MacKay. And then the following Wednesday it’s the good ol’ Barking Spider. Venue of Venues. Starting place for so many. Martin’s cool. He will give folks a chance. I don’t know many other places that offer so many opportunities for free live music. It is alwasy fun if not well attended. Week nights with a starting time of ten p.m. makes the draw difficult. At least for us ol’folk. It’s not my last gig there this year. I play again in November. I’ll have a day of rest and then its back to Jackson for the concert that I did the Bart Hawley show to promote. That should be fun. I checked out the room and the P.A. and it’s a good set up. I’ll take the same set up that I took to Fort Wayne but I will probably take 2 guitars. Maybe even a guitar stand. I never take guitar stands but then I never could take 2 acoustics to a gig. If I am playing one the other needs a place to rest and it makes the stage area look cool when you have gear about. Gives the impression that you are serious.
Saturday, July 19th, 2008 8:55 PM EDT
The 2008 Stained Bliss World Tour- Fort Wayne
July 17. 2008 Cleveland
So it’s the night before the big world tour starts. Soon I will be out on the road. Such a classic thing. The Road! So many people have romanticized about it. Kerouac, Steinbeck, Jackson Browne, Spinal Tap, Ray McNeice to name a few. Now I can do it too. It took the whole night to get the bus, er, Civic ready to be loaded in the morning. I am really hoping there are hordes of groupies out there wanting to make it with an aging folk musician, I mean why not? Hef has bunnies galore and he’s way older than I am (granted I’m not stinking rich... stinking on occasions, especially after bike rides on 90 degree days, but not rich). I suppose there are few things like taking some young thing back to the Red Roof Inn and, well you know... the rest... watching TV, having a nip of scotch and then telling her to go home when its time for bed. I really hope she has her own car cuz at that point I’m not driving her. I have to get up in the morning. There is the next stop on this wonderful journey I am about to start. In all seriousness, ok in some seriousness, I am eager. Who knows what will happen in Fort Wayne. Did you know it’s the home of John Chapman. (Not John David Chapman... just John Chapman) Who is he you ask??? He is known also as Johnny Appleseed and just as he spread his apple seeds I hope to spread my musical seed so one day it will be growing in Fort Wayne but also in the future it will cross the entire nation and eventually the world, and all will know of the music of John McGrail. One can hope can’t one? I realize hope is just an opportunity to be disillusioned and disappointed but what the heck without hope one is a dead soul. So I have hope and I have optimism and if nothing else I get to take a road trip and play my music for some folks and have some fun. Who else out there can claim anything that exciting this weekend??? Well it is late and I must get ready for sleep. Tomorrow a new adventure awaits me. I hope I can sleep ( one more Dewars and I don’t think that will be a problem). Peace and good night.
July 18, 2008 Fort Wayne
So I made it without a hitch. The drive was warm but nice. With the sunroof open and the windows down there was a good breeze so it never got unbearably hot. Driving across western Ohio is a flat drive. I had been warned that it was a boring one. I have to disagree. Not that it is flat, that’s inarguable, but not boring. There is good to be found everywhere. Flat open areas while they may seem boring give one a view of the sky that is wide and expansive. This I appreciate. Perhaps my upbringing in northern Michigan in an area that is also relatively flat has conditioned me. Perhaps it tugs at my roots and I long for the simpler time of childhood. Who knows. It was none the less a good drive. Getting into Fort Wayne I of course got lost but fortune smiled on me as I got lost pretty much where I was suppose to go. I kept heading west on a Indiana route 930 which wasn’t on the map I had. But it crossed Anthony Blvd. Of course this had to be the same as North Anthony Blvd. that the Firefly is located on. My next dilemma was whether to turn left or right. Turning right seemed to be north to me (which usually means its south) and in this case I chose correctly. I when I crossed the Maumee River I knew I was headed n the right direction although I did not really understand how I got to where I was. I found the Firefly and Cyndi Demarree, the owner was there and was exceptionally welcoming and friendly. We chatted a bit and I left some equipment there and then it was off to my Red Roof Inn. This is where the happy tale goes dark. I’ve always appreciated these Inns, They’ve always been clean and reasonably priced. Well I pull in and all over there place are sign advertising a price lower than what I had gotten. OK I can handle that but the condition of the place is not the usual Red Roof standard and I am dismayed. I start fearing that it may be one of those places you might find in a David Lynch film or something like that. I check in and enter my room. It’s warm and the AC isn’t on. Also I turn it on and notice that they ask me to conserve energy when I am not in the room by turning the AC to low. Well the low is the only setting so I guess I will conserve energy the entire time I am here. I’m tired and want to rest up so I shrug this off eat a sandwich, shower, type this and now I will nap.
Post Show
1 scotch poured at the RRI. Its between eleven and eleven thirty. The moon is full. The coffee shop wasn’t’. I got 40 bucks out of it and 2 sales. I also got free tea water and tea. It was ok but it is not worth the drive. Ya gotta do it to find out. I mean if they responded wildly I would definitely come back but unless I’m gonna be in the area there really isn’t any point. I’m trying to be disappointed but I’m not. I knew going in to this that was the odds of it being a good room (and the room was good, I liked the way they had the sound pumped throughout the inside of the place). The girl behind the counter was a cutie and there was a couple that came in and they were listening closely and responded even to my witty commentary. A guy came up after I played "Don’t Make Me Stay" and said he used to be a Jesuit. I was on stage so I forgot to ask him why he wasn’t one anymore. That was probably a discussion to have over this scotch that I am drinking. He said he really liked the song and asked if my uncle had passed. He was sorry and thought my Uncle John would have liked it. Would I do this again. Only if circumstance changed. Would I do it if I didn’t know the outcome, yes, yes I would. And it would make me feel the way I do right now. Which isn’t bad. It does make me think that trying to play live music and have people who didn’t come to hear you actually give a shit is a crazy idea. There were listeners, don’t get me wrong but it was a bad omen when after the opener (One by One) no one clapped. (Eventaully the staff caught on that they should clap if no one else did) There was the spastic kid on my right who bounced and rocked all the way through it. He did the same during "Don’t make Me Stay", " Weighs On My Mind","If I Only Could" etc. "Do Not Stand In My Way" threw him a bit cuz its an odd meter. He stopped and looked briefly at me. Then,best I could analyzewhile playing an odd metered song, he started rocking in 1/4 time. That’s exaclty what I would have done if I were in his shoes. He also was drawing with ink crayons. At one point he was getting so wound up (I thnk it was "All Our Fallen Tears") his dad, who was one of the computer people went over to his table and scolded him and the kid calmed down. Shit he was reacting more than anyone else. Let him rock. In Cleveland at least the computer people quit typing and clap and then boom right back to the keyboard, ya know they were listening. Not the Fort Wayne Computer People. Cyndi was very nice, I will say that.
All this makes me ask "Why do music. Why not be a prostitute." I mean this gig was being a whore. Why am I not more bitter? Probably because it was something I had never done before and now I have done it, probably because I was expecting it given the nature of coffee house gigs, probably because I needed to get out of Cleveland really really bad. Next week is Jackson and the Bart Hawley show. 2 songs and then I’m out of there, It wll be my TV debut as a performer although this past year I was interviewed down at Talkies Coffee shop in Ohio City on the study that said women are smarter than men. Or something like that. I had my maroon knit cap on. I think I leaned towards women being smarter. But being dismissive of both sex’s intelligence.
