Jeez, where to start?
WORK: First 2 nights of Marathon 4 have gone very smoothly. No complaints from me. And at least the AC is still working, as it remains hot here -- in the mid-to-upper 90s. The Girlfriend has me relaxed and thinking about work differently. Like it's OK if I can't fix something in the next 30 seconds, maybe the world won't end. Only 10 more nights to go. And at least two of those 10-hour nights will be ALL OVERTIME....
MOVING: It's Official. I will be completely moved-in with The Girlfriend on Labor Day. Talked it over with The Old Roommate -- he knew it was coming, wasn't surprised, even had a replacement already lined-up. I'm ecstatic, and The Girlfriend is thrilled, and this is actually going to happen within our lifetime. I know where I want to be, and it's right here. The Old Roommate even offered to let me use his truck so I can get the move done all at once, rather than carting a few boxes over now and then and fighting with the furniture. He's really a pretty great guy. Life is really good. I'm so happy I hardly know what to complain about....
TRIP: Portland is the Future! Well, maybe not, but it was a great break -- and I brought back a TON of CD's and a half-ton of books, all of which I'll probably be reporting on here, eventually. Powell's really IS the biggest bookstore I've ever seen, and within an hour I'd easily blown my modest budget.
Also visited one very nice CD shop -- Everyday Music, somewhere on Portland's west side -- and could easily have spent the rest of my life THERE, too.
There were lots of other things I liked about Portland: The pace somehow seems much slower there, MUCH slower than the Seattle area. In two days, I didn't see a single instance of road rage, horns honking, people screaming at each other, anyone driving anyone else off the road, etc. -- stuff I pretty much take for granted in this neighborhood. When we were stuck on the freeway in 90-degree heat, it was just The Girlfriend and I who were getting cranky. And a break for dinner took care of that.
I'm not naive -- there were a number of homeless people, but they weren't aggressive like they are here -- I wasn't held up for spare change. I only saw one meth freak, at the end of the second day, who began shouting threats for no reason and was immediately bounced from the restaurant we were sitting in ... and 10 seconds later the police arrived. I was impressed. It seemed almost ... civilized, there.
I'm not an idiot about stuff like this. And I can be miserable anywhere. But it sure was a nice break. Just getting out of town for awhile maybe did me more good than my vacation awhile back. I sure am relaxed, now. I'm hoping it lasts....
LOVE: Well, it's freakin' great. I have never felt so relaxed and at-ease with anyone, a woman who really GETS me, who has many of the same interests and obsessions, even some of the same hang-ups. We can talk for HOURS and laugh like loons and it's freakin' great. It seems like we've always known each other. She's my best friend. We've been seeing each other for four months -- together pretty-much 24/7 for the last three, and there hasn't been a cross, angry, ugly word between us. So THIS is what all those lovesongs were talkin' about. I recommend it heavily. Five stars.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Friday, August 26, 2016
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Marathon 4 looms
NOW: It's hot here, mid-90s, damn hot for western Washington -- 95 here is like 105 in Idaho. The nights especially remind me of Idaho -- warm but dry, not hideous. It could be worse -- it could be way muggier. But the days are like an oven. There's at least one more 90-degree day coming before summer gives up here. And all the people who were whining that it rained too much in June and July are screaming for relief now.
COMING UP: My 57th birthday is tomorrow, and to celebrate I'll be spending my weekend in Portland, Ore., location of what I'm assured is the World's Biggest Used Bookstore. If I survive that, I'm told there's at least one decent record store in town, too. And I'll be spending all weekend with the woman I love, the best birthday present of all. Can't wait.
NEXT: After Birthday Weekend, I'm scheduled to work the next 12 nights in a row leading up to Labor Day. A couple of those will be longer work-nights than normal. Can't wait. Have been stocking up on new music in preparation for this upcoming stretch. I ain't no spring chicken however, and with the heat most customers at work seem even more pushy than usual. I'm a little pushy these days myself, but I'm trying to watch it.
If things should get too crazy or exhausting at work, you may see an Interruption In Service here at the Back-Up Plan, but I will be doing my best to carry on....
LISTENING: To keep myself sane, have been listening to lots of Aretha Franklin and Steely Dan. Have especially gotten into the choruses of the Dan's "Dirty Work": "I don't want to do your dirty work no more/I'm a fool to do your dirty work, oh yeah." I probably should have been fired years ago. That and the silly non-sequitur comedy of "Pretzel Logic." The angry guitar and lyrics in "Don't Take Me Alive." And of course nobody can top Aretha.
Speaking of non-sequiturs, right now am listening to the Firesign Theatre's SHOES FOR INDUSTRY! best-of. Sometimes unaccountably hilarious. I laugh for reasons I can't explain. The Theatre's DON'T CRUSH THAT DWARF HAND ME THE PLIERS is an old high-school favorite of mine, the greatest comedy album of all time, even if you're not stoned. And this best-of features a big slug of it, thank Ghod, or Columbia/Legacy, or whoever. But I can't stand "Nick Danger."
READING: Trying to read Clive Davis's THE SOUNDTRACK OF MY LIFE (2012). I really enjoyed his much-earlier CLIVE: INSIDE THE RECORD BUSINESS, especially the parts where he tried to take credit for EVERYONE'S success while he was running Columbia Records in the '60s and '70s.
Hey, maybe Clive DID edit and splice-together all those great early Chicago hits. SOMEBODY had to. I can just hear him telling the band, "Guys, if you take out all the dead horn parts and useless solos, you might just have something GOOD here." Too bad he couldn't save stuff like "Just You 'n' Me" or "Saturday in the Park." But at least he let them get away with stuff like "In Terms of Two" and "Critic's Choice."
Clive seems much more modest and much less self-serving in SOUNDTRACKS. But I'm only 10 chapters in, so there's plenty of time for that to change....
COMING UP: My 57th birthday is tomorrow, and to celebrate I'll be spending my weekend in Portland, Ore., location of what I'm assured is the World's Biggest Used Bookstore. If I survive that, I'm told there's at least one decent record store in town, too. And I'll be spending all weekend with the woman I love, the best birthday present of all. Can't wait.
NEXT: After Birthday Weekend, I'm scheduled to work the next 12 nights in a row leading up to Labor Day. A couple of those will be longer work-nights than normal. Can't wait. Have been stocking up on new music in preparation for this upcoming stretch. I ain't no spring chicken however, and with the heat most customers at work seem even more pushy than usual. I'm a little pushy these days myself, but I'm trying to watch it.
If things should get too crazy or exhausting at work, you may see an Interruption In Service here at the Back-Up Plan, but I will be doing my best to carry on....
LISTENING: To keep myself sane, have been listening to lots of Aretha Franklin and Steely Dan. Have especially gotten into the choruses of the Dan's "Dirty Work": "I don't want to do your dirty work no more/I'm a fool to do your dirty work, oh yeah." I probably should have been fired years ago. That and the silly non-sequitur comedy of "Pretzel Logic." The angry guitar and lyrics in "Don't Take Me Alive." And of course nobody can top Aretha.
Speaking of non-sequiturs, right now am listening to the Firesign Theatre's SHOES FOR INDUSTRY! best-of. Sometimes unaccountably hilarious. I laugh for reasons I can't explain. The Theatre's DON'T CRUSH THAT DWARF HAND ME THE PLIERS is an old high-school favorite of mine, the greatest comedy album of all time, even if you're not stoned. And this best-of features a big slug of it, thank Ghod, or Columbia/Legacy, or whoever. But I can't stand "Nick Danger."
READING: Trying to read Clive Davis's THE SOUNDTRACK OF MY LIFE (2012). I really enjoyed his much-earlier CLIVE: INSIDE THE RECORD BUSINESS, especially the parts where he tried to take credit for EVERYONE'S success while he was running Columbia Records in the '60s and '70s.
Hey, maybe Clive DID edit and splice-together all those great early Chicago hits. SOMEBODY had to. I can just hear him telling the band, "Guys, if you take out all the dead horn parts and useless solos, you might just have something GOOD here." Too bad he couldn't save stuff like "Just You 'n' Me" or "Saturday in the Park." But at least he let them get away with stuff like "In Terms of Two" and "Critic's Choice."
Clive seems much more modest and much less self-serving in SOUNDTRACKS. But I'm only 10 chapters in, so there's plenty of time for that to change....
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
#750: Readin' and writin'
Hey there. Sorry I haven't posted much lately. I don't have direct access to the Net at all times anymore, plus I've been busy.
The horror novel I was working on was put on hold a week ago, when I suddenly got an idea out of the blue that might allow me to finish that Rock Group Novel I've been trying to write for years, plus get some of my other lifelong musical obsessions out in some kind of useable form.... Plus, it's a nicer, brighter place than where I was heading in the horror novel. So I'm working on that instead. I'll keep you posted.
Meanwhile, I was reading lots of horror as homework for the novel I was working on -- most of it was pretty forgettable. One big disappointment: Alan Goldsher's silly zombie mash-up novel, PAUL IS UNDEAD -- the previously untold story of The Beatles as zombies, leaders of The British Zombie Invasion. I thought it had real comedy possibilities -- but the cover painting, showing the Fab Four shambling across Abbey Road as parts fall off of them -- promises much more than the book delivers.
I got maybe 100 pages into it before I gave up. It's basically a one-joke book. Everybody either becomes a zombie or gets eaten up by zombies. Goldsher, a session bassist, clearly did his homework, and knows LOTS of trivia about The Beatles -- you'd have to be a big fan just to "get" the book's title. But beyond the one central zombie joke repeated over and over, there's not much here.
I liked the idea of John Lennon and George Harrison living on practically forever as zombies, but ... I just wish Goldsher had done more with his basic idea. Plus, Goldsher's Lennon sounds nothing like John Lennon -- too bad I'd just finished re-reading Lennon's famous 1970 ROLLING STONE interview.
If you want the real untold comedy story of The Beatles, track down Mark Shipper's PAPERBACK WRITER -- that's where you'll learn about the '50s-style MOR "crooner" album Paul released BEFORE joining the Fab Four, among other shockers.
