RELIEF OR THERAPY?

     We are mindful of the weather misery being visited on so many places this winter, so as a momentary refuge we offer an image to warm you.

      Palm Springs in winter is a slice of heaven. We know the opposite. There were so many days when ice and snow crud slashed the view from my office windows, or when I bundled in extra layers and pulled on thermal boots to field an assignment that I would resort to looking at screen savers of California climes. For readers who find themselves needing a change of scenery, these are for you.

Photo courtesy of Marcos

        We wish you the best as you endure. Your summer scenes will return, in time.

      It was about this time of year when I wondered why pioneers and settlers pushing west didn't consider the assaults of winter back east, in the mid west, or in the Great Plains and decide to get the heck out of there as soon as spring arrived.

a tale of two women

      I try to avoid seeing Sarah Huckabee Sanders, deputy press secretary. I've watched decades of White House press briefers and she must be among the worst. Maybe she's smart, but it is not evident. Maybe she has class and a great personality, but again they are not in evidence. She's a horrible mouth piece and the fact she's working for who she does just lowers any skills she might possess and be hiding. 
      It happens I got a glimpse of one of her abusive sessions as I was about to take a stroll along Palm Springs' Walk of Fame. I guess I was grousing to myself about how far we have fallen when, serendipitously, I came upon a star, made poignant by a recent passing in Palm Springs.

what a difference

photo courtesy of uproxx.com

 sour

photo courtesy of allmusic.com

sweet

    I was 12 or 13 when I caught Keely Smith with Louis Prima on television. I was hooked. Rock was in its infancy and if we were tuned to the right radio station we could hear Buddy Holly, Ricky Nelson, the Everly Brothers, Duane Eddy, Elvis, Little Richard, Jackie Wilson, and a lot of other stuff that wasn't rock. Female singers were rare. Connie Francis had a hit or two, but she did not smoulder like Keely Smith.

    Prima's band, featuring Sam Butera was hot. A hybrid of sorts-jazz, R&B, big band swing and all with a New Orleans accent and that beautiful Cherokee Irish lass. Hybrid indeed, my introduction to jazz and the start of a young teen lust for Keely Smith.

    In the mental mumbling and rambling I do at the turn of the year, especially this year, that juxtaposition between Huckabee Sanders and the Keely Smith memory lane underscored how much of a chasm there is between how a young lad thought things would turn out and the absurdist reality of the world today, especially datelined Washington.

     So here's some therapy-take a stroll back, even to black and white television when the future looked good, and the present felt good and when it sounded great-and maybe even a little sultry. These are all short-as songs used to be.

Bet they'll make you smile.

Just A Gigolo 

and here's the oldest version of Old Black Magic

(might have been what I saw on tv)

      See you down the trail.

A SCOTS BLUFF-HAWKE MAKES BLUE-AND TO THE BRIDE!

Like a Scot's Wind

  English, Scots, Irish and a blend of Brit genealogies have  settled in Cambria and on the central coast. 

  Windswept bluffs and plenty of room to ramble are appealing and familiar.

   Legroom with views.

 

   Expansive heath where land joins sea.

   Wind and surf in chorus.

     This area "speaks" to some of our DNA.

Born To Be Blue
will make you blue

    Chet Baker is one of those great talents who let demons direct his life and Born To Be Blue, currently in release, is an artful film that tells the story very well.  

     Ethan Hawke, who studied the trumpet and who sang, turns in a superb performance capturing the genius and torture of Chet Baker. Baker was a better singer than Hawke but the entire score and musical ambiance of the film is masterful. Cool and blue jazz and the essence of mellow.The film ventures into a little bop, thanks to the Dizzy Gillespie shading in the plot. Then there is Miles Davis and the script's hint that Baker was pained to get Mile's respect, even to the point of destructive behavior.

     Hawke is good throughout, but the scene where he stares into the mirror in the dressing room at Birdland while fighting with himself about whether to take methadone or to fire up a fix of smack is riveting and is the distilled crux of the story. Born To Be Blue is directed by Canadian Robert Budreau who has made award winning shorts. Brit Carmen Ejogo is excellent in her double role as Elaine and Jane.