It’s a full moon. Its just outside my room. I can stand in the hall outside my door ( a hall that is really a outdoor walkway). There is a nice wide railing that I can rest my scotch on (oh by the way I’m on #2 now). It’s a nice moon. There are some wispy clouds that gently border it. They compliment the view without affecting the fullness of the moon. It floats up over the neon glare of the titty club next door (a.k.a. gentlemen’s clubs). This area I am in has a fair amount of titty clubs. I came up Coliseum Blvd. and right after I went by this mall/shopping complex there was a stretch of adult entertainment places, including Hooters. The area the Red Roof Inn is in ain’t that savory but I think I am safe enough in my room (famous last words eh????) Anyway I had enough of thinking. See ya in the morning
July 19, 2008 Fort Wayne
Rose at 7 thirty. Stayed up until one or so sipping scotch and staring at the full moon outside my room. It was beautiful. Now its about 9 and I ate over at the Liberty Diner across the way. Usual fair eggs, toast home fries and coffee. I’m gonna try to get out to Sweetwater relatively early cuz I’d like to hit the road earlier than I was initially planning. Can’t say Fort Wayne has mesmerized me. There is nothing I have seen that makes me want to come back. The area the hotel is in is kinda scuzzy and there are a ton of chain establishments in a big shopping complex east of here. Nothing personal it just doesn’t have much appeal. I’d rather be in Cleveland (what an insult!). Still I’ve the drive home which can be less direct. I wasn’t rushing yesterday but I wasn’t dawdling either. Today we, if I so desire, will dawdle. I will take a drive through the downtown area before I go. I don’t want to have to leave the car anywhere with my stuff in it for too long, at least out of sight. Sure its smaller than Cleveburg but there are still criminals. There are a potential 252,000 people who just might want to break in to my car and steal my stuff or the car itself (and thus the stuff). I ate too much for breakfast and now I’m sluggish. The coffee from the lobby isn’t very good. The Liberty’s coffee wasn’t that good either (it was adequate). I probably should have gone to the Firefly but that was in the other direction. I could walk to the Liberty. A stroll across Goshen Road and I was there. It's a 24 hour joint on Fridays and Saturdays. Wish I had realized that last night. Wouldn't have eaten the 2 tubes of bean paste I got from Taco Bell. Bleah, did not hit the spot at all. Check out is at noon. That’s good I don’t have to rush. I’ll be out before that though. As soon as breakfast wears off. Later.
Home
It’s about 7:15. It’s good to be here. Fort Wayne was not a place that really grabs you. I have been in towns where there is just something about them that makes you want to linger and check them out, Ann Arbor comes to mind, but the city named after General "Mad" Anthony Wayne (no relation to Bruce discovered... so far) is not such a city. I mean it can claim that it is the home of Johnny Appleseed and the first garbage disposal, which was originally called the electric pig ! ( How cool is that for a name. ) But I really didn’t see much that I found alluring. I might have gone to their Art Museum but I didn’t want to leave my equipment in the car. I did go out to Sweetwater but they only had one of the guitars that I was hoping to check out... so I bought it. That’s correct I am the proud owner of a new Wecther Pathfinder weeeeee!!. It was kind of dangerous to do because the room you are in testing the guitar out is such a good sounding room and of course they have a sweet sounding acoustic amp waiting for you to plug into. I took that into account mentally but who knows what subconscious effect it had on my decision making. I am happy though. Of course you think I’d be spending the rest of the night playing but I’m too zonked from driving. It was warm. Luckily there were clouds for a good portion of the return drive that kept the sun from beating down directly. I didn’t take the route I took to get there. The home route was a little slower and longer. It took Indiana route 930 until it split and then traveled a road that cut between where US24 and US 30 and headed due east. When it hit Ohio it was Ohio 613 and I took that into Fostoria where I stopped and got gas. This allowed me to calculate my mpg’s and my eleven year old Civic managed to get a whopping 41 mpg on the first tank of gas. I was impressed I thought it had tailed off to around 32 (it used to get 35-38 pretty consistently. Not sure what caused the uptick. Don’t much care, the drive was nice. Lots of corn. Really... LOTS of corn. At one point I clocked a stretch of over 3 straight miles where there was a wall of corn growing on one side of the road or the other and quite often both. That was cool you felt like Luke Skywalker in the first Star Wars where he is flying in these thin caverns just below the surface on some planet while being attacked except that no one was firing at me, except perhaps the suns ray gun. Then again I had a cloud force shield up to help protect me. In Fostoria and got on to Ohio 18 which then led to US 224 which I rode until I hit Route 4 then I headed north. At this point it’s approaching 3 in the afternoon and I realize I want to get home. My cat is missing me and vice versa. I was going to stop somewhere and get a beer and a sandwich or something but by the time I found a place to do so (not a lot of beer and sandwich joints amongst the cornfields) I was about an hour from home and the road was wearing me. I could see where if you did this, even with a ridiculous financial gain, it could get tiring. It would beat going to work for the city, or in a coal mine or pumping gas, or flipping burgers or being an NBA star, ok, maybe not an NBA star... then again if you are making LeBron dough it just might. So now I am home and the first leg of the tour has ended. Next week Jackson Michigan to appear on the Bart Hawley show. Look out Hollywood this is the first step before I give up on music and land on the silver screen (although they really aren’t silver, LCD probably these days) Peace.
This young lady grabbed the award from the potential grasp of one Dan McCafferty. Mr. McCafferty had everything he needed to take home his second consecutive award except for one small problem... he didn't show up, which if you follow this award presentation you know is one of the stipulations for winning the prize. As Ms. DeChant is too young to be in a bar at that hour it is allowed that a parent or legal guardian could accept the award for her. Indeed her father, who finished 3rd, was present to accept the award. We congratulate Ms. DeChant for this maginificent achievement and for keeping John from taking the trophy home himself. The following is the order of the top finishers:
1. Karli DeChant
2. Dan McCafferty
3. Dave DeChant (aka Projectile Vomit)
4. Julie Simmonds/Kathy Ilersich (tie)
5. John McGrail
Saturday, January 5th, 2008 11:08 AM EST
Mind Fry Enterprises
is proud to announce that John McGrails latest album
"Stained Bliss"
is now available.
Stained Bliss
The latest release by John McGrail finds our hero exploring new territory musicallly and lyrically. The political is still there in bits. Don’t expect that to go anywhere anytime soon. After all what do you expect a man in love to write about—love of course. A man pissed off about the direction his country is going.... well you can come to your own conclusion as to what he will write about.
Yet this time round there is more. Prejudice, religion, aging, despair, even love! Yes even love. All pretty happy things. Then again life while good, is not a bowl of sherry, or scotch or even Guinness, so don’t expect it to just roll out in front of you with everything just as you wished. Things don’t always go the way you want them to. Roll with it. It could be worse. It could be much worse. If you don’t live in Bagdad be thankful, if you have enough to eat, be thankful, if you have a roof over your head be thankful. If you have friends who love and care about you... well you get the drift. It’s Bliss... it just has some stains on it!