As for PAUL IS UNDEAD, I haven't been so disappointed with a book since Terry Bisson's THE PICK-UP ARTIST. Still, the illustrations are cute....
Other reading: Mostly short stories, novels still have to be pretty great to keep my interest all the way through. Stephen King's "The Road Virus Heads North" was above-average; Kelly Link's "The Specialist's Hat" was odd and creepy, with lots of spooky atmosphere; M. John Harrison's "The Great God Pan" was pretty low-key, with the real terror implied but never directly shown -- just what were his characters DOING with those mysterious mind-experiments back in the '60s? I've read lots of other shorts, but nothing real stunning or memorable.
When not reading or writing, got some travel time in with the girlfriend a couple weeks back -- visited historic Port Townsend and Port Angeles, 50+ miles up the coast from us. Port Townsend was especially cool, with its old downtown on the flats down by the water, and with the old sailing-era "captain's houses" on the bluff overlooking downtown -- all of it immortalized in Jack Cady's novel THE OFF SEASON, which I also wasn't able to get more than 100 pages into.... Was so distracted watching a deer wander through somebody's front yard that I almost got hit by a truck. ...Pretty cool neighborhood, though. Also interesting how I keep wanting to spell it Port "Townshend" -- ah, yes, Port Townshend, founded by famous British explorer and rock guitarist Pete Townshend about 150 years ago....
Port Angeles was a little less historic, but pretty country with the gorgeous Olympic Mountains seemingly looming up over downtown.... Nice drive there and back, my only complaint was there was nowhere to pull over and look out at the water stretching 50 miles north to Canada....
Got bored at work again and took a big bag of CD's back in last week, music from which helped get me through a couple of bad nights before the Memorial Day Weekend. Still listening to the same old stuff, but it sure beats the radio....
Well, this is just a quick update. I have high hopes for the new music book -- a kind of rock and roll meditation, that will hopefully sum-up what music has meant to me over the past 45 years. God knows how it's all gonna fit together, or if, or whether it's all gonna make sense. I don't even care much. At least I'm writing something....
Cheers! More soon....
The horror novel I was working on was put on hold a week ago, when I suddenly got an idea out of the blue that might allow me to finish that Rock Group Novel I've been trying to write for years, plus get some of my other lifelong musical obsessions out in some kind of useable form.... Plus, it's a nicer, brighter place than where I was heading in the horror novel. So I'm working on that instead. I'll keep you posted.
Meanwhile, I was reading lots of horror as homework for the novel I was working on -- most of it was pretty forgettable. One big disappointment: Alan Goldsher's silly zombie mash-up novel, PAUL IS UNDEAD -- the previously untold story of The Beatles as zombies, leaders of The British Zombie Invasion. I thought it had real comedy possibilities -- but the cover painting, showing the Fab Four shambling across Abbey Road as parts fall off of them -- promises much more than the book delivers.
I got maybe 100 pages into it before I gave up. It's basically a one-joke book. Everybody either becomes a zombie or gets eaten up by zombies. Goldsher, a session bassist, clearly did his homework, and knows LOTS of trivia about The Beatles -- you'd have to be a big fan just to "get" the book's title. But beyond the one central zombie joke repeated over and over, there's not much here.
I liked the idea of John Lennon and George Harrison living on practically forever as zombies, but ... I just wish Goldsher had done more with his basic idea. Plus, Goldsher's Lennon sounds nothing like John Lennon -- too bad I'd just finished re-reading Lennon's famous 1970 ROLLING STONE interview.
If you want the real untold comedy story of The Beatles, track down Mark Shipper's PAPERBACK WRITER -- that's where you'll learn about the '50s-style MOR "crooner" album Paul released BEFORE joining the Fab Four, among other shockers.
As for PAUL IS UNDEAD, I haven't been so disappointed with a book since Terry Bisson's THE PICK-UP ARTIST. Still, the illustrations are cute....
Other reading: Mostly short stories, novels still have to be pretty great to keep my interest all the way through. Stephen King's "The Road Virus Heads North" was above-average; Kelly Link's "The Specialist's Hat" was odd and creepy, with lots of spooky atmosphere; M. John Harrison's "The Great God Pan" was pretty low-key, with the real terror implied but never directly shown -- just what were his characters DOING with those mysterious mind-experiments back in the '60s? I've read lots of other shorts, but nothing real stunning or memorable.
When not reading or writing, got some travel time in with the girlfriend a couple weeks back -- visited historic Port Townsend and Port Angeles, 50+ miles up the coast from us. Port Townsend was especially cool, with its old downtown on the flats down by the water, and with the old sailing-era "captain's houses" on the bluff overlooking downtown -- all of it immortalized in Jack Cady's novel THE OFF SEASON, which I also wasn't able to get more than 100 pages into.... Was so distracted watching a deer wander through somebody's front yard that I almost got hit by a truck. ...Pretty cool neighborhood, though. Also interesting how I keep wanting to spell it Port "Townshend" -- ah, yes, Port Townshend, founded by famous British explorer and rock guitarist Pete Townshend about 150 years ago....
Port Angeles was a little less historic, but pretty country with the gorgeous Olympic Mountains seemingly looming up over downtown.... Nice drive there and back, my only complaint was there was nowhere to pull over and look out at the water stretching 50 miles north to Canada....
Got bored at work again and took a big bag of CD's back in last week, music from which helped get me through a couple of bad nights before the Memorial Day Weekend. Still listening to the same old stuff, but it sure beats the radio....
Well, this is just a quick update. I have high hopes for the new music book -- a kind of rock and roll meditation, that will hopefully sum-up what music has meant to me over the past 45 years. God knows how it's all gonna fit together, or if, or whether it's all gonna make sense. I don't even care much. At least I'm writing something....
Cheers! More soon....
Monday, August 12, 2013
#706: The right time
I've had Booker T and the MG's "Time is Tight" stuck in my head ever since I heard it for the first time in years on SOUND OPINIONS over a week ago. Can't shake it.
With work and road trips and waking up at home, here's some of what else I've been listening to lately:
Guess Who -- Rain Dance, Albert Flasher.
Move -- Message From the Country, Do Ya?, Tonight, Chinatown.
Jam -- That's Entertainment, Funeral Pyre, Strange Town, Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.
Hatfield and the North -- THE ROTTERS CLUB: Share It, Lounging There Trying, Big John Wayne Socks Psychology on the Jaw, Chaos at the Greasy Spoon, The Yes No Interlude, Fitter Stoke Has a Bath, Didn't Matter Anyway, Underdub, Mumps: Your Majesty is Like a Cream Donut (quiet)/Lumps/Prenut/Your Majesty is Like a Cream Donut (loud), Big John Wayne (live), Chaos at the Greasy Spoon (live), Halfway Between Heaven and Earth (live), Oh Len's Nature (live), Lying and Gracing (live).
Cat Power -- He War, Speak for Me.
Kirsty MacColl -- Free World.
Church -- Reptile.
Keane -- Somewhere Only We Know, This is the Last Time, Bend and Break, Your Eyes Open.
Pete Townshend -- A Little is Enough, Sheraton Gibson, Now and Then, Slit Skirts, Let's See Action, Empty Glass.
Todd Rundgren -- We Gotta Get You a Woman, I Saw the Light, Hello It's Me, Couldn't I Just Tell You?, Just One Victory, A Dream Goes on Forever, Real Man.
Journey -- Lights, Feeling That Way/Anytime, Patiently, Something to Hide.
Most of this is the same old stuff, though I hadn't heard "Albert Flasher" in over 40 years. The lyrics are REALLY silly -- proving again that it sometimes isn't what's said in a song so much as the way it's said & the rhythm and music that goes with it.
THE ROTTERS CLUB was Hatfield and the North's second album, from 1975 -- and I remember being disappointed with these guys Back When because they weren't as instantly-melodic as Caravan. Their (First Album) struck me as too complicated, with the continuous, intertwining side-long suites being a little short on memorable tunes. OK background music, but nothing to devote your life to.
I grabbed a cheap CD copy of ROTTERS CLUB a couple years ago & thought it was above-average at the time, but again nothing earthshaking.
Maybe it was just waiting for the right time to be heard.
Waking up last Friday morning alone in my own bed after running my ass off pricing & stocking a beer order at work the night before, out of the blue I put ROTTERS CLUB on while waking up. And overall it's really good waking-up music, light and melodic. It's always good to hear Richard Sinclair's singing, & the band's loopy non-sequiter lyrics keep things nice and silly.
There's some nice flute from Jimmy Hastings on "Didn't Matter Anyway" -- it could almost be Caravan. I've always thought "Fitter Stoke Has a Bath" was faintly sad -- there's an air of disappointment about it. "The Yes No Interlude" is sort of chaotic commuting music.
The rest of the album features Dave Stewart's sometimes-atonal organ, here toned-down a bit (maybe I'm getting used to it), Phil Miller's sometimes-jagged guitar (also muted a bit), & the lighter-than-air backing vocals from the Northettes. The best of this stuff sounds closer to National Health (which the Hatfields sort of morphed into), with their trademarked sound of the organ and guitar figures overlaid by the Northettes' airy vocals.
The big attraction here is "Mumps," the Hatfields' magnum opus, which winds through more than 20 minutes of subtle interplay, and it's worth it. The closing "Cream Donut (loud)" repeats the distinctive organ-led melody from the opening, though with more energy, and it's great to hear it again after the preceding 20 minutes -- even though this reprise doesn't go on long enough. Parts of this almost sound like Renaissance, no putdown intended.
The live tracks are a slightly different story: Hatfield live could apparently be a real monster, swinging with almost-Caravan-style riffing. Good stuff.
Of the other above tunes, I catch more and more of The Jam's "Down in the Tube Station at Midnight" with each listening. It was clear from the first time through why Paul Weller didn't want to go down there, but more details keep popping out at me with each listen.
I think Cat Power's "He War" is really great, but it's over with too quick, & I wish something else from her YOU ARE FREE album was as compelling. "Speak for Me" is close, but after that it's a big drop off....
...Hey, one of our Regulars at the gas station walked in a few nights ago wearing an Island Records 45 T-shirt. At first I didn't realize what I was looking at. Then when the lightbulb went on over my head, I about fell off the counter!
