It's about 80 degrees in this here makeshift office on the second floor of a warehouse deep in the heart of the industrial area of "The Bucket". I'm not a big fan of the heat. This may be because I prefer to dress in longsleeves and sportcoats 365 days a year, and I have long hair and a beard. I'd prefer it to be 60 degrees and overcast all year, that way I won't sweat, the sun won't make me squint, and my electric bill wouldn't quadruple in my efforts to air condition my condo down to 55 degrees like Letterman keeps his studio. So, if this is what it's like in April, I can't imagine what August will be like. Perhaps I should move to Seattle or something. I suppose the sun isn't that much of an issue now that I'm working overnights, but it is annoying to emerge into the morning dew and know that the major thing that the upcoming day has in store for me is sleep.
Here's a live performance of "Dead Flowers" with Keith Richards, Willie Nelson, Ryan Adams, and Hank Williams III. This pretty much would be what I would direct someone to who was looking for "good" country music.
Here's Keith with Norah Jones from the Graham Parsons Tribute show singing "Love Hurts". Gram did this as a duet with Emmylou Harris before Nazareth ruined it. I think it was originally written for Roy Orbison.
To counterbalance the large amount of Pogues-centric postings in recent weeks I present Keith Richards hitting a bloke with a guitar. He said once in an interview that if anyone fucked with him on stage, he'd "cut the mother down". Indeed.
I went to San Francisco (aka "What A Wonderful World")
I'm back at work sitting at my desk listening to GameDay on mlb.com since there's no TV here. The Red Sox just suffered a humilating loss to Toronto. I've got the Oakland/Los Angeles game on now, basically to kill time and because I had a great time at the A's/Yankees game on Sunday. More on that later, though. But goddamn, GameDay is pretty cool. You can listen to any game, with either the home or away announcers. I can thank "Mr. X" for the login.
The week was a pretty fun one on the whole, but my back problems seemed to come back to me on Friday night, most likely due to walking around so much on those damned hills that make up most of the landscape of San Francisco. I muddled through, and had a great time.
Wednesday's flight was not too bad as I had brought enough Ambien and Vicodin to knock myself out for the majority of the trip. I was slightly surprised to hear "Welcome to Detroit" when the plane was due to transfer in Chicago, but it was only a couple of hours of delay and i was in Oakland by early evening. Wednesday night was pretty low key as it was a work night for my hostess Liz, but we had a nice dinner and had a good time catching up.
Thursday was spent enjoying the sunshine (something which has been lacking around here as of late), and going to Liz's birthday dinner. I got to meet a lot of the cool people she works with, had a delicious meal, and finally meet the legendary Jim Marshall (probably best known for taking the famous picture of Johnny Cash flipping the bird at San Quentin). After dinner, we headed across the street to a local bar, and continued the libation and conversation. I had a great time reconnecting with Liz's fiancee Z (a legend in his own right) and talking to her friends, especially Marin, Brian, and Angie. Cool people over there at Wolfgang's Vault.
Friday is the day I made the fatal mistake of doing too much walking on those hilly bay area streets. I got over to Aeomba Records and picked up a used copy of a Nick Cave CD I'd been looking for (with his and Shane MacGowan's cover of "What A Wonderful World", one of my favorites). I met Liz on upper Haight, we had a drink or two and then cabbed it down to an upscale-ish pizza place to meet Mike and Christina. It was good to catch up with Mike and meet Christina. After dinner we headed to Molotov's, a low rent, punky kind of place with a cool atmosphere. The Z man met us there, and we had several great hours of conversation and a great jukebox I hogged for the majority of the night playing Pogues, Clash, and Rolling Stones songs. I was pretty stiff by the end of the night despite alcohol's loosening effect, and I slept about 10 hours that night, I believe. I did make an early-morning call into "the show" back east, where I got some comments out about the whole Imus thing. I wish all of that had not gone down while I was on vacation. It's infuriating situations like that which make radio so interesting and invigorating to be a part of.
