Because Whit Happens

Nashville Unlimited 2011

2012-01-08T12:43:00.001-06:00

An overdue - and now somewhat dated - blog entry. December 25, 2011, is now so far back that its not even in our rear view mirror anymore. After the build-up to Christmas, we all zip through the day like a hot knife through butter. Then we move on to taking down decorations, celebrating New Year's Eve, watching bowl games, and bitching about winter weather.

Before leaving the season completely though, I wanted to post a show review. Nashville Unlimited has become somewhat of a Christmas tradition for me in recent years. Prominent Nashville bassist Dave Pomeroy pulls together many wildly talented performers for the show.

Each year the show is held at Christ Church Cathedral. Most of the performers are not announced beforehand. I've seen John Prine, The Steelriders, Emmylou Harris, Tommy Emmanuel, and Riders In The Sky just to name a few. No tickets are sold, and little promotion is done. The only thing asked of folks who attend is to make a donation to support Room In The Inn.

Hatch Show Print for 2011 Nashville Unlimited

RITI is a Nashville-based homeless-assistance organization. I began helping with some of RITI's programs about 12-13 years ago. Their programs are wonderful and impactful, and I credit the staff and the folks they serve with changing my views (for the better) towards the homeless.

Throughout this year's 2-1/2 hour show, Dave repeatedly reminded us about the purpose of the evening - to support RITI. Folks certainly enjoyed the music, but he frequently mentioned RITI, its programs, and that folks in the back of the room would continue to take donations. Over the last few years of this show, over $100,000 has been collected and donated to Room in the Inn.

As for the music, Pomeroy hit a grand slam for this year's show. So many folks - outside and inside Nashville - generally label Music City as a 'country' town. Some may even broaden it to include bluegrass or Americana. But 2011 Nashville Unlimited featured country, bluegrass, blues, jazz, Mandolin-laden Celtic, baroque classical, and even big band - many genres rarely associated with Nashville.

The show opened with two a-cappella, bluesy songs by The McCrary Sisters - No Room At The Inn and Silent Night.

Next up was songwriter Danny Flowers. I didn't recognize the name, but I made the connection as soon as Dave introduced him. Flowers has been a Nashville-based songwriter since the mid 1970s. His most well-known song is likely Tulsa Time, recorded by Don Williams and later Eric Clapton. Flowers said he wrote a song just for the evening over the Thanksgiving holidays. He gave no title for it, but the refrain repeated "...All I want is Jesus..." It was a wonderful number. I hope he performs it elsewhere next Christmas season and that someone ups it to YouTube. Next he sang the old hymn In The Garden a capella - again, a very moving few minutes.

Daniel Tashian from a new group named The Boxwoods then played the Christmas classic, Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire ... on a ukelele. Yep. And it was great. Not Don Ho'ish at all. Afterwards, his bandmates joined him to sing a song titled Christmas Time At Last. One of the band members is Tom Littlefield. Tom once fronted the Nashville-based pop-rock band, The Questionnaires in the 1980s. The title track to their major label EMI debut, Window To The World, was covered by Shawn Colvin (YT). Littlefield also collaborated with Tommy Womack to pen a fave of mine from There I Said It, I Couldn't Care Less (YT).

Music City Baroque followed The Boxwoods. This Nashville ensemble played two classical songs - neither of which I know the title. But hey, toolittleculture can wreck toomuchcountry so I just rolled with it. The thing that really captured my attention; however, was the oddest string instrument I've ever seen. The guy playing it said it was called a theorbo - or just a 'bass lute' if one wants to take the simple route.

This isn't the guy who played the theorbo. He was just in the way of a good picture I found of the instrument.

In the past, Dave Pomeroy has generally opened the evening following his intro comments. For this year's show, he waited until about half-way through it and sang his creation I Wish It Could Always Be Christmas. He even donned the Christmas tree hat he is wearing in his video of the song.

After only one number, Pomeroy brought out Pat Bergeson and wife Annie Sellick. Bergeson was a long-time guitarist for the legendary Chet Atkins. (I also learned he is the ex of bluegrass great Allison Krauss.) Following the death of Chet, he joined Lyle Lovett's band and performed with other greats. He and Annie performed two jazzy numbers, That's What I Want For Christmas and Christmas Memory.

The first year I attended Nashville Unlimited, Pomeroy introduced Nashville Mandolin Ensemble - another completely unknown group to me. I was prepared to hear a song or two of nasally bluegrass Christmas carols. Instead, they blew me away with their complex arrangements of worldly music. Since that first year, they have become a favorite of mine for the show. If you can put yourself back in the Christmas mood briefly, seek out their now out-of-print Christmas CD Gifts. Their four-song set consisted of:

Carol of the Bells
Dance of the Mirlitons (from The Nutcracker)
Medley of songs
O Holy Night (vid from a performance of it at Nashville's weekly Music City Roots show at the Loveless Barn)

After a quick re-arrangement of the stage, the Time Jumpers performed three numbers. There has been a buzz about town about this group as they play each Monday at The Station Inn. A somewhat 'super group' of western swing, the band has rotating band members including Vince Gill and Ranger Doug from Riders in the Sky. I have no idea of the first number they performed - though it did include some nifty guitar picking by Gill. Ranger Doug had us scratching our heads a bit with a yodeling-laced second Christmas tune. And the group closed with All Of Me. I found it interesting Gill was just part of the band. He didn't front it. He didn't step front and center. He barely acknowledged the applause following his intro and later guitar solo. He was just a band member.

The night closed with the most logistically-challenging and most unexpected group, Duffy Jackson's Big Band. Yet again - here was another group I'd never heard of despite my having lived in and around Nashville for many decades. Jackson is a highly talented jazz and big band drummer, and his gigs included a stint with the Count Basie Orchestra. Pomeroy's stage hands had to move a lot of chairs and mic stands to accommodate the 20-piece or so band. But they did so quickly, and Jackson's group tore into Winter Wonderland, White Christmas and Sleigh Ride. While Duffy looks like he may have been separated at birth from Seinfeld's Newman, he has some mean jazz drumming skills

I wanted to blog a review of the show. But I also wanted to re-state the purpose of the evening - to support Room in the Inn. Based on a great idea suggested to me by Rockstar_Aimz, I've added a sidebar graphic with a link to RITI. On their main page, one can easily find the 'contribute' link - if you'd like to join me in supporting this great and much needed organization. I'll plan to leave it available for the foreseeable future.

TMC

Six Seconds: Chasing The Groove with Daddy

2012-01-06T23:07:00.001-06:00

I started listening to Government Cheese in the late 1980s. Through the wonders of the www and e-mail, I connected with Tommy Womack from the Cheese. In turn, Tommy introduced me to the music of Todd Snider when he mentioned a gig where he agreed to play bass in Snider's band, The Nervous Wrecks. Bada-bing, bada-boom, I then started listening to Todd's music...a lot. Soon I found my way to the Todd Snider List-Serv (aka The Sh*t House Wire) where I've met a few kindred spirits sharing a common interest in similar types of music that I prefer.

Michelle, one of the lifers at The SHW, recently completed and uploaded a one-hour video documentary project she did for a degree course. In her words:

It's a discussion about communication between artists and audiences with some of the guys from Daddy (Will, Tommy and Dave - and Michael Webb, who recorded At the Women's Club.)

While Daddy may not be a household name as a band, its pedigree is solid. The full band line-up is Womack, Will Kimbrough, Dave Jacques, and Paul Griffith. Depending on travel schedules and location, Womack and Kimbrough often play together just as a Daddy duo.

Tommy's background is well established with his time in Government Cheese, his solo releases, songwriting with Jason and The Scorchers, and a one-release deal with The Bis-quits. Jacques is perhaps most recognizable as the long-time bassist for the legendary John Prine.

I first started listening to Kimbrough in the late 1980s or so when he fronted his band, Will and The Bushmen. More recently, he has released a handful of solo records. In his 'spare time', he has played with Todd Snider (and produced some of his early records), Jimmy Buffett, Rodney Crowell, and Emmylou Harris - just to name a few.

At The Women's Club was the debut release for Daddy back in 2005. They followed up with a second release in 2009 titled appropriately enough For A Second Time. I was fortunate enough to attend the in-store release performance at Grimey's for that one. (Trivia time: Did you know Mike 'Grimey' Grimes was the bassist in The Bis-Quits along with Tommy and Will?)

If you aren't familiar with Slide It In referred to in the first portion of Michelle's video, here is a full performance of it. Though a great performance in its own right, its not the same version referred to in her documentary.

Great work Michelle!

And if you are wondering about the Six Seconds of this entry's title, you've got to at least watch the portion of Michelle's doc around the 3:00 to 6:00 section.

TMC

New Year's Day 2012

2012-01-01T09:43:00.005-06:00

Happy New Year to ya!

May 2012 bring you much joy, fresh challenges, exposure to new music, renewed commitments, and plenty of cold beer.

Charlie Robison - New Year's Day

I can't let January 1 pass without mentioning the anniversary of the death of Townes Van Zandt. I've said it before and will again. His artistry and tragedy are inseparable. Townes' lyrics were profound, wonderful, challenging, deep, compelling, depressing, enlightening, and coveted. His life was complex, troubled, lived large, sacrificed, misunderstood, carefree, arguably selfish, and most of all tragically yet predictably shortened.

TMC

A TMC Christmas Compilation Vol. 1

2011-12-21T23:43:00.005-06:00

Over the last few years, I've enjoyed many music compilations offered by other bloggers. When it comes to Christmas tunes, some compilations can be very predictable with their inclusion of traditional carols. Others such as A Truer Sound have offered creative, funny and generally off-the-beaten-path Christmas songs - even when many of the songs are sung by well known performers.

With inspiration from ATS, Rockstar Aimz, the Feel Bad For You crowd, etc., I now provide my own Christmas Compilation. Not only is it my inaugural Christmas compilation, but its my first compilation since Because Whit Happens began three years ago.

Most of the tracks were sourced from live show recordings I've collected the last few years. Not all are from boots, and in the spirit of Christmas I hope I don't get Scrooged by the music po-po. All are my gift to you.

Santa Claus Is Back in Town - Jon Randall - Nashville Unlimited

Carol Of The Bells - Nashville Mandolin Ensemble - from their out-of-print release Gifts

The Grinch Song - Slaid Cleaves- recorded 2009-12-10 at The Cactus Cafe in Austin, TX

Christmas in Nashville - Bob Walkenhorst - recorded 2007-12-19 at The Record Bar in Kansas City, MO (Bob fronted The Rainmakers in the 80s and 90s and again with their 2011 reunion.)

Jingle Bells Womack Style - Elmo Buzz & The Eastside Bulldogs (better known as Todd Snider & The Nervous Wrecks - recorded 2006-12-23 at Three Crow Bar in Nashville w/Dakota Montana (aka Tommy Womack) on vox

Peace Call - Eliza Gilkyson - recorded 2004-12-10 at St. David's Episcopal Church in Austin TX

No Room at the Inn - Jeff Porter - 2007-12-19 The Record Bar

Rudolph with Cousin Eddie greeting the neighbors - National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation soundtrack

Little Drummer Boy - Chicago - recorded 1998-12-08

Relatively Speaking (I've Got The Blues) - Darrell Scott - Nashville Unlimited

Luigi The Lonely Christmas Bear - Tommy Womack- recorded 2008-12-20 at Norm's River Roadhouse in Nashville, TN

The Spirit Of Christmas - Ray Charles - National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation soundtrack

Silent Night - Bob Walkenhorst - 2007-12-19 The Record Bar

Merry Christmas to you; try new music; see live bands; and hug your folks, significant other, young'uns, and your pets.

TMC

Limping into Year 4

2011-12-20T07:43:00.004-06:00

December 20 historical events:

1803 - The Lousiana Purchase is completed.
1879 - Thomas Edison privately demonstrates the incandescent light bulb.
1945 - Original KISS drummer, Peter Criss, is born.
1957 - Elvis Presley was given his draft notice for the U.S. Army.
1996 - NeXT merges with Apple COmputer.
2008 - The Because Whit Happens blog goes live.

Really? Three years ago? Yep. And to be mentioned in same breath as those other events ... well, that's pretty lame.

After a reasonable number of posts the first couple of years, I slacked way off in year 3.

I didn't attend as many live shows.
New music? Almost non-existent for me this year.
My racing-related blog, Bench Racing, got more attention than this one.
Twitter has become my primary outlet for random thoughts. Where I once wrote several paragraphs about an opinion or happening, now I most often condense my observations into one or more 140-character tweets.

Yet, the blog is still here. And I hope I'll continue to post periodically. I'm under no illusion that many folks follow me here regularly, and that's OK. A great piece of guidance I got a few years ago was to blog things of interest to me and to blog them when and how I wanted. I've kept that advice front and center the last three years.

If you are reading this now and have read anything else I've posted the last three years, thank you.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

TMC

Feel Bad For You Pumpkin Edition

2011-10-11T22:08:00.001-05:00

This blog has become as stagnant as the American economy, as trailer park pool water, as my exercise regiment, or as Blackberry's market share.

Thank goodness someone else still blogs new stuff so I can reference it and re-post it as a new entry. A Truer Sound has again posted the monthly edition of the Feel Bad For You mixtape compilation. The October edition has an ~~all~~ ... err ... mostly instrumental theme. Phil Norman (Twitter) once again gets props for the nice artwork.

As stated in the past, the concept is rather simplistic. Several of us have formed some sort of whacked, 'X' degrees of separation kinship through blogs, Twitter, Facebook, e-mail, restraining orders, etc. We submit one song of our choosing each month. The fact many of us have common interests in music doesn't suck when it comes to compiling the submissions.

So now that the calendar has flipped to October, don your shades during the day or a light jacket at night, enjoy a pint of your favorite Oktoberfest seasonal, carve your jack-o-lantern, load up on the candy for the kiddies, and listen to FBFY here (or click here to download the compilation).

My contribution this month was Townsend, TN by Nashville's The Royal Court of China. The band had two distinctly different commercial releases - a self-titled debut and a second harder-edged release named Geared and Primed. After a multi-year hiatus, the band reunited a few years ago for a knock-down, drag-out show at Nashville's famed Exit-In at which I was elated to be present.

Townsend, TN is an actual place and is perhaps best known for being the gateway to Cade's Cove - an undeveloped, tranquil, tourist trap. Yes I used undeveloped, tranquil and tourist all in the same sentence. I've never listened to Townsend, TN while driving through Townsend, but I can visualize the song would work doing so.

RCC broke one single, Half The Truth, from their second album Geared and Primed. Having once worked for someone who lived his professional life telling about half the truth 100% of the time, I've never forgotten about this song.

Because this is the month of Halloween, here is an RCC treat for you. Remember though - no tricks in return.

TMC

Feel Bad For You Sweaty Edition

2011-08-10T07:43:00.000-05:00

A Truer Sound has posted the August edition of the monthly Feel Bad For You compilation. Phil Norman (Twitter) gets the props for the nice artwork for this month's edition.

The concept is stupidly simplistic. Several of us have formed some sort of whacked, 'X' degrees of separation kinship through blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc. (kind of like one of those distant cousins you avoid even at once-a-decade family reunions). We submit one song of our choosing each month. The fact many of us have common interests in music doesn't suck when it comes to compiling the submissions. (As an aside, Compiling The Submissions sounds like an awesome goth band name if you ask me.)

In addition to sampling each others' choices, you too are a winner. Treat the compilation like loading your plate at a weird wedding reception. Take multiple helpings of some, taste a bite of another before tactfully returning the rest to your plate, smell some and recoil in horror, etc.

So with the continuing - yet to be expected - heat and humidity, mop your brow, deodorize your pits, swig a cold brew, and listen to FBFY here (or click here to download the compilation).

My contribution this month was One More Summer by Kansas City's The Rainmakers. After a 14-year hiatus, the band reunited (less one founding member), released a CD of all new material, and toured several joints in Norway. NORWAY??? Yes - Norway - who supported the band early and often in their prime time. One More Summer is from the band's second release - Tornado - from way back in 1987. (Seriously? 1987? When 100% of my college loans were still due?) But here is a version of the song from one of the band's spring Norwegian shows.

TMC

Feel Bad For Your Heat Rash Edition

2011-07-13T21:43:00.002-05:00

A Truer Sound has again posted the compilation of Feel Bad For You - July edition. Popa2unes (Twitter) designed some hilarious artwork for this month's edition.

With much of the country enduring insufferable heat and humidity this month, perhaps these tunes will provide some soothing, ointment relief ... to your ears. Listen to it here (or click here to download the compilation).

Incredibly, 2011 is already half-way done. As a result, I submitted a song titled The Fifty Percenter by Rich Hopkins and Billy Sedlmayr. For several years, Hopkins was lead guitarist for the Tucson, AZ based band The Sidewinders. (The band later changed its name to the Sand Rubies after an unfortunate, ridiculous lawsuit over the Sidewinders name by another band.) Today, Hopkins records and plays more often with his band The Luminaros.

This video will give you a second helping of Hopkins' music - the great, title track of an album he did with The Luminaros: Dirt Town.

I'm pretty sure I forgot to blog about the May and June editions. So take a listen those compilations at the FBFY site as well.

Stay cool. Drink plenty of fluids. Stretch your mind. Enjoy different music.

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Freedom Edition

2011-07-02T08:43:00.009-05:00

July 4, 2011 - The 235th birthday of the most incredible, liberty-filled, freedom-rich nation on the earth. I'm immensely grateful to the founding fathers, the Continental Army, and the military branches of the United States for visioning it, declaring it, earning it, and defending it.

This week's City Songs Saturday focuses on some of the key cities at the flashpoint of the revolution then and at the epicenter of government today. As has been the pattern, I've included 5 songs. But to be honest, it was a bit of stretch to go with five and still cover multiple cities. Songwriters haven't exactly been forthcoming with songs about places like Lexington, Concord, Saratoga, and Valley Forge. Perhaps I could have included one about Quebec, but I've tried to focus this series on U.S. cities. So away we go...

I'm Shipping Up to Boston - Dropkick Murphys - I'll lead with this one because (1) the song is short but fun to scream and (2) I'm giving a nod to fellow blogger - the music diggin', straight shootin' Rockstar_Aimz - who currently claims Boston as home.

I'm a sailor peg / And I lost my leg
Climbing up the top sails / I lost my leg!

I need to create a "to do" to blast this song later this September on Talk Like A Pirate Day.

Brasilia Crossed With Trenton - Bob Mould - I have no idea if Mould's Trenton is meant to be about the New Jersey city. But in this case, I'm going to make it so.

I see buildings / With laundry hanging out of the window
Never in my wildest dreams would I think I'd see
Brasilia crossed with Trenton

Streets of Philadelphia - Bruce Springsteen

Philadelphia Freedom - Elton John

The Ghost of Old D.C. - J.B. Beverly & The Wayward Drifters - This one was a stretch for me. I didn't have what I believed to be a blog-worthy song title about Washington, DC. But in searching around for one, I found this band. From what I've heard of this video and other song samples, I'll be listening to them more ... a lot more.

...well, there is a patch of train tracks outside of Silver Spring
it used to be the freight line right into old DC...

Happy Independence Day folks. Never - ever - take your freedoms for granted.

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Border State Cities

2011-06-25T07:43:00.003-05:00

Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Washington, Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. That should be plenty of territory of border states to explore a few city songs. Right?

Spokane Motel Blues - Tom T. Hall

El Paso - Marty Robbins

Saginaw, Michigan - Lefty Frizell

Brownsville Girl - Bob Dylan

Helena, Montana - Terry Allen - Strong song...even if the video isn't

TMC

Thankfully Semi-Twang is not Fully Twang

2011-06-21T21:07:00.002-05:00

More than twenty years ago - seriously? can it really have been that long ago? - I picked up the debut release by a band called Semi-Twang. I don't recall exactly how I learned about Salty Tears. It was likely a review in Rolling Stone or Pulse, the Tower Records magazine.

I had already latched onto my share of twang by getting into artists and bands such as R.E.M., Blue Rodeo, Joe Ely, E.I.E.I.O., The Rainmakers, Lone Justice, The Silos, etc. No question the band's name caught my attention. If twang was involved, I was convinced it would align nicely with these other artists I'd really begun to enjoy.

It turns out the first half of their band name was the part I underestimated. The band was only kind of ... that is, semi ... twangy. But that was OK. I really enjoyed the CD - and still do to this day. I enjoyed it enough that I kept my eyes open in the store bins and in magazines for info about a follow-up release. But it never came.

Over the years, I've pulled Salty Tears off the shelf and listened to it many times over - not something I can say about everything in my collection. (Click here and scroll down about half-way to listen to a couple of band-provided tracks from their debut.) In the pre-web days though, it was weird not knowing how this talented band could end up as a one-and-done.

Then the e-mail arrived several weeks ago. I'm not sure if the publicity folks found me through this blog, tracked me down through my monthly contributions to Feel Bad For You, or what other sources they used. Either way, the news was so surprising I had to read it a couple of times. After a 23-year absence, sure 'nuff Semi-Twang was back with their second release, Wages of Sin.

As was the case 20+ years ago, my attention was snagged. One, because after a 23-year absence, I was floored to realize a second album was actually here. Two, Wages Of Sin was also a song title by The Rainmakers - so the hook was set.

You might think after a two-decade pause between recordings, a second release might move Semi-Twang to Fully-Twang. Listen to a few of their tracks, however, and I think you'll find Semi is the part they continue to embrace best. Some bluesy riffs, a nice dose of organ without going overboard, and generally a mature sound and vocals - to be expected from performers who have added a good bit of gray to their look. Yet, there is enough distortion, fuzz, and nasally tone to qualify for the twang portion. Musically, the band is very tight as a unit while still playing a bit loose for their style.