The shirt showed an old vinyl single with the green-and-white palm-tree design of the record company's logo, and was actually a sales pitch for Island's reggae artists. There were name-checks for Bob Marley and the Wailers, Toots and the Maytals, Lee "Scratch" Perry, and half a dozen more. A very cool fashion item, and probably a collector's item to boot.
The wearer said he was a sucker for the reggae stuff, and we kicked around that Island was very much the place to be for British artists in the late '60s and early '70s ... although the only other folks on the label that we could think of right then were all white Brits (Fairport Convention, Cat Stevens, Spooky Tooth, Free, Nick Drake, Richard Thompson, etc).
Probably the first time I've admired someone else's T-shirt in a LONG time....
With work and road trips and waking up at home, here's some of what else I've been listening to lately:
Guess Who -- Rain Dance, Albert Flasher.
Move -- Message From the Country, Do Ya?, Tonight, Chinatown.
Jam -- That's Entertainment, Funeral Pyre, Strange Town, Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.
Hatfield and the North -- THE ROTTERS CLUB: Share It, Lounging There Trying, Big John Wayne Socks Psychology on the Jaw, Chaos at the Greasy Spoon, The Yes No Interlude, Fitter Stoke Has a Bath, Didn't Matter Anyway, Underdub, Mumps: Your Majesty is Like a Cream Donut (quiet)/Lumps/Prenut/Your Majesty is Like a Cream Donut (loud), Big John Wayne (live), Chaos at the Greasy Spoon (live), Halfway Between Heaven and Earth (live), Oh Len's Nature (live), Lying and Gracing (live).
Cat Power -- He War, Speak for Me.
Kirsty MacColl -- Free World.
Church -- Reptile.
Keane -- Somewhere Only We Know, This is the Last Time, Bend and Break, Your Eyes Open.
Pete Townshend -- A Little is Enough, Sheraton Gibson, Now and Then, Slit Skirts, Let's See Action, Empty Glass.
Todd Rundgren -- We Gotta Get You a Woman, I Saw the Light, Hello It's Me, Couldn't I Just Tell You?, Just One Victory, A Dream Goes on Forever, Real Man.
Journey -- Lights, Feeling That Way/Anytime, Patiently, Something to Hide.
Most of this is the same old stuff, though I hadn't heard "Albert Flasher" in over 40 years. The lyrics are REALLY silly -- proving again that it sometimes isn't what's said in a song so much as the way it's said & the rhythm and music that goes with it.
THE ROTTERS CLUB was Hatfield and the North's second album, from 1975 -- and I remember being disappointed with these guys Back When because they weren't as instantly-melodic as Caravan. Their (First Album) struck me as too complicated, with the continuous, intertwining side-long suites being a little short on memorable tunes. OK background music, but nothing to devote your life to.
I grabbed a cheap CD copy of ROTTERS CLUB a couple years ago & thought it was above-average at the time, but again nothing earthshaking.
Maybe it was just waiting for the right time to be heard.
Waking up last Friday morning alone in my own bed after running my ass off pricing & stocking a beer order at work the night before, out of the blue I put ROTTERS CLUB on while waking up. And overall it's really good waking-up music, light and melodic. It's always good to hear Richard Sinclair's singing, & the band's loopy non-sequiter lyrics keep things nice and silly.
There's some nice flute from Jimmy Hastings on "Didn't Matter Anyway" -- it could almost be Caravan. I've always thought "Fitter Stoke Has a Bath" was faintly sad -- there's an air of disappointment about it. "The Yes No Interlude" is sort of chaotic commuting music.
The rest of the album features Dave Stewart's sometimes-atonal organ, here toned-down a bit (maybe I'm getting used to it), Phil Miller's sometimes-jagged guitar (also muted a bit), & the lighter-than-air backing vocals from the Northettes. The best of this stuff sounds closer to National Health (which the Hatfields sort of morphed into), with their trademarked sound of the organ and guitar figures overlaid by the Northettes' airy vocals.
The big attraction here is "Mumps," the Hatfields' magnum opus, which winds through more than 20 minutes of subtle interplay, and it's worth it. The closing "Cream Donut (loud)" repeats the distinctive organ-led melody from the opening, though with more energy, and it's great to hear it again after the preceding 20 minutes -- even though this reprise doesn't go on long enough. Parts of this almost sound like Renaissance, no putdown intended.
The live tracks are a slightly different story: Hatfield live could apparently be a real monster, swinging with almost-Caravan-style riffing. Good stuff.
Of the other above tunes, I catch more and more of The Jam's "Down in the Tube Station at Midnight" with each listening. It was clear from the first time through why Paul Weller didn't want to go down there, but more details keep popping out at me with each listen.
I think Cat Power's "He War" is really great, but it's over with too quick, & I wish something else from her YOU ARE FREE album was as compelling. "Speak for Me" is close, but after that it's a big drop off....
...Hey, one of our Regulars at the gas station walked in a few nights ago wearing an Island Records 45 T-shirt. At first I didn't realize what I was looking at. Then when the lightbulb went on over my head, I about fell off the counter!
The shirt showed an old vinyl single with the green-and-white palm-tree design of the record company's logo, and was actually a sales pitch for Island's reggae artists. There were name-checks for Bob Marley and the Wailers, Toots and the Maytals, Lee "Scratch" Perry, and half a dozen more. A very cool fashion item, and probably a collector's item to boot.
The wearer said he was a sucker for the reggae stuff, and we kicked around that Island was very much the place to be for British artists in the late '60s and early '70s ... although the only other folks on the label that we could think of right then were all white Brits (Fairport Convention, Cat Stevens, Spooky Tooth, Free, Nick Drake, Richard Thompson, etc).
Probably the first time I've admired someone else's T-shirt in a LONG time....
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
#703: It's a long way there....
Spent all of Monday on a LONG road trip, down to Salem, Ore., to meet my Girlfriend's Father. That all went fine -- I was MUCH more worried about whether The New Car (bought back around Christmas) would break down somewhere along the road than I was about meeting the GF's Dad.
The trip down was four hours on busy I-5. It was around 90 degrees at our destination outside of Salem. Just south of Portland, with the temperature outside the car hovering around 89, the GF FINALLY convinced me to give the air conditioner a try, & it worked wonderfully -- & I drove the rest of the way there in a dreamy haze. Ain't technology wonderful?
Got there, met her Dad & some of the rest of her family -- nice people. Talked a lot, had some good food, tried to stay cool. Around 7 or so, we figured it was time to head back home, & it was still around 85 outside.
So I had one of my BRILLIANT IDEAS & suggested we head for the Oregon Coast, where it would be at least 20 degrees cooler than the Willamette Valley. The car had been running fine all day, I didn't want to fight the I-5 traffic again, & I hadn't seen the ocean in 10 years. It would be a nice relaxed drive home for us, so...? She said if I was up for it, she was.
Four hours down, EIGHT hours back home.
I was an idiot. I couldn't guess distances right. I was familiar with the roads north of Tillamook, Ore., so I had some idea of how far the drive back home would be. & I knew it was only about 50 miles to the ocean. What I didn't know was some of the stuff we'd encounter along the way. Not that we didn't have a fun, interesting time....
Driving into the sun as we headed west from Salem. Winding climbs into the low Coast Ranges. We saw the Marine Layer of low overcast clouds coming in from a distance, then curved off to the north to head for Tillamook. Climbed up what I thought was the last range of hills between us and the coast....
And drove right into a huge fog bank. The temperature dropped from the low 80s to the low 50s in a matter of minutes. We'd gone from summer heat to winter cool in less than 50 miles.
In the middle of the thick, shrouding fog was a road construction project -- a 15-minute wait before a pilot car led a long line of us drivers through the five-mile-long pavement-resurfacing project.
But when we dropped back down out of that and came out of the fog, we drove through the rolling green farms and leaping forest-topped hills of Tillamook Cheese country. To see all this gorgeous greenery with lakes and inlets sprinkled all through it in the evening twilight was like seeing paintings of The Shire in Middle Earth. It was all quite pretty, seemingly deserted, & very quiet around 8:30 or so.
By the time we hit the coast at Tillamook, it was pitch-dark. & apparently on Oregon's North Coast the sidewalks all roll up by 9 p.m. We finally found a gas station to fill-up the car, & bought a couple mocha frappes for some caffeine to keep us going. And we kept heading north.
Put on some music to -- I hoped -- keep me focused and motivated: Journey, Pete Townshend, Todd Rundgren, Keane. When that started to get boring, I turned on the radio and found a few "modern country" stations to keep the GF happy. Heard some pretty good stuff, too -- done mostly by women. For me, country songs seem to have more depth of feeling when women sing them.
Drove through some beautiful coastal fishing villages, gorgeous lights sparkling on the water -- almost all of them closed down tight. Could see & hear the ocean but couldn't get close to it. At one point when the caffeine got to me, we pulled over & I downed some aspirin ... and I could hear the ocean waves roaring off below us. But I couldn't see a thing.
Drove through my old stomping grounds of Raymond and South Bend, Wash., both looking very quiet in the 1 a.m. darkness. Amazing how much stupid, petty crime happened in two such small, quiet towns while I was a reporter there.
Stopped for more strong coffee at Montesano, topped-off the car and dashed for home. Finally got back to the house around 3. Was a little shaky in places -- between Tillamook and Astoria it seemed at times as if the shadows on the road in front of me were sinking into the pavement in slow motion as the bright lights from the car made them vanish. More than once or twice I thought I was seeing things. I didn't mention any of this to the GF. I KNEW I'd been driving for WAY too long.
It made for an 18-hour day, most of it on the road. I will certainly try to NEVER do THAT again. My vacation's coming up in another two weeks, and I still hope to make it over to the ocean.
During the DAYTIME, next time....
The trip down was four hours on busy I-5. It was around 90 degrees at our destination outside of Salem. Just south of Portland, with the temperature outside the car hovering around 89, the GF FINALLY convinced me to give the air conditioner a try, & it worked wonderfully -- & I drove the rest of the way there in a dreamy haze. Ain't technology wonderful?
