Coke vs. Pepsi ~ that sort of thing.
You know how you have habits, activities and hobbies and then one day discover you have let them go? I used to have a Funky Signs section on the Refrigerator. I moved it to PopWars but I have not added a new one in quite a while.
Johnny used to contribute. Anne Havens sent us a bunch. Our friends, Pete and Shelley, are still on the lookout and they sent us this beauty the other day. See FUNKY SIGNS.
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We walk through the park and along the beach most days and prefer it when we have it all to ourselves. But then I love seeing the picnic shelters full on a hot summer day. We’re certainly not the only regular walkers so we see familiar faces and say hi as we pass. Most of the dog walkers are as friendly as can be, especially if you pet their dog, but once you have been bit a few times you get shy so we mostly keep our distance. A subset of the dog walkers ignore the “Dogs Must Be Leashed” signs and let their dogs take a dump wherever it likes while they talk on the phone. They are special and the rules do not apply to them or their dog. When their off-leash dogs come at us we call for their owners put them on a leash.
Today’s paper had an article about a small dog that was attacked and killed by another dog in Durand Eastman. The dogs were off leash. Someone called the cops while the attack was going on and the police responded and fired a shot at the larger dog when it ran toward them but they missed.
Just for the record, we’ve had dogs. We love dogs, especially Arya across the street. I wish it wasn’t up to us to enforce the “Dogs Must Be Leashed” rule.
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Already one week since the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble was here, a yearly affair for the last twenty or so. Our first time out after Covid. This performance was their sweetest yet. They had just played in New York and were and in the middle of a month long tour. Their last record was nominated for a Grammy so they are on a roll. They played the London Jazz Festival with Don Cherry’s siblings and their upcoming record will be dedicated to Cherry. It also includes a reinterpretation of my favorite Pharaoh Sanders song.
At the Bop Shop they opened with Kahil’s “A Time For Healing” and then Ornette’s “Lonely Woman,” Duke Ellington’s “Caravan,” Coltrane’s “Resolution” and “Great Black Music” which Kahil wrote for the Art Ensemble. This trio is amazing. I love how they cover so much musical terrain with a skeletal crew. Their room in their sound for you to savor how masterful each of these players are. Kahil’s kick drum, no port in the front and tuned as low it would go, sounded so good in that space. It is a joy to see how much fun they have with it all.
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The six part Showtime series, “George & Tammy,” is so good. When we finished the last episode we called our friends in Nashville, to encourage them to find a way to watch and just to talk George. Jessica Chastain made a fantastic Tammy Faye Bakker but she makes a better Tammy Wynette. Michael Shannon doesn’t really look or sound like George Jones but he embodies him. And both actors are so good it is thrill to watch them go for it.
The George and Tammy catalogs, both separate and together, form the foundation of classic country. Their life stories are legendary. They are untouchable as talents and stars. Chastain and Shannon sing their own parts in the movie knowing they can’t touch the originals. They pay tribute in their performances. We are all so familiar with the original versions of these classic songs, we can hear them in our head as Shannon reaches for notes only George could find. And it is fine that he can’t put as many notes in one syllable. No one but George can do that. They deepen your appreciation of the real George and Tammy.
Somehowww this all different than what cover bands do. I can’t put my finger on it. It is the same reason Karen Black in is so good in “Five Easy Pieces” when she sings Tammy’s “Don’t Touch Me” to Bobby.
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Not enough things rust anymore. Rust is beautiful. This guardrail has served it’s purpose for many years and it is now recycling itself. Plastic will be around forever.
I was grabbing some firewood from the porch when I spotted my neighbor, Jared, heading up to the mailbox. I called out to him to save him a trip. “Good luck finding your paper this morning.” None were delivered again. They can’t find a carrier. Jared hollered back, “The paper has gone to shit.”
I picked up my piece from RoCo’s Members Show and we took a walk around downtown. Fuego was closed by the time we got over there but it was warm and sunny so we just wandered. The city center just keeps changing and it is getting better in small ways. The stately buildings are all past their prime but could be saved. The oldest of the funky ones, at Main and Clinton, are begging for a rehab. The converted office and loft space is all nice and the brand new apartments look livable. But why are we still looking at an empty lot where the Manhattan restaurant was? Parcel 5, dead center, is ready for a windstorm. It’s not just the old pictures, it’s the ones in my living memory bank, where the streets were crowded with life that I can’t forget.