He was talking to the drummer after he´d gotten finished with a take. It was the last take of the session. The drummer was nodding his head in agreement and the sax player was sitting in the chair behind the counsel. He also ran the board.
"I think the way you did it on the last take was best, more subtle and reserved" Parish Swank said to Herold Forman. Herold nodded his head in agreement. He really didn´t care what it sounded like he was just doing the session for the money. He hated Swank´s stuff. He was a jazz drummer and this guy was playing folk rock. Granted he had some chops but it wasn´t out there in the stratosphere. That was where Herold felt most comfortable. Still he was friends with Parish and wanted to help him, plus Parish paid union scale. He was doing pretty good for a folk rocker. He managed to run his music like a business and made enough to be able to pay Herold a wage he couldn´t resist. Jeremy, the sax player called Parish over and started talking to him so Herold said goodbye explaining that he had to be somewhere in a half an hour.
He walked out into the hallway of the studio and stopped and pulled a cigarette out. He put it in his mouth and didn´t light it as he walked down the hall toward the light at the end of the hall where the cold February wind awaited for him. He got to the 2 glass doors and stopped. It looked cold and while it wasn´t snowing much the wind was blowing a lot of snow around making it seem like it was snowing. Herold pulled his hood over his capped head and lit his cigarette and stepped out into the cold. He started to walk towards his car and the wind hit him from behind pushing him a little. His car was 2 blocks away. Parking was difficult in this area. He got to his car and got in and fired the engine up. He cracked the window a little to let his cigarette smoke out and he let the engine warm for a couple minutes. He pulled out and started to drive towards the main avenue ahead. He took a left on Chester and drove for about 5 miles and then he saw the bar he was going to. He pulled up in front of it and there was an open parking spot so he took it and got out of the car and walked in. He changed his coat to a long khaki green trench coat he had in the back seat of his car and donned a beret instead of his knit cap. He then looked around and noticed a lot of very attractive women entering the bar he was supposed to meet Missy Alvarez at. Missy was a very pretty women, although a bit large. She had one of the most beautiful faces Herold had ever seen but she weighed 210 pounds and was only 5'6". It was not enough to dissuade his affections. He thought she had a great personality. She was smart and witty and very interesting and not clingy at all. She just was heavy. Herold didn´t think this was a good reason not to be interested in someone. They got along great. He walked into the bar, it was a place called Burns Pub, and looked around. She wasn´t there. He tossed his hair back and walked up to the bar and ordered a snifter of Calvados. Burns Pub was about the only place in Cleveland that had Calvados. He took his trench coat off but it put on his shoulders in a cape like fashion. He leaned casually on the bar and looked around the bar. There were many beautiful women there. It was uncanny. There were at least 40 women and only 3 men and a fourth who was the bartender Maz. Maz was an older gay guy who had worked in the steel mills for many years and now just tended bar for something to do. He knew Maz wasn´t interested in any of the women. That made 2 of them. He was faithful to Missy. He wouldn´t cheat on her. She had cheated on him a couple of times but he refused. He had one opportunity with a women named Abby Holster but he had resisted. Abby was a beautiful, thin energetic women who had desperately wanted him but he had resisted because of his affections for Missy. So he kept leaning on the bar and slowly sipping his Calvados. It went down smooth and easy and slow. He had a penchant to get drunk because he drank things too fast. The Calvados was something that he did not drink as quickly. Missy drank Margaritas. He would order her one when she arrived. The funny thing is that she never arrived, and after waiting for an hour for her without even a cell phone call Herold started to look at the other beautiful women. They started to notice that he was all alone. Soon they were approaching him and as Herold downed his 3rd drink he started to look back at them with interest. Soon he found himself making out with one of them over by the coat room. It was just some kidding and groping nothing that would be considered unfaithful to Missy. What he didn´t know was that Missy was hiding in the coat room observing and she had set the whole thing up as a test on Herold. So when she jumped out and started yelling at him he was dumbfounded. He didn´t know what to do and he felt ashamed. He apologized over and over but Missy would have none of it. Eventually she screamed they were through. Herold went home. He got back to his apartment and sat on his couch. He talked to his goldfish..
"Well that is what happened guys what do you think. I know I should not have done that but she stood me up. Ya know".
"Yeah we understand but you didn´t know that. She may have been hurt or something and you still went ahead and messed around on her" Ted the leader of the fish said as he held himself propped up out of the water by the edge of the tank.
"I guess I am scum aren´t I?".
"Yup, pretty much. I suppose you could go and apologize or something pathetic like that".
"Why is that pathetic huh? Why? I mean you didn´t see the chick that I was making out with she was HOT!. Missy is pretty fat. Most guys would not say she was hot by any stretch. " Herold said defensively..
"It´s true and she fooled around on him before" said Nerma the only women fish in the tank and was Ted´s girl. .
"Nobility is nobility and to do what is wrong is indefensible. 2 wrongs don´t make a right and all that" Ted declared..
With that Herold got up and walked to the fish tank and Ted dropped back into the water. Fear came into Ted´s lifeless fish eyes as he saw the giant hand come splashing into the water. It chased him around th tank for a minute or so before Ted was firmly being held by Herold. Herold then went to he bathroom and tossed Ted into the toilet and flushed it. Round and round and round Ted went until he was no longer in Herold sight. Herold lowered the toilet seat and returned to the living room. "Any of you got any problems with the way my life is going?" He asked while glaring at the fish tank. Nerma and Myles the other male in the tank both said "No" simultaneously. .
"Good, maybe we can all just get along. Fuck Missy, she fooled around on me she can just come begging for me to let her back into my life.".
"Good call Herold" said Nerma.
"Absolutely, I mean she did it to you right... twice!" Said Myles
Sunday, February 4th, 2007 10:27 AM EST
Gladys The Feline
She was owned by an old women. The old women had taken her from a shelter a couple of years earlier. She had been abandoned by a man previously and now she was with this women. She was tired of being passed around. The man was not very nice to her. He didn´t feed her much and he didn´t really give her much affection. If he hadn´t removed her claws she probably would have tried to escape but she was a sitting duck in the wild now. No way to kill her food and no way to climb a tree to safety. She realized this and knew it was her life to be dependant on people for her very existence the rest of her life. The old women was poor and fed her but never much. She knew that she didn´t eat much herself so she didn´t think it was because she was cruel, just poor. Still she always felt hungry. The women was also quick to anger. She would scream at the little cat when she missed her litter box. Once because it hadn´t been cleaned in at least a week she had gone relieved herself outside of the box the women just erupted and picked her up and threw her against the wall. Emily, that was what the women called the cat, slid down the wall and howled in pain. She survived but it hurt and it hurt her that the women would treat her this way. She tried to be affectionate to the women because it was an improvement over the old man that used to have her but she did not like where she was in life but was basically trapped. After about a year with the women Emily started to feel ill. She was tired a lot and did not have the limited energy she used to have. Her appetite was also lacking and she was developing a problem breathing. After a couple of months like this she was feeling extremely ill and the women saw this. One day without warning the women put Emily in a box that had a couple of holes cut in the side. Emily could see the women wrapping it up with tape. Emily tried to push her way out of the box because her mind went back to the time when the old man tried to drown her this way. He had actually put her in the water but at the last minute he pulled her out and took her back to their place and let her out and dried her off with the old dirty towel that he let her sleep on. She remembered the old man crying at his actions. The next day he took her to a shelter and she never saw him again. Then the women picked him up and he had been with her for a little over a year. Now she was being packed in a box again. She feared for her life and started to howl as cats do. The women just said "don´t worry Emily I´m not going to hurt you I just cant´ afford you and you look like you are on the way to some serious illness that I can´t deal with. I´m sorry but this is the end of the line for us. The shelter will take care of you or at least put you painlessly to sleep."