Saturday afternoon after I finally woke up was spent with Liz trying to get transportation downtown to the movie theater. After no luck at the Muni train stop, we eventually just walked to the underground and made it downtown, but not in time to make the showing of "Blades of Glory" that we wanted to catch, so we grabbed some late lunch and some beers at an Irish pub downtown. My burger was good (hard to screw that up, I guess) but Liz's fish & chips were pretty greasy. The movie was very funny. Very stupid, but very funny in an "Anchorman"-ish kind of way. Will Arnett was great in it, as was John Heder and Jenna Fischer (who I admit to having a "thing" for). At this point my battery was dead on my phone and I was incommunicado to the rest of the world. Pretty annoying, but it is what it is.
Saturday night Liz and I met for dinner with her friend Ally, and (although I don't remember the name of the resturant) it was a good meal. We went back to Ally's house after that for them to get ready for the evening, and I watched the A's lose to the Yankees after 13 innings. That pretty much sucked, as you would imagine. Ally's roomate and her friend came out with us to a place called "Shine" which was kind of, well, "shiny", with lots of happy west coast people bouncing around to electronic beats. I actually had a good time despite myself and had a great time talking to Liz, while watching the lecherous euro-trash guys fawn over her friends. Got a kick out of that.
Someone had the idea to go to a place called "Garage-Mahal" for some kind of warehouse party the likes of which I've only experienced back east with such luminaries as Storm Davis. The eurotrash was enlisted to drive us, and we split into two cars. The car I was in was a tiny Mustang with more Armour-all on the dashboard than even most '86 iROC Z's in Cranston. There were 4 girls packed into the back seat and some of them were loud and annoying. We finally found the place, and were denied entry because the place was "too packed". We regrouped at a bar across the street with a jam-band playing and banners celebrating a bluegrass festival. All 4 eurotrash guys promptly headed for the men's room where they packed themselves into the same stall, no doubt their systems were running low on Bolivian marching powder at this point.
Anyway, they left us there, taking the most annoying girl with them. Ally, her roommate, Liz and I ran into a friend of theirs who took us to another party in another part of town. The car ride was actually pretty fun with tons of picture taking and a much better vibe than the previous ride. This was some sort of house party that was frequented by "Burning Man" types. This is not really my scene, to say the least. We got to wait in line on the stairs as some St. Peter-like bearded hippy dude personally interviewed everyone to make sure they "brought the correct vibe" with them or something. I was pretty sure I would fail this test, so I planned on telling the guy I voted Republican (locally, anyway)in the last election, listen to Michael Savage and Howard Stern, and don't buy into his reverse-elitist bullshit program.
Thankfully, Liz caught on as well and suggested we get the hell out of there. Everyone else was in the door by this point, so the two of us just split from the line without having to deal with this dude's bullshit. We found a chill bar on Haight St and had a couple of beers before heading over to the Zman's house to crash for the night. I got to sleep in the guest room, which was packed with baseball stuff, and there were some cool Red Sox things mixed in there. It was impressive.
The next morning Z presented me with a print of a Rolling Stones photograph he had taken at the show at Winterland in San Francisco from ther 1972 tour. It's a shot of Keith taking a big swig of Jack Daniels with Mick flailing about and Charlie in the background. I can't wait to get this framed and hung up in my place.
Liz and I made our way to brunch before meeting up with her friend Brian and heading over to "Oaktown" for the A's game. We had fantastic seats that Z got for us from Lenny DeNardo (formerly with the Red Sox, now with the A's) in the section where the player's wives sit. It was a beautiful day to watch baseball, and it was great to watch the Yankees lose in the 9th inning to a walkoff 3 run homer from Marco Scutero. After the game, we got to exit through the tunnel where the players leave from, as we met Z who was shooting the game.
Sunday night would be a mellow one as I was leaving from Oakland Airport at 8am the next day. I set up service with SuperShuttle, which was a pretty cool airport service which meant I didn't have to deal with BART and MUNI at 5:30 in the morning. Liz cooked a delicious chicken dinner, and there was great conversation as always with Liz, Z, and Brian.
I got out of Oakland with no problems, but at the change in Las Vegas, the scuttlebutt in line was that TF Green Airport was closed thanks to part of the wall falling down. That was pleasant news to hear while waiting in the Southwest cattle line. A quick call to the newsroom at WPRO aleviated my fears when I was told that the airport had reopened to incoming flights.