Got there, met her Dad & some of the rest of her family -- nice people. Talked a lot, had some good food, tried to stay cool. Around 7 or so, we figured it was time to head back home, & it was still around 85 outside.
So I had one of my BRILLIANT IDEAS & suggested we head for the Oregon Coast, where it would be at least 20 degrees cooler than the Willamette Valley. The car had been running fine all day, I didn't want to fight the I-5 traffic again, & I hadn't seen the ocean in 10 years. It would be a nice relaxed drive home for us, so...? She said if I was up for it, she was.
Four hours down, EIGHT hours back home.
I was an idiot. I couldn't guess distances right. I was familiar with the roads north of Tillamook, Ore., so I had some idea of how far the drive back home would be. & I knew it was only about 50 miles to the ocean. What I didn't know was some of the stuff we'd encounter along the way. Not that we didn't have a fun, interesting time....
Driving into the sun as we headed west from Salem. Winding climbs into the low Coast Ranges. We saw the Marine Layer of low overcast clouds coming in from a distance, then curved off to the north to head for Tillamook. Climbed up what I thought was the last range of hills between us and the coast....
And drove right into a huge fog bank. The temperature dropped from the low 80s to the low 50s in a matter of minutes. We'd gone from summer heat to winter cool in less than 50 miles.
In the middle of the thick, shrouding fog was a road construction project -- a 15-minute wait before a pilot car led a long line of us drivers through the five-mile-long pavement-resurfacing project.
But when we dropped back down out of that and came out of the fog, we drove through the rolling green farms and leaping forest-topped hills of Tillamook Cheese country. To see all this gorgeous greenery with lakes and inlets sprinkled all through it in the evening twilight was like seeing paintings of The Shire in Middle Earth. It was all quite pretty, seemingly deserted, & very quiet around 8:30 or so.
By the time we hit the coast at Tillamook, it was pitch-dark. & apparently on Oregon's North Coast the sidewalks all roll up by 9 p.m. We finally found a gas station to fill-up the car, & bought a couple mocha frappes for some caffeine to keep us going. And we kept heading north.
Put on some music to -- I hoped -- keep me focused and motivated: Journey, Pete Townshend, Todd Rundgren, Keane. When that started to get boring, I turned on the radio and found a few "modern country" stations to keep the GF happy. Heard some pretty good stuff, too -- done mostly by women. For me, country songs seem to have more depth of feeling when women sing them.
Drove through some beautiful coastal fishing villages, gorgeous lights sparkling on the water -- almost all of them closed down tight. Could see & hear the ocean but couldn't get close to it. At one point when the caffeine got to me, we pulled over & I downed some aspirin ... and I could hear the ocean waves roaring off below us. But I couldn't see a thing.
Drove through my old stomping grounds of Raymond and South Bend, Wash., both looking very quiet in the 1 a.m. darkness. Amazing how much stupid, petty crime happened in two such small, quiet towns while I was a reporter there.
Stopped for more strong coffee at Montesano, topped-off the car and dashed for home. Finally got back to the house around 3. Was a little shaky in places -- between Tillamook and Astoria it seemed at times as if the shadows on the road in front of me were sinking into the pavement in slow motion as the bright lights from the car made them vanish. More than once or twice I thought I was seeing things. I didn't mention any of this to the GF. I KNEW I'd been driving for WAY too long.
It made for an 18-hour day, most of it on the road. I will certainly try to NEVER do THAT again. My vacation's coming up in another two weeks, and I still hope to make it over to the ocean.
During the DAYTIME, next time....
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
#686: Music in Turkey
I'm sure there must have been some. I just can't remember much of it.
Outside of the ghostly, wailing, howling Islamic Call to Prayer, which happened 6 times a day starting around 5 a.m., I don't remember hearing much genuinely Turkish music. At one point I received as a present a cassette of a fairly modernized Turkish-woman ballad-singer, who sounded almost pleasant when I heard the music in someone else's apartment ... but on my own I couldn't get into it. For awhile I was disappointed by my failure to adapt & enjoy a new culture, this failure to blend in.
& then I stopped worrying about it. I figured if the music was good enough, IT would grab ME, as always. & that never happened.
My family & I were in Turkey for 2 years -- late 1989 thru late 1991, when the country was just starting to get "modernized." At least that's what the Turks thought. A Pizza Hut had opened in Ankara, & a brand-new McDonald's had just opened in the busiest central square downtown. We never went to either. They were always JAMMED with customers -- all the hip young Turks wanted to be in on Something New.
There were no CDs in Turkish stores back then, but cassettes were EVERYWHERE -- on the shelves of the smallest hole-in-the-wall stores, in the covered stalls of the open-air markets. I bought a Turkish-made cassette of Al Stewart's LAST DAYS OF THE CENTURY there, & though a friend thought it might have been "pirated," it looked fairly legit, complete with the legend "Made in Istanbul" on the cassette, & the official Enigma Records logo & all the artwork & etc. I remember playing the title song & "Red Toupee"; can't remember if I ever got to "Josephine Baker" or "Ghostly Horses of the Plains." But I've still got the tape around somewhere. It still works....
I remember a new Fleetwood Mac album being released just as we went overseas -- BEHIND THE MASK, which shockingly didn't include Lindsey Buckingham. I remember putting it on early in '90 & hoping it would somehow lift us out of the worst of the place, this new land of heat & dust & smog that we'd discovered on our arrival -- & the Mac album failed 2 deliver. It seemed awfully flat & dull, somehow. Or perhaps it was just the heat, I remember thinking. I never even got as far as the hypnotic "In the Back of My Mind," which likely would have woke me right up....
A year later, the same sort of flatness occurred with the Moody Blues' KEYS OF THE KINGDOM, which I had hoped would be a return to the level of their earlier, excellent THE PRESENT -- & which I played all the way through one especially hot summer afternoon while washing dishes. I failed to hear a single memorable melody. By then I was SURE it wasn't the Turkish heat.
There WAS some Good Stuff out there, though because we were so far from home, we had only the sketchiest sort of idea of what was rockin' U.S. ears. I 1st heard Rush's "Show Don't Tell" in Turkey, buying a cassette of their PRESTO cheap & hoping for a repeat of their earlier MOVING PICTURES. Nothing else on PRESTO grabbed me that much -- I don't know if I ever even finished it -- but the opener woke me up....
First heard Kate Bush's THE SENSUAL WORLD in Turkey. Mainly bought it for the devastating "This Woman's Work," & of course I'd heard Kate's 1st 3 albums 10 years earlier. I must've played "This Woman's Work" a lot -- it was my son's favorite song in the world when he was 2 years old.... There were some other good things on SENSUAL WORLD, like the steamy title song & the one where she dresses up like a rocket....
Thanks to the Base Exchange (a "department store" about the size of a big 7-11), we felt like we were fairly up-to-date on music while overseas -- I first saw CD's in Turkey, before I was really sure what the heck they were. When they arrived they came all at once, with no apparent rhyme or reason: Copies of Van Morrison's then-current ENLIGHTENMENT and HYMNS TO THE SILENCE sat right next to the Stories' excellent (& mostly overlooked) early-'70s ABOUT US. But it took me a couple of years before I was "converted" by the value of CDs -- I had to get back to America & notice the extra bonuses & previously-unreleased tracks before I began thinking these funny-looking tiny new discs might actually catch on....
Tho the BX kept us pretty well-stocked, there were some things that were still a mystery: We knew Sinead O'Connor suddenly Got Big seemingly out of nowhere, but it took YEARS before I heard the intensity in her voice in "Nothing Compares 2 U." For years I couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about....
We knew INXS had become a pretty big deal back in the States, but we didn't know HOW big. We'd heard KICK, but we didn't realize what a string of hits they were cranking out Back Home.... Janet Jackson was suddenly a huge deal with RHYTHM NATION 1814 right after we arrived overseas. & none of us could figure out at the end of '91 what the heck a Nirvana was supposed to be....
One of my co-workers was a big Country fan, & was Pretty Country herself -- she actually USED words like "moseyin'" in casual conversation. Though she tended to listen to stuff like John Anderson's "Swingin'" (which I couldn't stand), she also had decent taste -- she was a big Steve Earle fan, & I first heard "Copperhead Road" coming out of her tape player at work....
There were other co-workers who were into stranger stuff, which I might have taken more notice of if I hadn't been distracted by a new country, new culture, writing my ass off for the base newspaper, etc. One was a broadcaster at a nearby base, who had two cats named Fripp and Eno. His casual mention of them one day made me pull the world's longest-delayed whiplash-double-take, & I said we needed to sit down & Talk Music at some point. & naturally, we never got the chance....
I even checked-out Turkish radio a few times, but there wasn't much out there: More wailing women singers, lots of atmospheric, droning Middle Eastern music.... The BBC World Service was out there somewhere, broadcasting faintly from a LONG way off -- they just reinforced the sense of foreignness we already felt. Home was literally 10,000 miles away. I've never felt so disconnected in my entire life. Not even when I lived in Wyoming....
Outside of the ghostly, wailing, howling Islamic Call to Prayer, which happened 6 times a day starting around 5 a.m., I don't remember hearing much genuinely Turkish music. At one point I received as a present a cassette of a fairly modernized Turkish-woman ballad-singer, who sounded almost pleasant when I heard the music in someone else's apartment ... but on my own I couldn't get into it. For awhile I was disappointed by my failure to adapt & enjoy a new culture, this failure to blend in.
& then I stopped worrying about it. I figured if the music was good enough, IT would grab ME, as always. & that never happened.
My family & I were in Turkey for 2 years -- late 1989 thru late 1991, when the country was just starting to get "modernized." At least that's what the Turks thought. A Pizza Hut had opened in Ankara, & a brand-new McDonald's had just opened in the busiest central square downtown. We never went to either. They were always JAMMED with customers -- all the hip young Turks wanted to be in on Something New.