So Emily rode in the box on the back of the women´s bike. She hated this. The wind would chill her. It was cold as the time of the year was late winter and while the snow was gone the cold wasn´t yet. Plus she just hated the sensation of moving like this. She could feel herself moving and she would occassionally look out the holes the women had cut. When she felt the temperature change she looked out and she was inside a building with a lot of people. She recognized it as the shelter she had previously lived at after the old man had abandoned her. "This again she thought." It probably wasn´t so bad as she was always supplied with food and the place was warm. She didn´t like being kept in a cage however. She wasn´t sure if it was that much worse than having freedom of movement but being at the whim of an angry old women. She didn´t like it when she hit her and threw her around. At least she would not be harmed here. While she was in the cage her breathing problem sort of leveled off. It didn´t get worse but it also didn´t get better. So she spent her time sleeping and occassionally eating the food they brought her. And looking out of her cage. She could tell that there were a lot of other cats in the room. She could see some across the room in cages like hers and she could hear others that were on the same side of the room as she was. Life could be better but it also could be worse. One day a man walked in and was going from one cage to the next looking at the cats. This happened a lot but he was different. There were a lot of beautiful cats in the cages. Especially compared to Emily. Emily was a skinny emaciated calico with scruffy fur and a congested nasal pathway. But the man seemed to spend a lot of time reaching through the cage with his fingers stroking Emily. He talked to her in soothing tones. He would push his face right against the bars. Emily would come and push her head against the bars where the man was. She liked him. But then he left. He was the only person who had actually come to her cage. Now he was gone. "Why did I think that he would take me" she thought, and a certain despondency came over her. She didn´t realize that the shelter had listed her as not being available for adoption yet. Two days later the man appeared again and soon they were removing her from the cage and putting her into a carrier. This wasn´t a box like the old women or the old man had transferred her in. It was roomy and there were many opening in the sides. They went into the next room and the man sat talking to a women for a bit. Eventually he took Emily out and put her into his car. The whole time he was talking in very soothing tones and had a generally upbeat demeanor. After about 20 minutes the car they were in stopped and the man, his name was Ed, got out and came to the other side of the car and took the carrier out with Emily in it. He carried it inside put it down on the floor and opened the carried door. "Ok Gladys, this is your new home. Feel free to look around." Gladys, the former Emily, stepped tentatively into her new home. Ed had gone into the kitchen and got a beer out of his refrigerator and was sitting in a chair. Gladys walked around. She sniffed things and looked at things. She walked over to Ed, who was just quietly watching her. He signaled for her to jump up on his lap. She did this. He put his beer down and started to pet her. She purred effusively. She stood upright in his lap and he gently pushed on her back to make her lay down. Realizing that he wanted her to lay down she did so willingly. She curled up up in his lap and lay there for a long time. "Welcome to your new home Gladys, this should be the start of a long and good relationship." When Ed got up to get another beer Gladys´s decided to walk around and check her new home out. She followed Ed down some steps. He showed her the litter box she was to use. She stepped into it and showed him that she knew how to use one of these. "Good, you know what you are doing." I don´t think we will have any problems. You are a thin little thing let´s get you some food he said and he went back up the stairs to the kitchen. Gladys followed. When he opened the can of cat food the scent filled the air. Gladys started to meow intensely. She rose on her hind legs and pawed at Ed´s leg with her front clawless feet. He gave her the entire can and she devoured it. Then he put a bowl of water and a bowl of dry food down and grabbed himself another beer. Gladys felt full and happy. She had never felt this good in her life. Who was this Ed that was now taking care of her and why was she so blessed. She didn´t know what the future held but the present was pretty damn good. Ed cooked himself some dinner and she sat by him as he ate. He would occassionally toss a bit of what he had towards her. And she would devour it. "You´re a hungry little thing, no wonder you´re so damn skinny".
But Gladys wasn´t long for this world. She liked it where she was but she was not well. In less than a week Ed took her to the doctors where they poked and prodded and talked amongst themselves. Gladys´s didn´t know what was up. She was afraid that he was going to be abandoned yet again. But he took her back to their home and let her out of the cage and it was back to normal, although she hadn´t really been at Ed´s long enough to have a normal established. She felt tired. Ed had to start squirting a thick pink fluid down her throat which she didn´t like but she could tell he wasn´t doing it to be mean. As she struggle with him he talked in soothing tones and eventually it would be over. Gladys could tell he didn´t like doing it. As spring turned to summer Gladys started to feel a little stronger. The warmth seemed to help her. She loved it when he came home and would always be waiting at the door for him. She could tell when he pulled in. She knew the sounds of his car. As the summer ended and fall came Gladys´s started to feel weaker and weaker. She quit eating like she had been and was losing weight. Again they journeyed down to where they would poke and prod and squirt things down her throat and stick her with needles. She tried to deal with it the best she could. Ed had never been anything but good to her so whatever they were doing this had to be for a good reason.
In November the winds turned cold and Gladys started to really feel bad. One night Ed noticed Gladys being a little unsteady on her feet. He was sitting reading a book, Kerouac´s Tristessa, and he picked her up and put her on his lap. She lay there the whole time he read until the book was finished. She was purring the whole time. She felt very close to Ed. She still felt weak but she wouldn´t want to be anywhere else but where she was. After Ed got done reading he put her into her sleeping basket and lay a cover over her. "Goodnight Gladys tomorrow I´ll take you to the vets" and then he closed her in the kitchen after covering the floor with newspapers, at this point her bowels had become unpredictable, and went to bed.
The next morning Ed got up and he couldn´t find Gladys. She wasn´t responding to his calls. He got a pit in his stomach. He finally found her down in the basement on an old hassock. She looked up at him with weary tired eyes. Ed picked her up and she felt cool. He immediately took her to the vets and they took her in and tried to get her temperature up and tried to get her nourishment. He left her there and went to work. He would come back and visit her on his lunch breaks.
Gladys was scared. She was afraid he was abandoning her. The old lady abandoned her because she had gotten sick. Once again she was in the vets in a cage and feeling horrible. Was Ed abandoning her, she didn´t want to believe that. But she had no will left. Life had just gotten too hard to continue on. She was weak and tired and possibly abandoned. She saw the wet food near her but had no appetite. Feeling utterly hopeless she just lay down and closed her eyes.
On his lunch break Ed came to the vets to visit. When he mentioned to the girl at the front desk he was met with hesitation. She said "one moment" and disappeared into the back room. Ed knew why. When the doctor came out from the back room she didn´t have to say a thing. Gladys was gone. Her struggle was over.
