HE KNOWS WHO I AM

BEING THERE

    Joy in this season, or any other, is seeing parents or family members watching their kids in chorales, plays, skits, ballets, concerts and the other performances that make this season so merry.

       Love is modeled best whenever it happens and we get to absorb a large gift of it during the holidays. Seeing proud parents and those little communications from kid back to them is a heart-warming information loop. It's good for all of us.

DECEMBER FLIGHT AT MORRO BAY

CHRISTMAS GHOSTS

  Dickens demonstrated for us how Christmas ghosts play a role.  Don't you think memories morph into a kind of apparition?  I think of old stories as becoming a kind of ghost of times passed. 

THE GRIZZLED VET

     You may need a context for this.  

      

Bruce Taylor, a.k.a. CatalystDecember 10, 2012 5:22 PM

I would just like it recorded here that, in spite of my post recently, I have never known this man nor do I know him now.

A Story AS Response

        That goofy shot from the beach where swim suit and the beach chair matched the color of peppers on the grill prompted the above comment.  You would know this if you read the comments below the post.

        Despite the denunciation re-printed above, his recent post about our long friendship, renegade forays at political conventions and other carrying on is mostly true, as either of us remember those years of "pedal to the metal" television news.

         It started in radio.  My first day on the metro news staff of the 50 thousand watt "Voice of News" found me assigned to shadow the veteran Bruce Taylor.  It was the pre computer era and the old line station had truly been the Voice of News for the state capitol. Unimaginable today, our radio news staff was larger than one or two of the television stations in the city.  It competed with the  three, then two, daily newspapers to break stories.

         I had been hired to work 3PM to Midnight, starting my day by picking up city government and/or state house leads before sources left their office or the bars some retreated to. Then I moved into our cubicle at the "cop shop" to cover police, sheriff, fire and emergency news.  At some point in the evening I went back to the studio where I wrote and produced the 15 minute 10:00 PM news.  I was to learn that newscast had thousands of listeners, many of whom had listened for years.  Back then people would get what they needed from our cast and didn't need to wait up until the late local TV news.

        Taylor had been working that beat for a while. I'd heard him on the air.  He wrote great copy, used a lot sound in stories, had a very professional big market style. Here I was, the new kid from a smaller market getting my orientation from the old vet.

        He wore a pin stripped shirt, mint green as a I recall, and an orange patterned tie, loose at the neck, as he sauntered into the news room.  His jacket was on his finger over his shoulder, he carried a cup of coffee, a cigarette clamped in his teeth.  His face and eyes said this was a guy who you could not bull shit.

      Our boss, a legendary radio news man and ex sailor, who swore better than the best, said something about "glad he could make it!" 
      "It was one of those kind of nights,"  Taylor shot back. 
       He looked to me like a guy who probably was a veteran of those "kind of nights."   
      I was a year out of college and had worked radio news in a medium sized factory town.  I'd been around a little bit, but I knew this guy Taylor was from the major leagues in being around.  

      We'd been dispatched to a north side shopping mall where a works project had changed the flow of water and several shops had been flooded.  It's hard not to be impressed by a guy who smokes, drinks coffee, talks on the two way radio and drives like a bat out of hell simultaneously.  
       Heading to our first assignment I thought a couple of things; man, this new job is going to be a blast!  And what a cool dude Taylor is.  He even liked jazz. That was a start to a friendship that for many years existed in those famous letters he wrote of.

      So, let him deny knowing me now, but let me tell you this.  Lana and I showed up in Phoenix one year for our periodic visit.  I was surprised when Bruce met us at the airport.

        "I thought you had to work," I said.

        "I quit.  They didn't give me the weekend off, so screw em!"

         We had a wonderful weekend up in Zane Grey country and created another story or two, as we always seem to do.

        Some time we should tell you about the Democratic mid term convention in the Kansas City landmark Muehlebach Hotel.  Here's the teaser-Bruce, a friend who is now a respected broadcast executive, a woman who ran for congress and I find our way into the deep innards of the old hotel.  It was a portion of a floor that had been walled off and had not been remodeled as the rest of the hotel had been.  It was a kind of 1940's pastiche of old hotel in decline. We were in a Felliniesque scene. It looked like an old conference room, now a storage area of dated furniture and other discarded stuff on the way to being junk.  

         Cutting to the chase-Taylor is jamming away on an old piano, clunking out a version of Sentimental Journey. The lady is singing, someone is pounding on a chair bottom like a drum and someone is trying to modulate the blast of a fire extinguisher to ape a trumpet when we are suddenly interrupted in our dusty jam session, by a Secret Service contingent. The lead guy asks "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

         All of that was early in the evening. It gets more interesting when Hubert Humphrey and George Wallace work into our evening.