There were no CDs in Turkish stores back then, but cassettes were EVERYWHERE -- on the shelves of the smallest hole-in-the-wall stores, in the covered stalls of the open-air markets. I bought a Turkish-made cassette of Al Stewart's LAST DAYS OF THE CENTURY there, & though a friend thought it might have been "pirated," it looked fairly legit, complete with the legend "Made in Istanbul" on the cassette, & the official Enigma Records logo & all the artwork & etc. I remember playing the title song & "Red Toupee"; can't remember if I ever got to "Josephine Baker" or "Ghostly Horses of the Plains." But I've still got the tape around somewhere. It still works....
I remember a new Fleetwood Mac album being released just as we went overseas -- BEHIND THE MASK, which shockingly didn't include Lindsey Buckingham. I remember putting it on early in '90 & hoping it would somehow lift us out of the worst of the place, this new land of heat & dust & smog that we'd discovered on our arrival -- & the Mac album failed 2 deliver. It seemed awfully flat & dull, somehow. Or perhaps it was just the heat, I remember thinking. I never even got as far as the hypnotic "In the Back of My Mind," which likely would have woke me right up....
A year later, the same sort of flatness occurred with the Moody Blues' KEYS OF THE KINGDOM, which I had hoped would be a return to the level of their earlier, excellent THE PRESENT -- & which I played all the way through one especially hot summer afternoon while washing dishes. I failed to hear a single memorable melody. By then I was SURE it wasn't the Turkish heat.
There WAS some Good Stuff out there, though because we were so far from home, we had only the sketchiest sort of idea of what was rockin' U.S. ears. I 1st heard Rush's "Show Don't Tell" in Turkey, buying a cassette of their PRESTO cheap & hoping for a repeat of their earlier MOVING PICTURES. Nothing else on PRESTO grabbed me that much -- I don't know if I ever even finished it -- but the opener woke me up....
First heard Kate Bush's THE SENSUAL WORLD in Turkey. Mainly bought it for the devastating "This Woman's Work," & of course I'd heard Kate's 1st 3 albums 10 years earlier. I must've played "This Woman's Work" a lot -- it was my son's favorite song in the world when he was 2 years old.... There were some other good things on SENSUAL WORLD, like the steamy title song & the one where she dresses up like a rocket....
Thanks to the Base Exchange (a "department store" about the size of a big 7-11), we felt like we were fairly up-to-date on music while overseas -- I first saw CD's in Turkey, before I was really sure what the heck they were. When they arrived they came all at once, with no apparent rhyme or reason: Copies of Van Morrison's then-current ENLIGHTENMENT and HYMNS TO THE SILENCE sat right next to the Stories' excellent (& mostly overlooked) early-'70s ABOUT US. But it took me a couple of years before I was "converted" by the value of CDs -- I had to get back to America & notice the extra bonuses & previously-unreleased tracks before I began thinking these funny-looking tiny new discs might actually catch on....
Tho the BX kept us pretty well-stocked, there were some things that were still a mystery: We knew Sinead O'Connor suddenly Got Big seemingly out of nowhere, but it took YEARS before I heard the intensity in her voice in "Nothing Compares 2 U." For years I couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about....
We knew INXS had become a pretty big deal back in the States, but we didn't know HOW big. We'd heard KICK, but we didn't realize what a string of hits they were cranking out Back Home.... Janet Jackson was suddenly a huge deal with RHYTHM NATION 1814 right after we arrived overseas. & none of us could figure out at the end of '91 what the heck a Nirvana was supposed to be....
One of my co-workers was a big Country fan, & was Pretty Country herself -- she actually USED words like "moseyin'" in casual conversation. Though she tended to listen to stuff like John Anderson's "Swingin'" (which I couldn't stand), she also had decent taste -- she was a big Steve Earle fan, & I first heard "Copperhead Road" coming out of her tape player at work....
There were other co-workers who were into stranger stuff, which I might have taken more notice of if I hadn't been distracted by a new country, new culture, writing my ass off for the base newspaper, etc. One was a broadcaster at a nearby base, who had two cats named Fripp and Eno. His casual mention of them one day made me pull the world's longest-delayed whiplash-double-take, & I said we needed to sit down & Talk Music at some point. & naturally, we never got the chance....
I even checked-out Turkish radio a few times, but there wasn't much out there: More wailing women singers, lots of atmospheric, droning Middle Eastern music.... The BBC World Service was out there somewhere, broadcasting faintly from a LONG way off -- they just reinforced the sense of foreignness we already felt. Home was literally 10,000 miles away. I've never felt so disconnected in my entire life. Not even when I lived in Wyoming....
Saturday, November 26, 2011
2 years in Turkey! (NOT as in "gobble-gobble"....)
The 2 worst years of my life! That's how I felt about my 2 years in Turkey, at the time. Sorta still feel that way.
But 2 good things came out of it: My daughter was born there. & I wrote some of the best work of my life.
After 3 years in Wyoming telling every1 I'd stay permanently if they wanted, the Air Force sent me 2 Ankara, Turkey, a city of 4 million people located in a bowl in the middle of hilly Anatolia.
The X-wife & I were Xcited about going. Prices there were CHEAP -- we were told we could take a "luxury" bus from 1 end of the country 2 the other 4 $10. There were lots of ancient ruins 2 crawl around on & "Oooh" & "Ahhh" at, plenty of neat stuff 2 see. All that history! A whole diffrent place! A totally new Xperience! So much 2 learn!
We flew over early in Dec 1989. Practically right after we arrived, the 1st Gulf War started. So most of R plans 4 touring the country went right out the window....
The 2nd big shock was Ankara itself. We landed in the middle of winter, & the Turks use coal 2 heat their homes & the MANY apartment bldgs around the city. & in the winter, the smoke from that coal -- along with the Xhaust from a coupla million cars -- hangs in the air, & stays there until the temperature warms up.
We noticed during R nighttime ride from the airport in2 town that the air was BROWN. In the daytime it was more of a gray-white, but the smog was so thick we couldn't clearly see the apartment bldg NEXT DOOR. At night there'd just B squares of lite from other people's apartment windows, seemingly hanging in the air....
Ankara Air Station itself was tiny -- a few blocks wide by mayB 6 blocks long -- home 2 a couple hundred Americans. Home away from home. We had a grocery store as big as 2 7-11's stuck together -- with great milk from Germany, & my 1st-ever Xperience with bottled water, since the public water supply wasn't considered really safe. We had a small base exchange -- like a tiny WalMart, the 1st place I ever saw CDs.
We also had 1a THE BEST bookstores ever. The Stars and Stripes Bookstore was crammed full of the latest paperbacks & LOTSA newspapers, cos 1 thing most of us DIDN'T get every day was News From Home. Most of us didn't have access 2 the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service, which showed lotsa reruns, tape-delayed sports events, & 5 mins of AF-approved news each nite.
So the S&S Bookstore carried the weight. It had LOTS of war-fiction, + TONS of science fiction, horror, mysteries, thrillers, romances, bestsellers, lotsa Tom Clancy & Stephen King. Oh, & lotsa porn, 2. The owners knew who their audience was....
There was also a ton of books from Great Britain -- stuff like the great PENGUIN GUIDE TO POPULAR MUSIC, & M.H. Zool's GOOD READING GUIDE TO SCIENCE FICTION.
There would B something new & cool on the shelves there every week. It still amazes me how many books we brot back from Turkey. A partial list: Thomas Harris's THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS & RED DRAGON, Kathe Koja's THE CIPHER, Gael Baudino's GOSSAMER AXE, Jesse Sublett's ROCK CRITIC MURDERS, Ellen Datlow & Terri Windling's YEAR'S BEST FANTASY AND HORROR, Gardner Dozois's YEAR'S BEST SCIENCE FICTION, Karl Edward Wagner's YEAR'S BEST HORROR STORIES, Edward Lee's over-the-top COVEN, & LOTS more....
Books & newspapers & letters were about R only connection with Back Home. After a year, when we got an apartment that had actual TV, the X & I Bcame Major League Baseball fans just so we could see something CURRENT that was actually happening in America!
We didn't know what THE SIMPSONS was 'til late in our 2 years -- when I saw the 1st couple episodes I laffed til I cried, & then I laffed til I about threw up. America was a mystery that was 10,000 miles away 4 us -- Rosanne Barr sang the National Anthem at the World Series?! What the hell is GOING ON Back Home...?
It's hard 2 Dscribe the sense of isolation we felt. All of us who were there felt it, I think. So we tried 2 have some fun with it, have some good times. You never knew when the electricity would go out -- possibly sevral times a day. You never knew when the water would stop running, or if the toilets would flush.
But the work never stopped. 1nce I settled in I was a 1-man-band on the newspaper, which kept me hoppin -- & eventually Xhausted me. I got 1 week off in 2 years.
The paper itself looked like a little magazine, which was cool -- it had photos & cool graphics & everything. & there was room 4 me 2 write personality features & comedy & off-the-wall stuff if I wanted. & somehow I Bcame a sportswriter -- I guess Bcos of the freedom it gave me compared 2 just-the-facts reporting. & base intramural sports were a blast 2 cover. 1 of the 1st big stories I wrote after arriving was on the base basketball championship game -- which went 2 quadruple-overtime!
While doing all the other stuff I could just have fun with sports -- I wrote stories about the base's 2 worst baseball teams, including a team from the British Embassy that went winless all season but laffed all thru it. Their captain assured me they'd B back next season: "We might even know the rules by then."
I also wrote about the base's worst volleyball team -- fielded by the base Clinic: doctors & nurses & paramedics & admin people -- some of whom went on leave rather than face losing another match....
Pieces like this won me U.S. Air Forces in Europe's Sportswriter of the Year Award in 1991, & I was runner-up 4 the command's Journalist of the Year Award. I was thrilled. Speechless. & it was the freedom I got thru sportswriting & comedy that got me that recognition.
Probly my fave story in 2 years was the Dog Bone Awards, about the ways the base's Finance Office kept morale up during tough times. The Dog Bones were presented every Fri 2 the Finance troop who did the most embarrassing thing all week. I attended 1 of these blowing-off-steam sessions, thot it was hilarious, wrote it up 4 the paper -- the story wrote itself, only took about 30 mins -- & the week after the story appeared, the Finance folks gave ME a Dog Bone. & the plaque is still hanging on my wall....