Song listing:

Sonny Liston (MP3)
Do Right - Organ starts > guitar with slight distortion > drum fade-in > 2nd guitar > vox - all seamless with great groove
The Wages of Sin (MP3)
Just A Train - conjures a bit of Little Village (John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, Ry Cooder, Jim Keltner) from ... guess what ... yep, 20 years ago
I Can't Read Your Mind - hints of Marshall Crenshaw or Elvis Costello
When the Wind Kicks Up
Its That Time Again - first of the back-to-back, most enjoyable tracks for me
Nervous Energy - has a Todd Snider'esque vibe to it for me
Your Name Was In It (MP3)
Move It Or Lose It
Doubting Thomas - Guilty as charged. Never thought I'd see another release by these guys - maybe they didn't either!
When My Angel Smiles - the longest track of the album at 4 minutes even with somewhat of a haunting-sound.

As is common with many folks, I generally learn the names of band members whose albums I listen to over the years. With Semi-Twang's single release, however, I never really took the time to learn about the individual members. I just listened to the CD, shelved the jewel case, and didn't think much more about it.

This time, though, I tried to dig around a bit more about the band. Lo and behold, Mike Hoffman who was and still is in Semi-Twang was in E.I.E.I.O. back in the day - one of the bands that helped cement my interest in twang. Tonight, I pulled their 1988 CD Land of Opportunity off the shelf, opened the liner notes, and ta-daaa there he was.

Furthermore, Hoffman has contributed recently to Florizona, the latest album by The Silos. Walter Salas-Humara has been known to change the members of the The Silos over the years about as often as I change socks. But it was cool to learn yet another connection between multiple bands I enjoy.

My suggestion? Go ahead and get both Semi-Twang so you can be fully twanged. Besides, I'm not sure any of us can wait another 20 years for release number 3.

TMC

City Songs Saturday - A States

2011-06-18T07:26:00.003-05:00

Without a logical theme coming to mind for today, I figured I'd stick with the simple. Here's a sampling of city songs from the "A" states of the good ol' USA.

Alabama: Angel From Montgomery - John Prine

Alaska: Anchorage - Michelle Shocked

Arkansas: Little Rock - Hayes Carll

Arizona: By The Time I Get to Phoenix - Glen Campbell

Arizona Bonus: Goin' Back to Tucson - Supersuckers

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Big Ten edition

2011-06-04T07:43:00.012-05:00

With all the drama surrounding [snark] The [/snark] Ohio State University, Jim Tressel, Terrelle Pryor, tats, weed, jerseys, and cars, I thought a Big Ten edition of City Songs Saturday might work.

Before anyone unleashes on me, yes I realize these cities aren't the homes of Big Ten universities. I'm just trying to get in the general vicinity of the states.

Detroit Rock City - KISS

Cleveland Rocks - The Presidents of The United States of America

Champaign, Illinois - Old 97s

What's Made Milwaukee Famous - Jerry Lee Lewis

The Dry Cleaner from Des Moines - Joni Mitchell

TMC

Memories One Year Later

2011-06-03T08:01:00.000-05:00

One year ago this morning - June 3, 2010 - I was at my parents' house. Their suitcases were packed, and we were about to leave for the airport. I'd booked seats on Southwest to fly them to Jacksonville to visit my sick uncle, my mother's youngest brother.

As we finished a cup of coffee and finished loading the trunk of the car, the phone rang. Too late. The battle was lost. He had died in the early morning hours. Flights and hotels were canceled, and the bags were unloaded. That day sucked.

Its hard to believe a year has passed. I miss conversations and visits with him immensely - even though I know his absence to me pales in comparison to what it means to my aunt and my mother.

One habit I developed the last 2 or 3 years of his life was to call him as I grilled steaks. Every few weeks, it was just a neat opportunity to talk with him from my deck for 20 minutes or as I sipped a beer and waited for medium-well.

A memories have popped back in my head in recent months. I started a draft of this entry months ago when the first one hit, and I continued to add to it with a target publish date of today. Here are a few stories that still make me smile.

In spring 1984, I needed to land a summer job between college quarters. My uncle said he could arrange a job in the accounts receivable department with his employer. Because I was an accounting major, this would be great practical experience - plus give me the chance to live in Florida for the summer. I quickly accepted and quit looking around Nashville. With about a week to go before the spring quarter ended, he called to say that because he was in sales, the company's nepotism and other control policies prevented me from working in receivables. Instead, he offered me the chance to work in the warehouse loading trucks in non-ventilated trailers. What could I do? So I went from having an air-conditioned desk job to working in trailers that seemed hotter than the seventh level of hell.

July 4, 1984. My aunt's boss was retiring, and she was about to be promoted to his position. She and my uncle scheduled a retirement party/picnic for him and a ton of co-workers at their house. I offered to help - mow the grass, man the grill, refresh ice on the beer, whatever. A day or two later, my uncle admitted he'd had two tickets to the Firecracker 400 NASCAR race in Daytona. He knew he couldn't go because of the gathering, but he didn't tell me about them because he didn't know if I'd want to go alone. It turns out it was no ordinary race as my racing hero Richard Petty won his 200th career race. Instead of my being there, the tickets went unused on his night stand.

My uncle, a long-time friend of his, a long-time friend of mine, and I went to a local beer joint in Jacksonville the night before the Daytona 500 in 1994. A table of girls had their eye on my uncle's friend and got him to dance. The others were okay from a distance - but we just kept our seats, drank our beer and continued our conversation. A few songs later, another one claimed my uncle and it was down to my buddy and me. As the two of us continued to talk, we kind of just forgot about the two of them. Let 'em have a good time. Whatever. But then suddenly, my uncle grabbed me by the neck and dragged me to the dance floor. He had recruited a midget - I'm telling you a MIDGET - to dance with me. Now I'll never be mistaken for an NBA player, but I'm hardly in the midget category. But he and his friend were doubled over in laughter while I had to figure a way to wrangle myself out of this awkward situation.

One of the neatest phone calls I ever received was in summer of 2000. I answered and heard the following challenge: "Hey, guess where I went last night." Now how am I supposed to answer that? So I immediately gave up with "I dunno. Where?" He excitedly said "the Billy Graham Crusade!" He talked a lot that night and much more in the years to follow how his faith was strengthened beginning about that time. He eventually started a men's small group Bible study class on his screened-in porch. He told me they had a great core of guys who enjoyed wrestling with scripture and drinking beer as they discussed it.

He was a huge sports nut. Lifelong Celtics fan - including sitting 2 rows behind the bench at the old Boston Garden as a 40th birthday gift to himself. Season ticket holder of USFL Jacksonville Bulls and NFL Jacksonville Jaguars for many years. Played fantasy baseball before it became the rage. He attended MLB, NFL, NBA, NASCAR, 'wrasslin', and just about everything else in professional sports - except hockey. I'm glad to say I took him to his one and only NHL game - the Tampa Bay Lightning vs. our Nashville Predators - about 5 or 6 years ago. Unfortunately, the Lightning mopped the floor with the Preds that night. But we had a great visit, shared a number of brews at the game and at a few of the lower Broadway honky-tonks after the game, and he crossed the NHL off his list of sports events to see.

TMC

City Songs Saturday - NASCAR edition

2011-05-28T07:43:00.005-05:00

Greetings from Concord, North Carolina where I'm spending the weekend enjoying the festivities of Coca-Cola 600 NASCAR weekend with friends a'plenty and Schaefer beer a'many.

The theme for today's City Songs Saturday focuses on various cities having NASCAR tracks. Click here if want to read/listen to other City Song Saturday entries.

Indianapolis - Bottle Rockets

Pocono Joe - Mark Miklos

Oh Atlanta - Little Feat

Dallas - Jimmie Dale Gilmore (performed here by Flatlanders' bud Joe Ely)

Ooh Las Vegas - Gram Parsons (covered here by Jason & The Scorchers)

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Port Cities edition

2011-05-21T07:43:00.005-05:00

Despite my settings, this blog template will not display tags. So click here if you want to see my other City Songs Saturday entries.

Galveston Bay - Bruce Springsteen

City of New Orleans - Steve Goodman

Corpus Christi Bay - Robert Earl Keen

Jacksonville Skyline - Whiskeytown

San Diego Serenade - Tom Waits

TMC

A Mother's Day Pup

2011-05-08T12:39:00.000-05:00

The first entry I posted to this blog not quite three years ago was about the loss of my dog. Its not as if his passing had just happened. He had been gone a few years - but I tried to convey how much I still missed the ol' hound.

A couple of months ago, I sent the link to a co-worker. She read it, paused and then said something to the effect of "well, that's the most depressing thing I've ever read" to which I replied "that's kinda what I was going for."

With that as background, I've been thinking about how to re-visit the subject but spin it to the positive. So let me give this a shot.

I got my pup on Mother's Day 1992. We were living in Chattanooga, TN at the time, and I went to Nashville for the weekend to visit with my folks, kiss my mother on the cheek and wheeze with red eyes as my dad filled the living room with smoke from his hand-rolled cigs. We'd hit that point of the visit where the three of us kind of just sat there in silence. My mother was likely pondering what to prepare for the next meal, my dad was gently rocking in his recliner and I was cruising through the Sunday Tennessean - including the want-ads.

Growing up, my sister had a dog. Daisy was a dachshund-beagle mix. I played with her, but she was definitely my sister's dog. Throughout junior high and high school, I took care of 'my' dogs by living vicariously through others. I took care of neighbors' dogs all around us as they took various weekend and vacation trips. Sometimes I was paid a little bit - sometimes not. But I didn't really care because I simply enjoyed time with the pooches.

When I finally got a house of my own, one of the first things I wanted was my own dog. As I flipped through the classifieds that Sunday morning, one posting jumped off the page: Labrador-golden retriever mix pups for $25. (I would've clipped the ad and kept it if I could've foreseen blogging back then.) I called the guy, he said the pups were still available, and off my brother and I went to get me a dog.

7 weeks old. 5 pounds. Slept on the front seat of my Toyota Corolla all the way back to Chattanooga.

To provide some context about size, here he is very much interested in my wife's dwarf rabbit.

Sleep was the name of the game in the beginning.

It didn't take long for that 5 pound pup to hit 35 pounds - and then 50 pounds - and then eventually around 80. As he rapidly gained weight, I'm pretty sure it was concentrated in his legs ... and his tongue. He often had the funniest facial expressions.

For a couple of years, I took him to have a Christmas picture made. The cost went towards a pet rescue organization or something like that. Like kids, it was damn near impossible to get him to look at the camera at just the right time. Fortunately, a quick treat was enough in this instance to freeze him for just the right snap. Both years, I took him and our neighbor's golden retriever. As a reward after the photo shoot, I fed them Krystal hamburgers in the parking lot as people drove by laughing.

For the first few nights we had him as a puppy, I tried to follow the advice of books I'd read. Put the puppy in a cardboard box, add some towels and a stuffed animal, and include a clock to simulate the mother's heartbeat. This will help ease any separation-anxiety the puppy may have. Baloney. Despite doing all that, Winston whined worse than my trying to beg out of my annual prostate exam.

After only a night or two, he figured out how to jump high enough to crush the edge of the box to escape.
So then he was moved to a half-bath - where he proceeded the claw the crap out of the sliver of carpet showing between the bonus room and the bathroom vinyl.
Then he got booted to the garage on a pile of towels - that he destroyed within a matter of days. Not learning a lesson from this incident, my wife reasoned he might like having one of those fluffy cushions from L.L. Bean, Eddie Bauer, or whatever it was. "Umm, really?" I asked - "How much is it?" Just $50. *sigh* It lasted 90 minutes - long enough for us to put it down, go to dinner and return to a smiling pup sitting amongst shredded poly-fill and fabric.
From there, he was incarcerated in a chain-link dog run in the backyard for overnight stays. He loved being there during the day so it only made sense he stay there at night too. Or so it seemed. After a few months, the remnants of a Gulf hurricane hit in the form of a bad thunderstorm. Winston went ape in his pen as the rain pounded and thunder boomed. I had barely cracked the gate open when he smacked it against me and made a bee-line for the garage - which is where he stayed pretty much at night for the next 5 to 6 years.
As a last resort, I built a simple wood box and filled it with cedar shavings to hedge against fleas. Who woulda guessed it? After all that trial and error, this was the fix. Not only did he enjoy it, but the neighbor's Krystal-eating golden, Jazz, enjoyed it too. She ended up spending more nights in our garage than she did at their house for the rest of the time we lived there.

As a labrador, he did a pretty nice job of learning to retrieve. He excelled, however, at keep away. After getting whatever ball I threw for him, he'd go get it. But he enjoyed baiting me into taking it from him vs. quickly bringing it back for another round. The only exception to this was if I disappeared. If I threw the ball and quickly ran inside, hid behind a car, etc., it would drive him crazy trying to find me.

But one day, my attempts to outwit a mutt nearly put me on the disabled list. See the 4x4 post in the picture below? One spring afternoon, I zinged the ball out the garage, and he took off like a shot. To play my trick, I turned to head for the door to the house. Except...I misjudged where I was, turned, and ran full-force-face-first into that post. I remember laying on the floor with his licking my face - however, I don't remember getting to the floor. No blood and no double-vision. Just dog slobber on my face. So all things considered, I was very lucky. Dog 1, TMC Zero that day.

Some of the neighbors called me Maestro after I trained many of their dogs along with mine to sit orderly, shake and await their milk bone. I was like the neighborhood milk bone crack dealer. There are only 3 dogs in this picture, but there were three others who also knew where I kept my stash - and what it cost to get one. A paw shake without teeing off on another dog as they got it.

Once Winston was booted to the pen and garage, he was an outdoor lifer. He had those rare occasions, however, when he'd get a bath and be allowed for a brief time in the house. His ability to understand was uncanny. He used his "inside voice" and always acted as if he belonged there. I'm sure it was a lobbying effort on his part to make his stay full-time.

When our son was born (who turned 16 about 10 days ago. sigh...), I let Winston in briefly to see how he'd handle things. No growling, no barking, no biting and frankly very little sniffing. Instead, he instinctively bonded by laying down and enduring whatever tugs or drooling was to come his way.

He minded his manners inside and understood his life was outdoors. But his favorite time seemed to be those rare times in Tennessee when it snowed. The deeper the snow and colder the temps - the better he liked it.

In 1993, Chattanooga got a snow for the ages - about 2 feet. A day later, the temps plummeted. What started out as a fun time for sledding and such turned into a hmm, well this could get interesting experience. We lost power for 2 days and quickly burned through what little firewood we had left. But while we tried to conserve energy, think how we'd salvage frozen food, and wonder how cold it would be while we slept, Winston ran non-stop from sun-up to sun-down. With a 24" thick white blanket, it was easy to spot his black goat galloping from one yard to another.

He was such a wonderful pet. 13 years. Lots more memories that could be shared here. Maybe I'll blog another handful in the years to come each Mother's Day weekend.

Hopefully, this entry was more uplifting than the one I wrote a few years ago. I know I smiled a lot as I scanned the various photos and thought about so many fun times.

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Plains states

2011-05-07T07:43:00.004-05:00

I want to thank each and every one of you who commented on last week's City Songs Saturday blog debut. Yes, all zero of you. Thank so much for the feedback. The message was loud and clear - 100% of no one suggested to move forward with the series, and for that I'm grateful.

How about a CSS theme shout-out this week to the Plains states - places like Kansas, Nebraska and Oklahoma.

Kansas City Star - Roger Miller

Tulsa Time - Don Williams

Wichita Lineman - Glen Campbell

Idabel Blues - Stoney LaRue

Back Home in Omaha - Todd Thibaud

TMC

Fence cleaning mold killing iPod listening talking blues

2011-04-30T21:07:00.004-05:00

Mea culpa: I started writing this entry last Tuesday, edited it a bit more Wednesday, and polished it today. As I edit/re-write it, I realize how shallow my story about cleaning a fence reads when so many folks got wiped off the map in Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, East Tennessee and other areas affected by this week's tornadoes. My deepest sympathies go to those folks and their communities as they figure out where to go from here.

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got my mower up and running for the 2011 Grass Cutting Championship Season. Its highly probable that will be my easiest 'honey do' list project of the year.

This week, I began one of the most time-consuming, brain-numbing projects. No - I'm not referring to the watching of the British royal wedding or an analysis of The One's birth certificate. The one home project I dread like no other is cleaning and sealing our cedar fence.

It takes me the better portion of 3 days to knock out just the cleaning part. Then I have to wait several days (or weeks) for it to dry fully so I can seal it. I've yet to find a simpler, more time-efficient process to get it done.

The project is not just time-consuming - its also dollar-consuming. Like a redneck at a poker machine, I throw good money after bad. Sure, I'll take yet another jug of cleanser. $16 per? Whatever. And sure, I'll take yet another 5-gallon barrel of sealer. $150 per? Hey, what's money when it comes to the protection of my natural wood fence, right?

The only time I can recall really looking forward to cleaning the fence was 10 years ago. How do I remember that far back? I had requested 'vacation' days from work and allocated them to fence duty. The dates? September 12-14, 2001. I didn't look forward to the project at all - until September 11. The project gave me three days away from the world to clean and mentally wrestle with just about every human emotion - many times over - wash, rinse, repeat.

To help balance the time and money required, I've started stretching the number of years between re-sealing. For a while, I was cleaning and sealing every other year. Since 2005, I've chosen to go three years between rounds. Its definitely cheaper this way. When that third year rolls around though, the fence really needs a good detox like Charlie Sheen after a Vegas bender.

'Best practices' suggest I shouldn't use a pressure washer to clean the wood because it'll harm the wood's grain. Even the cleaner bottle says water from a hose should be sufficient. But that approach just gets the fence wet - not clean. I blast away with the pressure washer, and our fence holds up fine. I compare my efforts to drying towels. Some of our towels we've had for 10+ years. Even though we may remove a pound of lint from the dryer trap, the towels remain as fluffy and absorbent as they ought to be. On the other hand, some of our cheap towels, well... Let's just say as many times as they've been dried with a Bounce sheet, its like trying to dry off with a sheet of waxed paper. But I digress...

Before cleaning...

CLOSE-UP! Ewww...

After cleaning...sealer yet to come.

Comparison of TMC's work on the left and our neighbors' fence on the right...

There is one thing I don't understand though. I sprayed all those mossy, mold spores with a commercial, bleach-laden, cleansing solution and allowed them to soak for about 30 minutes. Then I pounded the nastiness with a pressure washer - being careful not to make the mark of Zorro in the panels. Yet, even after poisoning the mold with chlorine bleach and who knows what other toxins AND giving it a direct shot from pressurized water, many spores still hung on to my fence boards. How do they do that? Its as if those Little Monsters had little mandibles and yelled to one another in support "Hold on boys!"

If your professional career title involves the letters 'ologist' or 'tist', perhaps you could help me better understand. I'd like to be generally informed because its pretty humbling to have your ass kicked by a mold spore.

One aspect of the cleaning sessions that made them bearable was all-day listening to my iPod. With a busy life, its rare to have an opportunity for an extended listening session. For whatever reason, I went to "S" music Tuesday. I played the following during Day 1 cleaning:

The Silos
Scott Miller & The Commonwealth
Sidewinders
Sand Rubies
Son Volt
Slaid Cleaves
The Steeldrivers

For Friday and Saturday, I stayed in the same general vicinity since S's were so rewarding.

The Rainmakers
Rich Hopkins & The Luminaros
Robert Earl Keen
Rodney Crowell
Todd Thibaud
Tom Freund
Tommy Emmanuel
The Tragically Hip
Walkenhorst & Porter
Walter Salas-Humara

As an example, playing an hour or more of Hip tracks like Little Bones definitely keeps you moving. If you can't get into this level of rock-and-roll, you might want to have friends and family look for your name at Legacy.com.

When all is said and done in a few weeks, I hope my completed triennial project will be analogous to a recently-waxed car. I hope it'll be 'shiny, shiny'...

TMC

City Songs Saturday - Tennessee edition

2011-04-30T07:43:00.006-05:00

Thought I might try this theme beginning today and on Saturdays to follow. Songs with U.S. cities in the title. With this being the inaugural post in the series and my being a native Tennessean, songs about cities in the volunteer state seemed the logical place to begin.

I'm open to suggestions. Multiple songs about a specific city? State? Region? Single artist - multiple city songs? Solo artists or bands? Comment away.

For this entry, I specifically made sure the song was available on YouTube. Clearly not all songs are represented there. So some weeks I may just have a link to the audio. Who knows - let's just see where it takes us.

East Nashville Skyline - Todd Snider

Up Memphis Blues - Tommy Womack

Midnight Train to Memphis - The Steeldrivers

Knoxville Girl - The Wilburn Brothers

Nutbush City Limits - Tina Turner

TMC

Drum tracks for songwriters

2011-04-28T22:03:00.001-05:00

Unbelievable. This year is 2 days short of being one-third DONE. Did your list of New Year's Resolutions include trying your hand at writing a song? How about going the next step of putting lyrics and guitar or keyboard chords together on tape or digital recording?

Hmm, OK. So both of those are going well. Cool. How about adding a rhythm section? Don't know any drummers? Too expensive to hire? They drink all your beer? No interest or no skills in multi-tasking yourself?

Here may be an affordable and relevant solution to try. Over the last few months, drummer Brian Doherty released two sets of drum tracks. No fake, "pleather", synthesized drums - this is the sho-nuff thing. You have to buy and download the original track(s), but from there the tracks are royalty-free to use with songs you write.

Brian was the drummer for The Silos early releases, Cuba and their self-titled RCA release (better known simply as The One With The Bird On The Cover). Later, he drummed for notable bands such as XTC, They Might Be Giants and Freedy Johnston. Here is a bit of his handiwork while jamming at home.

If interested, read Brian's blog for info about volumes 1 and 2 and how to download them.

Of course, if you write a great song, add three chords, sample in Brian's drumming, get in the van, tour every night in front of 12 people, you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you are an artist - even if you end up as that guy.