     It is an art film, playing in limited distribution about a tortured artist who lived to play the trumpet and shoot heroin, so you won't leave with a smile. It's not for everyone, but if you like Baker's music, Jazz, good story telling and excellent acting it's a good 90 some minutes. Hard to beat the music.

                           

Happy Anniversary

   After all these years you are still my beautiful bride

and I'm more in love every day. 

A Sweet Finale

    Giovanni the maestro at Harmony Cafe at the Pewter Plough does many things well including his own take on Zucatto. This was a recent "experiment."  We lab animals were swooning very quickly after this photo. "Heavenly" was a consensus.

     See you down the trail.

THE NIGHT LIFE-BISTROS-DALE HANSEN ON GAY IN THE NFL----THE WEEKENDER

BEFORE THE STARS 

meditations on a setting sun

  THE START OF EVENING  

    Bistro workers in the last of the sun's rays. Quiet before the crowd.

   The bistro exudes invitation as the darkness falls.

     A quiet moment before the hum of diners and merry-makers. The scene below conjures romance or intrigue.

     Musical venues abound on the central coast.  Below, virtuoso Keith Saunders shows why he's beloved in New York, LA and San Francisco. He was appreciated by Jazz Artists Series listeners at D'Anbino Wineries' music stage.

A COMMENTARY WORTH NOTING
Sportscaster Dale Hansen on an openly gay NFL player

FINDING THE MOON

    See you down the trail.

REMEMBERING WES & PACIFIC ART

THAT CAT CAN PLAY

     Jazz radio hosts are remembering the great Wes Montgomery on this the 90th anniversary of his birth. Even though I'm a Caucasian with no musical talent I feel a kinship to the guitarist from Indianapolis.

     First,  there is the hometown connection. Then several years ago I worked with Wes's brother, Buddy, a great player in his own right in trying to develop a documentary on Wes.  We couldn't get a buyer, but the time working with Buddy and hearing tales was a thrill.

     I got hooked on jazz when I was a high school kid who'd listen to rhythm & blues and jazz radio.  I had to be in the minority of whites, especially young whites, who listened.

     I was working in the mid-town area at an FM station known for it's classical and semi classical play list, but I'd listen to a small station that played jazz.  My station was in the heart of the city, in an old hotel that at the time was known as a place for hookers, working out of the marbled bar and lobby. The jazz station was further east, in what had become an industrial neighborhood, near the giant RCA plant. I'd drive through that area on the way into my Saturday and Sunday shifts, from noon to 1:00 AM. One day I had filled in for a regular staff guy and on the way home decided to stop in at the jazz station.

      I knew the Dearborn Hotel, because I played in a basketball league that played in the famous little gym there. I punched the elevator button for the top floor and passed through levels of aroma.  There was stale smoke smell of the lobby, the gym smell, food and what I call old hotel aromas.  There was a buzzer on a door at the end of the hall that displayed the station's call letters. I was about to leave after a couple of punches when a black man with slicked backed hair, a goatee and wearing a white shirt and tie asked "What can I do for you sunny?"

      I explained my mission, told him of my love of jazz and he bid me entry into a small office, stacked full of records and a couple of desks cluttered with broadcast logs-records of the music and commercials played.  We sat in the studio over looking the neighborhood, toward the downtown and chatted.  He was a jazz player too. He'd played with Wes and the great JJ Johnson among others.  

      I think he was amazed to count among his listeners a white suburban high school boy, but he seemed thrilled just to know the music "crossed over."  

     I was struck by a comment about Wes.  

     "He is one fine negro gentleman, and man that cat can play."

     That was back in the early 60's.  From that era here are a couple of videos of the great Wes Montgomery.

     The first tune is an original-Jingles

Here he is with a couple of other legends.

    Man, that cat can play!

PACIFIC BLUFF ART

 

    See you down the trail.

THE GREAT ONES

REMEMBERING GREATNESS

     Reading of the election difficulties of two long time US Senators, Richard Lugar of Indiana and Oren Hatch of Utah renewed a nagging thought.  From where are the new "Lions" coming?  Generally, and this is a purely subjective take, the quality of upper chamber, the US Senate, has been in steep decline over the last decade.