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I don’t think it is my imagination. I am getting better at going down rabbit holes. Our devices facilitate the ease, of course, but I have always preferred daydreaming to, well, just about anything. I installed the Bing app on my iPad this morning to check out its AI assisted super-powers.
I had seen the headlines about LaBron James toppling Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s record earlier and that prodded a few memories loose. Brother Tracey, my homeroom (and math teacher) at Bishop Kearney was always going on about his one of his former students, how when he was teaching at Power Memorial in NYC he suspended Lew Alcinder and that cost the basketball team their only loss in four years. Tracey was a short, wiry, little guy but mean disciplinarian. I remember him throwing a fellow student out of class for wearing cologne and I’m quite sure he was one of the Brothers who dished out the spanking that took place in the coatroom by the doors to the gym. So my first Bing search was for “Brother Tracey.”
I found an obit from 2010 and learned he left the Irish Christian Brothers order and moved to Geneva where he taught at DeSales High School. He married a woman named, Beryl, and had three children. His brothers-in-law were listed as Blaine, Bruce and Armand, the legendary House of Guitars brothers.
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We were ready to take a walk and I couldn’t find my black polar fleece jacket. It wasn’t in the closet, the bedroom, the living room. I looked everywhere before settling on one I wear when we chop wood. We took our walk and when we came back I realized I already had the jacket I was looking for on, under the one I had just put on.
For two days I layered a long sleeve t-shirt, a Smart Wool shirt, a cotton sweater, a wool sweater and then the polar fleece jacket I was looking for. I wore my wool hat in the house, I slept with it on. I had chills, a crushing headache, every joint was sore. I felt like someone had beaten the shit of me. And then Peggi tested positive, just in time for her birthday.
We had planned to stay overnight in the Finger Lakes, maybe look for some snow to ski on, but we cancelled those reservations. We took a walk at the beach and could only get halfway out the pier before the ice got too dangerous. We plan to start a fire out back, open a bottle of Spanish wine, cook our meal out there and then watch Real Madrid play. The sunshine is the perfect birthday gift.
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The first thing Colleen said to us was, “This is the first time I’ve seen you here without masks.” We didn’t think we were being that cautious. She was standing by the door of her studio on First Friday and we were there for the opening of Madeline Coleman’s show, “In The Room Over.” Oddly, at that moment I was in the incubation period of a case of Covid. The place was packed when we played on Wednesday so I probably picked it up there. Peggi has escaped so far and I’m just coming up for air.
A young man and woman handed us a pamphlet as we entered Colleen’s studio. I assumed the woman was the artist but I don’t like having to read something before I look so I didn’t take one. The couple turned out to be the artist’s parents so that was understandable. And I’m so happy Peggi took a booklet. Rather than explaining the pieces we looked at, the pamphlet was an additional treat, sketches, poetry and more questions. I hope you can get up to see this show, it is sensational on many levels.
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I have been thinking about recording methods from the past as we set up our new Scarlett 2i4 interface. The first records we made were well rehearsed songs, banged out live in a studio. The early eighties brought in all this technology – electronic keyboards, midi and the ability to trigger prerecorded samples for a so-called “big sound.” Then in reaction to that we got caught up in the DIY movement. In 1986, with a gig playing three months of weekends in the Rochester Planetarium, we were tasked with syncing our music to a laser light show. We bought an Atari ST at Leon’s Typewriter on Clinton Avenue (there were no Best Buy’s or Apple Stores at the time) and an EMU SP12. We collectively wrote (Fournier, Dodd, Martin, Edic) songs based on improvisations, sequenced the basic tracks and then performed live, playing additional instruments and singing on top of those tracks. We put two of the songs from the Planetarium Show on the Personal Effects cd compilation released in 2008.
At the Colorblind show this weekend Chris Schepp told us he played a song of ours on his WAYO show and someone Shazamed it but didn’t get any result so they called the station. The song, “Melting Pot,” was one of those Planetarium songs that were only released on cassette. I put it online this morning.
One day away from February and we finally got a proper ski in thanks to the lake effect. It was a little sticky in the lowlands but we made it up to the lake.
Of course we listened to Marquee Moon when we heard that Tom Verlaine had died. We had just played it a few months back and we always have the same reaction. This still sounds fresh! The melodic interplay of the two guitars and Billy Ficca’s drumming remains timeless, beyond genre and unlike Tom, it will live forever.