TMC

Intro to the Duct Tape Messiah

2011-04-19T23:57:00.000-05:00

I've been a fan in one way or another of Americana - alt.country - singer/songwriter - 'grunge country' - or whatever you want to call it for over 25 years. About 10 or 15 years ago, I started to notice how one songwriter after another consistently mentioned someone named Townes Van Zandt as an influence. Sometimes the reference was to a Townes song they were about to cover - or simply as an inspiration for a song they wrote. Either way, the name was often spoken almost in reverence with sometimes tear-filled eyes and a catch in their voice.

Yet I didn't get it. I listened to latter day songwriters, and I even enjoyed songwriters of days gone by such as Roger Miller. Yet, somewhere along the way I had missed Townes. About 5 years ago, I finally started listening to him myself and was stunned by what I heard and what I'd been missing.

As I started listening to Townes and learning more about him, the name Blaze Foley popped up often. I still don't know much about Blaze, and I'm not sure many folks do (at least the truth about him). But I do know he was a running partner of Townes and a damn good songwriter in his own right.

Blaze lived a paradoxical life - the simple life of a homeless vagabond yet with as many complicated tangles as a bowl of spaghetti. Songwriter, performer, committed, aloof, here, there, yonder, lover, abandoner, irritant, compassionate.

He was murdered in 1989 by being on the wrong end of a .22 caliber rifle. At the time of his death, he was more than a half-decade younger than I am today.

Lucinda Williams penned her song Drunken Angel for Blaze. Also, a few years after his death, Townes released a song in tribute to his friend titled Blaze's Blue. Sadly, a couple of years after its release, Townes too was dead.

For the better part of the last 10 years or so, an electrical engineer turned filmmaker, Kevin Tripplett, has worked on a documentary about Blaze. The movie is about ready for release and is titled Blaze Foley: Duct Tape Messiah. Saturday night, a condensed version of the movie was screened at Nashville's Douglas Corner Cafe. About 40 to 50 people came out to see it. To the rest of Nashville? Your loss folks.

Following the screening, singer-songwriter-instrumentalist-producer Gurf Morlix played a significant number of tracks from his recent tribute release Blaze Foley's 113th Wet Dream. Morlix is more than just a fan of Foley's. He often accompanied him at his shows by playing guitar.

Right before the movie began, Sybil Rosen was introduced and asked to come to the stage. To say she knew Blaze in an understatement. She was Blaze's true love...for a while. Her time with him is documented in her book titled Living in the Woods in a Tree: Remembering Blaze Foley. She read a couple of passages from her book before the movie began.

After Sybil finished and sat, Kevin Tripplett quickly raised a movie screen and turned on a projector. With that, the documentary Blaze Foley: Duct Tape Messiah began.

The trailer...

The opening...

I'll try not to ruin the enjoyment of others in watching it by giving away a bunch of spoilers here. But I think I can note a few things without ruining the overall movie.

Blaze admired the songwriting of John Prine; however, his running buddy and real songwriting inspiration was Townes. Based on some video footage included in the movie, when Blaze and Townes were together, Blaze's antics could make Townes look like the 'straight guy'. And that had to have been a tall task.

As great as the Austin songwriting and performer scene is now, the early 80s had folks such as Joe Ely, Billy Joe Shaver, Townes and Blaze amongst its songwriting residents. Amazing.

The movie aired for around an hour. Before Gurf Morlix took the stage to sing, Tripplett offered to answer a couple of questions and stayed around the rest of the night to answer additional ones. I approached him after Morlix's performance and commented about the length of the movie. With so many years of preparation and the various interviews and research he did, it seemed the movie would last longer. He told me the 1-hour condensed version was shown to couple with Gurf's set. The idea was to hold the audience's attention with a healthy dose of both. The final cut will likely include another half-hour or so according to Tripplett.

He also told me that while he never met Blaze, he feels like he knows him through stories told to him my relatives who had met Blaze and through the research and interviews done for the documentary.

Gurf arrived on stage with no introduction or fanfare. I was actually in the middle of checking Twitter when suddenly I realized he had just walked on stage, said a couple of introductory comments, and began.

Set List:

Big Cheeseburgers and Good French Fries
Clay Pigeons (Gurf noted this song has been covered by Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard and Lyle Lovett. He also noted John Prine covered it on his Fair and Square release.)
If I Could Only Fly

Story about meeting Blaze in 1976, watching him perform in an NYC disco and becoming friends with him. He joked that Blaze was homeless and Gurf had a home. So Blaze had an immediate friendship connection to Gurf.
Story about Blaze hitchhiking. Gurf told a story that Blaze was hitchhiking and no one in a long stream of traffic would stop for him. Finally, the traffic backed up, and a woman found herself stopped next to him. She reached over to the passenger side of the car, and Blaze thought she was going to let him in. Instead, he pushed down the door lock. As a tribute the woman, he recorded...

Wouldn't That Be Nice?

Story of Gurf's parents meeting Blaze for first time. He had cautioned them that a large, drunk, smelly, bearded, homeless singer slept on his couch. His parents arrived at Gurf's place before Blaze rolled in from an all-night bender. As he introduced his parents to Blaze, Gurf's mother supposedly said "Wait. Did we just see you hitchhking earlier this morning?" Gurf said he wondered sometimes if perhaps... his mother... door lock... song.... naahhhh.

Ooh Love
Oh Darlin'
For Anything Less
Baby Can I Crawl Back to You?
Picture Cards

Gurf said he wrestled a bit with the title for his tribute album. He didn't want a primary title and a secondary, smaller, obscured "tribute to the works of Blaze Foley" or something like that. Finally, he realized the title he needed had already been written. Blaze titled one of his songs Blaze Foley's 113th Wet Dream. Gurf realized he simply needed to roll with that one for his release.

Blaze Foley's 113th Wet Dream

Gurf neared the end of his set by mocking other performers and bands who close a show, step to the shadows, leave on the stage lights, wait for a bit of audience applause, and the return with fake humility to perform an encore. Douglas Corner has a relatively small stage and not much of a place to get in the shadows. He dead-panned "I could go outside to the street and just back in. Or I can just stay here, pretend you applauded for me to return, and just play my last song." After the laughter settled, he closed with what he said was his favorite Blaze song.

Cold Cold World

As the movie continues to be screened around the country, get out to see it if possible. If nothing else, look for its full release in late May according to Tripplett.

Meanwhile, head over to YouTube and get lost in the various Blaze performances and covers uploaded there.

TMC

Lawnmower repair

2011-04-16T19:31:00.000-05:00

About six weeks ago, I told toomuchtexting it was time. That time of the spring season when the first yard cutting was needed. I told him to get started on the front yard as I started some spring cleaning of the garage.

He primed the mower a couple of times and pulled the starter cord 2 or 3 times. Nothing. I watched him give it three or four efforts and thought it best to let him work through the first starting since last December. But he couldn't get it cranked. Finally, I bailed him out. I primed the bulb seven or eight times and then proceeded to pull the cord...a lot. Between the two of us, we simply couldn't get the thing to start.

I was a little bit bent because I'd taken the mower to a shop for repair last fall. They told me it was a gummed-up fuel system resulting from all the additives in today's ethanol-tainted gasoline. They hit me up for about $35, and it lasted me through the rest of the fall's cuttings.

So I wasn't happy the mower wouldn't start less than four months and no more than a half-dozen cuttings since it was last repaired. Bottom line though - it wouldn't start. I took it to a different repair place where they told me they'd likely be able to squeeze in the repair amongst all their riding mower jobs.

My definition of "squeeze in the repair" and theirs differed significantly. THREE weeks later, I got a call from the shop. It started awkwardly with my answering the phone to hear Randall on the other end. Because of his mechanic-ese diction, I have chosen instead to refer to him as Goober. The conversation went something like this.

TMC: Hello?
Goober: Dissis Randall
TMC: Wait. What? You must have the wrong number.

Goober: Dissis Randall. Jee leave a lahnmowah here?
TMC: Oh...yeah...lawnmower. OK, now I gotcha. I was beginning to wonder...

Goober: Yer coal's rurnt.
TMC: What?

Goober: Yer coal. Its rurnt. Yain't got no far.
TMC: Huh? Oh! My coil!

Goober: Yain't got no far.
TMC (now in a Goober Groove): Its not firing. Correct. That's right. That's the reason I brought it in to have y'all look at it. But I thought it was supposed to be a gummed-up fuel line.

Goober: Naw, thats good. Butcher coal ain't no count. Yain't got ...
TMC: ...no fire. Got it. So how much to fix it?

Goober: About a hunnerd. Sebbenty for da pahrt. Thirty to put it on.
TMC: Uh no. That mower isn't worth much more than that. I'll put a 'hunnerd' towards a new one.
Goober: Suit yerself. It'll be right chere. Come git it.

I had a Murray push mower for about 14 years. This Toro mower - that cost me twice what the Murray did - is only 5 or 6 years old. Yet, I was convinced I was now going to buy a new mower. But as I described my phone conversation with Goober to Ozzy Nelson, he started Googling 'mower coil'. Sure enough, we found the part on-line, and it didn't look like the effort to replace it would be that bad.

I visited site to site. Consistently, the part ran $25-30 plus S&H. Everywhere I searched, the part was significantly under Goober's sebbenty estimate - those crooks. On a what-the-hell search, I jumped to Amazon. There it was - $32 with free super saver shipping.

This morning, I launched ehow.com, double-checked what I was supposed to do, made the switch in about 15 minutes, and was ready to give it the start test.

However, I had no spark plug. In checking my coal, I reckon Ol' Goob done left out that thar spark plug. Ugh. So to the big box hardware store I went. With today's fuel prices, I likely burned $6 in gas to buy a $2 plug.

I installed the plug, fastened the plug wire, primed the bulb, yanked once and - voilà - it roared to life once again.

OK toomuchtexting - you are back in business. Wait. He's out of town this weekend. Crap. Oh well, considering I spent about $35 vs. $100 (or far more), mowing was a bit of a pleasure today.

TMC

Rush's Return to Music City

2011-04-07T23:27:00.002-05:00

Six months ago, I was beyond excited. After about a quarter-century, I saw Rush for the second time in my life. Some buds and I went to the Atlanta show, and I figured I'd pretty much book-ended my youth and middle-age with two memorable Rush shows.

Then last December - less than 90 days after the Atlanta show - came the announcement. About seven years since their last gig here, Rush was returning to Nashville. Despite having just seen them, I said "sign me up".

The Atlanta trip was memorable in many ways. However, consumption of copious amounts of Sweetwater IPA and other brands made certain aspects of the trip...um...uh...well, kind of un-memorable (absence-of-memorable? fuzzy-memorable?). For the Nashville show, my buddy and I decided on a different approach. He bought a ticket for his 10 year-old daughter (this was to be her 3rd Rush show - that's just crazy on many levels). And I easily recruited my guitar playing turned percussionist 15 year-old son (nickname: toomuchtexting).

For a pre-show meal and enjoyment of (limited) libations, we opted for The Dog of Nashville.

Despite having been on record as planning to order The Barnyard, I called an audible at the line and went with The Fiery Redneck. toomuchtexting stretched his comfort zone and had no problems ordering and consuming the Y'all Dog.

By the time you order your dog plus a side of fantastic rings or tots, this gastronomic disaster can total up to an economic disaster considering the fractional healthiness:caloric intake ratio. But hey, it was Sunday. Guess what - 2 for 1 cold beer! Suddenly, the price of a hot dog dinner mattered not so much.

In Atlanta, we stretched our pre-show meal a bit too long and really underestimated traffic and parking conundrums. As a result, we missed the opening two songs. My bud and I were committed not to make the same mistake twice, and we decided to get to the arena about an hour early just to soak in the atmosphere.

Of course, the brutal reality can be summarized this way:

Get there early for what? Its not Southwest Airlines. Its a concert - we have a ticket for a specific seat.
There was no opener. Even if there had been, who were we gonna miss? Billy Squire's Stroke Me reunion tour?
Women watching? Please. Its a Rush show.

My interest in attending large-scale concerts has waned dramatically the last 15 years or so. I'm generally just not interested in paying big bucks for a show and even less inclined to stand in line at the merch table for a t-shirt who price is analogous to the cost of a Starbucks latte. However...this was no ordinary band or show. I was disciplined enough in Atlanta not to succumb to the ridiculous prices. With TMT in tow, we indeed stood in line and I dropped what seemed to be my mortgage payment for two t-shirts.

I took my camera hoping our seats would be reasonably close enough to get some decent point-and-shoot photos. What I failed to do, however, was charge the battery before I went to the show. I'd been on a trip to North Carolina two weeks earlier and had taken close to 200 photos. The flashing battery symbol was an in-your-face reminder of how I never re-charged the thing since my trip.

...red alert, red alert...

The boys in the band aren't a chatty bunch. An initial, knee jerk impression one could make is the band is just going through the motions with a corporate, perfunctory, get-it-over-with show. But that impression would be wrong. At this stage of their career (these guys are nearing 60 for crying out loud!), I think their giving folks a full show for the value of their ticket price is the best, professional, fan-friendly thing to do. After all, how many "How ya doin' Nashville!!" shout-outs does one need?

That's not to say Geddy didn't have a few things to say to the audience. Before playing their new song BU2B, Geddy acknowledged the band's "Nashville connection" with the song having been recorded here.

Geddy's voice was far stronger and on-the-mark at this show than it was last fall in Atlanta. Perhaps this was simply the result of Nashville being the 3rd show of this tour leg after a few weeks away from the road. Last fall's Atlanta show was the 3rd from the end of the U.S. tour. (Rush fans know too the band has an affinity for the number 3. Note I sat in seat 3 of our aisle. And I had 3 pre-show brews. And this was my 3rd time to see the band. And I never really liked #3 Dale Earnhardt. And...OK, I'll stop.)

After Geddy sang this couplet in Marathon...

More than just the bottom line
Or a lucky shot in the dark

.... a pyro concussive BOOMED through the arena! We had a big fella lumbering up the riser steps on our aisle headed for concessions, the bathroom or a smoke break. When that cannon shot ripped, he suddenly dropped and turtled like Sean Avery in a hockey fight. I half-expected him to scream "I've been hit!"

Listen for the pod burst between 15-20 seconds:

I was critical of camera angles and lighting at the Atlanta amphitheater show, but both were corrected for the 2011 arena shows. The production team delivered some unbelievably tight shots on frets, strumming, picking, thumping, etc. by Geddy and Alex. The shots of Neil from front, side and overhead were fantastic. We got a great view of his foot work on his high hat, double-bass pedals, cowbell, cross-over stick work, etc.

The camera also accurately captured what I believe to be Neil's paradox. His drumming looks so effortless - even though it isn't. He has few, if any, equals behind the drum kit, and its because of the ridiculous hard work and passion he puts into it. Yet, he visually looks a bit bored or disengaged based on his absence of facial expressions. That's nothing new - he's been that way for ages. But I guess it was more apparent to me because of the limited times I've been able to see the band's show.

The day before the show, my daughter and I did a bit of spring-cleaning to our garage. One of the items I reluctantly tossed was a Pioneer AM/FM/cassette boom box. I bought it in high school...high school...many, many years ago. I worked at Kmart, put the thing on lay-away and used part of my first few paychecks to buy it.

The last decade or so, it just collected dust in the garage. As a pack rat though, I couldn't bring myself to throw it away - until Saturday when I finally did. When the band played Subdivisions Sunday, a memory to the boom box connected. For some reason, I distinctly remember listening to Rush's Signals cassette tape on it. (When we got home from the concert, I dug it out of the trash can long enough to take the above picture.)

After the first set of a mixed bag of Rush hits, the band took about a 20 minute break of so and returned to play through its most-popular album, Moving Pictures.

My son seemed to enjoy the show. However, being a novice listener, he didn't recognize many of the songs from the front segment of the setlist. Nor has he really digested Peart's complicated lyrics. But he was on his feet, clapping and laughing as the familiar riff of Tom Sawyer began. A funny, video vignette played of a time machine gone wrong. As the band played, a video played behind them of three chimps playing along to it. And after all, is there really anything funnier than a drum-playing monkey?

As has been well documented, there's never such a thing as too much cowbell. Peart didn't disappoint as he played his cowbell during Witch Hunt - with his foot pedal! For a moment, I thought it was a recorded drop-in track, but I spotted his foot work after looking more closely.

At some point in the show, I zoned out a bit from what was happening on stage and just soaked in observations of what was going on around me with the stereotypical Rush crowd of middle-aged white males. Conclusion: It never gets old to laugh at aging, balding, paunchy, white guys' attempts at "air drumming" where they are convinced every drum lick is to a cymbal crash.

Also, it was a bit painful to hear some guys around me attempt a sing-along with Geddy. The mouthing of the lyrics themselves always brings a solid laugh because several guys in the audience sang as if they were a mash-up of David Coverdale and Joe Dirt. The other painful aspect was hearing some of them challenge the same octave ranges as Geddy. Guys, the professional is nearing 60, and he's challenged to hit many of the high notes night after night. You simply aren't going to hit them on a regular basis. I began to wonder if some of them had asked a buddy to crush their cojones Johnny Knoxville style-before entering the venue just to take their mock-vocals above the (music) staff.

Another fave of my son that he hoped would be played was Closer To The Heart - an arena anthem if there ever was one. I already knew the set list, but I didn't tell him anything about it other than the entirety of Moving Pictures being played. We listened to part of A Farewell To Kings on the way to the arena, and he again said he really wanted to hear CTTH. He really enjoys Alex Lifeson's opening guitar work.

Needless to say, he was on his feet and hollering as Alex transitioned from acoustic solo to the opening strains of CTTH.

The second set closed with Far Cry from Snakes And Arrows. Its not a bad song, but its not a closer in my opinion. Geddy didn't set it up, they played it and then he yelled "Good Night!" as Neil rose from behind his drum kit. Just really awkward. But knowing the encore was yet to come, I didn't let that small oddity derail the evening. But its still weird and should probably be dropped. I'm just saying...

The encore selection was already known. Yet all roared when Working Man was played - reggae version and all. My pulse quickened as the song ended with a transition to Cygnus X1. Ohhh, PSYCH. It was just an opening riff tease - apparently one they'd used in past tours.

A great evening. Three hours of continuous music. I'll soon return to my primary musical interests of singer-songwriter, Americana, alt-country, whatever you call it, type stuff. But the memories of another show by the Canadian trio will definitely stick with me for a while. And I'm pretty sure my son will remember it even longer.

TMC

Feel Bad For You - Peeps Edition

2011-04-06T20:32:00.015-05:00

A Truer Sound has completed the compilation of Feel Bad For You - April edition. Rockstar Aimz once again showed her mad graphics skills with the compilation's artwork.

With Easter occurring in April this year, I thought a Let's Active made sense as my submission. You know, the jangle-rock band of the mid 80s? Led by Mitch Easter? Who produced Murmur by R.E.M.? Oh c'mon, please tell me you remember.

Listen here (especially to the track by Vulture Whale. Wash, rinse, repeat.)

And download it here.

I especially enjoyed the track by Vulture Whale - a band I hadn't heard of until now.

The compilation also includes Don't It Make You Wanna Dance by Rusty Weir. If you are a Todd Snider fan, you may remember this song being threaded through this hilarious story about Todd being in the right place at the right time in show business.

Oh yeah, I don't think I blogged the link to the March edition. You can grab last month's compilation at the FBFY site as well.

TMC

28 Days

2011-03-31T19:54:00.010-05:00

Before you even think it, no. This entry will not be a confessional about rehab. I'm no Erik Ainge or Charlie Sheen.

28 more days. Unbelievable. April 28, 1995 - my first young 'un was born. Sixteen years ago ... less 28 days. One of the milestone birthdays of life. I'm toomuchcountry, and I've nicknamed him toomuchtexting.

7 lbs, 11 oz. 21 inches long...16 years ago less 28 days.

The last 16 years are a bit of a blur as I look back on them. And I have no friggin clue what lays before me.

What I do know is that he will turn 16 in 28 days. Suddenly, I've aged to within four weeks of some questions that I've never really asked before:

What kind of birthday soiree do you have for a sixteen year-old boy? I'm guessing its a big deal to turn 16 as a girl (cue Molly Ringwald/John Hughes movie). But for a son? I have zero memories of turning 16 myself. A big dinner with a bunch of friend? Just a normal dinner with family? Gifts? Or just a shoulder chuck with 'have a great day pal - and clean up your room when you get home'? 28 days...
Is it that big a deal to get your driver's license on the day? Apparently, the answer is a resounding YES. I got my license during my 17th year (post 16th birthday); however, my mother and I were not in line on the day. But he has his mind set that is the one thing he really wants to get. 28 days...
Am I prepared for how my insurance rates are going to skyrocket when he does get his license? My answer contrasts the previous bullet: a resounding NO. 28 days...
When will he start digging girls - at least enough to make it known to us? I'm not stupid...at least not that stupid. He is 'friends' with several PYTs, but he hasn't dated or really even asked about it. For the most part, he is still just a geeky, teen boy. 28 days...
How in the world will the two of us who brought him into this world avoid taking each other out of it over the idea of a car? My wife is scared to death to ride with him. He does fine - its just excessive nervousness on her part. On the other hand, I've got 40-50 hours of passenger time with him behind the wheel, and I think he has done remarkably well. Yet, she is the one who wants to give him a car for his birthday to drive solo whereas I'm the one saying "now wait just a damn minute". 28 days...
Assuming we agree to get him a car (meaning she'll say "we're getting one whether you like it or not"), what shall we get? My vote: a high-mileage, reasonably maintained, 4-door, inexpensive car. Comfortably less than $5,000. Statistics say as a male teen he'll wad the thing up before he moves out from under my roof. I'm viewing any purchase as analogous to buying a blister pack, commodity item near a Wal-Mart register. Use it up, throw it away and start over should the actuaries' prediction prevail. Her suggestion: The precious boy needs a low-mileage, don't-leak-oil-on-my-driveway, current model so he can carefully drive it the next 6 or 8 years. Oh, and it needs to be a bit stylish too. And its gotta be a Toyota, Honda or Nissan because Consumer Reports says those are the best types of used cars. Huh? The kid's whole live is pretty much based on a 10-mile radius from his mattress. If he breaks down somewhere, he could walk home before a tow truck arrives or hypothermia sets in. He isn't a middle-aged, father-of-two who is under employed, struggling with the mortgage and high gas prices and needs a deeply discounted sedan to roundtrip a 30-mile commute from the 'burbs five days a week for the next decade. But I digress. 28 days...
Have I come to grips that in a bit over 2 years from now he'll pretty much be gone? College, work, somewhere (hopefully not the pokey). Kinda. Even though I don't remember turning 16 during my sophomore year, I do remember turning 18 my senior year. I knew I just had to graduate that spring, work the summer and then move away to college. I love my folks, but I was ready to get gone. So if that's the mindset he's got too, I'm good with it. As a matter of fact, I'll probably struggle more if he does NOT leave. So help me if I have to change his nickname to 'toomuchleeching'. 28 days...