They let him go see her body and be alone with Gladys. He broke down into tears. "Oh, Gladys, why. I tried. I hope you realized I was doing my best to keep you with me. You poor sickly little kitty." His head dropped and his shoulders started to shrug and jerk...
It was a long lonely drive back to work where he swiped out sick for the day. He just felt like hell.
Saturday, January 27th, 2007 12:08 PM EST
Bugging Security
He left his apartment. He walked first by the closed steel warehouse and then turned up Cornell. He was going to the Art Museum. It was lovely almost surreal-like grey brisk day. As he walked down the hill that was Cornell road he looked at the sky and the street scene beneath it. He felt awe. It was as if he were walking through an oil painting by a master. Perhaps van Gogh. He wasn´t sure. The brush strokes were not the thick ones typical of van Gogh but the mood was similar he felt. Perhaps a painter with different physical skill than van Gogh but a similar mental approach. He didn´t know and he didn´t really care. It was just a thought. All the cement of the street scene seemed accented buy the huge grey sky floating overhead. The wind blew up the street into his face. It felt good. He blew his hair that stuck out from beneath his beret around. His hair was dirty and thus was less likely to bounce back from the winds treatment. It would make him look a little more scruffy when he got to the museum. Thus he would probably end up being followed around the museum by the security guards.
He arrived at the property that the museum was on. He decided to walk down around the pond before he went inside. There were a few gulls floating over the pond but, as it was getting colder the geese were not present. He assumed that they went South for the season. He sat and just looked at the sky for about fifteen minutes. The he felt the chill and decided to go inside. He entered and immediately turned to the left where there was a drinking fountain. The he went in to view the picture of the St Marks Plaza in Venice. It was one of his favorites. After starring at this picture lone enough to arouse the security guards so that there was one in each of the adjacent rooms he entered the next room where a picture called "Hare and a Leg Of Lamb". He liked this one. Particularly he liked the little drop of blood at the tip of the hare´s nose. He didn´t look at the entire museum today. .Mainly just his favorite works. He went to the eastern art section to check out a stone sculpture of a figure called The Guardian Of Shiva. It was a highly detailed piece with a very threatening looking figure. Then he went and sat in front of the wood sculpture of a Buddhist Monk. He would sit there long enough and stare hard enough to get a security guard in the room with him. He wouldn´t yield. Some days that was enough to get him to move on but today he had vowed privately not to be driven from the room by paranoid security guards. And he wasn´t. There was another painting that he never bothered to check the title that was a great sunset with almost fire like qualities to it. It was over a woodland. A forested valley of pine and fur trees. He didn´t check out the blue Picasso and he didn´t go to the special exhibit. It cost 5 bucks to get in and he didn´t think it would be worth it. Plus he didn´t want to be limited to see it in case if he felt like going outside. He ended his visit in the modern section. He checked out his favorite piece "The Myth Of The Western Man". It was a giant head of Jackson Pollack. The figure´s stare was intense and the head was permeated with cracks that revealed a blue color coming from under the brown outer layer. He liked to stand in front of it but today he only got a casual glances because when he got there a guard was already standing right next to it. That was more than he was willing to put up with. He had out dueled them with the wooden Buddhist monk but he couldn´t do this, thus he looked at it as he walked by slowly. That was the last thing that he looked at with interest before he left the museum from the opposite end that he had entered it. He was on the Wade Oval end. It was a large green that was ringed by museums and a botanical garden. He left the museum area and went over and bought a cup of coffee from a nearby coffee house. It was rather quiet in the coffee house. Only a few students and a couple of rich types slumming it. He got his to go. He walked back to his apartment while sipping the coffee. As he walked up the hill to the Italian section, where he lived, the sun came out from behind the clouds. It was the first time that it had been out all weekend. It was Sunday at 4:05 p.m. He noticed a slight tinge of warmth form the sunlight. It made him feel good. It made him feel better.
Sunday, December 31st, 2006 7:39 PM EST
Hope
The year is coming to a close. Is it meaningful? I don´t know. It tends to give me a feeling like something can change and that the change can be for the better. Doesn´t mean its true. My cynicism at times overwhelms me. I try my best to fight it because ultimately I think it isn´t a good thing. It seems to stifle effort. It seems to make you release your grip on hope. Hope is something we all must have for our very existence. No matter what your path may be, no matter what obstacles have been placed in your way, to get around them you must have hope. It is essential. I think of folks who have things a hell of a lot worse than I and I can only wish that they are able to maintain hope. There are many of us who are blessed beyond all possible reason. So many of us (especially in this country where lack of excess is considered poverty) have it so good that we just don´t realize it and have never experienced (and probably will never experience) being seriously without, that we just go on oblivious to all that suffer in the world. We aren´t necessarily heartless or uncaring we just aren´t paying that much attention to anything other than our own tiny little lives so we are not affected by the problems that exist elsewhere in the world. Indeed our very leaders in the time of our biggest catastrophe told us to go shopping. That was completely absurd, even unreal. And yet that day is considered (by those who do the official considering)the high point of that particular leader´s reign. Now we have Iraq and all the problems that we have caused over there.
With a new year will things change. Saddam is now dead. Saddam´s death has not made things better. Despite popular opinion the world was a much more peaceful place with him ruling with his iron fist over the Iraqi´s. They had water and electricity. Of course such a statement will bring accusation of me thinking Saddam was a good man but only a truly foolish person would seriously make that claim. Saddam was evil no doubt but the world was more peaceful. The havoc we as a nation have wrought makes me ashamed. The reasons we claimed for doing so are even more despicable.
Will the change of the year mean anything??? Will the change of year cause any change in actions? From that perspective let us hope. Let us have hope that no matter what trouble comes to us in the future, as individuals or as a nation, that we will have hope and the willingness to overcome these trouble. Without it we are lost. For without hope what motivation would we have to act. Who would act if they are truly convinced that nothing good can come of their actions. Who would act to make a difference if they are absolutely convinced they will fail. No one I believe. It is only through hope that actions will take place. If there is hope for a better world then there can be actions to make its so. For this I am hopeful.