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In Netflix’s extras for the new Pinocchio, Guillermo del Toro’s shows us some of the puppets used in the making of his retelling. Many are at different scales to suit the character that Pinocchio is being stop-motion-filmed with, but there are dozens at the same scale, each with a different facial expression. Del Toro says the models were printed so I assume they are plastic. I had a Pinocchio mask when I was young that I wore on Halloween. I loved the Disney version, the trip to the bad boy island especially, and I am almost afraid to watch it again. I’m quite certain del Toro’s is much richer, no matter what your age.
The Colorblind James band, the classic lineup without its leader, performed again at Abilene. There are no new songs in these performances as there was in the heyday, when Chuck was consistently churning out classics, but these songs have a whole lot of life left. They transcend Chuck’s self-described “circus rock” genre. I took that as classic, old world aspirations. Chuck was a troubadour and his poetic lyrics transcend time. His songs, performed by his band, sturdy musicians who have only gotten better over time, continue to touch your soul. Chuck’s songbook is in the most capable hands of his son, Mark. Mark is a better singer than his father. Chuck would love that! He handles the material respectfully and the same sly, wry humor shines. Long live Colorblind!
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I’m quite sure that early on the shutters on either side of a window could be closed and latched to protect the inside of the home from the elements. But a some point in the relatively recent past shutters on windows became entirely decorative. Without hinges or latches, they were just nailed to the wall. Furthermore, if they did swing shut they would not be big enough to cover the window. We still see examples of functional shutters on old houses and it is always a treat.
Peggi and I finally got our Focusrite Scarlett 2i4 set up. It allows us to record two tracks of instruments or vocals, one for each of us. Of course we could layer to our hearts’ content. The red box had been sitting next to my computer for the past two years. It has been easier to just catch the whole band in one live take.
Watch Duane Sherwood video for “Cloud To Part”
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We never really know where our daily walk will take us. Even though we live on a dead end street we have options and often surprises before our loop is closed. The outlet from Durand Lake is always rearranging itself as it cuts through the beach at Durand and for the last few weeks, with all the rain we’ve been getting in lieu of snow, it has cut a pretty deep, quick-running stream in the sand. So we have had to turn around and double back in the same direction there. The lake is about a half foot above its long term January average.
Yesterday, instead of heading out in the morning we waited for the snow to accumulate and then left on skis. We were hesitant to wax our skis first time out. (We got them so slick we had lost control in the past.) The ground still hasn’t frozen so the snow stuck to the bottom our skies, an experience similar to walking in spiked heels. We skied/walked the length of one hole on the golf course. A victory of sorts over this wimpy winter.
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The Amaryllis blossom above is in a most unlikely location. I only discovered it while standing on a stool. The cool blueish-grey horizontal band is our white ceiling, the middle band is our muslin wall and the murky brown base is the dust covered top of our living room built-in cabinet. We usually tuck our Amaryllis plant behind the photo albums in the top cabinet for about a month in the winter so the bulb can go dormant but we forgot about it this year and the white stalk grew out the crack between the cabinet and wall where it found enough light to blossom.
1975 and 1999 were also Years of the Rabbit where luck, hope and good fortune are in the offing.
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I predict the future will be really exciting. This morning’s paper had an article about Deep Fakes that included this nugget. “Some experts predict that as much as 90 per cent of online content could be synthetically generated within a few years.” Critical Thinking will be more important than ever and that is where the fun comes in.
We helped Jeff and Mary Kaye clear a path along the river for cross country skiing (if we ever get snow again.) It started snowing on our way back but it quickly turned to rain.
I saw the drummer for Sadistic Mika Band and Yellow Magic Orchestra died. That set us off on rabbit hole dive that ended with this mash-up gem, their version of Archie Bell’s “Tighten Up” performed on “Soul Train.”
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Dave Ripton asked if I spend much time thinking about death. I said, “Not really,” but I wondered at the same time if maybe I did. He said he’ll go down a road and think, “This is probably the last time I’ll go down this road.” Do thoughts like this indicate depression or is he just being realistic? He added, “It’s probably the Black Irish in me.” I have a good bit of Irish in me but had not heard this term. I took it to mean dark thoughts. If that assumption is correct, “The Banshees of Inisherin” is Black Irish.