It wasn't all fun & games. Elsewhere in the country Americans were getting shot at by terrorists. Not all Turks thot it was OK that we were bombing Iraq. We were told 2 "dress Turkish" -- wear dark clothes, don't speak English, go without a shower 4 awhile, blend in, take diffrent routes 2 work.
1 morning in late October 1991, a friend of mine -- a computer Xpert who'd bailed me & the paper outta computer problems 100 times -- got blown-up by a car bomb on his way in 2 work. Everybody at the base went in2 shock. The X & I spent R last month in Turkey in a daze. & we left in Dec 1991. I haven't bn back. I don't really miss it that much.
Ankara Air Station was closed a few years back as a cost-saving measure. It feels weird that a base where I spent 2 years of my life isn't really there anymore. I can still see it....
Don't let me give you a bad impression of the Turks, either. Mosta the folks we met were Xtremely nice, & they were especially kind 2 my son & my golden-haired newborn daughter.
& if you were 2 visit Turkey today, you might like it. The southern coast is gorgeous -- the little I saw of it. My daughter was born in Adana, & that place was like Florida with Turkish roadsigns. There were even palmtrees!
It all depends on where you're at, what you see, & yer attitude. In the middle of that 2 years I spent 3 weeks in Athens, Greece, helping close-down another base. The Greeks think Athens is a toilet -- totally polluted. I thot it was so dazzlingly bright I hadta buy a pair of sunglasses.... It was like California only with what looked like Russian roadsigns....
After we left Turkey, the Air Force sent me 2 San Jose, California, 2 the smallest base in the entire AF. Where the biggest building was a 4-story Blue Cube that 1,000's of people drove by every day. & the base had a mission that I Couldn't Talk About....
But 2 good things came out of it: My daughter was born there. & I wrote some of the best work of my life.
After 3 years in Wyoming telling every1 I'd stay permanently if they wanted, the Air Force sent me 2 Ankara, Turkey, a city of 4 million people located in a bowl in the middle of hilly Anatolia.
The X-wife & I were Xcited about going. Prices there were CHEAP -- we were told we could take a "luxury" bus from 1 end of the country 2 the other 4 $10. There were lots of ancient ruins 2 crawl around on & "Oooh" & "Ahhh" at, plenty of neat stuff 2 see. All that history! A whole diffrent place! A totally new Xperience! So much 2 learn!
We flew over early in Dec 1989. Practically right after we arrived, the 1st Gulf War started. So most of R plans 4 touring the country went right out the window....
The 2nd big shock was Ankara itself. We landed in the middle of winter, & the Turks use coal 2 heat their homes & the MANY apartment bldgs around the city. & in the winter, the smoke from that coal -- along with the Xhaust from a coupla million cars -- hangs in the air, & stays there until the temperature warms up.
We noticed during R nighttime ride from the airport in2 town that the air was BROWN. In the daytime it was more of a gray-white, but the smog was so thick we couldn't clearly see the apartment bldg NEXT DOOR. At night there'd just B squares of lite from other people's apartment windows, seemingly hanging in the air....
Ankara Air Station itself was tiny -- a few blocks wide by mayB 6 blocks long -- home 2 a couple hundred Americans. Home away from home. We had a grocery store as big as 2 7-11's stuck together -- with great milk from Germany, & my 1st-ever Xperience with bottled water, since the public water supply wasn't considered really safe. We had a small base exchange -- like a tiny WalMart, the 1st place I ever saw CDs.
We also had 1a THE BEST bookstores ever. The Stars and Stripes Bookstore was crammed full of the latest paperbacks & LOTSA newspapers, cos 1 thing most of us DIDN'T get every day was News From Home. Most of us didn't have access 2 the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service, which showed lotsa reruns, tape-delayed sports events, & 5 mins of AF-approved news each nite.
So the S&S Bookstore carried the weight. It had LOTS of war-fiction, + TONS of science fiction, horror, mysteries, thrillers, romances, bestsellers, lotsa Tom Clancy & Stephen King. Oh, & lotsa porn, 2. The owners knew who their audience was....
There was also a ton of books from Great Britain -- stuff like the great PENGUIN GUIDE TO POPULAR MUSIC, & M.H. Zool's GOOD READING GUIDE TO SCIENCE FICTION.
There would B something new & cool on the shelves there every week. It still amazes me how many books we brot back from Turkey. A partial list: Thomas Harris's THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS & RED DRAGON, Kathe Koja's THE CIPHER, Gael Baudino's GOSSAMER AXE, Jesse Sublett's ROCK CRITIC MURDERS, Ellen Datlow & Terri Windling's YEAR'S BEST FANTASY AND HORROR, Gardner Dozois's YEAR'S BEST SCIENCE FICTION, Karl Edward Wagner's YEAR'S BEST HORROR STORIES, Edward Lee's over-the-top COVEN, & LOTS more....
Books & newspapers & letters were about R only connection with Back Home. After a year, when we got an apartment that had actual TV, the X & I Bcame Major League Baseball fans just so we could see something CURRENT that was actually happening in America!
We didn't know what THE SIMPSONS was 'til late in our 2 years -- when I saw the 1st couple episodes I laffed til I cried, & then I laffed til I about threw up. America was a mystery that was 10,000 miles away 4 us -- Rosanne Barr sang the National Anthem at the World Series?! What the hell is GOING ON Back Home...?
It's hard 2 Dscribe the sense of isolation we felt. All of us who were there felt it, I think. So we tried 2 have some fun with it, have some good times. You never knew when the electricity would go out -- possibly sevral times a day. You never knew when the water would stop running, or if the toilets would flush.
But the work never stopped. 1nce I settled in I was a 1-man-band on the newspaper, which kept me hoppin -- & eventually Xhausted me. I got 1 week off in 2 years.
The paper itself looked like a little magazine, which was cool -- it had photos & cool graphics & everything. & there was room 4 me 2 write personality features & comedy & off-the-wall stuff if I wanted. & somehow I Bcame a sportswriter -- I guess Bcos of the freedom it gave me compared 2 just-the-facts reporting. & base intramural sports were a blast 2 cover. 1 of the 1st big stories I wrote after arriving was on the base basketball championship game -- which went 2 quadruple-overtime!
While doing all the other stuff I could just have fun with sports -- I wrote stories about the base's 2 worst baseball teams, including a team from the British Embassy that went winless all season but laffed all thru it. Their captain assured me they'd B back next season: "We might even know the rules by then."
I also wrote about the base's worst volleyball team -- fielded by the base Clinic: doctors & nurses & paramedics & admin people -- some of whom went on leave rather than face losing another match....
Pieces like this won me U.S. Air Forces in Europe's Sportswriter of the Year Award in 1991, & I was runner-up 4 the command's Journalist of the Year Award. I was thrilled. Speechless. & it was the freedom I got thru sportswriting & comedy that got me that recognition.
Probly my fave story in 2 years was the Dog Bone Awards, about the ways the base's Finance Office kept morale up during tough times. The Dog Bones were presented every Fri 2 the Finance troop who did the most embarrassing thing all week. I attended 1 of these blowing-off-steam sessions, thot it was hilarious, wrote it up 4 the paper -- the story wrote itself, only took about 30 mins -- & the week after the story appeared, the Finance folks gave ME a Dog Bone. & the plaque is still hanging on my wall....
It wasn't all fun & games. Elsewhere in the country Americans were getting shot at by terrorists. Not all Turks thot it was OK that we were bombing Iraq. We were told 2 "dress Turkish" -- wear dark clothes, don't speak English, go without a shower 4 awhile, blend in, take diffrent routes 2 work.
1 morning in late October 1991, a friend of mine -- a computer Xpert who'd bailed me & the paper outta computer problems 100 times -- got blown-up by a car bomb on his way in 2 work. Everybody at the base went in2 shock. The X & I spent R last month in Turkey in a daze. & we left in Dec 1991. I haven't bn back. I don't really miss it that much.
Ankara Air Station was closed a few years back as a cost-saving measure. It feels weird that a base where I spent 2 years of my life isn't really there anymore. I can still see it....
Don't let me give you a bad impression of the Turks, either. Mosta the folks we met were Xtremely nice, & they were especially kind 2 my son & my golden-haired newborn daughter.
& if you were 2 visit Turkey today, you might like it. The southern coast is gorgeous -- the little I saw of it. My daughter was born in Adana, & that place was like Florida with Turkish roadsigns. There were even palmtrees!
It all depends on where you're at, what you see, & yer attitude. In the middle of that 2 years I spent 3 weeks in Athens, Greece, helping close-down another base. The Greeks think Athens is a toilet -- totally polluted. I thot it was so dazzlingly bright I hadta buy a pair of sunglasses.... It was like California only with what looked like Russian roadsigns....
After we left Turkey, the Air Force sent me 2 San Jose, California, 2 the smallest base in the entire AF. Where the biggest building was a 4-story Blue Cube that 1,000's of people drove by every day. & the base had a mission that I Couldn't Talk About....
Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Boogie Monster and other adventures....
At the end of May 1986, the Air Force transferred me from San Antonio, Texas, to Cheyenne, Wyoming, where for the 1st time in my 3-year AF career I was finally gonna get the chance 2 write 4 a real base newspaper.
To celebrate, my then-wife & I took a 2-week "great circle" tour thru the Plains & the Intermountain West -- across west Texas, thru New Mexico & Arizona, then north up thru Arizona & Utah, across southern Idaho 2 see our folks in Boise, then back east across Idaho & thru the wilds of Wyoming 2 Cheyenne.
We stopped at every National Park we could find along the way -- the Grand Canyon (which is really stunning), Bryce Canyon (which isn't really a canyon), Zion (which was as awesome & as much like going 2 church as Grand), Craters of the Moon, Yellowstone, etc.
By the time we got 2 Yellowstone we were pretty tired & pretty bored with the whole thing: "What, another scenic climax...?"
When we finally got 2 my new base -- Francis E. Warren AFB on the western outskirts of Cheyenne, then the biggest intercontinental ballistic missile base in the country -- the folks at FEW put me & the Mrs. in temporary housing til we found somewhere 2 live. Their temporary housing was more like a huge cabin -- over a hill from the main base, down by a creek, surrounded by trees, quiet -- like still being on vacation.