       There was a time when men and women of conviction and deep political differences could legislate. There was a time when our Federal legislature was not mired in a morass of gridlock, petty interests, cheap hustles, and political gamesmanship above all else.  

        If you doubt that, then regard those times in our history when we recovered from war, helped Japan and Europe rebuild and re-tool, led the way in manufacturing, education, medical research, science, when the economy grew, and there was a sense of prosperity and hope.  It took an obliging, motivating, visionary Senate and even House.

       Here's a way to spend a few educational moments.

Link to this historical list of members of Senate. 

       Some of the names will recall history lessons. Others will remind you of people of skill. Here's just a few names, from our era, to say nothing of the historic Henry Clays or William Jennings Bryans, etc.

       Everett Dirksen, John Foster Dulles, Margret Chase Smith, Lyndon Johnson, Estes Kefauver, Barry Goldwater,

Mike Mansfield, Stu Symington, Alben Barkley, Clifford Case, Jacob Javits, William Promire, John Tower, Edward Kennedy, Abe Ribicoff, George McGovern, Birch Bayh, Edward Brooke,

Mark Hatfield, Harold Hughes, Robert Dole, Richard Schwieker, Robert Taft, Lowell Weicker, Hubert Humphrey, Sam Nunn, et al.

      These people were not saints, nor necessarily towering luminaries, but they were legislators, capable of working, achieving compromise and serving the interest of the Republic and the Senate.  Do you think some of the newly elected, or those circling to get in are of this calibre?  Perhaps some are unless they come in as "true believers" in an ideology over the common good of all. 

REMEMBERING A JAZZ GREAT

A CAMBRIA LOCAL

FOR JAZZ FANS

   Our unique village said good bye to one of our unique 

citizens, Red Holloway a jazz and blues legend.  Here is a 

five minute video with just a few of the highlights from

what was an extraordinary jazz and blues tribute Sunday

afternoon.  

       I shot this with a IPhone, so you are not going to see

a master production, but it will give you a taste.

      I suggest you click the youtube icon and watch it in a larger format

LOCAL COLOR

     And here in less than 30 seconds is a glimpse of 

the famed Morro Rock-one of the Great Icons of the 

central coast.

See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER :) COOL

JAZZ MEMORIES

AND

A TALENTED BRO

Last weeks posting of Dave Brubeck's Take Five

and attendant memories, brought one more from the back

of the brain.

I wish I could remember his name, but I am grateful

to an upperclassman  who lived on my freshman

dorm floor. He walked with a brace, the result of

polio, so he had a single room near an exit. With the

extra space he had converted it to a "pad" complete

with shelves, a chair, lamps and a stereo system.

The room was full of jazz albums and on Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons, when most of us were doing the kind of things college freshmen did, he had his door open and the jazz was wailing.  There were no complaints, though he always made sure he was not interrupting study.

Not a likely event!

A few of us would gather into his room and he would

pick tunes and give us a little tutorial.  One of his

favorites, and already one of mine was the

piece the THE WEEKENDER :) offers for your

Saturday Groove.

  and one more cool thing

About a year ago a group of fraternity brothers who

have stayed in touch, re-connected with Steve

who was a married senior our freshman year.

Steve Clippinger has had a marvelous

career as an artist.  Part of the joy 

in getting to know Steve is to see

his incredible body of work.

Here's a WEEKENDER :) bonus

See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER:) TAKE FIVE

THE CLASSIC

Dave Brubeck's TAKE FIVE took me out of a rock and

pop world into jazz back in high school.  I found a 

jazz station on the dial and was hooked, though my

buddies barely tolerated it on my car radio. 

I enjoyed being able to punch back and forth between say,

Satisfaction by the Stones and and Sidewinder by Lee Morgan. When they drove it was all Beatles, Stones,
Beach Boys, Dave Clark Five, etc.  That was fine
but jazz held a special allure.
As a school kid I worked in the downtown area of Indianapolis  as a "stringer" and gofer for the Indianapolis Times and as a board operator for a "fine music" FM station headquartered in an old hotel.  Well the jazz station was on the top floor of another hotel that I passed on my commute.  I'd stop by that hotel, buzz at the studio door and be ushered into warren of an album filled rooms. 
"Look around kid, see what you like." 
The DJ's were not like the
pop star jocks at the rock stations.  These guys were older, both black and white, musicians themselves and
somewhat tickled that a white middle class kid
was hooked on jazz.  
It all started when I first heard Brubeck's piano and Paul Desmond's sax.  
So the Weekender :) wants you to dig it.

