Author: fifteenkey (Page 92 of 95)

You know how people joke about Seattle when it’s raining a lot? No? Anyway, I spent about two weeks in the Great Northwest (Portland, Seattle, Vancouver) in 1992 and didn’t feel a drop of rain. I also met Carol on that trip and we’ve remained friends to this day. That’s 13 years… Wow. So I’m not really writing about the rain, although it seems our recent weather and extended forecast through forever looks like this:

“Feels Like Rain” is from John Hiatt’s 1989 record, “Slow Turning.” The title track may have been his biggest hit, and contains lyrics that can make any baby-boomer dad smile:

I love his songwriting, and with 18 records (#19 due June 21), there are just tons of great songs in his catalog. Hiatt’s songs have been covered by Bob Dylan, Iggy Pop, Nick Lowe, Emmylou Harris, Bonnie Raitt, Willie Nelson, and B. B. King with Eric Clapton, just to name a few.

As is the case for much of the music I love, it’s usually Jeff or Dave that have turned me on to it. In this case, Dave made me a John Hiatt compilation CD about 5 years ago and that was it. I’ve seen him a couple times live with Kyle at the Cape Cod Melody Tent. It’s one of those summer theatre places that caters to a somewhat upscale crowd. At one of the shows as we approached the concession area I scanned the menu and said, “I’ll have a champagne…” then looked at Kyle to get the rest of my order… “and M&M;’s please.”

Here’s another example of his fine writing and upcoming tour dates so you can see and hear for yourself.

She’s 65 today. Much of our family will head to her house to celebrate. Most of her four sisters and two brothers will be there, plus an assortment of cousins and their kids. My brother Kevin flew up from Philly. Mom and her siblings were orphaned by the time she was seven, and she’s become the central, stabilizing force that unifies the family.

People find strength in themselves through her. Many would benefit by emulating her. As a single mother of three boys, she worked incredibly hard with both a job and college, doggedly pursuing education as a path to a more fulfilling life. I remember during high school, she’d be at the kitchen table studying every night long after I’d gone to bed. When I graduated high school in 1976, Mom received her Nursing degree. All the while, she provided a good life for her three boys.

Those years were compelling evidence of the value education and hard work can bring. I’m incredibly proud of her, and thankful for the example she provided to me growing up. Oh, and I’m really thankful for that time she let me stay up to watch Batman… Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

Frank Gorshin passed away this week. Mr. Gorshin played the Riddler in the original Batman TV series.

I remember well Wednesday January 12, 1966. ABC had really hyped their new show and this seven year old was fired up, although I must have been something else, as “fired up” had not yet made the lexicon.

My mother was letting me stay up for this “late” show and it was in COLOR! The show was incredible with computers, utility belts, secret bat caves, the batmobile and the Riddler. In later shows, I would experience Catwoman, an image that shaped my view of feminine magnetism that lingers to this day. (Note: Maybe I should open a Freudian wing of the blog…)

Twenty three years passed and the film version with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson hit the screens. Again, I was as fired up as that seven year old, the only difference being that I didn’t watch the movie in “feety pajamas” like in ’66. My wife had no interest in going, so I went alone. Just me, a popcorn and coke in the 7th row center. Life was good and the Tim Burton film blew me away. It’s funny, and maybe even ironic, but “Batman” remains one of Kyle’s favorite movies and he wasn’t even born when it was released.

The little bat around 1997…

Needless to say, we’ll be there when “Batman Begins” again on June 15th.

Kyle and I went to see “Revenge of the Sith” today, the final “prequel” to the original 1977 “Star Wars,” but you knew that. At one point, I actually thought to myself this is just another rehashing of space battles and light-saber duels. That was until the final 45 minutes when the dark matter really hit the fan. This time George Lucas takes us past the colorful obliteration of a planet into a place more worthy of exploration. The darkness in all of us.

Also a great new song from Ryan Adams on his new record, Cold Roses…

A few days in Napa have me thinking of returning. I’ll return with the woman I love. We’ll listen to music and silently admire the beauty of the valley as we travel leisurely from galleries to vineyards and restaurants. Our hands will brush and then come together slowly like leaves floating to the ground in Fall. No words will be necessary. The kids will be home this time. Megan will be happy and looking forward to college. Kyle will be reading her the latest Harry Potter novel. Jessica will be helping her Mackenzie with homework. Sweet indeed.

I’m jumping on a plane tonight bound for San Francisco. On second thought, jumping may not be in good taste, so I’ll walk on. My lovely ex-wife believes my business trips are just vacations. In this case, the location is certainly suitable for one. Arriving in the city by the bay at 10:12pm, my boss Paul and I will drive to the Silverado Country Club and Resort in Napa Valley for two days of meetings and one day of a local User’s Conference. Even though we won’t have time for golf, we’ll be in a picturesque location and will visit the Bistro Jeanty for a team dinner and a winery for a customer event. Hopefully the brunette will be there.