When he was born, I had no clue what to do. He peed, crapped, ate, puked, slept and drooled. From around age three until nine, he thought I had hung the moon. And I adored all the time we spent together. Years 10 to 15 were a bit weird - we didn't talk as much even though we spent time together. Now as he approaches 16, I'm trying to learn how to treat him more as a young man while still trying making him realize I'll bust him down to buck-private at the drop of a hat if circumstances dictate.

28 days.

TMC

Tiling Tunes

2011-03-13T22:14:00.001-05:00

With apologies to Government Cheese and their song Fish Stick Day...

Friday's here
We're excited, we're delighted
Its Grout Tile Day, Grout Tile Day
I can't wait for Grout Tile Day
Run, run, run for the Home Depot. Yay!
Grout Tile Day, Grout Tile Day
G-R-O-U-T-T-I-L-E
Grout Tile Day

An understanding has evolved between my wife and me over the last few years. I make arrangements to go to a couple of NASCAR races annually as frugally as possible. Score free tickets, crash on a friend's couch where possible, ride with someone else to split gas costs, drink cheap beer, etc. In return she gets to buy some expensive purse or urn, or she sets me up with a big home improvement project. Sounds like a fair trade, right? Well it isn't, but that's the price to pay for me to have some fun nonetheless.

Friday, I finally got around to starting a project for one of my 2010 trips. I installed ceramic tile above the shower in our bathroom. In terms of mega-tile, "This Old House"-type jobs, this one ranks pretty low. Still, I wondered if I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

I've installed tile once before - about 10 years ago at our previous house. I wasn't exactly sure what I was doing then, and I'm not sure I was a whole lot better prepared this time. I'll do lawn care, change light bulbs, paint some here and there, and am competent at rudimentary handiwork. But tiling is for keeps. Once you apply a section of thin set and install your first tile, there really isn't any turning back.

But by cracky, I was gonna knock out this job for a few reasons.

I believed I could do it. My previous tiling experience, getting do-it-yourself tips on the web, discussing the project with big box hardware store employees and exchanging ideas (and tools) with co-worker/slum lord/fellow blogger and tweeter Ozzy Nelson convinced me so.
My wife expected it. I went to my race in 2010, had an...ahem...uh...large time, was gone for 4 days and returned pretty wrung out. This project was partly to enhance the bathroom and partly my come-uppance for having such a good time with my buds.
I'm too cheap. Even if I could have bought my way out of the project by hiring someone, I really didn't want to fork over the cash to have someone do a professional version of what this amateur hack could do adequately.

Friday: 90% of tile installed. Cuts of corner pieces await

The one thing an all-day (which morphed into a multi-day) project like this allowed me to do was queue up the iPod through external speakers. As I spread thin-set, back-buttered square tiles and cussed as my corner spacers kept falling out, I enjoyed several playlists leftover from events of the past. From there, I moved on to a few specific artists and bands.

When Friday was over, it dawned on me I could have built my own playlist before the project. Based on what I listened to during the project, I may compile Tiling Tunes for that next big project. (I have three races on deck for 2011, so I know big projects are headed my way.)

Here's some tunes that seem to make sense to add to my playlist.

Time To Start - Blue Man Group

Ain't Skeert - The Anomoanon (stream it here)

100% Pure Fool - The Derailers

If I Were A Carpenter - Allison Krauss & Dwight Yoakum

What Was I Thinking - Dierks Bentley

Courage - The Tragically Hip

Width of a Line - The Rainmakers

Go Faster - Black Crowes

If I Had $1,000,000 - Barenaked Ladies

Saturday: All tile installed. Grout, de-hazing, caulk and sealing yet to go.

Hard on Equipment - Corb Lund & The Hurtin Albertans

Far From Perfect > Mr. Dependability - A Duane Jarvis double

Small Miracles - Blue Rodeo

Maybe I Can Paint Over That - Guy Clark

Going The Distance - Cake

I'm pretty proud of myself. Waste of tile was kept to a minimum. Sharp tools or tile weren't dropped that could have gouged the floor, shower or bathtub. I didn't cuss too much - at least not loudly enough for the rest of the family to hear. And none of our cats ended up with a dollop of grout in their fur.

Sunday: Grouted baby!

All in all, a successful project gets logged in the book. Tiling Tunes certainly played a key role in keying me on point.

TMC

CD Review: 4 on the Floor

2011-03-09T23:33:00.001-06:00

2010 was a bit of an anomaly for me. Through a variety of sources, I usually glom onto about a half-dozen or more new singers or bands each year (at least new to me). Last year seemed to be one of just enjoying the comforts of those I already liked.

One band has already got my attention in 2011: 4 On The Floor from Minneapolis, MN. Admittedly, some of their hooks included:

One of my favorite breakfast meals: The Twos at Mickey's Dining Car in neighboring St. Paul, MN.
Delighted Minneapolis is delivering more music in line with my interests vs. Prince
The band's name: 4 On The Floor
The title of their new release: 4 x 4
The vinyl release date: April 4
The time signature in all their songs: 4/4
My current vehicle: a Dodge Dakota 4x4.
All 4 band members tap their toes to ... individual bass drums.
I marched bass drum my sophomore year in high school.
My son marched bass drum his sophomore year last fall.

So right out of the gate, this band seems to have more gimmicks than a Carrot Top Vegas act, right? First thing I pondered when I heard of this band where everyone plays bass drum is "hmm, I wonder if they'll be like Big Pig." About 20 years ago, I picked up a cassette of this short-lived Australian band. Each band members played percussion, and a vocalist was added. Think industrial, prog, Bauhaus/Peter Murphy, etc. No guitars. Unusual but great recording.

As it turns out, Big Pig is nothing like 4 On The Floor. This band is very ...um... uh... 'garage' oriented - and I mean that in a good way. There's more to them than perhaps I originally thought might be there. A constant 4/4 bass drum beat, slide guitar, rough vocals and an ample supply of single and double chord songs fills the bill pretty well for this debut LP.

A few thoughts about some of the songs...

Exile - A bit of an odd start to the CD. A slow, monotone-lyrical dirge with opening chants and the soon-to-join constant bass drum thump. But hold on, because the opener tees up the 2nd cut nicely.

Lionhearted - After wondering about the opener, the singing of Lionhearted suddenly hit me right in the mouth. I first played this cut during my morning commute, and it cost me a few extra cents in fuel as I accelerated 10 MPH. Singer, Gabe Douglas, sings like he starts his day by gargling shredded razor blades soaked in a cup of yesterday's cold coffee ... again, I mean that in a good way. I struggled for a listen or two to put my finger on his sound. About the best way I can visualize it is a deeper-voiced Patterson Hood from Drive By Truckers fronting a metal band. I'll say this though - a couple of lines in the song kick-started my motivation for the day.

You better get your legs beneath you,
you better *LION* find those feet below you

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Workin' Man Zombie - ZZ Top's Tres Hombres era came to mind as the opening riff of this one began.

First on a List of Things I Don't Need - best song title of the album - This song opens with the repeated strumming of a single chord. One. For 20 seconds - which began to seem like a liftime. As soon as the lyrics began, I had a good laugh. Whether an unintentional or deliberate effort, the lyrics were the antithesis of the guitar lead-in:

Change, who needs it
It just jingle jangles in my pocket
Do not change - not for me.
So afraid of different scenery

Don't bring change to my table
It'll just get lost in the mix
Do not change, I'm not able
So don't call me a hypocrite

On Tuesdays - The single most inspiring, uplifting tune of the whole bunch. [/endsarcasm]

I'm drunk on Tuesdays
I didn't make it halfway through the week
I'm drunk on Tuesdays
And some days I can barely speak

Bricklayer

Cashillac - My first reaction to hearing the first few bars of this song was to think a Johnny Cash trib may be in play. This was before scanning the packaging for song titles. I have to believe its more than a coincidence that the song's influence and vibe matches its title.

For Pa / For Ma - Bands often bury their weakest song as the final track. I frequently found this to be an issue back in the days of vinyl. I supposed producers rolled the dice that listeners may not always listen to all of the B side. In a digital age, however, with track shuffling and iTunes purchases, bands have to bring it. In the case of For Pa / For Ma, the band closes with one of the stronger tracks of their album - musically and vocally. My only complaint? The song includes some banjo, but its almost too distant. It would have been nice to see it raised in the mix.

Despite the gimmick of all four players thumping a bass drum, the sound isn't overpowering on the CD. Its there on every track, but I can deal with it. Admittedly, I haven't ripped the CD to my iPod yet to listen with ear buds as I'm mowing the grass. I suppose I could end up munching a fistful of Advil if I did so. But its otherwise been an enjoyable CD so far.

Would I like to see the band live? Based on a few YouTube videos I've seen, I think it would be a fun show. It would be interesting to hear how tight the four of them could be or what ad-libs might be pulled with the drums.

Because the band originally caught my attention with some novelty about their name, album, and release date, I guess its only appropriate if I offer suggestions for future releases to catch the eye of others.

For their next release, maybe they could add another guitarist, release it on May 5th, live in a camper as they tour and name it 5th Wheel.
For their third album, they could add a second drummer a la .38 Special or The Allman Brothers, release it on June 6th, upgrade their camper-towing vehicle to a Ram 3500 diesel pick-up and title it Dually.

TMC

Government Cheese at The Rutledge

2011-03-02T13:35:00.003-06:00

In June 1987, I began my first professional career in Chattanooga, TN and immediately built some new friendships - a few that still exist to this day. In June 1988, a young lady began at the same office, quickly hit my radar and later lowered herself to marry me. From mid-1987 and into 1989ish, my friends, my girlfriend and I spent many Friday nights listening to cover bands and drinking beer at a long-since-gone joint called Yesterdays.

In 1988, Michelangelo's Pizza opened near Yesterdays. It was a good lunch place for us during work hours, but that was about it. Until. The manager started booking bands - regional, touring bands with original music. We loved the vibe of Yesterdays, but I really started getting into Michelangelo's as they booked such bands as The Connells, Stealin Horses, Royal Court of China and ...

The band then ...

My girlfriend / later wife and I have never really seen eye-to-eye (or heard ear-to-ear as the case may be) on the same type of music. As a general rule, I'm a below-the-radar, not-on-radio music fan. She's always been about the top 40 pop crap and can listen to the same drivel over and over and over and over and over. But she even liked Cheese cuts such as Fish Stick Day, Mammaw Drives the Bus and Yellow Cling Peaches.

A former roommate of mine, she and I saw the band a second time in Nashville. The band opened for Guadalcanal Diary at The Cannery Ballroom. Its one of the most ironically-named music venues in the city as its just a big ol' warehouse room with columns in it. But that night, I remember the place was PACKED. The columns were our oasis. If a bit of breathing room was needed, you just shuffled over to a column because each one seemingly had its own personal buffer zone that folks respected.

The third and final time I saw them (until last Saturday) was at a Chattanooga pool hall called Shooters. (The place ran a very dumb ad: Come see your favorite sporting events on the area's largest 10' TV screen.) I don't remember a lot about the show except they had the band on a platform stage a good bit above the main floor level. It gave singer Scott Willis all the room he needed to leap from the stage with his microphone and sing amongst the crowd below before climbing back up to re-join his band.

Then they were gone - or maybe I was. The band lasted another half-dozen years I think, but I didn't get the fourth opportunity to see them. In recent years, however, the internet played out a wonderful scenario. I Googled the band, found lyricist-singer-guitarist Tommy Womack, cold-emailed him, revisited some of my memories from those shows, and closed with something lame to the effect of "well, thanks for reading".

To my surprise, he replied within a day, said he remembered those shows and thanked me for contacting him. That led me to purchase all of his CDs and see him perform live probably about a dozen times and counting. I also credit him for introducing me to the music of Todd Snider about 7 or 8 years ago. He was headed somewhere to play bass in a band to back Todd. I had no idea at the time who Todd was but figured I'd give his music a shot. A pretty good tip TW.

About 20 years later, I got the opportunity to see the Cheese a fourth time. Late last year, Womack released a 2-CD anthology of Cheese music - songs from their four commercial releases, alternate recorded versions and live tracks from a show in Kentucky in the early '90s. In support of the CD, the band reunited for a ~~World~~... err... ~~Nationwide~~... umm... I-65 Tour consisting of... well... just two dates. One for each of the CDs I suppose. The first gig was in Bowling Green, KY, and the second and final one was last Saturday night at The Rutledge in Nashville.

I intended to take good show notes for this entry. I took a pre-printed "set list" of Cheese songs in alphabetical order and planned to number them as the night progressed. Apparently, however, the pen fell out of my pocket on the way from my truck to the front door. Feeling it was a sign to ease-up, I simply did my best to remember what happened and just enjoy the night.

After procuring a Yazoo pale, I walked into the room and was able to land a spot at stage left near bassist Billy Mack Hill and guitarist Chris "Viva Las Vegas" Becker. It wasn't long, however, before "the eclipse" moved in - a good size feller who shoe-horned his way in front of many of us blocking our view as he head-bobbed for the early part of the show. Once he bulled his way in, it created a leak in the dam where another 8 to 10 folks forced their way in as well with the simple exchange of "Hey, you mind if we get up here? Thanks. Hey y'all, come on up here too!" But it was the Cheese, I was up front, and nothing was going to derail the fun times.

With very little banter, the band hit us right in the mouth by opening with Oh Yeah.

After months of planning and rehearsing for the two shows, Tommy apparently got really sick on game day. He donned his rally derby and soldiered on to the show. As a hedge, ringer guitarist and pleasant surprise to all, the band brought in Warner Hodges, the legendary guitarist from Jason & The Scorchers. From what I gathered, Warner had planned to join them on a couple of songs. As it turned out, he seemed to have a genuinely good time and played on about a third of the setlist.

Tommy Womack

For the third or fourth song, the band kicked off Underneath the Watertower, the second track from their EP, C'mon Back To Bowling Green And Marry Me. About half-way through the song, Willis seemed to forget the lyrics, seemed ready to bail on the song and was ready for the band to re-start the song. But there is no crying in baseball and no mulligans in rock-and-roll. The band kept their rhythms, the crowd chanted their support, Scott smiled and gathered his thoughts and they forged their way through the rest of it. He apologized when the song ended saying he moved it up in the setlist to get it out of the way early and hedge against forgetting the lyrics. But no one cared.

Scott Willis, Viva Las Vegas and Joe Elvis

With only a minor hiccup or two, the band ripped through their first pretty tight and VERY LOUD set. I glanced over at one point and noticed a guy half my age with ear plugs in his ears. I dismissed him as a complete FAIL. After another song or two though, Willis asked someone to grab him some napkins so he could stick them in his ears. Sure enough, someone soon fetched a stack of about 100 for him.

He wadded up a couple, crammed them in his ears and gave the rest to the crowd saying "You may need these. We're turned up to 11." Hopefully my fellow middle-agers got the Spinal Tap ref. As for me, no way was I going for the ear protection. I didn't wait two decades to hear a clipped MP3 version of the Cheese. Who cares if everything on Sunday sounded as muddy as a Polygram cassette tape? (Surely some of you are similarly aged to appreciate how awful pre-recorded Polygram cassettes sounded back in the day.)

Twenty years ago at a Cheese show, alcohol flowed in prodigious amounts and cig smoke hung in the air like a San Fran fog. In 2011, though the room was packed, the bar wasn't overly busy and smoking is almost non-existent anymore - at least on a club floor. Most folks seemed to claim their spot and stay there much of the night. Once the first set ended, I downed another couple of Yazoos quickly and figured I'd stake out a new spot as folks took bathroom and smoke breaks. Sure enough, I eased to the opposite end of the stage and secured a great spot. I laughed a bit as I talked to a youngster standing next to me saying "I'm guessing you weren't around much for the first go-round of Cheese." The kid said something to the effect of "they were around in 1985 but I wasn't born until 95." It then dawned on me it was Tommy's son. His mother, Beth, settled in behind him. As Tommy noted in his write-up of the show, his son finally got to see his dad in the rock-and-roll glory he'd only heard about as he's grown up. Tommy references his son's drumming skills in his solo song, Alpha Male & The Canine Mystery Blood. I jokingly needled Nathan a bit by suggesting he ask for a chance to drum on one of the songs. But smartly I suppose, he was content to stay at the lip of the stage and just absorb it all.

Scott Willis & Billy Mack Hill

Tommy Womack and Warner Hodges

The second set picked up right where the first one ended. Included was one of my faves, Billy Mack's The Shrubbery's Dead Where Danny Used To Fall. Its hardly an uplifting song, but I've enjoyed it since day one for a couple of reasons: One, lyrically its the complete opposite of some of the Cheese's more comedic songs. Two, the visual created by the song's title made me laugh in a whacked sort of way from the first time I heard of it. Three, being a Monty Python fan, the word "shrubbery" always brings a smirk to my face - even in the midst of the dark subject matter of the song.

Another example of how the show of Saturday wasn't the show of 20 years ago. As the second set peaked, a near 50-year-0ld Willis pulled a stage dive several feet to the right of where I was standing. Rather than be prepared to catch him, the aging audience with their iPhones and Droids in hand shrieked a bit, parted ways and barely broke his fall.

A beer-soaked playlist

As mentioned at the beginning, I didn't keep notes about the setlist. But I know the following songs were played. Other than opening with Oh Yeah and closing with the Jim Carroll cover People Who Died (are you listening Lindsay Lohan and Charlie Sheen?), I'm not going to pretend to remember the exact order or set.

Oh Yeah (TMC video'd)
Rebecca Whitmire
Underneath The Watertower
Stay With Me
Mammaw Drives The Bus
I Wanna Be a Man
A Little Bit of Sex (less Tommy's 10-minute Gene Simmons story he generally tells in his solo shows)
No Sleeping in Penn Station
For the Battered (TMC video'd)
Face to Face
Nothing Feels Good
I Can't Help Myself
Single
Yellow Cling Peaches
Camping on Acid
Sunday Driver
I Can't Make You Love Me
Cattle Prod > American Band (TMC video'd)
The Shrubbery's Dead (Where Danny Used To Fall) (TMC video'd)
C'mon Back to Bowling Green and Marry Me
Fish Stick Day (TMC video'd) > My Old Kentucky Home

Encore:
Bathtub He Asked
Folsom Prison Blues
Jailbait
Skinny & Small > People Who Died

Attention: Bonus Blog Content! And today - available to you at no charge!

The songs I recorded are included in my YouTube GC playlist, and a few of the photos I took are available in my Photobucket album.

...and the band now.

These days, I prefer a chair at a small, round table or perch myself on a bar stool in a small room listening to a singer-songwriter over arena/stadium concerts or ridiculously loud rock shows in a club. But if the Cheese reunite in another 20 years, I hope I'll be there to see them - even if it means turning my hearing aid up to 11 to enjoy the show.

TMC

A Pack Rat's Redemption

2011-02-16T21:47:00.000-06:00

I've been accused by two women in my life of being a pack rat. One is my mother, and the other is my wife. For the former, it takes one to know one. She embraced my keeping whatever I wanted. The latter loathes all things clutter, and my efforts to stay one step ahead of her purge plans are analogous to the efforts of Frank Abagnale in Catch Me If You Can.

I will admit to holding on to a few choice collectibles...and other stuff.

Most of my treasured mementos are tucked away in boxes in our attic, crawlspace or desk drawers. However, I'm not a candidate for Hoarders...yet.

For me, the biggest challenge of keeping stuff though is remembering where I put it. The challenge is getting tougher with age and the accumulation of more stuff. Over the last couple of weeks, I found an envelope of NASCAR-related patches collected as a kid. Suddenly I had a blog idea for Volunteer State Bench Racing. Scan the patches as images, and share them in a blog entry. Only one problem - I couldn't find at least 2 or 3 patches I knew I still had. Nights at home the last week or so have frustrated me because I simply could not find THE envelope with the remaining patches.

Tonight I had an a-ha moment. The attic! I hadn't checked the attic. Inside the second copy-paper box I opened was a shoebox. Off came the lid - and there were the patches! But what is this? More?

Here are a few other items I found tucked away.

Ticket stubs for a Jacksonville Bulls USFL football game, a Milwaukee Brewers game at the old Milwaukee County Stadium, an Atlanta Braves game at the old Fulton County Stadium
Ticket stubs for concerts by The Connells, R.E.M., Guadalcanal Diary with Treat Her Right and comedian Bob Goldthwait
An "I Love Kmart" button - boy, that one is clearly obsolete
Several buttons I conned waitresses into giving me. Was I that charming or just that annoying? Wait - don't answer that.
A handwritten set list from the stage of a Fetchin Bones concert - with black duct tape still on each end
A box of dominoes
A set of clicker-clackers. Forget the cries of Halo and Grand Theft Auto video games being harmful to kids. Clicker-clackers had the potential to be a true killer - that and lawn darts.
Two books of Lincoln pennies from early 1900s through mid 1970s with only a few missing years. I've got wheat and Lincoln Memorial versions as well as a couple of steel pennies made during World War II. My grandfather gave me the majority of them in an effort to have us share a hobby. I think he contributed 1909 to 1972 with my pitching in 1973-1977.
A flowcharting template. I showed this one to my son who responded with a three-letter, monotone, drawn out, stunned word: Wwwowww. Yes folks - process mapping existed before Office clipart and Visio.
Two baseballs
Three snare drum instructional and solo books
My high school class ring and diploma
An ACE bandage
A memo from the office administrator of my first professional employer
A parody memo prepared by co-workers and me mocking said office administrator

All of this may sound like junk to you. But to a pack rat like me, re-discovering all this stuff was like the comfortable feeling of napping in a hammock on a nice, warm day.