The cabin had all the essentials -- beds, couches, TV, radio, kitchen, etc. Naturally, I turned on the stereo the 1st evening 2 C what kinda music I'd B forced 2 put up with in Cheyenne. I was dreading that it might all B Country, something like being back home in Idaho.
Instead, 1 of the 1st stations I found was (I think) KOA AM outta Denver, playing some rare R&B track from the early '60s. & then the DJ came on. He called himself The Boogie Monster.
At 1st I thot he was some kinda 2nd-rate Wolfman Jack -- same deep voice, same kinda jive come-on, a little cheezy, in a good way. But soon I realized he wasn't 2nd-rate at all. The stuff he played I'd never heard anywhere B4. & he sure had a lotta fun with it.
In fact, it soon Bcame clear that listening 2 The Boogie Monster was like some kinda lunatic had escaped from the asylum & locked himself in2 the studio with a pile of ABSOLUTELY GREAT previously forgotten records, & he was gonna play EVERY ONE OF 'EM, & you were gonna LOVE ALL OF THEM. & that's how it was gonna B 'til the police kicked down the door.
Now here's the catch: I don't remember 4 sure ANY of the stuff he played. I didn't keep any lists like that back then. I know it was all great. I think I mighta heard Brewer & Shipley's brilliant "Witchi-Tai-To" 4 the 1st time on his show, & some long but intriguing number by a short-lived late-'60s "supergroup" called Sweet Thursday. But I might B wrong. It mighta bn some other syndicated "forgotten oldies" show.
I know I listened 2 The Boogie Monster sevral times during the 3 years we lived in Cheyenne. But I know I also kinda took him 4 granted, figuring he'd always B there, & that I'd always B around (I told LOTS of people I'd stay in Wyoming til I retired if the AF would let me), that I'd have plenty of time 2 listen 2 more at my leisure. But it didn't Xactly work out that way.
Besides, I had other things on my mind, like how 2 write in English for an Air Force newspaper, how 2 run the whole thing myself, how to write, photograph, layout, & distribute the thing all over the base on Friday morning. Usually alone. Sometimes in 2 feet of snow.
Sometimes I had help. I invited 1 of my co-workers & his wife over 2 the house 4 dinner in an effort 2 make the office/work atmosphere more comfortable. Then I stumbled over the issue of What Music To Play? My co-worker & his wife were rather fundamentalist Christians, & I had no gospel or sacred music in the house. But I wanted something that rocked a LITTLE.
So I tried 2 turn them on 2 Fairport Convention -- which they said was "too morbid." That'll teach me 4 starting out with "I'll Keep it With Mine." Shoulda opened with "Listen, Listen," or "Come All Ye." Or maybe tried something else instead. The Moody Blues? Hey, if they wanted morbid, I shoulda put on Nick Drake. Or I coulda played King Crimson & just scared 'em the hell outta the house....
We also hadda couple of broadcasters in the Public Affairs Office (at 1 point we had 3, Ghod knows why), & they moonlighted with off-duty jobs at local radio stations. 1 of 'em invited me 2 drop in on him while he worked at 1a the local Album Rock stations.
So I drove over 1 nite after work & watched him do his thing as "Steve Cheyenne" on the air 4 a coupla hrs. It was pretty cool. We both cracked up about how obvious his on-air name was, & we were both frustrated by how tight the station's playlist was -- because the ramshackle studios were CRAMMED with albums -- there was vinyl piled & scattered EVERYWHERE. It was a freakin treasure-house of tunes & there were only maybe 200 songs on the station's playlist.
Just being IN the station was cool, especially at nite -- it was not at all the brightly-lit high-tech place I Xpected -- in fact, the rundown dark-shadows condition of the place was almost an Xact match 4 the station described in Gregory Nicoll's spooky 1989 horror story "Dead Air," 1 of my horror faves.
While I was in Cheyenne, a co-worker dragged me along 2 a writers' workshop in Denver, where I got 2 meet a couple of my favorite science fiction writers, Edward Bryant & Connie Willis. I found out that pro writers put their pants on just like every1 else. I raved 2 Bryant how knocked-out I'd been by his great Wyoming story, "Strata." I was pretty incoherent tho, probly sounded like an idiot. He said only a couple of people had ever noticed that story before....
Tho there was some job-related stress, I didn't realize til later that I was Living The Good Life. The X & I were no longer homesick 4 Idaho (like we had been in Texas), & despite the brutally cold winters, Wyoming was pretty great. We were pretty happy. Our son was born in Cheyenne in 1988.
But I made the mistake of telling 2 many people I'd stay permanently. & the AF sent me 2 Ankara, Turkey, at the end of 1989. That was also an adventure, but it's a whole diffrent story.
When I left Cheyenne, The Boogie Monster was still on the air. But I've never been back there, or NEwhere close 2 Denver, so I don't know if he's still on the air 20+ years later & still crankin out those great forgotten tunes. In these days of the Internet where nothing is ever forgotten, The Boogie Monster doesn't have a Wikipedia page, & I'm not even sure I got the KOA call-letters right.
But I remember. Sort of. I remember....
To celebrate, my then-wife & I took a 2-week "great circle" tour thru the Plains & the Intermountain West -- across west Texas, thru New Mexico & Arizona, then north up thru Arizona & Utah, across southern Idaho 2 see our folks in Boise, then back east across Idaho & thru the wilds of Wyoming 2 Cheyenne.
We stopped at every National Park we could find along the way -- the Grand Canyon (which is really stunning), Bryce Canyon (which isn't really a canyon), Zion (which was as awesome & as much like going 2 church as Grand), Craters of the Moon, Yellowstone, etc.
By the time we got 2 Yellowstone we were pretty tired & pretty bored with the whole thing: "What, another scenic climax...?"
When we finally got 2 my new base -- Francis E. Warren AFB on the western outskirts of Cheyenne, then the biggest intercontinental ballistic missile base in the country -- the folks at FEW put me & the Mrs. in temporary housing til we found somewhere 2 live. Their temporary housing was more like a huge cabin -- over a hill from the main base, down by a creek, surrounded by trees, quiet -- like still being on vacation.
The cabin had all the essentials -- beds, couches, TV, radio, kitchen, etc. Naturally, I turned on the stereo the 1st evening 2 C what kinda music I'd B forced 2 put up with in Cheyenne. I was dreading that it might all B Country, something like being back home in Idaho.
Instead, 1 of the 1st stations I found was (I think) KOA AM outta Denver, playing some rare R&B track from the early '60s. & then the DJ came on. He called himself The Boogie Monster.
At 1st I thot he was some kinda 2nd-rate Wolfman Jack -- same deep voice, same kinda jive come-on, a little cheezy, in a good way. But soon I realized he wasn't 2nd-rate at all. The stuff he played I'd never heard anywhere B4. & he sure had a lotta fun with it.
In fact, it soon Bcame clear that listening 2 The Boogie Monster was like some kinda lunatic had escaped from the asylum & locked himself in2 the studio with a pile of ABSOLUTELY GREAT previously forgotten records, & he was gonna play EVERY ONE OF 'EM, & you were gonna LOVE ALL OF THEM. & that's how it was gonna B 'til the police kicked down the door.
Now here's the catch: I don't remember 4 sure ANY of the stuff he played. I didn't keep any lists like that back then. I know it was all great. I think I mighta heard Brewer & Shipley's brilliant "Witchi-Tai-To" 4 the 1st time on his show, & some long but intriguing number by a short-lived late-'60s "supergroup" called Sweet Thursday. But I might B wrong. It mighta bn some other syndicated "forgotten oldies" show.
I know I listened 2 The Boogie Monster sevral times during the 3 years we lived in Cheyenne. But I know I also kinda took him 4 granted, figuring he'd always B there, & that I'd always B around (I told LOTS of people I'd stay in Wyoming til I retired if the AF would let me), that I'd have plenty of time 2 listen 2 more at my leisure. But it didn't Xactly work out that way.
Besides, I had other things on my mind, like how 2 write in English for an Air Force newspaper, how 2 run the whole thing myself, how to write, photograph, layout, & distribute the thing all over the base on Friday morning. Usually alone. Sometimes in 2 feet of snow.
Sometimes I had help. I invited 1 of my co-workers & his wife over 2 the house 4 dinner in an effort 2 make the office/work atmosphere more comfortable. Then I stumbled over the issue of What Music To Play? My co-worker & his wife were rather fundamentalist Christians, & I had no gospel or sacred music in the house. But I wanted something that rocked a LITTLE.
So I tried 2 turn them on 2 Fairport Convention -- which they said was "too morbid." That'll teach me 4 starting out with "I'll Keep it With Mine." Shoulda opened with "Listen, Listen," or "Come All Ye." Or maybe tried something else instead. The Moody Blues? Hey, if they wanted morbid, I shoulda put on Nick Drake. Or I coulda played King Crimson & just scared 'em the hell outta the house....
We also hadda couple of broadcasters in the Public Affairs Office (at 1 point we had 3, Ghod knows why), & they moonlighted with off-duty jobs at local radio stations. 1 of 'em invited me 2 drop in on him while he worked at 1a the local Album Rock stations.
So I drove over 1 nite after work & watched him do his thing as "Steve Cheyenne" on the air 4 a coupla hrs. It was pretty cool. We both cracked up about how obvious his on-air name was, & we were both frustrated by how tight the station's playlist was -- because the ramshackle studios were CRAMMED with albums -- there was vinyl piled & scattered EVERYWHERE. It was a freakin treasure-house of tunes & there were only maybe 200 songs on the station's playlist.
Just being IN the station was cool, especially at nite -- it was not at all the brightly-lit high-tech place I Xpected -- in fact, the rundown dark-shadows condition of the place was almost an Xact match 4 the station described in Gregory Nicoll's spooky 1989 horror story "Dead Air," 1 of my horror faves.