Lately I’ve been seeing a substantial increase in news stories related to energy:

• debates on the construction of new nuclear power plants
• tips on conserving gasoline
• making hydrogen from excess oranges and trash in Florida
• analysis of why our domestic automakers keep getting their clocks cleaned (where did that cliché come from?) by the likes of Toyota, the leader in gas-electric hybrid technology. The reason for this, of course, is illustrated in the graph below.

That’s just what I’ve paid. Prices are much higher elsewhere, and in California drivers pay over $3.00 per gallon. In Europe prices are even higher, but they measure in liters, so who can do that conversion in their head? You’ll just have to take my word for it. So, are we nearing the “Tipping Point” when we begin a real break from oil and invest in cleaner alternative energy? Stay tuned.

A few months ago, ol’ pal Jeff turned me on to Grouper. Since then, our little group has expanded, contracted and imploded, but that’s another story. Anyway, my other buddy Dave (yeah, I have only 2), has a buddy Jim who’s in Dave’s Group-er. Get it? You with me? Actually, I’m streaming some of Jim’s music right now. The song description indicates it’s “Shaky Ground” by Uncle Tupelo, but what’s actually playing is “Take Me When You Go” by the Jayhawks. Grouper is kinda funky that way. I think Dave had an aneurism over Grouper earlier today, but I digress.

Dave having an aneurism… or singing.

A new Grouper feature is this thing called “Glog It.” It’s like a Grouper Blog… G-log. Get it? So I’m reading Jim’s glog and one entry says, “Tom Petty’s Best Song… Has to be this one.” Under it is an icon that says “Tom Petty Track 4.” I click on it and one note convinced me he was right on. From Petty’s first record, this song grabbed me by the throat back in college over a “Wild One,” but hearing the words again make me think of someone else.

Back in the fall of 1981, Marty Gronberg, one of my college roomates read aloud from the Arizona Wildcat about the Rolling Stones touring and that the closest spot to us was at the University of Colorado in Boulder. “We’re there,” quickly piped up Phil Sheridan. Phil loved the Stones, but it would be over 20 years later when I fully realized Phil was a full-fledged band groupie. I recall thinking they were over even back then. I mean it was 3 years past “Some Girls,” in hindsight, the last gasp of a great band. The trip was great, taking us through Albuquerque during their annual International Balloon Fiesta.

Seeing the Stones for the first time was exhilarating, and the scene in Boulder included the imposing background of the Rocky Mountains. I saw the band later that summer in Tempe, AZ, a show that pulled out all the props and ended up becoming the film “Let’s Spend the Night Together.”

Sixteen years passed. I got married, had two children and got divorced before seeing two 1997 shows in Boston and Nashville, which came to be as a reunion of the 1981 U of A crew. Regrettably, Bill Wyman didn’t attend.

Now they’re baaaaaack, and to quote ex-Red Sox Mo Vaughn, “It ain’t about the money.” Mick quickly contradicted Charlie Watts’ assertion that this was the last Stones’ tour. Sir Mick suggested such a grand announcement would amount to “a trap” aimed at getting money from fans. There’s no need for that, right? With ticket prices ranging from a paltry $63 to $163 and $453 each, I think they’ve got the money thing covered.

So, I ask myself, “Self, why drop a buck sixty three x 2 when you get satisfaction by seeing Sloan at a club for $10 on June 16th?

You gotta move.

Yesterday Megan, Kyle and I took my mom out for her favorite food: pizza. Yeah, she’s a cheap date. In fact, she’s so cheap she tried to order tap water in Billerica, MA. Not a good idea. I intervened and got her a Dasani. Hey, for all I know, illegal immigrants fill those by hand out of rubber hoses, but the veto made me feel better and was enough to give Mom the opportunity to tell me to watch how I spend my money. “You already got me flowers!” “Mom, it’s Mother’s Day. Have a Dasani.” Yeah, Mom says what’s on her mind. Always. The incredible thing is that if there were no flowers and no pizza, but just a phone call, she would be fine with it. She has been completely selfless in my life and continues that now in the lives of her grandchildren. She puts everyone else first.

I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

Today Kyle went with his Mom after church, so I had some alone time. I wanted to visit the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston, but it’s closed for installation through May 17th.

Instead, I headed to the local driving range to hone my incredible array of hooks and slices. After a successful hour consuming a large bucket starting with the pitching wedge and ending with the driver, I went to the gym to offset the other hefty consuming I do.