Saturday, December 2nd, 2006 11:14 AM EST
Fish, Coffee and Cloves
The wall is white and the plaster is crumbling a little bit in spots. There is a line of small tables along the wall. Each one has 2 chairs at it. At one table a man is sitting alone drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. It is a clove cigarette. He puffs on it slowly and with each drag he looks around and observes the people in the café. The war has been going on for a while now but it is far away. The crumbling remains of the wall show that it had existed there at one point but right now peace was here and the man was enjoying smoking his cigarette without the distant sound of gunfire grabbing his attention He sips his coffee and looks around him. The perch on his plate flips once. He notices a young couple sitting 3 tables away. She is petite and thin with closely cropped blonde hair. He has a thin moustache and a goatee. There is a large flounder on a plate between them and she looks annoyed. He smiles and thinks of one of his past women and how she always would get pissed at him. He had to side, from his seat, with the guy. He got the impression that the women was unreasonably mad. Perhaps she had wanted a raw dead salmon and he had gotten her a flounder. He couldn't really say. He took another drag on his clove cigarette and inhaled this one. He didn´t normally inhale his cigarettes, he normally just puffed on them but every now and then he would take a drag inhale it and get a little head buzz from them. He felt safe right now because the war was so distant that he didn´t mind letting loose a bit, but just a bit. The fear and paranoia that was instilled in him from having been so close to the front for so long wasn´t something he could just get rid of at the drop of a hat. Only time would allow him to be normal again. For now he was relatively happy watching the couple with the flounder between them and smoking his cigarettes and drinking the cup of coffee he had. It was a nice café. That part of the roof was missing meant that the cafe´s size varied depending on the weather. He actually liked the lines of the café with the wall blown out and the hole in the roof. There was an odd aesthetic too it. He noticed a olive skinned man at the counter sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him looking directly at the wall in front of him. The wall was lined with bottles of flavors one could have put in your coffee and they were of varying colors. Red, blue, brown, yellow, clear. He wondered what the taste would be like with each one. The olive skinned man looked worried but it may just be a look that has been etched into it over the years the man with the clove cigarette thought. He felt the olive skinned man may have worked out of doors most of his life giving his skin that cooked look. He was just speculating.
He noticed a lovely women come in through the opening where the door used to be. She had a black bandana on and was carrying a large Trout in her bag. At least it looked like a trout to the man with the clove cigarette. She walked up to the counter and a girl came out from the kitchen area and asked if she could help the women with the trout. The women with the trout ordered a latte to go. The man with the clove cigarette felt a stirring in his loins at the site of the women with the trout. She was very pretty with large soft looking breast that jiggled a bit as she walked. She had brown hair and dark eyes. She seemed serious to the man and he wanted to go up and talk to her but he feared being rebuffed. Plus he knew his motivations were mainly physical attraction which he felt wasn´t necessarily the best reason to start a conversation, although if both parties had that in mind it probably was the best way. So he sat there for a moment. After the women paid for the latte she turned and started out the opening where the door used to be. The man thought "life is short I should go talk to her" and he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, picked up his perch that had flipped itself from his plate to the floor and started towards the exit when there was a loud explosion. It knocked him to the ground and a large cloud of dust and smoke came in through the area that the door used to be. He ran to the opening and the women he was about to approach was laying on the ground. He legs were missing from about the mid thigh down. Blood was everywhere. She was alive briefly as he locked eyes with her. Just as he moved to help her her eyes closed and she passed away. The war was back.
Thursday, November 30th, 2006 9:41 PM EST
A Tale of the Great Splendido
Splendido walked into the tavern. He was performing that night. He threw his cape back off his shoulders and carried his instrument case in his right hand. He stopped at the bar where the owner Martine was sitting. He nodded to him and Martine said "Ah Splendido you have come" Splendido smiled. As he walked to the stage all the women in the room quit talking and gazed at his graceful figure as his cape flowed gently behind him. He did not take notice but rather was there to play music. He put his case down and his assistant Pablo then appeared at the door carrying his amplifier. Splendido opened his instrument case and removed his bass. It was a beautiful instrument with mother of pearl in lays on the fret board and diamonds on the volume and EQ nobs. It was rumored that the pick guard was made from the bone of one of his former enemies but no one knew for sure. He sat on the bench on the stage and plugged his bass into his amp which had been set up by Pablo. He played at a low volume just so he could hear and would not interfere with the music on the Taverns sound system. He would warm up while his band mates arrived. He was looking down at the ground unfocused on anything in particular while peppering his bass with light quick notes when he sensed someone standing near him. He looked up a smiled. It was a young women perhaps 25-30 and she was smiling at Splendido. He smiled back at her. "You are Splendido are you not" she said with a nervousness in her voice.
"I am" he said still smiling as he sensed no danger or malice coming from her.
"I have heard you play before. You were playing with a jazz group*. You are very talented. I was wondering what type of music you are playing tonight"
"Good music. That is all I ever play."
"I see, I was just wondering what style, is all?"
You must stay and see for yourself for if I gave you a description and it were not accurate and you were to leave you might just be leaving a performance that might change your life so I can not tell you, you must see for yourself"
"Oh , I plan on it I just wanted to ask. I´m sorry to bother you." she said feeling like he might be looking at her with scorn but then he said
"I am never bothered when one so lovely as you wishes to ask me questions. It is indeed my honor to answer them best as I can."
With that she felt good about it and about being there that night and was eager for the music to begin. She smiled and then returned to her table where she sat with 2 boys and another girl. One of the boys she was with seemed to be on the angry side as she sat next to him. He was talking into her ear and his face was turning a little red. Splendido laughed to himself and continued to warm up on his bass.
Then Johnny came in. Johnny was the guitarist and he was an excellent one at that. He and Splendido would often extend the jams trading off licks with each other while the drummer and rhythm guitarist kept the pace. Splendido nodded to Johnny who also came in and set his stuff up. Soon to follow were Ace the drummer and Carl the songwriter and rhythm guitarist. In a little bit the band was up and all but Splendido went to the bar for a drink. Splendido did not drink when he played.
At 10 o´clock Carl counted off the first song and the night was on its way. They blasted through the first set with intensity and left the crowd wanting more. The second set started with Carl playing a couple of acoustic numbers before being joined for a 3rd one by Splendido and then the band was back up and rocking the house. On the second to last song Johnny and Splendido went of into a bit of dueling axes that left the audience stunned. Applause exploded as the 2 axmen brought the extended jam back into the last song. The night ended for them with 3 encores. There was a women´s brassiere hanging from the end of Splendido´s bass.
At that point there was a commotion over by the door and it was a man with a gun holding it to Martine´s back and telling the people to just stay where they were. Splendido looked and assessed the situation. There was a clear line of sight from him to the neck of the hoodlum threatening Martine. Before anyone realized what was happening a long sword went flying across the room through the hoodlums neck and pinning him to the back wall. The gun fell from his hands. Everyone was stunned. The handle of the sword looked like the head stock to a bass guitar. Splendido walked over Martine and asked "Are you alright my friend, no one can do that to you, not while Splendido is in the room."
"Thanks you Splendido, I owe you my life" Martine said gratefully.
"You owe me nothing, except 1/4 of the tip jar" Splendido said smiling slightly.
Eventually the police came and Splendido returned his sword to the neck of his bass which served as its scabbard. No charges were ever brought for Splendido was merely protecting one being assailed. He made the cops job easier so they appreciated that. When the commotion died down he asked Martine for a glass of Sangria. He sat and drank it at the bar with Carl who also drank some red wine. They talked of the gig a bit and the hoodlum who had tried to spoil the evening. Then it was time to go. Pablo had already loaded Splendido´s amp into his vehicle and had taken it back to the rehearsal space. You see Pablo did not like crowds and had waited outside the entire evening in the car despite the cold early winter air. He put up with it because he new Splendido was a special person and loved him deeply. With the show being finished he had left. Splendido had ridden his horse Dominguez in. Splendido then said good bye to his mates. As he was strapping his instrument to Dominguez he felt someone behind him. He turned and it was the young women who had talked to him at the beginning of the evening."Hi" she said
"Hello lovely lady, where are your friends, especially the one who had the very red face earlier?" he asked.