While I was in Cheyenne, a co-worker dragged me along 2 a writers' workshop in Denver, where I got 2 meet a couple of my favorite science fiction writers, Edward Bryant & Connie Willis. I found out that pro writers put their pants on just like every1 else. I raved 2 Bryant how knocked-out I'd been by his great Wyoming story, "Strata." I was pretty incoherent tho, probly sounded like an idiot. He said only a couple of people had ever noticed that story before....
Tho there was some job-related stress, I didn't realize til later that I was Living The Good Life. The X & I were no longer homesick 4 Idaho (like we had been in Texas), & despite the brutally cold winters, Wyoming was pretty great. We were pretty happy. Our son was born in Cheyenne in 1988.
But I made the mistake of telling 2 many people I'd stay permanently. & the AF sent me 2 Ankara, Turkey, at the end of 1989. That was also an adventure, but it's a whole diffrent story.
When I left Cheyenne, The Boogie Monster was still on the air. But I've never been back there, or NEwhere close 2 Denver, so I don't know if he's still on the air 20+ years later & still crankin out those great forgotten tunes. In these days of the Internet where nothing is ever forgotten, The Boogie Monster doesn't have a Wikipedia page, & I'm not even sure I got the KOA call-letters right.
But I remember. Sort of. I remember....
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Last Exit
It's April 1979 & I'm sitting in a cold & drafty coffeehouse called The Last Exit in Seattle's University District, not far from the University of Washington's huge red-cobblestoned courtyard.
It's cold, rainy & foggy outside, & drafty inside, where moisture is condensing on the inside of the windows, barely reflected in the pale interior light. I realize I haven't been this cold & wet in a LONG time.
I'm no dummy -- I know it rains a lot in Washington, I went 2 junior-highschool here, & I remembered the way the rain usedta POUR down 4 DAYS. But that was when I was younger & that stuff didn't bother me -- sometimes I'd even go out & wander around in it....
The espresso I'm trying 2 force down is pretty bitter 2 -- not at all what I expected. How can I drink coffee with NO SUGAR?
Up at the front of the room, some Bob Dylan wanna-be is singing as he strums his guitar. I'm not a big Dylan fan but somehow I know that Bob is Safe.
I'm in Seattle with my highschool sweetheart Allison, 2 visit our old college friend Melissa, who has an apartment within walking distance of the UW. Somehow, Al & I have survived me driving a huge old (mid-'60s) boat-sized Chevy stationwagon 600+ miles from Boise, Idaho all across Oregon & then north 2 Seattle. Amazingly, the car didn't break down. & Al & I R still talking 2 each other. In fact, we're closer than we've been in 2 years.
The only mistake we made was relying on the radio 2 help fight the boredom. The Chevy didn't have a tape-player. There Rn't 2 many radio stations in the wilds of Eastern Oregon. & when we came up over a hill just east of Baker, suddenly the radio Al had been trying 2 coax 2 life erupted in what sounded like The Voice Of Ghod: "AND NOW THE ADVENTURES OF GOD'S OWN AGRICULTURALIST, GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER...." Somehow we survived that 2....
Melissa's apt is a tiny dorm-style room -- she spends mosta her time at her boyfriend Jim's apt, which is on the 14th floor of a building that towers over the U District. Turns out Jim's a pretty big progressive-rock fan. As we talk, he pulls out old albums by The Nice (ARS LONGA VITA BREVIS, THE THOUGHTS OF EMERLIST DAVJACK, WINTER TO SPRING, THE IMMEDIATE STORY), Manfred Mann's Earth Band (MESSIN', GET YOUR ROCKS OFF, SOLAR FIRE, THE GOOD EARTH, NIGHTINGALES AND BOMBERS), & Roxy Music (COUNTRY LIFE, STRANDED). Some of this he even puts on the stereo, & it sounds pretty good. Most of it I'll never hear again....
His musical intrests go with mine, & we get along OK. After all, I'm the guy who stuffed 30+ albums in2 a box & packed them in the car cos I didn't think I could get thru a week without them. I packed music B4 I packed CLOTHES. I don't think I played more than a couple albums during the entire week we were in Seattle. But somehow I couldn't have managed without Camel's BREATHLESS & Providence's EVER SENSE THE DAWN & Gryphon's RED QUEEN TO GRYPHON THREE & Caravan's FOR GIRLS WHO GROW PLUMP IN THE NIGHT.
Turns out the U District is a good neighborhood 4 prog fans -- there's 1/2adozen used record stores in 1 block along University Blvd. -- I walk in2 the 1st 1 & I feel like I've Come Home: There's a huge cut-out stand-up of Soft Machine from their 1st album along the top of 1 record cabinet. There's stuff hanging from the ceiling & weird album covers all around. I think I'm already pretty well-informed musically, & I've got NO IDEA what mosta this stuff is....
1 shop is looking 4 help, so I apply. It's a million-2-1 shot that I'll actually get the job & B able 2 stay in Seattle, but I love the atmosphere of the U District -- not just the used record stores, but the used bookstores & 1 great little cozy Chinese restaurant -- SO MUCH more Xciting & intresting than Boise, where I've lived most of my life up 2 this point....
The record store gives me a Rock trivia test over the phone -- I botch about 1/2 of it. I don't get the job. But tho I'm bummed, at least I've got all this great atmosphere 2 drink up.... I never do get thru that bitter espresso, tho.
Al loves the atmosphere 2, & vows 2 come back -- & she does, less than a year later. I'm supposed 2 follow her there, but instead I get hired by my favorite record store in Boise, & decide 2 stay. The record store job lasts 3 years & 4 awhile I have a place of my own (low-rent as it was). But eventually the job ends badly & I end up unemployed 4 a year & finally join the Air Force.
It takes me 16 years 2 get back 2 Washington & I never go back 2 The Last Exit -- but I know the U District is still there, & I'm told there R still tons of used book & record stores 2 wander thru. I've got 2 get back over there someday....
It's cold, rainy & foggy outside, & drafty inside, where moisture is condensing on the inside of the windows, barely reflected in the pale interior light. I realize I haven't been this cold & wet in a LONG time.
I'm no dummy -- I know it rains a lot in Washington, I went 2 junior-highschool here, & I remembered the way the rain usedta POUR down 4 DAYS. But that was when I was younger & that stuff didn't bother me -- sometimes I'd even go out & wander around in it....
The espresso I'm trying 2 force down is pretty bitter 2 -- not at all what I expected. How can I drink coffee with NO SUGAR?
Up at the front of the room, some Bob Dylan wanna-be is singing as he strums his guitar. I'm not a big Dylan fan but somehow I know that Bob is Safe.
I'm in Seattle with my highschool sweetheart Allison, 2 visit our old college friend Melissa, who has an apartment within walking distance of the UW. Somehow, Al & I have survived me driving a huge old (mid-'60s) boat-sized Chevy stationwagon 600+ miles from Boise, Idaho all across Oregon & then north 2 Seattle. Amazingly, the car didn't break down. & Al & I R still talking 2 each other. In fact, we're closer than we've been in 2 years.
The only mistake we made was relying on the radio 2 help fight the boredom. The Chevy didn't have a tape-player. There Rn't 2 many radio stations in the wilds of Eastern Oregon. & when we came up over a hill just east of Baker, suddenly the radio Al had been trying 2 coax 2 life erupted in what sounded like The Voice Of Ghod: "AND NOW THE ADVENTURES OF GOD'S OWN AGRICULTURALIST, GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER...." Somehow we survived that 2....
Melissa's apt is a tiny dorm-style room -- she spends mosta her time at her boyfriend Jim's apt, which is on the 14th floor of a building that towers over the U District. Turns out Jim's a pretty big progressive-rock fan. As we talk, he pulls out old albums by The Nice (ARS LONGA VITA BREVIS, THE THOUGHTS OF EMERLIST DAVJACK, WINTER TO SPRING, THE IMMEDIATE STORY), Manfred Mann's Earth Band (MESSIN', GET YOUR ROCKS OFF, SOLAR FIRE, THE GOOD EARTH, NIGHTINGALES AND BOMBERS), & Roxy Music (COUNTRY LIFE, STRANDED). Some of this he even puts on the stereo, & it sounds pretty good. Most of it I'll never hear again....
His musical intrests go with mine, & we get along OK. After all, I'm the guy who stuffed 30+ albums in2 a box & packed them in the car cos I didn't think I could get thru a week without them. I packed music B4 I packed CLOTHES. I don't think I played more than a couple albums during the entire week we were in Seattle. But somehow I couldn't have managed without Camel's BREATHLESS & Providence's EVER SENSE THE DAWN & Gryphon's RED QUEEN TO GRYPHON THREE & Caravan's FOR GIRLS WHO GROW PLUMP IN THE NIGHT.
Turns out the U District is a good neighborhood 4 prog fans -- there's 1/2adozen used record stores in 1 block along University Blvd. -- I walk in2 the 1st 1 & I feel like I've Come Home: There's a huge cut-out stand-up of Soft Machine from their 1st album along the top of 1 record cabinet. There's stuff hanging from the ceiling & weird album covers all around. I think I'm already pretty well-informed musically, & I've got NO IDEA what mosta this stuff is....
1 shop is looking 4 help, so I apply. It's a million-2-1 shot that I'll actually get the job & B able 2 stay in Seattle, but I love the atmosphere of the U District -- not just the used record stores, but the used bookstores & 1 great little cozy Chinese restaurant -- SO MUCH more Xciting & intresting than Boise, where I've lived most of my life up 2 this point....
The record store gives me a Rock trivia test over the phone -- I botch about 1/2 of it. I don't get the job. But tho I'm bummed, at least I've got all this great atmosphere 2 drink up.... I never do get thru that bitter espresso, tho.
Al loves the atmosphere 2, & vows 2 come back -- & she does, less than a year later. I'm supposed 2 follow her there, but instead I get hired by my favorite record store in Boise, & decide 2 stay. The record store job lasts 3 years & 4 awhile I have a place of my own (low-rent as it was). But eventually the job ends badly & I end up unemployed 4 a year & finally join the Air Force.
It takes me 16 years 2 get back 2 Washington & I never go back 2 The Last Exit -- but I know the U District is still there, & I'm told there R still tons of used book & record stores 2 wander thru. I've got 2 get back over there someday....
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