Now dang it, where did I store that Kansas Dust In The Wind 8-Track?

TMC

Feel Bad For You - February 2011

2011-02-02T22:33:00.000-06:00

Last month, I intro'd the January 2011 Feel Bad For You compilation to you. Now its time to tee up the February edition.

Download the Feel Bad for February mix tape (MP3's here), or simply play it below:

TMC

Happy Birthday Way Back Machine

2011-01-31T07:43:00.005-06:00

Happy birthday to me. My favorite birthday card ever received had the following greeting in it:

For your birthday, may you enjoy wine, women and song...
...just make sure none of them are flat.

Props to my mama for a photo of my first birthday celebration. I find it interesting my gift was a horse because it seems I eat like one these days.

Here is the comment my mother sent with the picture.

We lived out on the hill. Dad walked on snowy and icy sidewalks from the newspaper office to the Woolworth's on the square to get the horse for your birthday.

Of course the Rogers boys broke it before you ever learned to ride it. We were excited about getting it and trying to help you learn to scoot along on the horse.

Realization #1: Those dadgum Rogers boys. I always knew there was something I didn't like about them. If I'd only had that horse, I could have rounded up a posse to go after them.

Realization #2: Its true! My folk did walk up hill in the snow back in the day. And here I thought it was just a rhetorical lecture to a lazy kid.

TMC

January 28, 1986

2011-01-28T14:37:00.001-06:00

Two roommates and I lived off-campus during our final two years of college. We either carpooled to campus, or I'd bike there when the weather was nice. Precision became a bit of a game for us - how close could we cut it by leaving the apartment, deal with just a bit of college-town traffic, find a place to park, and still make it to our seats before the professor?

On January 28, 1986, one of my roommates headed to campus early to take care of some things. Chris and I stayed behind and said we'd catch-up with him.

One of the reasons we were waiting to go was because Chris wanted was to see a shuttle launch. He said he'd never seen one on TV before. I gave him a hard time about it because I'd seen many of them through high school and early college years. The timing of the launches was never really predictable because of altered schedules, mechanical delays, weather, etc. But the way the launches happened predictable. The thing rises slowly from the pad on a column of flame, the TV cameras struggle to focus as the orbiter gains speed and altitude, the solid rocket boosters separate gracefully and fall away, and the shuttle and main fuel tank continue until out of TV range. The whole process was predictable - yet I never tired of watching them. I couldn't believe Chris had never seen one.

We easily had 15-20 minutes to spare before class to watch the launch. The engines ignited, and the shuttle lifted from the pad - just as expected. Once it ascended a bit, something odd happened. The solid rocket boosters separated in a crazy, accelerating, smoke-belching pattern - not the graceful way as was the norm. Also, the booster separation was normally preceded by a *poof* of smoke - some sort of charge they used I guess to get rid of them. This time we saw a big fireball.

Having seen many launches, I knew this wasn't normal. Both of us stared at the screen, and Chris then said quietly "Is it supposed to do that?" I think I muttered something to the effect of "Um, no. Daayyum."

The TV folks picked up on the problem, and then we heard the voice from Houston through TV: "Obviously a major malfunction."

We watched a couple of more minutes and then clicked off the TV to head to class. We knew. Chris and I weren't the only ones in class to have seen it happen live; however, we were in the minority and began to spread the word of what we'd just seen.

25 years ago. It still just doesn't seem possible.

On Saturday morning, February 1, 2003, sadly and incredibly I witnessed the loss of a second shuttle live on TV as the story was unfolding and again in the presence of someone who'd never watched a shuttle launch or landing - my young son. I remember flashing back to the scene on TV in our college apartment's living room in 1986 when my son asked "Was it supposed to do that?"

May you continue to R.I.P. Challenger and Columbia crews.

TMC

Is it possible to be a really dumb idiot?

2011-01-21T12:03:00.003-06:00

The world is full of dumb people, and the world has its share of idiots. But is it possible to be a really dumb idiot?

I've organized a boy scout trip to a university about 90 miles from home for the kids to earn a variety of merit badges. The trip is tomorrow (January 22).

Six weeks ago, I arranged for drivers.
A month ago, I reminded the scouts who signed up and their parents to mark the date on their calendar.
A week ago, I e-mailed them all again with our specific travel logistics.
A day ago, I e-mailed them a condensed recap of the same information. I provided my e-mail address and cell number in each message.

Appropriate level of communication, correct? Apparently not...

Middle Tennessee got a bit of snow last night. I knew it was on its way, and I told everyone I would e-mail, call, send smoke signals, or whatever else it took to communicate any changes in our travel plans. The snow wasn't a big deal, the roads are clear, and all systems are 'go'.

But then I got a call this morning from one of the scouts. Are we still going? Are we car pooling? What time are we meeting? What time are we getting back?

Huh? I told him all that information was sent in multiple e-mails and suggested he and his parents read it. He then gave the phone to his mother who asked me the same questions. So I told her the same thing.

Then I got this response. "Oh, we're over our data limit for our Verizon plan this month. So we're not getting any e-mails for now. That's not the best way to communicate with us." I responded with silence on my end.

She then said she also wanted to go on the trip to look around the campus and visit the engineering building to see if its a school where her kid might want to go. Noble goal I thought - let's see where this goes.

Her: Can I catch a ride there? You know, to look around the campus and all?
TMC: I don't mind your going. However, all seats are accounted for with the 3 drivers I've got. So you'll have to drive separately.

Her: Well, I'm not a snow driver.
TMC: The roads are fine. I was at the office by 7:30 this morning.

Her: But what about there?
TMC: I don't know. I'm not there. I'm here, but I'm certain they are fine - and will be even more so by tomorrow morning.

Her: Well, I really want to go to see if this is a university where my son might want to go.
TMC: As I said, you are welcome to go. I just don't have room for you in our vehicles.

Her: I'm not wanting to go just for fun. I want to go to help us make this important decision about college.
TMC: Time for me to go. I have a meeting to go to...uh, um...right now.

Her: OK. Well, let us know if there are more updates today. Just don't send them by e-mail since we don't have any internet access right now.
TMC: [Click]

Cue Antoine Dodson. She's so dumb. Really dumb. Furreal.

TMC

In recognition of MLK Day

2011-01-17T20:43:00.001-06:00

Off and on the last couple of days, I've pondered if I should blog something about Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. During lunch today, I read the January issue of The Contributor, a newspaper published and sold by the homeless of Nashville, and a poem contributed by Jesse Hayes jumped off the page at me.

I don't know Jesse, but I think I understand the basic message of his poem knowing he has been homeless. Yet like all poetry and lyrics to a song, a poet's or composer's original meaning is often different when interpreted by the eyes, ears, heart, and mind of another reader or listener.

Reading Jesse's poem today brought to my mind images of MLK and the civil rights movement for which he so passionately fought.

The Struggle - by Jesse Hayes

Time after time I find I'm drowning in a sea of despair
doubtfully I open up my eyes searching for a road that leads somewhere
when it seems that all hope is gone memory brings back to me what your love has done
so I'll glory in all my tribulation knowing that it will make me strong
surrounded by a great could of witnesses
I'll struggle until the race is won
I'll struggle until the race is won
I'll struggle until the race is won

Faith is being sure of what we hope for
certain of what we do not see
when the trumpet sounds and Jesus comes to take us
I pray my faith will still abide in thee.

TMC

Separated at Birth - Journalism vs. Seinfeld

2011-01-12T09:26:00.007-06:00

Newsweek columnist and author, Jonathan Alter ...

and George Costanza from Seinfeld...

I'm just sayin'...

Other Separated At Birth entries plus one from my racing-themed blog.

TMC

Feel Bad For You - January 2011

2011-01-11T23:43:00.004-06:00

For over two decades I've really grown to enjoy Americana music. I hate the label hung on the genre by labels, media, retailers, or whoever came up with it. 'Americana' does nothing to describe the type of music, and folks are generally biased to think the genre is limited to artists/bands from the U.S. or even the North American continent.

For years, I felt like I may have been one of only a handful of people who enjoyed many of the singers and band included in the sidebar of this blog. In the big scheme of all-things music, I probably do represent only a handful of folks interested in it.

While the genre is virtually impossible to describe with a single adjective, folks who enjoy it get it. Marketing for many of the bands is done through constant touring in places with nominal ticket prices or cover charges, ReverbNation sites, Twitter accounts, support for bootleg trading, and word-of-mouth endorsements.

My exposure to new Americana music has been widened through on-line sites like Pandora.com, message boards, and list-serv subscriptions. But the last two to three years, my learning curve has taken another sharp turn upward by meeting several great folks and new friends through various blogs and Twitter.

A year ago, Matt from A Truer Sound invited many other bloggers and me to submit our top 2o Americana releases from 2009. He tallied the submissions, ranked them, and published the consensus as The Bird List. I was flattered to be requested to submit my choices.

In a parallel blogging universe, Rockstar_Aimz has diligently blogged compilations of Americana tracks titled Feel Bad For You for months. Each compilation was built around a loose theme and based on submissions from posters to an on-line Canadian music forum.

As the number of contributors has waned, Matt has stepped forward again. Beginning this month, a new blog site is now live to make Feel Bad For You available to you. This month's theme represents a pseudo-best of 2010 - top songs of the year or tracks from top releases. Again, its pretty cool because I've been asked to submit my choice for this month (Twang Town Blues by Jason & The Scorchers) and in the months to come.

If you want to sample some new music, these compilations will be a great way to start. Will the songs included meet your definition of Americana? I don't know and frankly don't care. I've already said the one-word adjective is too restrictive. But I am here to say these songs are really top-shelf, and the contributors are to be applauded for their choices.

Download the Feel Bad for 2010 compilation (MP3's here), or simply play it below:

TMC

Big Dogs Rule (Normally)

2011-01-11T22:48:00.009-06:00

I generally favor larger dogs such as Labrador retrievers, German Shepherds, spaniels, boxers, etc. It just seems to me they are easier to train, love to please their owners, are generally more mild-mannered, and have an all-around better time than small dogs.

Having said that, I love it when any dog - large or small - outsmarts their owner.

From Failblog

I could watch this clip a million times - pretty sure I'm up to a quarter-million already.

TMC

Trying to live Christmas

2010-12-15T23:43:00.003-06:00

With each passing year, I find myself more cynical and frustrated by the month of December. Like Charlie Brown and Linus, I try to see Christmas for what its meant to me. But I get all bound up in the commercialism, who's supposed to get what, what day do we have to leave, when are we getting back, reciprocal card giving, hey! they'll love this gift card, atheists hatin' on Christians, "peace seeking" Christians spewing hate back at non-believers, Music Row hacks trying to squeeze yet another consumer dollar with a seemingly endless supply of lame country music Christmas albums, etc.

One spot of peace for me the last three years - including a few hours last week - has been at Project Homeless Connect. A Nashville organization called The Key Alliance has some lofty and noble goals of raising funds to implement programs to end chronic homelessness in Nashville over the next 10 years. One of those initiatives is to have a one-day event called Project Homeless Connect.

PHC offers a single-day event where homeless folks can get help in a myriad of ways and on a priority-assessed basis. Personal identification, coats, shoes, a haircut, a dental exam, an HIV test, legal services, pet care, housing applications, etc.

The group with whom I spent part of the day was Room in the Inn. I've blogged about this organization before, and I'm likely keep doing so in the future. In the Nashville/middle Tennessee area, RITI is perhaps best known for helping the homeless get a place to stay for a night in local churches and synagogues from November 1 through March 31.

But the organization is so much more. They have an art lab, technology and other job training classes, sessions on how to get a GED, a post office box for folks needing an address for an employer, drug and alcohol dependency sessions, and so on.

One of the most spiritually-grounded and humbling services they offer once a week is feet washing and care. A foot-washing center was set-up at PHC - and that's where I spent a few hours.

Now, before you get any ideas - I didn't go "all in". I was more than willing to empty, clean and refill the wash tubs; sanitize nail trimmers and pumice pads; ensure the volunteers had fresh towels to use; give out socks to the guests; and greet folks with a smile and "how ya doin' today?". Yet, I just couldn't muster that last bit of Christmas spirit to wash the feet of others myself.

Note: The rest of the pictures below were taken by various folks throughout the day. Clicking them will take you to their Facebook page, Twitpic site, etc.

I hustled as much as I could amongst the 8 to 10 wash stations we had going at once.

Emptying a tub here and there.
Signaling a heads up to the sign-in table when we had an open station.
Giving a large garbage bag to a few folks as their only "luggage" to carry a few meager possessions.
Trying to get a read from the body language of those who volunteered to wash to anticipate who may be ready for a break.

But frequently, I found myself pausing to just take it all in ... again. I've witnessed this scenario more than once - yet its always dramatic in a subtle way.

The volunteers took about 20 minutes per guest - TWENTY MINUTES - to wash and dry their feet, trim nails, do a simple visual inspection for signs of a larger clinical problem, massage the feet with lotion, and put on a pair of fresh socks.

To witness the humility required to give that level of personal attention to someone is inspiring.

Similarly, it takes a special person to sit in the chair and receive that level of attention. Homeless folks own essentially nothing from a material perspective. The one thing many of them possess and hold onto, however, is their pride. Sometimes that level of pride may be too great to allow one's self to receive this type of gift. To see folks have a healthy dose of pride - or moderate their strong supply of it - in order to receive the offering of the foot care is equally inspiring.

At the end of the day, RITI volunteers served about 100 people - men and women, young and old, black and white. I was there for about half the day and left feeling I had experienced part of Christmas.

At the same time, I had a twinge of guilt for not being able shelve part of my pride and cross that line to more fully immerse myself in the experience. Maybe next time...

Here are a few links for those who want to know more about homeless relief in the Nashville area. Even if you don't live in the area, I'm quite sure the info at these sites will spur some ideas for action for wherever you are. We certainly don't have the market cornered on this problem.

The Key Alliance - Web - Twitter
Project Homeless Connect - Twitter
Room In The Inn - Web - Twitter
The Homeless Guy - Blog

TMC

These are a few of my favorite things

2010-12-06T20:29:00.001-06:00

Thought I'd share a few of my favorite Christmas tree ornaments.

One of a few Hallmark ornaments we have on our tree. But its a good 'un: a Richard Petty commemorative release.

A Labrador retriever ornament as a memorial for my faithful companion, Winston, who I lost six years ago.

A See Rock City 'birdhouse' ornament to help remember the years of living in Chattanooga, TN - home of Rock City.

A Nashville Predators bobblehead ornament to help celebrate our NHL team and great times at the games with my kids.

Cold Miser and Heat Miser from one of the greatest Christmastime TV shows: Rankin-Bass' The Year Without A Santa Claus.

A drum ornament given to me by my mother 20-something years ago as a nod to my time in high school marching band drumline. About one-third of the ornaments on our tree have been given to us by her over the years. Just ain't nothing better than a loving mother.

And my favorite ornament. A random, un-Christmas-like, black-and-white cow ornament given to us by my wife's aunt. It has the name "Wanda" painted on the front of it. The aunt is one of those Avon-selling types - the kind who likes to pitch the product but who herself wears too much of that slimy-looking Tammy Faye Baker make-up with black, broomstraw eyelashes.

One year, she made a big production of giving us this ornament. One, a cow? Really, for Christmas? Two, no one in my wife's family is named Wanda. Not herself, mother-in-law, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, nieces, housekeeper, third grade teacher, postal carrier, etc. NO ONE. Which led us to believe only one thing: She re-gifted to us a custom-ordered ornament that wasn't paid for by one of her customers. She found a perfect way to unload it - but likely forgot Wanda's name was already tattooed on it. Needless to say, its now become one of the first ornaments to be hung - and gets a place front and center on the tree.

Disclaimer: Despite the name of this blog entry, I've never seen The Sound of Music. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Blog Bonus! The Miser Bros. finest moments!

TMC

Tommy Womack at Family Wash

2010-11-26T08:43:00.002-06:00

In the late 1980s, amidst my post-college, early professional years, I was introduced by a friend to the band Government Cheese. As I recall, I don't remember his having any recordings by the band. He had just heard them on local rock radio while on a visit back to Nashville. (We shared an apartment in Chattanooga back then.) So during one of my own family-visit trips back to Nashville, I picked up a cassette of the Cheese's four-song EP C'mon Back to Bowling Green...and Marry Me.

Shortly thereafter, I bought their Three Chords, No Waiting "live" cassette. (I learned much later the producer piped in live audience part of the release during the mix.) I was fortunate to see the band live three times - twice as headliner in Chattanooga and once in Nashville as the opener for Guadalcanal Diary.

Over time, I didn't hear much more about the band. I relocated back to Nashville in the mid 90s and simply continued listening to new and established artists and bands. However, I remained curious what happened to the Cheese but didn't have much way to dig into it.

Then a wonderful thing happened - [sarcasm] Al Gore invented the internet! [/sarcasm]

A night of Google searches landed me on tommywomack.com where I learned the band's guitarist was alive and well, had released a couple of solo CDs, and had written a book about his time in Government Cheese. An e-mail sent. An e-mail received. Ba-da-boom, ba-da-bing, a correspondence dialog began, and I was back to listening to my old cassettes and learning about the days of the Cheese.

I've had the good fortune to see Tommy perform many times in different venues around Nashville: The Basement, Exit-In, Grimey's New and Pre-Loved Music, The Melrose (now closed), the Belcourt Theatre, and even the parking lot of Sam's Sports Bar in Hillsboro Village. My favorite spot to hear him perform, however, is the Family Wash. Its a pretty small club seating about 100 people in East Nashville - home of Tommy as well as Todd Snider. Its the part of town where the motto is East Nashville: We'll Steal Your Heart...and Your Lawnmower.

Its not the Bluebird Cafe. Its not Tootsie's on lower Broadway. Its East By Cracky Nashville.

Last Saturday was my first opportunity to visit the Wash in a couple of years. Tommy's set was part of the Wash's concluding night of "10 Years of Short Sets" where several local artists get to perform a handful of cuts. While likely tough for the artists/bands to set-up for only a half-dozen songs or so, its neat for the audience to hear a diverse range of talented Nashville musicians and songwriters.

Before Tommy began his set, he was preceded by Tom Mason - a long-time talented performer around Nashville. As he got ready to perform, it dawned on me I'd met him about three years ago at the Wash when he was in a band called The Big Happy with his wife and Nashville performing and producing couple, Billy and Jill Block. I reminded him of that show, and he remembered it. Mason is quite the showman with no two songs sounding quite the same and his hamming it up during the brief set list. Three songs stood out to me from his set:

Chano Pozo's Shoes - An exceptional song based loosely on the true story of a conga player who introduced jazz great Dizzy Gillespie to Afro-Cuban rhythms.
The World is Drunk - Mason said the basis for the song is his opinion about the world's appetite for oil. Politics aside, it really is a neat song. During the song, he set down his electric guitar and picked up ... a trombone. He then roamed around the room playing it and playfully bounced the slide against ornamental balloons hanging from the ceiling.
The Pirate Song - A completely unexpected closer for me titled simply enough, The Pirate Song. All of us were encouraged to yell "We'll all go down / we'll all go down / we'll all go down...with the ship. Argh!" at the appropriate time.

You can listen to all three of these songs - and several others - on the music page of Tom's website.

Over the last several years, I've seen a number of talented musicians back Tommy. Yet, he's always been billed simply as "Tommy Womack". Saturday, however, he introduced himself and the band as Tommy Womack and The Rush To Judgment. The ensemble featured Paul Griffith on drums, Dan Seaborn on bass, Mark Robinson on guitar, and Lisa Oliver-Gray on backing vocals. An accordionist from Tom Mason's band, Michael Webb, also sat in on a few cuts.

Having memorized the lyrics from most of his songs, I can generally mumble along to them as he sings them. Saturday night, however, he introduced several new tracks, and I wasn't familiar with any of them. That was fine though as I just kicked back, enjoyed my Brooklyn Brown Ale, and tried to absorb the new cuts he offered.

With the number of years Tommy has under his belt - from Cheese days, as a solo performer, as co-writer with Jason and The Scorchers, playing with Will Kimbrough as Daddy-The Band, and/or as a sometimes member of Todd Snider's band - he's developed a loyal core of fans who attend his shows. However, the age demo of the audience continues to climb with each gig! Lots of gray hair, bi-focals, and paunches were in attendance. The days of moshing in the front of his stage... well, I think that ship has sailed. But the huge upside though is the folks largely listen to his performance vs. talking all the way through it as is too often the case in a lot of clubs.

Because he was the final act of the Short Sets evening, Tommy didn't play as long as I would have liked. Yet the songs he did perform in his allotted time were great - especially the new ones.

Set list:

If That's All There is to See
Play That Cheap Trick (new)
A Nice Day
Indy - A new, a cappella, spoken-word 'rap' with only Griffith laying down a drum riff. The lyrics are so new Tommy had to read them from a sheet. He told me afterwords the song is based on a true story - though its not one of which he's proud.
It Doesn't Have to be That Good (new)
On and Off the Wagon (new)

Guilty Snake Blues (new) - The song includes the line "I've met my share of reptiles..." I found the lyric interesting for two reasons. One, its not often the word reptiles is worked into a rock-and-roll song. Two, the record label's name for Government Cheese back in the day? Yep, Reptile Records. A connection? I don't know, but I'm just wonderin...

