Saturday, September 27, 2014
Friday, September 26, 2014
All these years under the bridge, and also standing on the bridge. Forty four years ago today I discovered how nervous I was maybe twenty minutes before we said I Do. Or I think we said I Do. We could have said anything at all, I can't remember.
I feel sure my new wife promised to honor and obey me, but she says it never happened, especially the obey part. I remember how hard we searched to find a clergyman who would not use the word "God," but in the end he did.
My friend and best man locked himself in the flower freezer at the nursery and barely made it out alive.
The fool across the street tied tin cans on our rental car and chalked "Amateur Night" across the rear window.
I remember my new mother-in-law, so ill and trying so hard to smile, which she most certainly did, as she talked with my mom. We are so much older now than they were then.
Plandome, Long Island, Sept. 26 1970, me in the white suit and Barb in the white dress. She had made all the clothes, ours and her sister's too.
And then, BAM, out to the farm. And then Dan. And then to Miami and then to L.A. And then Bron. And then, BAM, Staci and Bellybone and then San Francisco and then Desmond. And Cuban food tonight. And there you have it, the whole works in one short paragraph. Up to here.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Orange, and Giants, but not THOSE Orange Giants.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
The Two Steves
Stevie Wonder is in Oakland on December 5. Won't miss that. Got us listening to old Stevie tunes this morning. When we got to "Superstition" -- how many better records than this have ever been made? -- we were struck by that amazing trumpet line, with the tremolo and the crazily perfect intonation. This was done, of course, in the days when you played it, you didn't correct it with electronics in the studio.
The trumpeter's name is Steve Madalo. Credit where credit is due.
So where is Steve Madalo? According to the internet, no one knows. Once one of the busiest session players around, when last heard from he was another great musician hanging out in Palm Springs, sitting in on the occasional gig, doing who knows what.
In the heydays of live recording, busy session players made a lot of money. I hope he's tanned, satisfied, happy and living well on residuals. It doesn't usually work out that way.
Meanwhile, Stevie Wonder goes on and on. Thankfully.
Monday, September 22, 2014
It's Worth a Little Traffic
But we were there. It happened. The reason appears to be the traffic lights they do not sync up for drivers on that highway. Twenty cars go through a green light and then the endlessly long red makes hundreds more wait, stretched out for miles along the two-lane road.
(This will not be news to Blogmaid or anyone else who ever has to try to get through that awful light in Half Moon Bay on a weekend.)
Which is to say, Napa and Sonoma counties are beautiful places where TGP and Ducknik could happily spend 'way more time than they do. But living there, if you want to come back and forth to the city?
But geez, it's nice at Pickle's. Reading TIAPOS stories and eating great food out on her back patio is a really cool way to be artists. Can't imagine how it could get any better. Dexter thinks so too.
Thanks for these photos PJ.