        Don't believe for a moment what he wrote above!

See you down the trail.

       

AS GOOD AS IT GETS & A LITTLE COLOR

EXTRAORDINARY

     An exquisite evening- Strings in the Chapel with the voices of Jude and Ra Johnstone, the writing of Judith Larmore and the traditional "T'was the night..." from Bruce Black. This California village was at its creative best.

       A deep star field wrapped around the candle lit Chapel on the crest of the hill presiding over the east village. A garland of sparkling luminescence cloaked the shrub in front of the white wood and the walk way. The  shimmery glow on the top of the hill beckoned Cambrians who made the steep pilgrimage. A mellow spirit filled the fresh air, rich with pine and hints of the sea.

      143 years of community mingled with those in place on this night; extraordinary players-violins, cello, viola, harp, guitar and the villagers, anticipating the magic of a special night, unique in a settlement of talent, authenticity and eccentricities.

     And powerful the music was.  Young Ra Johnstone's a capella opening of Amazing Grace prompted tears and lumps in the throat which only intensified when her accomplished mom, Jude, joined in.  The mood was set.  Virtuoso string performances of classic, traditional,  contemporary music and carols--poetry and the vivid time shifting story and message from Judith as the bow on the gift of this special night. This little village tucked beneath Monterey Pines between the Pacific and the Santa Lucia Mountains is accustomed to the best from California players. The candle lit second Saturday in December, in the acoustically charmed chapel, is something even more.

     I wish everyone could have sipped of this extraordinary night of flickering light, strings, voices and memories on a Christmas watch where 143 Advent seasons have been greeted.

Photo Courtesy of Santa Rosa Chapel -Cambria Ca.

   

MATCHING COLORS

Photo by Lana Cochrun. Taken a few seasons ago on Sanibel Island Florida.

     Sorry, I was just struck by the similarity of color.

     See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER- That time...

Merriement

     Merriment and good cheer are afoot. Smiles and greetings abound.

A Variation
My dad, a WWII vet and a big band dance era fan enjoyed Como and loved this...

       

hospitality night

   The Cambria American Legion post offers free hot dogs and hot chocolate and a warm fire.

  If you read this elsewhere-hospitality night is when locals graze their way through the east and west village merchants with stops along the way, most offering food and or drink.  It is a bazaar of tastes and mingling.  A social evening and high spirits.

     COMING SOON

Zebras at the Pacific

Next week.

You need to be a certain age to understand......

     Laughing at memories today with Paul, another media vet.  Crystal radios-those tiny little crystal rocks that we would run a hair like strip over until we found a frequency or signal, heard through uncomfortable old ear phones-nothing like the ear buds of this generation or ear phones of the boomer youth.  We recall hard, plastic and uncomfortable pieces to hold to the ear for a faint radio signal.  

     Tis the season for memories and mirth.  

     See you down the trail.

SOUND THINKING

WHAT'S A REPUBLICAN TO DO

      An advantage of a life in journalism is friends from every political persuasion.  My Republican friends have been singing the blues, but one fellow in particular says the party is likely to be locked out of the White House for many years.  I'm not so sure of that, but I agree that some of the self loathing is on target.

      Recent polls show most Americans blame Republicans for the self imposed flagellation called a fiscal cliff. Business people worry the Republicans will refuse to budge and will be the reason for another recession. The sequestration mean massive cuts to defense spending, some of which could have negative impact on national security. He says the party will be blamed for that.

      My friend believes the public impression is that Republicans are sore losers.  President Obama's re election validated his economic view of the future.  He notes that before the election the Fox News Analysts were predicting a Romney "landslide."  Ironically the numbers they cited were less than the Obama "mandate" in both popular and electoral college votes.  He also talks about the "Fox effect."

      The Fox News right of center tilt and punditry post, amplifies everything.  The Republican and Fox position was rejected by a majority of Americans, but they appear to be unable to bend to the will of the majority and accept defeat.  

      What about all of the Republicans returned to the house where they maintain a majority I asked?  First he said, the House is a "joke" populated by "dimwits" and "bull shit artists" of both parties.  As for the double message of an Obama win and a re-election of a Republican majority-  some of that is just the way districts are drawn but "even the biggest fool should understand that."  Or he adds, "it's like the voters say we like you and what you've done for us, but pay attention to the big picture."

      I've noticed that he and a handful of other long time-I call them centrist Republicans-are not against changes in our tax code.  

      We are at the lowest tax rate in decades. Back when the rate was higher "people were still making money, corporations were earning, investments were being made."

      I asked him about who the Republican constituency is or should be.