Honest I Do - featuring Lisa on vocals. I've heard Lisa many times on backing vocals. She's got such a great voice, and I was glad she got the stage to sing lead vocals.
Alpha Male and the Canine Mystery Blood

With that, the show was over. I'd just ordered my next Brooklyn thinking Tommy had another few songs to go. But in keeping with the short sets theme of the evening, the show was done. Dan and Mark packed their guitars, and Paul started his drum kit tear-down. I took my freshly poured beer and went to Tommy to talk a bit before I headed out. I patiently waited as a couple of other folks talked to him. Patiently. Hit the bathroom. Returned. Waited some more. Patiently.

About the time I was going to talk to him, a woman slid in front of me and said "We drove from Columbia, South Carolina to see you. We'd love to hear more." So Tommy being one to accommodate his audience said "Uh, OK. Lisa you ready?" So with many having already left, Paul disassembling his drum gear, and the Wash's staff bussing tables to shut down for the night, Tommy and Lisa returned to the stage.

He encored with:

I Need a Cigarette
I'm a Coackroach After the Bomb
Wishes Do Come True (new)
I'm Too Old To Feel That Way Right Now (new)
There's No Sex Addicts Anonymous (new)

After those 3 song fragments, he quipped "Pardon me, I'm having kind of a Ryan Adams moment here." I thought the line was hilarious. However, some woman off to the side clearly didn't get it and bleated "CUTS LIKE A KNIFE!" He directly but with good humor responded "Get out! Get out you!"

He closed with two final ones:

Pot Head Blues (new)
Bye & Bye

About two years ago, Tommy purchased the masters of Government Cheese's recordings. After a large investment of time, effort, and money, he recently released the 2-CD anthology Government Cheese: 1985-1995. If you haven't experienced the Cheese, I highly encourage you to add this one to your Christmas wish list. Also, be sure to watch the Behind The Cheese videos on his YouTube channel. Some very funny anecdotes about the days in the band, inspiration for songs, etc.

Also, as we now enter this season of Thanksgiving and Christmas where we give thanks for our blessings and go above and beyond to help others, I'd like to do some of that myself. I've got a handful of bootlegs of Tommy's shows from over the last few years I could provide for the low, low price of FREE. Please contact me if you'd like to know more. You're a smart reader - you know how to contact me.

The set list from the stage - though clearly many modifications were made on the fly based on the time he was allotted to perform.

TMC

2010 My Many Blessings

2010-11-24T13:43:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving Day. Calories. Cowboys and Lions. Family. Travel. And for some, ready-set-GO for shopping.

I'll have generous helpings of all the above...except the shopping part. This year - as in prior years - I've had generous helpings of things and people in my life for which I'm genuinely thankful. Last year, I turned my thanks into a blog mini-series. The 2010 will be a single, get-it-and-go edition.

Here is a list of a few things of my life and observations for which I'm thankful ...

The life of my Uncle Earl who passed away June 3, 2010. My uncle, mentor, and friend. Gone too soon, but he left me with a lifetime of memories, laughs, and counsel.
My son's 80+ year-old scoutmaster who continues year after year to have an endless passion for helping shape boys into young men. His wise challenges to the boys and his smiling encouragement of them is very cool to watch.
Nashville, TN's music scene. I could make an effort to drive or fly elsewhere to see several bands. But for the most part, I can just stay right chere and wait for them to come through town. I admit I take for granted the vibrant scene of local performers as well as traveling artists.
The collective positive reaction and recovery efforts by middle Tennesseans following the May 2010 floods.
A brotherhood of five friends with whom I meet each Tuesday morning for breakfast and an hour together to catch up on life.
Schaefer beer

Richard Petty's desire to stay involved in NASCAR. For the most part, I've covered my interest in racing in another blog. Yet, I'd be remiss if I didn't give a nod to one of my heroes here.
The men and women who stand a post in the four corners of the globe doing all they can to defend the unmatched freedoms and liberty of this nation.
Strawberries
The gift and art of my daughter's piano playing
Oatmeal Crisp Raisin cereal

The homeless. I'm not thankful folks are homeless. But I'm thankful for the lives of people on the street who are too frequently discarded by society.
Not having to contend with an airport during the Thanksgiving travel period
Maple trees with vibrant red leaves in the fall

Seeing kids ride bicycles without shoes, a helmet, wrist guards and knee or elbow pads
My rejection of certain temptations
Ceviche and a rita on the rocks at Garcia's Mexican restaurant in Franklin, TN
Labrador retriever pups

Happy Thanksgiving if you are reading this.

TMC

Corb Lund at Exit-In

2010-11-22T19:43:00.000-06:00

About five or six years ago, I saw a relatively unknown artist named Hayes Carll open for Todd Snider at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville. His witty lyrics, soulful sound, and Steven Wright-ish deadpan joke delivery made me a fan.

A few months later, I got a recording of Hayes from his show at the Cheatham Street Warehouse in San Marcos, TX. On the recording, he mentioned being on tour at the time with Corb Lund and The Hurtin' Albertans. At first, I thought it was another one of his jokes - that is until I sought and found Corb's own Cheatham Street recording. From the time I first heard Five Dollar Bill (video), I became a fan of Corb's as well.

Last Monday night was my third time to see Corb and the band - all at different Nashville venues. This time it was the legendary Exit-In hosting the boys. The band has been doing several U.S. dates opening for Jason Boland. But with Boland taking the evening off, they traveled to Nashville for a headliner show.

The show was billed as starting at 9PM. As anyone knows who has seen a show at the Exit-In (or most clubs for that matter), the starting time is merely a suggestion. The opening band generally begins at least a half-hour after the announced time with the headliner taking the stage at least an hour after that. So I figured I had plenty of time to arrive.

I parked around 9:20, but as I approached the front door the sound I heard was unexpected. I figured I might hear house music or maybe an unannounced opening act. Instead, it was clearly Corb's vocals of Chinook Wind. I'd missed the start!

The only thing I can figure is the show started on time because it was a Monday night. Folks had just come off the weekend, and the rest of the work week loomed. So perhaps it was a matter of just get on with it.

Again, perhaps because it was Monday, Nashville stayed away in droves. (Or maybe it was because Corb isn't Taylor Swift, Brad Paisley, or any of the other Music Row hacks.) The Exit-In has a big concrete slab floor in front of the stage where folks normally gather. Instead, it was empty - completely. Some stood by the door. A few folks stood to the margins of the building as if they were prepared to beat a hasty retreat during the night. A few more headed to the balcony loft. And a handful of others sat at the few hightops in the back of the club. Once the show began, I guess no one wanted to be that guy to be the only one on the floor so the show proceeded with no one within 20 feet of the edge of the stage.

A trio of girls standing near me chatted constantly during the show. I have absolutely no idea why folks like that bother to show up to hear bands. I get comparing notes, guys and gals trading phone numbers, drinks being ordered, folks asking what did he just say?, etc. But to have a run-of- the-mill conversation like you are at lunch at Panera, that's too much for the rest of us who actually want to hear the band. Yet when Corb asked if anyone in the audience was from Alberta, sure enough these clowns had to rip off a big WHOOOOOO! YEAAAAAAH! At least you embarrassed yourselves and Alberta vs. being a Nashville local.

As usual, Grant Siemens was exceptional. Unlike the previous two times I'd seen the band, he didn't bring as many guitars. But he did play his electric guitar, a pedal steel, and a mandolin - all seemingly without effort. A true talent.

Near the end of the set, the band played Seven Spanish Angels. It wasn't a complete surprise, as I'd read elsewhere the song has been included in the set list over the last couple of years. Yet, it was cool to hear such as wonderful song. I first heard it when Ray Charles and Willie Nelson did a duet of it on Charles' Friendship LP in the mid 80s.

With the lackluster attendance, Corb seemed to perfunctorily proceed through the set without many breaks or engagement with the limited audience that was present.Don't get me wrong - the set list included many great tracks from their most recent four releases as well as a couple of new tracks. And I certainly don't blame the band for gettin' on with it. If the vibe isn't there, just do your job, entertain those that are there, collect the check, and load up for the next gig.

As is the norm, the band closed with Time To Switch To Whiskey (We've Been Drinking Beer All Night). Corb, bassist Kurt Ciesla, and drummer Brady Valgardson had been drinking PBR during the show. Once they said we'd like to close our show with..., someone bought a round for the boys and shots of whiskey were placed near the front of the stage. (Look carefully and you can see them in the photo below.) Corb seemed happy at the gesture, and each band member took their shot after a solo moment during the song.

After a three-song encore, the show ended and the Exit-In emptied almost immediately. I stuck around a bit and chatted with Brady about his drum kit, met a guy who has patented a collapsible upright bass to help with packing and travel (Kurt was playing one of them), got a free CD from the guy's singer-songwriter wife as he was talking to Kurt, and connected with Corb by letting him know I was "toomuchcountry" who helped promote the show on Twitter. He knew I'd done so and thanked me.

Set List:

...joined in progress. what did I miss?...
Chinook Wind
Losin' Lately Gambler
Devil's Best Dress
Big Butch Bass Bull Fiddle
Its Hard to Keep a White Shirt Clean
Alberta Says Hello
This Is My Prairie
I Want To Be in the Calvary
Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier
Drink It Like You Mean It - A new song with Grant Siemens on pedal steel guitar. Corb said the song was about "drinking with integrity".
Five Dollar Bill
The Oil's Back In Town - A big hockey fan, Corb said he wrote the song and pitched it to the Edmonton Oilers team. He talking them into letting him perform it and had visions of free tickets. But after performing it, the Oilers went on an extended losing streak so that was the end of that.

Hair in my Eyes Like a Highland Steer
Buckin' Horse Rider
The Truth Comes Out - Kurt Ciesla's bass intro is artistically haunting. This video from a 2009 performance gives you some idea. But you really have to hear his larger, richer bass echo the low notes to truly appreciate his contribution to the song. As Corb says when he introduces Kurt on the bottom, we got him.

R-E-G-R-E-T (MP3 from a September 2010 show in Luckenbach, TX)
Little Foothills Heaven
The Horse I Rode In On
Seven Spanish Angels
Rye Whiskey/Time To Switch to Whiskey

Encore:
Long Gone to Saskatchewan - I was trying to take show notes with pen and paper. You have any idea how hard it is to chicken-scratch Saskatchewan in the dark?
Heavy and Leaving
Gonna Shine Up My Boots

TMC

Newark to NYC 2010

2010-11-18T23:43:00.002-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I made my annual trip to (officially) Newark, NJ with a couple of (unofficial) side trips to NYC. My plans were to get to Newark early enough in the afternoon so I'd have time to drop my bags at the hotel, train over to Penn Station in New York, and do a bit of sight-seeing before meeting someone for dinner. I'm not all that familiar with New York and wanted all the daylight I could muster for touring.

As it turns out, we landed more than 90 minutes late. Officially, we were told landings were postponed or stretched because of the heavy cloud cover and rain in the area. I do wonder, however, if perhaps we were delayed because a TSA agent was patting down the junk of the air traffic controller responsible for coaxing our aircraft in safely.

I've enjoyed my previous trips to New York. Its just that I haven't strayed too far. I've walked along Broadway and other streets and avenues from Central Park to Times Square to the Empire State Building. I've been to the Upper West Side around Riverside Church, Columbia University, and Grant's Tomb. I've had dinner one time in Little Italy, and I was driven to the World Trade Center site in 2002 where I stood in the rain...and stared...and contemplated...

On this trip, I had hoped to cover more ground and indeed did so. Once I realized the window of daytime touring had closed, I focused instead on simply getting to the Newark Penn Station so I could ride the train to New York.

While riding to Penn Station aboard the Hampton Inn van shuttle, I chatted up Tony, my driver. I asked him where I could get Schaefer beer in Newark. He said he hadn't had Schaefer in years, but he knew the old ad jingle! Schaefer, Schaefer. The one beer to have when you're having more than one. He suggested a package store a short walk from the Hampton as a good place to begin my search.

Once I hit Penn Station under Madison Square Garden, I quickly sought out the subway to get to the Upper East Side to meet my friend for dinner. He wanted to meet at the Peking Duck House on East 53rd St.

Source: www.championstamp.com/dinner.htm

The idea was to share a duck; however, the restaurant required a minimum of four people to serve it. Why? I don't know - maybe its part of some international treaty. Instead - well let's just say the sizzling rice soup, orange chicken and Shezuan shrimp more than made up for lacking a quacker.

One of the places I had wanted to go before dinner was an East Village bar I found on-line serving Schaefer beer - the Spring Lounge. The Village was one of those places I'd never been but felt it was time to try. Fortunately, my friend was willing to seek it out as well. So we headed for the 6 train which dropped us off just a couple of blocks away.

After my experience with only a handful of locals at Schaefer's Bar in Baltimore, I wasn't sure what to expect at Spring Lounge. When we got there though, it was packed. Truly a thriving, community bar that turns out to have been there for a long, long time. And sure enough - there it was. The Schaefer.

I really liked their logo on the wall too: Life Is Short, Drink Early. The Spring Lounge opens at 8AM Monday through Saturday. I left wishing I could return and be in line the next morning at 7:45 to enjoy a bit more of the atmosphere.

After quaffing a couple of Schaefers (and Brooklyn lager for my friend), we headed for the train to Newark to get ready for 2 days of presentations - the official reason for my visit.

The symposium I attended isn't a traditional sort of training conference. Some of the presentations include information for the here and now. But others are strictly recaps of academic research that don't have a lot of practical application in the near term. Coefficients, law of anomalous numbers, belief functions, kurtosis, domain specific language, Zzzzz. Drool. Thank goodness for wireless internet and Twitter during those sessions.

The subject matter of the two days is somewhat of a "cottage industry" in the area in which I work. A fairly small group of us return each year to discuss progress in the area. Getting reacquainted with several pleasant and fun folks I get to see only once a year is an enjoyable part of the trip. But you also tend to run into several others who you just never really connect with - mainly because they're just...duds. Many are about as much fun as the clap. (tip to Ozzy Nelson's old man for that succinct simile)

As I blogged a year ago, the tradition for Friday night dinner at the symposium is to go to the Spanish Pavilion. Because of something going on there this year, we went to Rio Rodizio instead.

A Brazilian restaurant...and sushi house? WTH? I've been to Fogo de Chao in multiple cities and to Churrascos in Houston. Brazilian cuisine is great - meat on a sword! Our host, however, pulled an ol' switcheroo. We got the Spanish/Portuguese menu we normally get at Spanish Pavilion instead - paella, sauteed sausage, calamari, California roll "sushi", flan, rice pudding, sangria, etc. No meat from a spit. Once again, WTH? Don't get me wrong. It was good; however, it wasn't Pavilion-quality and at the risk of being redundant - no meat on a sword. Grrrr.

Once our sessions ended Saturday afternoon, I had time for a quick Schaefer search before returning to NYC for the evening. Sure enough, I found a 30 box at the package store near the hotel. I found Tony, the hotel shuttle driver, in the lobby, thanked him for the suggestion, and tipped him a sixer for the idea. Figured it was just a neat thing to do, but he seemed to be touched by my offering. What I never saw coming was the hug he gave me! That's not something I'm accustomed to getting with my Hilton Honors membership.

Saturday night, I ventured to an area of Manhattan called Chelsea. Again, it was another new area for me, and I really enjoyed walking a bit of it. Lots of restaurants, movie theater, grocery stores, barber shops, etc. Way different than Times Square (which I've now realized all of the city is way different than Times Square).

My target destination? The Trailer Park Lounge - the perfect place for toomuchcountry if there was one.

You just have to love a place that serves big ol' hamburgers, sweet potato fries, and moon pies. And their decorations are fantastic - including this box of White Trash detergent squirreled away in a display case.

What really caught my eye about the place when I sought it out was (likely to no surprise) they served Schaefer!

So I ordered one while waiting for a table. Unbelievable! They were out - zero, nada, zilch available. George isn't happy. But my planned good time was not going to be derailed. So I ordered one of the most uniquely named beers I've ever seen: Porkslap Farmhouse Pale Ale by Butternuts Brew & Ale.

Brian Doherty and I met for dinner at the Trailer Park. He and I met earlier this year through the wonders of social media such as blogs and Twitter. Brian is a fantastic drummer and has played with bands as varied as The Silos, They Might Be Giants, XTC, Freedy Johnston, and Ben Folds. We enjoyed a conversation about family, politics, music past and present, etc. He talked some interesting moments when auditioning to replace Bill Berry when he left R.E.M. What I found really interesting is how much he enjoyed the music and personality of John Prine and Todd Snider.

After gorging ourselves on burgers, tots, sweet potato fries, and several Sam Adams and even a Rheingold (my first), we pushed away from the table and decided it was time to part ways. He headed for home, but I wasn't ready to conclude my trip.

Now having a bit of confidence about my ability to navigate the NYC subway, I hopped a line to a station on Spring St. near Avenue of the Americas. According to my Google Maps app, the previously visited Spring Lounge was a short half-mile stroll from the stop. Perfect. Great evening weather. So off I strolled.

I walked several blocks, and I was pretty sure I'd covered at least a half-mile. But instead of hipster bars all around me, I was in the shadows a lot as I walked along Spring. When I could see the Hudson River, I realize something was wrong. Sure enough, I'd walked the half-mile in the wrong direction from the station. So I turned on my heel, retraced my steps to the station, and walked the half-mile in the correct direction. So my half-mile late night stroll to get a Schaefer turned into a 1.5 mile where-the-hell-am-I-going walk. My walk took me through SoHo - again an area I'd never visited - and before long the Spring Lounge was in sight. That cold Schaefer tasted so wonderful. I then headed for Penn Station to make my train back to Newark.

I awoke Sunday morning unsure what time it was. I was traveling on eastern time. My body and watch were still calibrated to central time. Sometime early Sunday morning, the time changed from daylight savings time back to standard time. And with my head processing remnants of Porkslap Farmhouse Ale, Rheingold, Sam Adams, and Schaefer, the only state I knew I was in was the state of confusion.

A late-morning french toast breakfast at the classy Top's Diner was enough to kickstart me again. As rough an area as Newark is, this little restaurant in East Newark and a short walk from the hotel where I was staying exudes class. Great food, attentive service, hot coffee, fair price. Ahhh.....

With that, this trip was done. Bags were packed - including about a case of Schaefer - and I was shuttled to EWR to return to the normal life.

TMC

Fun times in San Antonio

2010-11-06T08:23:00.001-05:00

I recently returned from my second trip to San Antonio, TX in a span of about 2 months. This time I went for a users conference for a software application we use at work. Its one of those rare conferences that includes plenty of practical learning opportunities and more fun than any one person should ever get to enjoy on the company nickel.

Because this is a personal blog, I'll focus on my more memorable entertaining memories:

Remember the Alamo! - The battle cry of Texans. I remembered it as well when I arrived because I got tossed from the place for trying to drink a beer the last time I visited.

Hearing a motivational speech by former Notre Dame football coach and current ESPN college football analyst, Lou Holtz. I have to admit - I wasn't the biggest Coach Lou fan going in. Much of my opinion was shaped by my University of Tennessee diggin' dad who hasn't liked him since his days as coach at Arkansas. But its not every day one gets to meet a championship-winning coach. After his presentation, I was humbled to be invited to meet him and have our photo made together. He also gave me an autograph on the back of his business card.

Finding Schaefer Light beer again in another H-E-B Grocery. There it was - nestled amongst some of the top yard beers of all time: PBR, Schlitz, and the Beast. All 24 cans made it back to Tennessee safe and sound thanks to Southwest Airlines. (The whole Schaefer story is too much to explain here. Follow our Schaefer adventures at Bench Racing from the Volunteer State if you want to learn more.)

Saddling up on the back of a long-horned Texas steer. I look pretty good after 8 seconds of rodeo riding, don't I? And how 'bout that dime-store cowboy hat! If I had another day or two of beard growth, I'm sure some folks would mistake me for Chuck Norris.

Spending a few minutes with some amateur astronomers who brought their telescopes to our hotel. I got up close and personal with the crater-riddled moon. I got to see Jupiter flanked by four of its moons. A third telescope allowed me to get a closer look at Jupiter - including its amazing horizontal bands. And a fourth telescope was focused on a cluster of stars. (Supposedly I was looking at star clusters and the Andromeda galaxy. What do I know? It sounded impressive, so let's go with it.)

Varying shades of purple, orange, and red of a Texas sunset. But more important, a pick-up loaded with all-you-could-consume Shiner Bock! (Out of frame was a second truck - just in case we put an undue hurting on this one.)

Experiencing the burn of a habanero pepper-infused tequila margarita. From my lips ... down the chute ... to my pit of my stomach. Cue Johnny Cash: ... and it burns, burns, burns. The ring of fire, the ring of fire.

Hanging with two friends from the U.K. who I met at previous years' conferences. I excel in speaking with a southern accent - even a bit 'hick' some may say (though I prefer the more sophisticated derisive term: toomuchcountry). My southernness gets more pronounced as the nights get longer and the tab grows larger. The same is true for the British brogue - and unique sayings - of my London brethren. When the hotel sports bar we were visiting closed at 2AM, one of them pleaded for them to they stay open. “Me still has a tab mate.” When the bartender insisted he had no choice, we reluctantly accepted the night was over. But the UK bloke told me he wanted to say “Ahhh, jump off ya bloody wankers”. I'm sure it would have been a true British insult yet understood by Americans as a comical PG smack down.

The three of us also discussed types of beer and drinking habits - both in the US and the UK. I mentioned the planned opening of Mayday Brewery in 2011 and that Ozzy Nelson had given me a growler or two of some of the brews he's begun making.

Upon mention of the word "growler", they both started laughing - snickering at first, followed by gut-busting laughs. Clearly I had missed something. I soon learned my definition of the word as a half-gallon beer bottle in the U.S. has quite a different slang meaning in the U.K. I'll spare you the alternate definition here. But if you insist on knowing, I've got two words for you: Urban Dictionary.

Who knew work-paid training could be so much fun?