"That was my boyfriend but he got to be such a pain. Very jealous. He didn´t like that I was talking to you early in the evening and then when you slew that guy that was trying to rip Martine off he forbid me from talking to you. That´s why he was my boyfriend. He´s not anymore" she said with a sound of offering in her voice
"It is probably better that way as if you are with someone and they will not allow you to be yourself then who are they with, certainly not you. Be yourself at all costs I would suggest" Splendido said and he smiled warmly. The women said goodnight and started to walk away. It seemed to Splendido that she was going to walk home so he called to her "Do you have a ride home?"
"No I came with my ex-boyfriend and he left in a tizzy it´s only about a mile and a half"
"But it is at night and you are a very attractive women, you must not walked. If you don´t mind riding on Dominguez I shall take you to where you need to go." She turned and smiled and thanked him and accepted his offer. But where she needed to go turned out to be not her apartment but rather the home of Splendido!
* the jazz group is the Swingin´ Shards led by Barney Cole the guitarist of The Headwhiz Consorts Moderne Internationale
Saturday, September 30th, 2006 10:49 AM EDT
Talking With Tony The Deer
So the forest drunk packed his back pack with the provisions he needed to get out and do a little hiking. He had a flack of whiskey in his jean jacket breast pocket and he had in his backpack a bottle of Louis Jadot Burgundy. He also has a couple of meat stromboli´s from the italian bakery around the corner for his little apartment. He had grabbed them before heading out. He was down in the central part of the state at the Mohican State park. He had gotten a good rate on the lodge so he was staying there. He had gone out hikining the previous day and encountered a fawn and its mother. He had hiked a short disatnce from the lodge just to get away from all the old people who were populating. It. It seemd like a bunch of retired folks who were taking advantage of the good rates that the Lodge had for these 2 days. He was saving 30 bucks over their normal rate. But there were lots of retiree types hanging out by the shuffle board and the paved path that he decided to follow a path that the park had closed due to the recent storms. There were fallen trees all over the area. The forest drunk could see the paved path underneath all the brush so he more or less followed that best he could climbing over logs and trunks as he went. At one point he was coming up a hill and as he popped his head over the top of a particularily large fallen tree trunk he was face to face with a fawn. It was speckled and about the size of a very small pony. It looked at him and he looked at it. It seemed the fawn didn´t know how to react to a human so close. The forest drunk wonderd where its mother was and started to speculate that maybe its mother had been killed by a car or a hunter. It seemed odd that this deer was so young so late in the year. He hoped it wasn´t hunting season, he didn´t like the thought that its mother might be killed, although he thought it was only legal to take bucks.
The fawn was still staring at him when he began to talk to it in soothing tones so as not to make it run away but as he moved his foot a twig broke and the little deer bolted and ran quickly away. The forest drunk kept on climbing the hill he was on and the fawn was always just a little ahead of him. It would bolt and wait until he was closer and then bolt. At one point it seemed confused and started to run one way and then stop and changed direction and then change direction once again. The forest drunk just kept on. He liked observing this little animal but he was afraid it might be on its own. This was a troubling thought that kept going through his mind. Then he lost track of the fawn and kept hiking. That was when it´s mother showed up. When the fawn saw her it immediately ran over to it and stuck its head under the mothers stomach. He thought it might actually be suckling but he couldn´t see it very good because a lot of brush was in the way. Still when he moved and the brush rustled the mother´s head popped up alertly. He climbed onto a log and put down his rucksack. He unzipped it and pulled the bottle of burgundy out and nestled it into a crook in the log he was leaning on and then pulled the Styrofoam container out with the stromboli´s in it. He was going to watch the deer and feast. He looked around him and the sun was lowering in the sky. He figure he had about an hour of daylight. He took a long hard pull on the burgundy and then put the bottle securely back in the crook and let the taste of the wine invade his senses. It was good wine. Not great but at that moment it was very ´right´. He picked up one of the strombolis. He caught a quick scent of it. This was made with various Italian lunch meats and black olives and garlic and cheese and mushrooms. He felt it was the mushrooms and black olives that made these particular stromboli´s so good.
As he stood on the log he was about 5 feet off the ground and could see the top of the mother deer well, the fawn he coud see but not so well. He took another pull on the wine. He noticed the mother raising her nose straight up in the air when he had taken the stromboli out. He wondered if she was getting it´s scent. He wasn´t moving much and it almost seemed like they had lost track of him. Every now and then he would moved and the mother would perk up and look his way moving her head ever so slightly and sticking her nose in the air to take the scent. It could be the stromboli she smelled or maybe just the smell of a humans. He hoped his scent wasn´t as storng as the stromboli because even with his less accutae nose he could smell the stromboli. Eventually the 2 deer left and he finished his food and drank the wine leaving about a third of the bottle. As he was climbing the tree covered path he came a cross a 6 point buck that was headed in the opposite direction. They nodded at each other and he told the buck to quit having sex so late in the year. " It´s September and your kid still has spots, keep it in your pants dude" the forest drunk scolded. The buck held his head low and shook it from side to side in. "I can´t help it, I like to have sex" he told the forest drunk. "I know we deer are only suppose to want to have sex for procreation but I like to do it just because it feels good. I´m different I guess. I feel bad because I kind of raped the doe. I mean she wasn´t really looking to have sex I just mounted her. It´s not one of my prouder moments"
The forest drunk just looked on with incredulity. "How could you do that man, that is really disgusting. Do you deer have any kind of law or order?" he asked.
"Are you kidding you humans are the only ones who bother with that kind of crap, I mean what do you think, someone who can do something will not do it? The natural world doesn´t work that way. If you got something I want I will take it. If you are doing something I don´t like I will kick your ass with out any regard to what anyone else thinks or does or says, at least until someone comes along and kicks my ass and stops me from doing it."
"That is uncivilized" the forest drunk said to the buck.
"Civilization is for humans" I mean I could kill you right now probably but then your people would probably come find me claim I have rabies or something and kill me. We know how you folks work so it all goes into the logic of it all. Besides next to your condescending attitude towards my rape, I really have no reason to have any animosity towards you."
"So you think strength is right. If you can get away with it its ok" the drunk asked.
"It´s not a matter of right or wrong with us it is just a matter of can I or can´t I get away with it. I mean if there were wolves in this area I couldn´t try telling them that its immoral to kill me. I just need to know that they will and that I had better avoid them to the best of my ability. I mean right and wrong doesn´t even come I to the question"
"So you think we are ´civilized´" the forest drunk pondered
"You can call it that and act like its better than what we do but when it comes down to it you are only civilized when there is someway of forcing you to be civilized. I mean you have folks who start wars just because they want something a certain way or because you want their land or their resources. If they feel like no one will or can stop them then its off to war so when that happens who is so civilized?" the buck said and snorted once and stomped his front fooot a couple times on the ground. The forest drunk, thinking the buck was getting angry climbed onto one of the fallen trunks so he couldn´t be reached in case the buck charged him. "Don´t worry" the buck continued "I am not going to harm you. It just galls me that you humans act so suprerior all the time. Sure you can do a lot of things but do you have the moral and ethcial compass to handle all your technology and toys. I mean we are in a State Park. You folks have to set aside for nature because you are killing off so much of it. You send folks out to kill us just because there are too many of us for the area available because you have trashed so much of the earth. Maybe you ought to be culling the human population and not us deer, eh? How can you really say you are superior? If this is civilized then maybe we wild animals have got it figured out a little more thoroughly ya know???" the buck said.