All in all it was a great (but all too short) week. There's always more that I'd like to do (hang out with Mike more, for instance), but the fantastic times I've had the last few times I've come out west (going to Napa in November is something I won't soon forget) really make the trip something special.
I can't thank Liz and Z enough for the hospitality that they show me when I come out. It makes me want to move out there. It was lucky for me that Liz's roomate was in India, so I got my own bedroom for the week, too.
Here are pictures.
And here is the aformentioned video for Nick Cave and Shane MacGowan singing "What A Wonderful World":
I'm sitting at work enjoying the Clash. I think "Straight to Hell" may be one of my favorite songs of all time. Powerful stuff and a nice, mournful groove. The live version is pretty good too. One of my great regrets in life is never checking out Joe Strummer live on one of the many opportunities that came and went.
To answer some "viewer mail" for continuity sake: Yes, I have a banjo. This was a necessary purchase, obviously. It's fun to pick out tunes, and I've enjoyed the banjo since first coming across such tunes as "The Rainbow Connection" by Kermit the Frog and "Pussy" by Bill Wyman. It's not really easy, but not terribly hard either, coming from guitar and bass.
Perhaps the worst thing about working overnights is there's no convienient time to drink alcohol. I'm not really in the mood when I get out at 6am to drink a pint or take a swig of Jameson's. Drinking before work would be a nightmare of epic proportions. So it's all gotta be saved for the weekends. This past Saturday I was at the newly christened "Twin River" formerly "Lincoln Park" formerly "Lincoln Downs" and formerly probably something before that too. Through my smoothass work connections some friends and I hit up the Jackie Martling stand up comedy show at "Catch a Rising Star", a pretty nice new comedy club in the renovated part of the "not a casino". The only problem with this is walking through the gaggle of geriatric blue hairs dragging oxygen tanks in tandem with their Newport Lights 100s. The main floor is the last place people can smoke indoors, and it's pretty gross getting hit with the wall of cancer after not having to deal with it for the past several years.
Anyway, we ended up with another friend of ours who was working "Hot 106 Night" at the Irish pub down the hall from the comedy club. She looked pretty funny up there peddling Hot 106 prize packs with a classic rock/Irish soundtrack behind her. Anyway, after she got off duty, she matched me carbomb for carbomb and everyone got fairly wrecked. Fun times.
This is my Friday (well i guess it is technically Friday now...but, I'm off until next week anyway) so I am more antsy to get out of here than usual. Hence me rambling off as I am. Being on vacation next week doesn't help things either.
Fuck it. Anyways, go easy...step lightly...stay free.
It's been said many times, but it still stuns me that people regress into total retards anytime it snows or rains. Especially when it rains. You'd think people had never seen rain before, the way they were driving tonight. With every day that goes by, my patience for people and humanity in general wanes greatly.
Right now, all I'd like to do is sit on my couch with my banjo or guitar and ignore the world. It would be really cool to have a cabin out in Maine or NoCal or something. I'd just sit on the porch all day and pick out songs and entertain myself. In all actuality, with the amount of taxes I pay living in Providence, I could probably afford 1000 acres in Montana, where I could fully blossom my solitary lifestyle.
Phil Spector should be given a pass whether he murdered that woman or not. The man is responsible for "Be My Baby", "Baby, I Love You", "Unchained Melody", "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'", George Harrison's "All Things Must Pass" album and the Ramones' "End of the Century". Even if he did it, she probably deserved it somehow. At the very least, she had to have been aware of his history. Her bad judgement. Also, screw Ronnie Spector for not acknowledging Phil at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He not only wrote and produced all the songs she sang, but came up with the Ronettes image and that whole scene, too.
My iPod crashed last night, coincidently after adding the Phil Spector "Back to Mono" boxed set into it. What a pain in the ass that is. Thankfully, my main libary is safe and sound on my home drive, but I still need to reload the iPod by going through the 29000 songs I have in there to pick my 3000 or so favorites. Now, the computer that that drive is on has some sort of fucking adware virus on it that slows it up. I think its called SideWind or something like that. I need to get someone who knows what the hell they're doing over to fix that, and hopefully not wipe my drive. 'Cuz if i have to reload all my CDs again...I'll...I dont know. I can't imagine that nightmare.