TMC

Holy Rolling Halloweeners

2010-11-03T23:13:00.001-05:00

Every few years, the calendar does its little rotational trick such that October 31 falls on a Sunday. Inevitably, all sorts of fundamentalist, holy rollin', Bible thumpin' mamas come out of the woodwork pleading Halloween be moved to Saturday, October 30.

You can always predict they'll justify their lobbying on two levels:

Primarily - moral/theological reasons
Secondarily - its a school night

Look, I'm a believer though I don't always walk the straight and narrow. I confidently believe Jesus Christ died for the sins of us all, and all it takes to receive his grace is to simply believe in Him. Having said that, I will not go to hell for having my children go trick-or-treating if Halloween happens to fall on a Sunday as it did this year.

The repeated mantra by the pleaders is both somewhat humorous and yet tiresome. These folks can't handle the thought of the "devil's day" falling on a Sunday. These same parents, however, are willing to embrace the dark side of Halloween and allow their little goblins to greedily gobble all the free sugar-laden snacks they can collect - provided its done on a SATURDAY night and not the Lord's day.

Huh? If you are so alarmed by the blending of the Sabbath and a potential derailing of it by kiddos in football uniforms, jack o'lantern suits, superhero tights and capes and Michael Jackson get-ups, you've likely got far more ethical dilemmas in your life than can be solved by the changing of the traditional date of Halloween. (Seriously, I saw a kid dressed as the King of Pop this year. Ridiculous. Now, that's a parent that needs help.)

As for the second rationalization when the first one fails, this just in: Halloween falls on a school night more nights than not over a six or seven year period. If as a parent you are overly concerned about school the next day, get your kid off the street, restrict their sugar intake, and get 'em into bed at a reasonable hour - just like any other school night. Bottom line: be a parent.

Look, I've got a couple of kids of my own. Both do well in school. One reason among others the do well is they get a good night's rest - and Halloween night is no different. They've always gone out with their homemade costumes and pillow case collection sack - regardless of what night All Hallows Eve occurs - drain the neighborhood of its Snickers Minis, Skittles, Laffy Taffy, and Smarties; return home at a reasonable hour; clean up; hit the rack; and then rise the next morning - whether it be for church or for school.

Personally, I don't much care for Halloween. I'm glad its over for another year. But I care even less for tard-minded folks who care more about monkeying with my life and traditions than abiding by their own "beliefs". If it rocks your world that much, then keep the kids inside, turn off the porch light, and find something for them to do more in line with your convictions.

TMC

Ah-CHOO! You got the new flu?

2010-10-14T14:43:00.001-05:00

Once again, my employer is offering free flu shots. They are giving us plenty of opportunities to get the shot and pitching the benefits of getting it. Unlike other types of communications in our company, however, the repeated flu shot promotion is already beginning to hit fever pitch. My inbox is receiving at least 3 to 4 e-mails per week offering - emphasizing - stressing - cajoling each employee to get one.

I work at the corporate office of a healthcare organization. That's right - I'm simply an overhead cost with no patient interaction. So while there is little risk to my catching the flu and passing it to a patient, I suppose I do run the risk of making my co-workers sick or vice versa.

Yet, I'm declining the shot as I do each year. Whether I'm lucky or good, I haven't contracted the flu before. Call me superstitious, smart, or an idiot, but I'm still not planning to get it - the flu or the shot. Last year (and again this year), we were at least presented an alternative: (1) get the shot ya stinkin' conformist or (2) wear a mask if you leave the corporate office for any reason.

But I am curious what strain we'll have this year. Certainly, the U.S. will see its share of traditional flu cases - the Coke Classic if you will of the flu strain. In addition, however, the flu has gone a bit chic the last couple of years with a bonus flu.

Two years ago, we all heard rumors of the bird flu. I'm not sure it ever developed though a co-worker or two was quite certain they nearly died of the stuff at least a couple of times.

Last year, the flu everyone had to have was the Andy Warhollish, 15-minutes-of-fame Swine Flu. Remember this one? Perfectly good bacon sources were slaughtered all over the world once someone in a neighborhood caught the sniffles and bought a bottle of Tussin.

Because I've chosen not to get the flu shot, I feel a bit out of the loop. I readily admit I'm not as hip about this year's Critter Flu as folks around me flocking like lemmings to willingly get stuck. I haven't heard about FLU 2010. So I'm left wondering about what poor, helpless life form may shoulder the blame for this year's flu crisis. Will it be....

The Possum Flu - This type of flu likely hits you right about the time you cross a street at night on your way to the drug store for Tamiflu. You see the on-coming lights of a car while running a fever, and *boom* down you go. The upside of this strain is the symptoms disappear quickly. Once the car is gone, you can generally arise and continue on your merry way.

The Spider Flu - This strain has the potential to cause many folks to miss work repeatedly during the winter because the funk can settle into a pair of legs up to four times a season. Also, its rumored this strain spawns a reddish, hour-glass shaped rash on your abdomen.

The Praying Mantis Flu - If this one develops as expected, look out. This strain is slow to show its symptoms and normally only affects women. A woman harboring the PMF virus generally doesn't know she's contracted it. But after a sex session with a man, PMF becomes very apparent to her when she bites the head off her mate. Sadly, her man's final words are likely "dear, how long have you had that sniffle?"

The Ostrich Flu - A spin-off of the bird flu, this strain is a bit milder than the others. Two temporary but painful and unsightly symptoms are the elongation of the neck and rapid growth of a fat ass. Also, the stress brought on by the ostrich flu results in the patient mentally withdrawing from all reality around him or her - putting their "head in the sand" if you will.

Despite the risks of Flu 101 and Nouveau Flu, I remain committed to declining the shot. The decision about your getting one, however, can be made by only one person: YOU. Well technically if you work or are married to a woman, this isn't exactly true. Odds are against you as your wife or boss may force you to get one. But you understand the point I hope.

With apologies to John Lennon: I am the eggman. I am the walrus. Flu, flu, ah-choo!

TMC

Rush road trip: Thus endeth the bloggeth

2010-10-07T21:57:00.001-05:00

Brought to you by the letter æ.

Sailing through the ticket scanners was no biggie. (By the way, aren't you glad all those sadists are gone - the ones who took such great delight in ripping your ticket right at the band name or venue location?) We drew a bead on our seats as Rush had now moved on to its second number, Time Stands Still. Because this is one of two songs I actually don't particularly like, I wasn't bothered to miss it as we got settled. For the record, the other one I don't like is Big Money. Its Rush's equivalent of Van Halen's Jump.

Here Again I was at a Rush concert. The crowd was clearly In The Mood, the view from our seats was really good, and the night air from the clear night sky was fantastic. I could see each of the band members pretty well - especially Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson; however, having the three mega-screens still added a lot to the show. The camera crew was really good at zooming in on the hands and feet of Geddy and Alex during various solos. And the techs and board staff did their job to perfection with Geddy's equipment. His bass sound was impeccable - yet it didn't overpower Alex's guitars or Neil's drums.

A camera angled to the right of Neil Peart's bass drum presented some good shots. However, they also had a camera above Peart - which should have provided the best view of his chops. Unfortunately, from our seats, the lighting was terrible. The few times the overhead shot was on the screens, it was very difficult to see the details of his work. A minor inconvenience...

Source: Mucho gracias gnumoon

Upon first glance, I thought it was incredibly cool to see Ged sporting a Rush shirt with the logo from their debut album 35+ years ago. But with a second, longer look, I realized it said RASH on it. Even better! I do wonder if the long-sleeve shirt he wore was a rash guard to protect him from the Rash shirt?

Source: MSNBC

Geddy is pushing 60 - SIXTY. Yet, his bass playing skills are simply amazing. I've always listened in awe to Peart's drumming, and I had a respect for Geddy's playing - though not at the same level as I had for Peart. But he's definitely narrowed the gap. Its jaw-dropping to watch him play some incredible riffs and solos ... while working foot pedals ... while balancing bass lines with keyboard parts ... while remembering to sing the correct lyrics from about 35 years of recording.

After their first set was completed, the band took a break and so did I. Off to the bathroom, merch booth, and beer stand I went. At my age - with the exception of Rush - I now generally prefer my live music as singer-songwriters in small venues/clubs. This show reinforced a few of the reasons I've drifted that way over the last couple of decades: longer merch lines staffed by busy folks who really don't care, overpriced and uninteresting beer, and lack of interaction with the artist. Who wants to buy a $40 t-shirt and $8 Bud Light when I can buy $4 Shiners and a $15 CD autographed by Hayes Carll?

...and the ~~meek~~ beer shall inherit the earth...

When the Time Machine tour was announced, the big news was Rush planned to play all of Moving Pictures as part of the set list. Songs such as Tom Sawyer and Limelight have been set list staples from the get-go, but other songs such as The Camera Eye, Witch Hunt, and Vital Signs haven't historically been played nearly as often. Because I really wanted to enjoy the show free of bias from others, I refrained from reading show reviews, didn't watch any YouTube clips, and didn't download any bootlegs. Three wise decisions on my part I think.

Hearing The Camera Eye was a great treat. Listening to the lyrics with a fresh perspective and watching the big screen images of New York City and London in a post-9/11 world made the song a bit more prophetic and surreal.

Did you spot the "major award" from A Christmas Story at the :30 mark?

Hearing and watching Peart's drum solos never gets old. His performance is almost an optical illusion - frequently, I hear rhythms that quite frankly I don't see him play. One portion of his solo that's been around for a number of years simply blows me away. He rocks a 3/4 beat using his bass drum and high-hat pedals while playing multiple toms in a 4/4 time signature. The degree of difficulty puts the combo of patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time to shame. Its simply not fair.

After playing on his more conventional, traditional set, he turned and sat on his throne facing the other direction as a 2nd drum set designed for the tour rotated around to face the audience. (Transition happens about 2 minute mark in the video below.) The bass drum was significantly smaller than his regular one. And one mounted tom seemed even to be bigger than the bass drum. The ability of the guy to continually re-invent himself, his skills, and even his drumming equipment just leaves me wondering how he does it over and over - similar to my wonderment of why people still buy Peeps at Easter.

Photo source: HoldYourFireAl's SmugMug page

The second and final encore song to close the night was Working Man - a Rush classic from their original self-titled debut album. Rather than start it as normal, the first stanza and chorus were played reggae style. I'm not a big reggae fan, and I'm a big fan of Working Man. So if you'd asked me if I'd like that combo entering the gates, I'd say no. Yet it worked. Very unconventional - but it was good. After the initial chorus, Alex led them back to the classic arrangement. Having WM as the closer was appropriate. It kind of cements why I'm still a big fan. Although Rush is not above some experimentation with musical influences, song lengths, and themes, they've stayed with a core sound from the early 1970s to present day.

During the encore of LaVilla and Working Man, I started feeling a mist. Earlier in the day, the weather forecast showed a nominal 10% chance of rain. So, surely it couldn't be raining - besides, we were in the covered seating. Initially, I convinced myself the moisture was from a misting system in the rafters of the amphitheater's covered seating area. I realize now the prophetic nature of the opening lyrics from Witch Hunt:

The night is black, without a moon
The air is thick and still

When the show ended and we turned to head for the car, it was pouring! The 10% forecast of rain suddenly became a 100% reality of us getting drenched.

Good news: Wet t-shirt contest!
Bad news: It was a Rush show. 90% of the crowd was male.

Video clips, song title drops, attempts at humor that perhaps made only me laugh, and yet you want more? How about some show photos? I found this Photobucket album tonight where some great pictures were shared.

A few show oddities - things that confused me but may be perfectly logical to those who've seen the band far more often than twice in 26 years:

During The Camera Eye, one image shown on the screen was an ear of corn. I don't get it.
Early in the show, a maid...pushing a shopping cart onto the stage...tossed rubber chickens...into the washing machines...that was making sausage. Completely random? Or is this some sort of metaphorical pretzel I can't untwist?
A baby carriage made repeat appearances on the video screens during the show. Why? We came up with a couple of possible, plausible reasons, but I'm interested to hear feedback from others.
Unless my eyes deceived me, someone dressed in a bear suit made a couple of laps on a bicycle around the stage as the band was playing. Maybe I was just Losing It at that point of the show.

Knowing I wanted to compose a blog entry or two about the show, I made a few show notes old school style - pen and paper - to supplement my tweets and texts. Guess this proves I'm still trying to balance between being The Analog Kid and a New World Man.

Did I leave wanting more? Sure, there were plenty of songs I wish they'd included in the set list. But the trio did give us two and a half hours of great rock spanning almost four decades. So In The End, to ask for more would be expecting Something For Nothing.

With the show less than 15 minutes behind us, the conversation turned to "where next?" The conventional wisdom is Rush will return to the studio to finish their in-progress album and then tour again in 2011 with an updated set list. Will I get to see them again? Who knows. I Hope so. But if not, I'll shed no Tears as I still had One Little Victory by waiting a quarter-century for my second concert.

OK, I'm Losing It. Review done. Test for Echo. Out. [white noise.....................]

TMC

Rush road trip: Part IV of a 2-part trilogy

2010-10-06T23:23:00.000-05:00

Summer 1978 - Trader's Post classifieds in Nashville, TN:

Ludwig 5 piece blue drum set used primarily in session work
Zildjian 24" ride, 17" crash, and 14" high-hat cymbals
Throne, hard shell cases, gig bag and extra hardware included
$400 firm

With a few hundred dollars from mowing lawns squirreled away at Commerce Union Bank, I talked over the ad with my mother, withdrew the money from my savings account, and had her drive me to buy myself a drum kit.

I set it up in the bedroom shared with my brother. The dimensions of our room weren't that big, and I quickly claimed eminent domain over about 40 percent of the floorspace. Once assembled, I spent that evening and most afternoons the next two years jamming to LPs and 8-tracks played on my bitchin' Radio Shack stereo. KISS, Journey, Skynyrd, a new band discovered by Gene Simmons called Van Halen, ELO, Boston, Peter Frampton, Aerosmith's "Toys In The Attic", and Deep Purple.

That was my drumming M.O. until the spring of 1980 - the wrap-up of my freshman year of high school. Thrashing the skins as if I was Keith Moon - though the reality is I probably had drumming skills more like Sun Myung Moon. Then a friend of mine asked me if I'd learned the drum part to Spirit of the Radio yet. What? Who is that by? Rush man! Don't you have Hemispheres?? La Villa? buh domp, ba doomp, bon bon bommmm, bon bon bommmm.

I borrowed the 8-track of Permanent Waves from my friend, listened to it through headphones as I sat behind my bass and snare, and didn't lift a stick. Finally, I stood to clunk through channels 2, 3, and 4 so the tape would eventually loop back to channel 1 to replay Spirit. (If you ever had an 8-track, you'll understand the verb "clunk".)

I was hooked. Feeble attempts were made to mimic Neil Peart's licks - including a few impromptu Lessons from friends who thought they had them down (they didn't). I had but a Ghost of a Chance of ever actually matching his skills. Then my buying spree began:

Permanent Waves on LP. Done.
Back track to 2112. Done.
All The World's A Stage - double live LP. Done.
Then back to present (at that time): Moving Pictures, Signals, Grace Under Pressure, etc.

As I blogged last week, I finally saw them live in 1984. I would never have guess that 1984 would be the only time to see them live ... until last week. 26 years later. I have to admit it was a bit surreal making plans to see the band I began listening to 30 years ago. Yet thinking about it now, it was really only about 3.25 Dog Years since I'd last seen them. Not bad.

The Countdown to see them again began about 5 or 6 months ago. When the Time Machine tour was announced, a friend of mine and his brother immediately committed to going. Fortunately for me, he decided to Take A Friend. So the three of us left our middle Tennessee Subdivisions last Wednesday AM with a playlist of classic Rush tunes, some high-end beer wrapped to stay cold in a soft-sided cooler, stories of how we enjoyed the band over the years, and various ideas for Making Memories during this overnight trip. One thing was certain. Having a steady salary from many years as a Working Man was going to allow me to more fully enjoy the 2010 show vs. what I could afford with my meager college budget in 1984.

Once settled in Atlanta, we met up with the rest of our traveling contingent. The carpooling crew consisted of 5 of us. Four guys, 1 woman. 80/20. Yep, it was a pretty representative sample of what was expected as the male/female crowd distribution for the evening. We had:

TMC
Friend, Atticus
Atticus' brother and proprietor of Food Furious, Ben
Atticus' cousin, Aaron, by siblings from a different marriage of parents...starting to get a bit dicey here
Ben's cousin, Leila aka gnumoon, but by yet another set of siblings from another marriage...or some sort of Circumstances like that...Bottom line: She and Ben are cousins. And Ben and Atticus are brothers. Yet, Atticus and Leila aren't cousins. Wait, the room is spinning. Can't figure this out. Confusion reigns! Mayday, mayday.

In the end, the best catch-all phrase I can now affectionately apply to all my new friends is they are all somehow related as Courthouse Cousins.

After a couple of introductory, how-are-ya? beers at our hotel, we were off to Mission number 1: dinner at The Vortex in Atlanta's Little Five Points. There we met up with two more fans - Carl and Rachel - neither of whom are related to the Courthouse Cousins. But since I had no known relatives on the trip, perhaps the two of them were my CHC.

The Vortex had some really interesting burger and beer choices. Ben settled on the Hell Burger with hot pepper cheese and a jalapeno/habanero pepper relish. Atticus downed the Coronary Bypass - a burger with a fried egg, a few strips of bacon, and several slices of cheese. And after a debate with Carl as to which one of us would get it, I finally decided to Roll The Bones and order The Elvis burger:

Source: Thanks for the snap Leila.

As a joke, I almost ordered a salad with vinaigrette dressing as my side item plus a Diet Coke. But I didn't and chose tots and a large Sweetwater IPA instead. In retrospect, I wish I had ordered what others at our table got - sweet potato tots! Somehow I overlooked this as an option - too busy I suppose scheming a bad joke vs. focusing on the matter at hand.

Source: Leila with the opportunistic timing

We likely stayed at The Vortex one beer too long. Traffic was terrible. We underestimated the time it would take in Finding My Our Way to the venue and get parked at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater at Encore Park. (For just one lousy night, couldn't they have renamed the place Lakeside Park? But I digress...)

Full of the Elvis Burger and an afternoon of Sweetwater IPAs, favoring a bum knee, but with Vital Signs peaking, we sprint-walked to the front gate. While doing so, I could hear the faint but unmistakable notes of the first song I heard by the band 30 years ago - The Spirit of Radio.

To be continued...

TMC

Continuing Education Memorable Moments: The Sequel

2010-10-02T22:34:00.003-05:00

Last year around this time, I blogged my list of most awkward moments from our annual department continuing education seminar. This year was my fourteenth such event. Once again, all 130 or so of us spent four days together in early September off-site at a state park for training, company updates, obligatory team building activities, and late night "social festivities".

Several days ago, Ozzy Nelson (click to follow him on Twitter) blogged the details of one of his memorable moments from this year - one of his own making! I'd now like to blog a few of my most memorable moments of the week.

One of our speakers presented on the subject of Accounting for Impaired Assets. The subject was quite appropriate considering the hungover status of much of his audience.

A motivational speaker urged us to shoot for an epic failure and study lousy customer service. (Actually, the guy was quite funny AND had a meaningful point at the end of his presentation re: the aligning of failure and success.)

Multiple 20-somethings informed me they'd never heard of Wendy’s “Where’s The Beef?” ad campaign.

PowerPoint FAIL - by a PricewaterhouseCoopers statistician. (OK, so maybe its a double-fail. I don't know.) This fellow works for what is known as a Big 4 public accounting firm. These folks know accounting, tax, technology, economics, business and personal financial planning, etc. But one thing is clear - they don't know JACK SQUAT about composing a PowerPoint presentation. Did he really think delivering about 50 slides of 8 point font and 200 words per slide with teal-colored font on a white background for a 50 minute presentation was going to work? The only things missing were overdone animation and swishing sound effects.

Everyone was asked to dress up for 80s night for our gathering at a local restaurant-beach club-dance hall-bar thing place joint. Two male co-workers showed up with bras on their heads a la Weird Science. This memorable moment could have become an unforgettable moment had they been able to bring Kelly LeBrock with them.

After the bra-men worked the room a while, I then got an overview of bra shopping and fitting tips from a female co-worker. Shortly after this informative session, I inhaled, then exhaled, and nodded to our bartender to say "Another beer here please? Um, better make that two."

The hired cover band - Rubik's Groove - kicked off Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield. I grimaced at the sound of 80+ people on the dance floor shrieking with glee as the band hit the opening riff. In my opinion, the song was a pretty rotten one when it was released. As far as I'm concerned, it hasn't improved with age. For crying out loud, the singer was an actor on the General Hospital soap opera! I was stunned at the number of our younger staff who not only had heard of it but screamed delightedly and danced merrily as the band played it. This poor, poor generation...

A co-worker made a chest wig from hair he shaved off his dog. He had several co-workers stroke it. Sadly, a few of them believed the hair to be his own! While not explicitly saying who did this, you can discern it from... cough... namenearstartofthisblogentry... cough.

The lead singer of the band went into the audience with his wireless mic. (If it had been a true 80s band, they would still have used corded microphones and slung them around like Roger Daltrey or Iggy Pop. But I digress.) He approached one of our female staffers who wanted less than zero part of his attention. She tried to feign interest in him - including acting like she was texting someone. But he stuck with it and yelled up at the band “Hey guys, guess what she’s doing. She’s texting someone back here.” Another co-worker - who was truly enjoying her frequent visits from our waitresses - leaned in and asked “did he just say she was tasting someone?”

On the return shuttle trip from our 80s night event, multiple co-workers started belting out a lusty, off-key, a capella rendition of Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer. After making it through the chorus, the loud voice of a lone female sitting next to one of our department VPs suddenly jumped up and interrupted with "Hey mutha f*****rs, everybody sing Windows to the Wallllll!" A unison laugh resulted - followed by a noticeable pregnant pause - followed by someone thankfully kicking off Journey's Don't Stop Believing.