The forest drunk nodded his head. He could acknowledge a lot of what the buck was saying. Indeed he felt that they were really more of kindred spirits in ways. "Ya know Mr. Buck"
"Call me Tony, my name´s Tony" the buck said.
"Ok Tony, a lot of what you are saying is right. Humans are only civilized if it´s the best option. Which is another way of saying they aren´t civilized they are just pragmatic. At times being civilized is the best option. If it isn´t then civility goes out the window. I mean Saddam Hussein, this is a guy that ran a country called Iraq"
"Countries, that is another concept we don´t bother with" Tony said.
"I know but we do and this Hussein guy invaded a country years ago thinking he could get away with it because our country said we wouldn´t do anything about it but when he did everyone got in a huff and a bunch of nations led by this one drove him out and then over 10 years late we invade his country again for no good reason other than our president decided he should be removed. To add intrigue the president was the son of the president the first time we invaded Iraq. To deal with the civilized part of our population they had to make up all sorts of reasons for invading, that isn´t something ´civilized´ folk do you see, so in order to get them to accept us attacking someone for no good reason they made it seem like he was going to attack us. At this point it has been proven that all the reasons the president gave were wrong and that they well might have known that they were wrong and the presidents 2nd hand man has said it wouldn´t have mattered if the reasons they gave were wrong we still would have invaded. Now a lot of people are dead that need not have died. The world is in turmoil, especially that area of the world. So how civilized is that?" The forest drunk said.
"It clearly isn´t and in fact it is worse than being uncivilized because we here in the ´uncivilized world´ don´t lie about what we do we just do it. You seem to have this weird system where in order to be uncivilized you have to lie about it, which, and correct me if I am wrong, is not consider a noble thing for humans to do. Lying that is. So you have to commit one wrong so people will accept that you are doing something else you consider wrong, and I am under the impression that invading a country unjustly is something you would considered wrong. Is that right?" asked Tony.
"Pretty much" the forest drunk said as he took another hard pull on the burgundy.
"What´s that you got" Tony asked.
"It´s called wine, it´s made from grapes. It helps me deal with the world want some?"
"Sure why not, knowing how you humans are and what you can do with this world I could use something to help me cope. Plus I still feel a vague guilt over raping that doe you were looking at earlier."
Friday, August 11th, 2006 8:39 AM EDT
Latest release
Mind Fry Enterprises is proud to announce the latest release BAOBOB The Headwhiz Consort Moderne Internationale plays Cole, Wade and McGrail. It covers a wide array of mainstream avant garde and progressive music with a tip of the hat to jazz, classical, folk world music and of course rock.. A truly diverse collection of musicians playing a truly diverse collection of compositions. Led by the inimitable Babakar Wade of Senegal, it comprises a group hailing from 9 countries while having absorbed the influences of many more than that! The pieces were composed by Babakar Wade, Consort guitarist Barney Cole and John McGrail. The album is best described by Babakar himself... It is always an honor when someone asks you to create. That someone would actually ask me to create something for them so that they may enjoy it is so astounding and surprising. I love to create and the creative process is what sustains me and drives me on and keeps my spirits positive. Without it I am not sure if I could indeed exist. It is who I am and when another asks for it because they want it and it speaks to them, I am simply humbled beyond all imagination. To be able to make music at the behest of someone else is something that can bring me to tears. I am just a musician. I play music because I have to it is as essential, to me anyway, that as air. Without any form of music I believe I would die. Of course to be without music is difficult because one can always make it up. Even if one plays no instrument one has a voice to sing with. Or hum or whistle. Thus when J. Kinslow McGrail asked us to create music for Mind Fry— again— I privately had to fight back tears. Such is the honor to be able to create because someone other than myself, or ourselves, wishes us to do so. Under the circumstances we felt we had to put forth the best we could. Again The Consort found itself wishing to do an album of John McGrail’s experimental music. I contacted him through e-mail and we decided to get together to discuss it in Cleveland when I came to talk to J. Kinslow about the album. We went to a coffee shop and over cups of espresso we discussed the possible use of more of John’s music. He was in agreement but he also felt that the Consort should do some of its own music I was not so sure as only Barney and myself write much and I am not all that confident of my music. Still John seemed certain and when he mentioned it to J. Kinslow it was settled. That was what J. Kinslow wanted also. So I presented some scores to J. Kinslow and Barney got some tapes he had done of some music he felt wasn’t right for his avant-jazz group “The Swingin Shards”. They seemed to really like them. At that point John was insisting we only do our own and to forget doing his stuff. Ultimately from the collection before you we obviously made a compromise. Seems we liked his music better and he liked ours better. Such is life. So we managed to get this music done. It was done modular style as we could not get everyone to America at the same time. Still we did have the quintet of Barney, Mairead, Hans, Vladimir and myself for the majority of the takes. Others would add their parts as they were able to get to the country. Lady Brett was only able to make it once and then for only 3 days. Luckily she was exquisite in the execution of her parts. Chris Solt, multi-instrumentalist from Cleveland, also chipped with some percussion on “Jellied Zinc”. You see Robert flew from Tel Aviv to Dakar to meet up with Samba and then come to Cleveland. They planned on going over some of the percussion with the possibility of sampling it and then programming it. Unfortunately they were denied entry to the country because Samba had a copy of Cat Steven’s “Peace Train” with him. We still haven’t heard from either one of them. I have full faith that they are being treated well and that their innocence will be realized without any undue hardship suffered by either one of them. This is America after all. B. Wade 2005 Or perhaps John: What can I say. It is a complete honor to have such a talented group of people play my music. I mean most people here in Cleveland think of me as a ‘folkie’ rightly or wrongly but the Consort actually wanted to do my weird stuff before their own . I wish , and hope some day, I could have such an unselfish out look. Of course I’m a conceited pig and think my stuff is the best and no one compares to me. My rational side tells me I'm crazy as a loon* but I don’t listen to my rational side when it comes to my music cuz it don’t always tell me what I want to hear. That is the cool thing about the Consort. They are virtually egoless. They just want to play good music regardless who writes it. To be honest the pieces that Babakar and Barney brought in, I felt, could have been the release, they floored me, but they didn’t agree and ultimately it was their album. Maybe someday I’ll do my own album of my experimental stuff but as long as the Consort wants too there really is no point as they do it at least as well as I could and probably better. In fact if I were to attempt an album like that I would probably enlist them to help me out. Indeed Babakar contributed guitar to my last album, (Songs For Troubled Times) I have truly been blessed in meeting Babakar. If I hadn’t the opportunity to visit my brother in Senegal I would not know him, 2 albums, and hopefully more, would not exist. I truly feel blessed, which is not something a curmudgeonly, old cynic often thinks much less says. J. McGrail 2005 * ‘loon’ being the most polite term to use in this instance. Or even a word from Barney Cole: What can I say. I am a man of many notes but few words. B. Cole 2005