See you down the trail.

AN EVENING AT THE PAINTED SKY

A CAMBRIA CULTURAL CENTER

It looks a bit time worn and ramshackle
but the building above is a part of Cambria History.
It's been several things, but most famously the Bucket of Blood Saloon, going back to when cowboys, miners and fishermen were patrons in this Central California coastal enclave. Local lore has it, the last stabbing in town was here.
But its more recent history has made it a cultural center.
For over a decade this has been the Painted Sky recording
studio. The famous and near famous have come here to
lay down track in the acoustic splendor of the old building
near a side street. For as good as it is as a recording studio,
what has enshrined it in the hearts of modern Cambria are
concert nights-an evening at the Painted Sky.

IT'S SHOW TIME

Owner Steve Crimmel and producers
have booked talent, some of whom are working on a disc,

into the intimate, "house concert" like setting of the
enchanted room. Blues, jazz, swing, blue grass, Celtic,
classical, country, cowboy, rock and vocal artists, including
big names and stars, have played here.  

In his low key, no hustle way, Steve
thanks people for supporting live music and
introduces the act. The studio is configured to seat
between 50 and 70 people with everyone having a
perfect seat.

The courtyard is transformed for intermission
cheer and community.

 On this night Ray Bonneville, a master of 
swampy blues and guitar opened.
Ray has played with BB King, Muddy Waters, Robert Cray
among others.

Extraordinary jazz and blues vocalist

Jude Johnstone and her superb band

headlined. Jude's songs have been recorded 
by Bonnie Raitt, Johnny Cash, Trish Yearwood and others.

I've seen live music in a multitude of venues-
from arenas to jazz caverns.  The Painted Sky
is among the all time tops.  The sound of the room is 
exceptional, the intimacy between artist and audience is
legendary, and it is an "only in Cambria" kind of mood
and presence.

From my first visit, before being a resident, when
I read the old Thurber quote in courtyard, and watched and 
listened as people in this village shared an evening with a 
legendary old blues man, I was sure this was indeed a 
cultural center of a unique west coast village
half way between LA and San Francisco.
Unique and beloved indeed.

Thanks to Steve for all the many great evenings.
It appears the building's landlords want to shut the studio
so they can use the building a storage space for 
antiques-left over inventory from a west Hollywood
business they are closing.  
What a shame for such a cultural center and 
historic building.
What a shame for the loss of those special
evenings a the Painted Sky.
Great memories indeed!
See you down the trail.

THE CUBA FILE-STREET SCENES

MAKING DUE

       There is a great shot everywhere you look in Havana. The setting and action of 

this frame captures the rich Latin blend of life in Cuba.  An old car, set against a decaying old colonial era edifice is the object of what is true determination, creativity and genius.

Think of the challenge of maintaining a relic, without benefit of parts, imports, or service centers. Improvising and making due is what they do.

        The street entreprenuer above is taking apart and refilling old lighters with bug spray. His business was brisk.

        Make shift rehearsal areas abound, as does the great Cuban jazz.  I was surprised
by the number of musicians spotted around neighborhoods jamming away.

       Look at the age of this car, that serves in this moment as a music stand.  These 
guys were incredible.  

       When much of the world has gone wireless, the majority of Cubans rely on clearly
antiquated phone systems.

       Cubans play great baseball.  Not unlike the stick ball of New York city, these guys
find a way to convert a block of Havana into a playing arena.

       For almost a half a century the Island nation has lived with the ravages of deterioration.  A revolutionary political and socialist economic meltdown, Soviet heavy handedness and then abandonment and the stringent US economic embargo.  Despite
the adversity, Cubans find a way to carry on and with a joy in those things that bring them pleasure, despite having to improvise or make due.
       Stay tuned for more from our Cuban file.  (See the Post of June 15 2011.)
       See you down the trail.