This is the Pogues and the Dubliners teamed up performing "The Irish Rover" in 1987. I'm a few weeks late for St. Patrick's Day, but what the hell. I hope oneday to have a fine white beard like Ronnie Drew. I also hope to never have teeth like Shane MacGowan.
As a bonus, here's a video of Shane very drunk. even if you don't watch the video above, check this one out, it's pretty funny. After this, I'll cool it with the Pogues, I promise.
I came across some great pictures of the New York City Pogues Show I saw over at this website.
I'll put a few up here with my comments.
Here's a great shot of the full 8 piece band. (Left to right: Terry Woods (cittern), Philip Chevron (guitar), James Fearnley (accordian), Andrew Rankin (drums), Shane MacGowan (in wheelchair, vocals), Darryl Hunt (bass), Spider Stacy (whistle and vocals), Jem Finer (banjo).
Here's Shane singing away with Terry Woods on the mandolin.
Spider Stacy takes his vocal turn on the best song from the post-Shane era "Tuesday Morning".
Philip Chevron takes his turn on one of my favorites, "Thousands are Sailing".
Drummer Andrew Rankin (who looks remarkably like Tony Bristol in person) takes the lead vocal on the traditional tune "Star of The County Down."
Shane MacGowan, complete with pints of beer and bottle of wine. Not visible: Whiskey bottle.
These are just a few of the many great shots over at this guy's flickr site. Check it out if you're so inclined.
Working overnights is a terrible thing. Besides the pay raise, there's absolutely nothing good about it. My sleep schedule is all messed up, sleeping during the day, and I'm in a haze for the rest of the time I'm awake. Hopefully, this is a temporary thing.
Anyways, I still have my vacation next month to look forward to, but I'm not really looking forward to the plane ride with my back in the situation that it's still in. I still can't really sit without considerable pain. This should make a 6 hour flight tons o' fun. I still have muscle relaxers, ambien, and vicodin, so hopefully some combination of that will help me get through it. Only problem with the vacation is once it's over, there's nothing to look forward to besides more overnight drudgery.
Anyway, I did get a smil out a little earlier when I remembered the Warning/Guarantee that Frank Zappa put on some of his 80's recordings:
"WARNING/GUARANTEE: This album contains material which a truly free society would neither fear nor surpress. In some socially retarded areas, religious fanatics and ultra-conservative political organizations violate your First Amendment Rights by attempting to censor rock & roll albums. We feel that this is un-Constitutional and un-American. As an alternative to these government-supported programs (designed to keep you docile and ignorant), Barking Pumpkin is pleased to provide stimulating digital audio entertainment for those of you who have outgrown -the ordinary-. The language and concepts contained herein are GUARANTEED NOT TO CAUSE ETERNAL TORMENT IN THE PLACE WHERE THE GUY WITH THE HORNS AND THE POINTED STICK CONDUCTS HIS BUSINESS. This guarantee is as real as the threats of the video fundamentalists who use attacks on rock music in their attempt to transform America into a nation of check-mailing nincompoops (in the name of Jesus Christ). If there is a hell, its fires wait for them, not us."
We really could use the man's style and wit these days.
Finally, on a completely different note, I recently came across the most depressing website of all time. http://www.mydeathspace.com links to myspace pages of those who recently died. There's drunk driving accidents, overdoses, suicides, cancer, and more. It's pretty sad, but morbidly interesting. Especially the notes left on the pages of the departed. Check it out if you want to feel really depressed.
See you next time. Remember, "NO TICKIE, NO LAUNDRY".
Here's a great shot of the full 8 piece band. (Left to right: Terry Woods (cittern), Philip Chevron (guitar), James Fearnley (accordian), Andrew Rankin (drums), Shane MacGowan (in wheelchair, vocals), Darryl Hunt (bass), Spider Stacy (whistle and vocals), Jem Finer (banjo).
Here's Shane singing away with Terry Woods on the mandolin.
Spider Stacy takes his vocal turn on the best song from the post-Shane era "Tuesday Morning".
Philip Chevron takes his turn on one of my favorites, "Thousands are Sailing".
Drummer Andrew Rankin (who looks remarkably like Tony Bristol in person) takes the lead vocal on the traditional tune "Star of The County Down."
Shane MacGowan, complete with pints of beer and bottle of wine. Not visible: Whiskey bottle.