      "That's the trouble.  We don't have one. Being the lap dog for the richest percentage of Americans won't work any more.  We need a connection with real working Americans. And we need to quit watching Fox News."

      And I would add to that tell Grover Norquist to take a long walk off a short pier.

                                    DAY FILE

HINT OF IMPRESSIONISM

   See you down the trail.

IT'S A GUIDE TO HAPPY

THE TREE

    It's embarrassing to think how hard we worked on finding the perfect tree during our first seasons together. One year it took several days, it seems scouring the state. It became a point of contention each year, so I defaulted to letting Lana make the choice.

      Now we are more easily content. Maturity? Laziness? A desire to give an ugly tree a home? Probably, but it doesn't matter.

     Just having the green and the old ornaments together again is a gift until itself.  And choosing up here in the village is pure Cambria-friendly, easy, laid back and cheery.  

     Still there is that issue of the lights and the cosmic riddle of why they don't work-but a brilliant daughter and a driven Lana tackle that. My skill comes in placing the Dickens figures on just the right branch, and putting the angel atop the scene. And pouring the egg nog!

    The garden center provided many choices of tree. Being from Oregon you can probably smell the freshness.

  We found one quickly. It needs only a little rehabilitation. 

DRIFTING INTO THE MOOD

     Then into the twinkle house where you automatically

become a kid. Wonder lurks in this season.

    It probably helps to maintain a festive spirit when we know this is the only snow we'll need to navigate-unless we want to drive a half day to ski country.  Not going to happen though.
    See you down the trail.

MAKING TWEAKS

DIVERSIONS, WHILE WAITING FOR THE 

LEMMING EFFECT

     There ought to be a law that when ever some says

"fiscal cliff" they must automatically add "the self inflicted flagellation of an inept Congress shape shifting into lemmings." 

     Has a society ever executed politicians for stupidity?

Is that a conversation we should have?

SEASONAL COLOR ADJUSTMENTS

     It happened as rapidly as mushrooms pop up.  California's

Central Coast went from the colors of autumn to an early

    greening after the two or so inches of rain last week.

     While areas of the Napa Valley and Sonoma wine regions were flooded, the Paso Robles appellation got less rain and 

   and has begun the transition to what many dream of- a green Christmas!. 

  And so while some of my eastern and mid west friends prepare for blankets of snow and ice, the green season has come to California.

  See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER-INTO THE WAY BACK MACHINE

DIALING BACK

       Ever have a word or idea just leap into your head?  Not sure why or where it came from?  That's how Ish Kabibble got here.

Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia

       Kabibble was a radio and movie player in the 40's and 50's, part of Kay Kyser's Kollege of Musical Knowledge which my parents listened to.  In chasing down the origin of this odd and invading name, I come back to my mother and a great aunt who used to laugh at Kabibble, or at least the name.

     He started off to be a lawyer, Merwyn Bogue, but his comedic skills landed him in Kay Kyser cast.  Maybe the atmospheric storms raking the California Coast dislodged the funny man from deep in the brain.  BTW Ish Kabibble is said to be from a mock Yiddish expression meaning "I should worry?"  

    Here's a sample of the Kay Kyser comedy from a simpler time in America.

FURTER TIME TRAVELS

   It's the early 60's and this very white kid in middle America is searching the radio dial at night for music that had soul.  Some people in those days called it "race music."   I could dial in a station from Nashville, WLAC that filled the night with R&B, Rhythm and Blues. I heard music there unlike anything else on the airwaves.  

    Somehow, by a fluke of nature which radio engineers have told me was impossible I also heard the strains of something called Ska.  It was from Jamaica and was the progenitor of Reggae and Rock Steady.  

    There was an artist that my middle class, middle American, white friends could never imagine-Justin Hinds and the Dominoes.  This is the first step on the path to Reggae.

       Rock Steady and then Reggae were more up tempo, and a richer form of music that would have immense impact on Rock and jazz.  What may be curious to some is that Ska, like early Reggae was also equal parts politics and religion.

"Better to seek a home in Mount Zion High

Instead of keeping oppression upon an innocent man

But time will tell on you, you old jezebel

As the musical idiom grew and gave birth to Reggae

Justin Hinds and the Dominoes changed too

       So to both of my daughters, true Reggae fans, this has been a little footnote to your dad's history-how on dark midwestern nights a white teen searched the atmosphere for a sound that all of these years later thrills you.

    Ish Kabibble to Reggae?  All on the radio!

    Must be some powerful atmospheric currents bouncing between the Pacific and the mountains eh? What, I should worry?

     Happy listening.  Have a good weekend.

     See you down the trail.