I loved the movie and all its contradictions. The idyllic, island setting, the cozy pub, the fiddle music, the simple life set against the loneliness, the boredom, and the sense that time is running out. The laugh-out-loud comedy interwoven with the despair. The confessional scene was music to any former Catholic’s ears. The self mutilation was a bit much. The whole cast was brilliant. Best Picture in my little book.
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The number of times we’ve have walked through Durand Eastman Park and only today did I pay particular attention to the sign that reads “Picnic Grove.” It’s always been there, by the yellow gate on Log Cabin Road, the gate they swing open in the winter because the road is off limits to vehicles. In the summer months it swings closed keeping cars off the stretch that connects Log Cabin to Zoo Road. All good in my book. I like the park rules,”Dogs must be leashed,” “No bikes on trails.” The Picnic Grove sign is in this section.
My mom would often pack a picnic basket, sometimes with just peanut butter sandwiches, and we would come down here when my dad got off work. All the roads were open back then. You could drive on Horseshoe Road, which is now grown over. There was a zoo on Zoo Road and the road connected to Wisner to take you right out of the park. I remember my dad driving slowly to pick out a spot where my mother could spread the blanket on the ground and it was often right here in Picnic Grove.
The Spanish SuperCopa final was thrilling. We follow three teams and Real Madrid and Barcelona are two of them but there was never any doubt who we were pulling for. Barca almost pulled off a 3-0 shutout. They controlled the ball in midfield where Real Madrid used to be dominant. Busquets, the captain, Frankie De jong and the teenagers, Pedri and Gavi played magic triangles around Madrid’s midfielders as if teasing the champions and we loved it.
We zoomed with our friends, Matthew and Louise in Hawaii. They told us about a canal near them where they walk their dog, Tricky. That night we watched an episode of Hawaii Five-0 and a chase was filmed on the canal.
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According to Visualising Slavery: Art Across the African Diaspora, this Frederick Douglass monument was the first statue in the United States that memorialized a specific African-American. It was installed in front of the New York Central train station in 1899 but then moved to Highland Park in 1941 for some reason. More curiously, it sat not where it is now but down in the bowl, just off to the left in the picture above. In 2018, on the 200th anniversary of Douglass’s birth, the city commissioned Olivia Kim to construct a series of life sized replicas of the statue. The statues were placed in throughout the city in locations that were important to Douglass’s legacy. A nice idea but the fiberglass replicas look cheap compared to this one. Douglass deserves a fleet of bronze statues.
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Steve was already sound asleep in his seat aboard a flight back to Detroit when the flight attendant informed him that the plane was grounded due to a nationwide FAA meltdown. Peggi and I had already gone back to bed after dropping him off at 5:30 but we were happy to have him stay with us for a third night. He was in town for a meeting with the Strong Museum of Play on an AR project. Steve is super productive and we rise to the occasion in his midst.
We were psyched enough to see Noah Baumbach’s new movie, “White Noise,” that we planned on going to the theater. But on the same day it opened here, Netflix announced the movie was available to stream so we stayed in. I didn’t read the book it was based on and I didn’t have the patience to watch the movie. This was no Squid and the Whale, Greenberg or Meyerowitz Story. The movie felt like a complete mess, a cop of Altman, Buñuel and others, built on a book about modern life in the eighties. I fell asleep and missed the whole murder section.
We watched Truffaut’s “Day for Night” the next night and found it completely satisfying. And so much fun. His nods to his favorite directors, Hitchcock and Orson Wells, pay tribute. And last night we started “Tar.” Kate Blanchett is a force of nature. The music is fantastic and the script is timely and witty. I can’t wait to get back to it.
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We would rather eat at home than in a restaurant but we’ve been following the story of Noma’s chef closing shop to be reborn as a “giant lab.” What comes after tiny dishes prepared from locally foraged ingredients? Our nephew and his partner own a restaurant in Miami. They earned themselves a Michelin star during the pandemic when the fine dining business was forced to reinvent themselves. We hope to have reservations there someday soon.
Based on the evidence we find along the small lakes in Durand Eastman beavers are not all that fussy. They take down poplar, aspen, birch, willow and maple trees to eat the bark. Contrary to popular belief they don’t eat fish. They are strictly herbivores.
We are in an early winter cruciferous stage. We finished our walk today at the garden where our kale, collard greens and Brussels sprouts are still producing. We brought back an armful for dinner.
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