During one of our late nights of "social festivities", another co-worker presented her case to me of the benefits of stripper pole exercising. It wasn't really a debate - I certainly wasn't presenting any counter-arguments. I merely listened intently, asked a few clarifying questions, agreed with every point made, and wholeheartedly supported her endeavor.

With each passing year, I realize more and more how past my prime I am in terms of hanging with the younger crowd. Yet sitting back and absorbing memorable moments such as these keeps me Forever Young (Rod Stewart - 1988 - 80s theme continuance).

For the record, my get-up for 80s night consisted of a Member's Only jacket adorned with buttons of Where's The Beef?, I Want My MTV, and the 1982 World's Fair.

For those who grew up in Nashville in the 1980s, you may also understand this one - one of Carl P. Mayfield's alter-egos:

To complete my ensemble, I snapped a SONY Walkman cassette player to my belt - complete with Synchronicity by The Police.
From time to time, I think I've had enough. Find something else to do - within or outside the company. Yet, sitting around with a smirk on my face, a willingness to observe and listen, and watch others 20 years younger than me rattle off an arsenal of career-limiting moves is generally enough to motivate me to stick around for one more year, one more year, one more year...

TMC

Ready to Rush to Atlanta

2010-09-27T15:30:00.001-05:00

Two days from now, a friend of mine, his brother, and I will head for Atlanta to see Rush. It'll be my first time to see them live since 1984. As I recall, 1984 was a pretty good year for concerts for me:

KISS playing their first tour without makeup for Lick It Up (in retrospect, that title sounds like it could have been released by Spinal Tap as a follow up to Smell The Glove),
the David Lee Roth-fronted Van Halen supporting the appropriately named 1984, and
Rush with Grace Under Pressure.

I saw all three of those shows at Nashville's Municipal Auditorium - that dump of a still-standing government public works facility terrible for show when it was built and remains so today. But it was all we had at the time.

I remember buying a souvenir "muscle shirt". The style was popular at the time. Yet with 25+ years of hindsight perspective, I really don't have a clue as to why I parted with perfectly good beer money for such a silly shirt.

One, anyone who has seen me - then or now - knows I'm not exactly sporting the guns. No other muscle shirts have ever been in my closest or drawers - prior to this purchase or after it. I don't even have any ripped flannels like Larry the Cable Guy.
Two, I think I bought this style because I didn't like the alternative - the concert jersey. Again, this was a popular option at concerts from that era. So rather than keep my money in my pocket, I impulsively but stupidly bought the muscle shirt and wore it probably a grand total of 3 times.
Three, the shirt included a unique feature - glow-in-the-dark lettering for the GUP logo. In 1984, nothing said "helloooo laaaadies" quite like a short, young male with skinny arms rocking a glow-in-the-dark, geek-rock shirt.

This time I'll be seeing Geddy, Alex, and Neil at someplace awkwardly named Verizon Wireless Amphitheater at Encore Park. Look, Municipal Auditorium may have been a dump, but at least we could easily and affectionately shorten its name to "Municipal" or "Muni". How in the world 20 years from now am I going to shorten the name of the 2010 place? The cell phone joint?

More to follow...

TMC

Uneven Steven

2010-09-26T23:05:00.005-05:00

Last Thursday, I worked the concession stand at a Nashville Predators pre-season hockey game as a fund raiser for my son's high school band. Individuals from non-profit organizations work the stands, and a cut of the night's revenue goes to support the organization's mission. In our case, the overall nightly take is allocated evenly to an account for each person working the event.

We don't yet have our final numbers for last Thursday; however, its estimated I likely earned about $55 for my son's account to use for band expenses.

On the way home about two miles away from the arena, a Nashville policeman decided he'd rather shoot radar from a dark parking lot rather than root out drug deals likely taking place 100 yards in any direction from where he was sitting in his patrol car.

He said I was going about 10 miles over the speed limit. I'm not sure if I was or not; however, I thought most cops gave you a bit of an overage buffer anyway.

Cost of the ticket he wrote me - whether I pay the fine or the costs of traffic school as an alternative? Fifty dollars.

That's right. When all is said and done, I'll likely net about a Lincoln for seven hours of serving hot dogs, nachos, and Labatt's Blue. I could likely have made more per hour working in a clothing factory in a third world country.

Que sara sara.

TMC

Baltimore Oddities

2010-09-20T21:57:00.003-05:00

In 1966, Tompall Glazer and Harlan Howard wrote the much covered song Streets of Baltimore. The song has been recorded by many singers including one of my favorite, contemporary Americana bands...Red Meat, Charley Price, Gram Parsons, and Bobby Bare, who was the first to have a hit with the song.

Last week, I made my second trip to Baltimore. I don't have a lot of memories from my first trip about 8 or 9 years ago. Nothing good or bad - just nothing memorable has stuck with me. I remember staying near Johns Hopkins and realizing for the first time Edgar Allan Poe once lived there. It finally connected with me why the team formerly known as the Cleveland Browns was renamed the Baltimore RAVENS. Duh, I thought. What took you so long?

This time, I was a bit more prepared for my visit. As I wrote at my racing-themed, companion blog Bench Racing, I stockpiled a large number of Schaefer beer memories while in Baltimore. But I noted a few other oddities while in town beyond procuring Schaefer beer.

Oddity No. 1: TMC getting a major award. The purpose of my trip was to attend a work-related training conference as well as lead a session on the uses, benefits, risks, and challenges of social media. I was humbled to receive not just one - but two - awards as the organization's session leader for my presentation at last year's conference and author of the year for an article I wrote earlier this year. This. never. happens. Very cool - very flattering - very humbling. (Despite the recognition, I must confess some disappointment. When I heard my name as the winner of a major award, I didn't think of an engraved plaque. I was thinking leg lamp!)
Oddity No. 2: The U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Taney - the last surviving, floating ship from Pearl Harbor. Standing on the dock looking at this boat make you realize you are staring at history. Yet, because its the sole, remaining ship from December 7, 1941, I viewed the ship as a Baltimore oddity.

Photo source: Wikipedia

Oddity No. 3: TMC at a baseball game. I'm not a baseball fan. I don't hate it, but I just don't like it. For many years, I kept up with it from a distance just for casual conversation. Who are the division leaders? Who has the most home runs this year? Who has the hot hand on the mound? But no more - I really haven't followed it much at all. I love NASCAR, the NHL, and college and pro football. But baseball? Ehhhh. Generally speaking, however, I will concede I enjoy a night out at a ball park more than I do a game at a football stadium or hockey rink. And what a perfect early fall evening it was to visit Camden Yards.

Oddity No. 4: Big bats by the Orioles. For a team that hasn't exactly piled up the W's in recent years (trying to be kind here), the Orioles plucked the visiting Toronto Blue Jays with 11 runs.

Oddity No. 5: Solid pitching by the Orioles. Baltimore's pitchers scattered only 3 runs over the nine innings. New skipper Buck Showalter has the team believing it can win. (Oddity 5a: With all things having a Nashville connection, its worth noting Baltimore manager Showalter played minor league baseball with the Nashville Sounds about 30 years ago.)

My hotel was on Light St. near the Baltimore harbor. I spent part of my Sunday afternoon walking along Light St., observing the businesses, surveying restaurant menus, and looking for package stores selling Schaefer. Based on the following oddities, perhaps it should have been called EnLIGHTenment St.

Oddity No. 6: Elvis' Tex-Mex. I really wanted to eat lunch at this place based simply on the name, Sadly, however, the place was closed on Sunday when I arrived. I wanted to find out if they served a fried peanut butter and banana chimichanga.

Oddity No. 7: Doggie Style. This place was open. I didn't enter. I do find it interesting, however, how they're trying to catch the consumer's eye with the reverse second G. Isn't that an example of marketing overkill? And what's with "grooming" as the smaller font disclaimer? Once you've gone gutter with your store name, is there a way to come back from that?

I'll end it here since seven is an odd number. Kind of an odd ending wouldn't you say?

TMC

Poetry by my daughter

2010-09-17T20:23:00.001-05:00

My daughter wrote this for her language arts class. I think I may go now. And weep a bit of joy. And hug my little girl. And smile.

I Am From Home

I am from dinner parties, filled with fun and friends.
From Mexican foods, steaming with mouthwatering goodness,
From a loving, caring family who makes sure to protect me.
I am from this and much more.

I am from a brick wall family.
I am the mortar between the bricks,
Holding everything together.
I keep us sturdy.

I am from a 2-story red brick house with a deck.
From “Fair is a bunch of rides and cotton candy”,
From a Blue’s Clues based childhood.
I am from my quiet and comfy bedroom.

I am from a cross inscribed with “Bless This Cat”.
From a cat-shaped candle on top of birthday cakes,
From taunting my brother by ‘hearing’ ghosts.
I am from a smart, logical family.

I am from a family with a brother who I admire.
One who is smart and nice to everyone.
A brother who is talented in many ways.
Someone I can trust.

TMC

Customer (Dis)Service

2010-08-26T22:21:00.000-05:00

Everyone has their own version of "dealing with the cable company" story. Here's mine.

We have the Comcast trifecta - cable TV, internet, and telephone. It kills me each month to see the amount of hard earned money going down the rathole to that company.

To their credit, the VOIP phone rollout in our market has gone well. We weren't sure what to expect with sound quality, availability, interaction with alarm system, etc., but its all gone well.

Our internet uptime and speed has been pretty good too. At times, its runs a bit slow. But I've rationalized it thinking (1) maybe I have too many services running on my PC that slows it down (2) everyone on my block also has it which chokes our bandwidth and (3) I still remember 26.4K dial-up.

But the TV package is still the offering that drives me crazy as a loon. Charging for DVRs, charging extra for additional TVs, charging for channels I care absolutely ZERO about, etc. Yet the check gets written every month, and my insanity deepens as I expect something different with each payment.

About 10 days ago - Monday, August 16 - I learned about a show I'd like to watch via Twitter. I wished at that moment for an addressable DVR box where I could queue shows to record via the web. Folks who have Tivo have told me they can do it. I double-checked comcast.net and was pleasantly surprised to learn that very feature is now available. Great, right? Well, not so fast...

Our DVR had to be activated to use it via the web. What? I've got phone, e-mail, internet, digital cable, HD, and a DVR - yet the information isn't all tied together to already have it enabled? Fine. So I activated it. The confirmation screen then said to allow up to 24 hours for the activation to process. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS??? So much for my show - and so much for the theory of better-faster-cheaper with the use of Comcast's technology.

While I wasn't able to remotely record the show I wanteed, at least I could begin doing so the next day, right? ERRRRRR. Wrong. The activation wasn't processed on Tuesday. Nor on Wednesday.

At the 48 hour mark Wednesday, I headed to Comcast's tech support chat room during my lunch hour in hopes of resolving the issue. What follows is the transcript of the chat session with the resident tech support moron, Jaymark.

Because of the length of the transcript, I'll highlight a few of the more compelling nuggets - at least to me.

user TMC has entered room

TMC: Requested activation of MyDVR Manager Monday. Was told it would take 24 hrs. 48 hrs later and its STILL not done.

analyst Jaymark has entered room

Jaymark: Hello TMC, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Jaymark. Please give me one moment to review your information. How are you? I hope you are fine.

TMC: fine

Jaymark: That is good to know TMC. I see here that you have a concern or problem with your MyDVR Manager, I understand the trouble that this has caused you and I want you to know how sorry I am for the inconvenience (note: empathy #1 and apology #1). As your service representative today, I want you to know that your satisfaction is of my topmost priority and I assure you that we can resolve this issue together on this chat, TMC.

TMC: activating it on-line is convenient - I did my part. comcast has not done their part by activating it w/in 24 hrs. i shouldn't have to come to a chat room to resolve such a ridiculously simple request

Jaymark: I completely understand how frustrated you must feel.(empathy #2) When I am not at work, I am a customer myself; I completely understand how frustrating it feels when things are not working the way they should be. (empathy #3)

TMC: just activate it so I can get back to work jaymark

Jaymark: No problem TMC. I will need to pull your account first to provide you proper informations on your issue today, is that okay? I am glad to be able to assist you. To ensure the integrity of your account information. Can I please have the following information:
1) Account Number.
2) Full Account Name.

TMC: jaymark - you must be kidding me. I logged in to this web service and chat room with my user name and password. now you are telling me you can't view my account info from where you are? i don't have my a/c number w/me

Jaymark: No TMC. Just provide me your Account Holder Name. Thank you so much for that information. Please give me 2 minutes to access your account.

TMC: i can find a/c number though - but that's ridiculous you have to ask for it. forgive my hostility but its crap like this that gives cable a bad rep

Jaymark: Sorry for that TMC. (apology #2) I cannot see your username and password for myDVR, can you please provide me this information.

TMC: i just gave you my a/c number and name. i don't have a username and pw for myDVR

Jaymark: I see TMC. For that you need to log-in to check you MyDVR Manager on our Site so you can see if it has already been activated.

TMC: jaymark - i'm going to pretend like you didn't just ask me to ck if myDVR has been activated. BECAUSE THAT WAS MY OPENING LINE TO THIS SESSION!!!!!!!!!! IT HASN'T BEEN ACTIVATED JAYMARK

Jaymark: I will try to look for your primary username TMC to be able to log-in to Fancast for myDVR Manager. However I do not have the password information. I can see here that this is your primary username for your account. *****@comcast.net

TMC: correct

Jaymark: But I will need a password for this.

TMC: no way. i don't give out my passwords. why would you need my password anyway?

Jaymark: So that I can check in fancast.com the status of your MyDVR activation.(with a link) You can try that link TMC to see the update on your MyDVR status.

TMC: this is ridiculous. that link takes me to a 'page expired' page. i see that MyDVR has not been activated Jaymark and you want me to cough up my password

Jaymark: Click sign-in mydvr

TMC: guess what - it tells me what I've been telling you for the last 15 min. NOT ACTIVATED

Jaymark: Try it there TMC. Sorry for the inconvenience.(apology #3)

TMC: i'm getting nowhere - how can it be that much trouble? don't customers activate MyDVR daily?

Jaymark: No TMC. You only need to activate it once. However the span time for that is with 24 to 48 hours, However I can see here in your issue that it hasn't been activated yet.

Jaymark: I am very sorry for the inconvenience.(apology #4) I completely understand how frustrated you must feel.(empathy #4) TMC, for a follow-up I will send a signal to your dvr, may I know the serial number, just in case this will work.

TMC: once again, i don't understand how a tech/customer support function can't view serial numbers of equipment leased to me

Jaymark: Sorry for that TMC.(apology #5) I am just double checking the right equipment. Okay after I send the signal, can you please turn it off for awhile. I am now done sending the signal TMC. You can now check it.

TMC: as I've mentioned already, I'm not at my DVR. can't turn it off here -will have to ck this evening. but on-line it STILL says MyDVR manager not activated

Jaymark: I understamd TMC. (empathy #5) You can check it after when you get home. I see TMC sorry for the inconvenience. (apology #6) I am here to help you and provide you support with your Comcast Services.

TMC: this has been frustrating beyond belief. just spent 30 or more minutes on this problem. the goal - even as you stated - was to resolve my problem in this session

Jaymark: When I am not at work, I am a customer myself; I completely understand how frustrating it feels when things are not working the way they should be. (empathy #6)

TMC: yet MyDVR manager still says it isn't activated

Jaymark: I am sorry TMC, (apology #7) Honestly I have no total control of the activation of your MyDVR activation, due to this is automated by a system to be activated.

TMC: apologies and empathy aren't needed - problem resolution was needed

Jaymark: The only assistance I can provide you is the check-up of the activation and setting up of it and the signal to your Cable boxes.

TMC: u could have saved both of us time if you'd told me you couldn't resolve the problem from the beginning!!!!

Jaymark: I understand TMC. (empathy #7) I do apologize for the incovenience. (apology #8) I hope you understand.

TMC: ok. i've had enough.

About two-thirds of the way through this time-wasting, mind-numbing exercise, I fired up Twitter and blasted off a few shots across the bow of @comcastcares.

Tweet #1: @comcastcares Is it really that difficult to activate MyDVR? Isn't 24 hours less than 48 hrs and counting?

Tweet #2: @comcastcares Is it too much to ask your chat techs to actually read & respond to my inquiry vs. asking me stupid and repeat questions?

Tweet #3: @comcastcares I'd like 40 minutes of my life back. Back & forth w/your tech. Prob still unresolved. Apologies/empathy but no solution.

Perhaps as an example of companies using social media such as Twitter to enhance customer service, someone from Comcast was trolling - either the account of @comcastcares or maybe just the keyword "comcast".

Bonnie replied and asked what was wrong. I was happy someone picked up on it. I suggested we move my complaining to a private conversation so my followers wouldn't be subjected to the rantings of a frustrated DVR user and dissatisfied Comcast customer.

She then asked for my phone number on the account so she could look up the situation. So I provided it. And then...

...nothing.

Yep, I was right back where I started.

I waited a few hours and tweeted her again with "was it something I said?". She responded soon to say they were looking at the problem on their end. Was it too much to ask her or someone to let me know that?

Finally, on Thursday evening - almost 80 hours after my original request - my DVR was activated. I queued a show to record. Sure enough, it worked just as designed. And for the record, I tweeted a "thank you" to Bonnie. Even though she nor anyone else communicated with me about the status, I communicated with them when it worked.

But now I've been too dadgum busy and tired to even care to watch what I've recorded.

TMC

Nashville's Floods: 100 days later

2010-08-18T20:03:00.004-05:00

Has it really been 100 days? From May 1-3, 2010, over 13 inches of rain fell on Nashville, TN and neighboring communities. Once the rains stopped, then the trouble really began. Rainwater ran to the streams and rivers. Lakes had to be lowered through dams adding to the surging river waters.

Many homes and businesses were lost. Some have returned. Some were destroyed and will likely not return. The damage has been well documented - even if it wasn't well covered by media outside of Tennessee.

A friend of mine, Denny Rudolph, was inspired to write a song not only by the stunning events of the flood but more important by the amazing ways in which folks from the mid-state rallied to help one another.

Middle Tennessee has been my home for all but 9 years of my life. Its a spectacular place to call home with spectacular people to call family, friends, and neighbors.

TMC

Sea kayaking entry 6: Headed for home

2010-08-09T20:21:00.000-05:00

Sixth and last in a series...

To paddle backwards...

With a 10:30 AM ferry departure, the crew was finally able to awaken on their own terms. However, with the rising sun and quickly rising temperatures, most were up shortly after dawn. The adults took shifts walking about a half-mile to a nice coffee shop for a hot cup of premium coffee and toasted bagel. Ahhhhh.

Mid-morning, everyone hoisted their gear on their shoulders and into their hands and trekked back to the ferry dock. We were not as rushed on the return trip as we were going to Ocracoke.

Upon reaching mainland again two hours later, the base camp vans arrived to greet us ... and assign us chores. All kayaks, boat gear, personal gear, and crew gear we'd left behind a day earlier had to be loaded and secured. Most folks pitched in to quickly load the gear. A few decided they wanted to sit in the shade or in the vans until we were ready to go - or so they thought. A few "tough love" words of "GET OUT HERE AND WORK LIKE THE REST OF US!" was about all it took to get their priorities back in order. In short order, we were on our way for a return trip to base camp. Most caught up on some much-needed and much-deserved rest.

Upon arriving at base camp, all gear had to be unloaded, cleaned, and hung to dry so it could be re-deployed to other crews the next week.. The camp staff estimated 2 hours would be needed to complete the cleaning. Instead, it only took 45 minutes with the 3 troops working cooperatively and efficiently. All troops were congratulated by the staff for the collective hard work.

The troops had a final grilled chicken dinner together. The other two troops showed great scout spirit by deferring their showers until our troop could eat, clean up and hit the road.

After a final group photo and some t-shirt purchases, we were on our way. The captains of the troop armada were headed westward away from the coast. We arrived around midnight at the National Guard armory in Lexington, NC for a night's rest.

As all awoke Saturday morning to head for Charlotte, NC, I caught sight of an STP cap in a display case along the wall. Sure enough, it was autographed by my NASCAR hero - The King Richard Petty. I wished someone had been there to convince them the hat would be much safer in my custody, but that wasn't the case. So all that went with me was a photo.

We boarded the vans for breakfast and a 90 minute ride to Carowinds theme park near Charlotte, NC. While we thought the heat was challenging on the coast, at least we had wind. Inside the concrete jungle of Carowinds, there was little relief from the heat except on roller coasters and constant drinking of water.

The newest ride for the season was The Intimidator - a roller coaster whose theme was based on the late NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt, Sr. One of our dads donned the Intimidator cap and my sunglasses to create our own version of...

URRRRRNNNN-HARRRRRRRTTTT

After a full, draining day at Carowinds, the crew had dinner in Asheville, NC. A phone call was placed to the Clyde Police Department officer whose name we were given a week earlier. Fortunately, the right connections were made and we were back in Clyde City Hall again for the night. It was almost like coming home. Almost.

We got an early start on Sunday morning and stopped for breakfast. My son led a crew prayer to give thanks for the meal, give thanks for a fun and safe week, and ask for a safe journey the remainder of the trip home.

Shortly after noon, the captains returned home. Captains - of boats with christened names such as:

SS Minnow
The Titanic
Flying Dutchman
Red October
Cornelia Marie
The Wizard
El Diablo and the Magic Man
the destroyer (for our scout who could destroy a buffet or fast food menu)
the cruiser (for our girl-ogling scout for all the coolness he *tried* to exude)
the carrier (for our smallest scout who hauled 3 bags of gear plus his tent while wearing blue jeans the half-mile from the Ocracoke Ferry to Teeter's Campground and back)

Sure enough, when I got home there it was. The six pack promised me via a text from "the carrier's" dad our first day on the water. A sixer of Italian Peroni - chilled. Plus, the dad gave our family a gift card to our favorite Mexican restaurant.

While the gifts were genuinely appreciated, I did feel a bit sheepish about accepting gifts for a trip on which I had so much fun personally.

Thus endeth the series. Finis.

TMC