Rock and Roll [Part II]
I was just thinking this morning wether the Velvet Underground REALLY deserve to be in the RRHoF... I mean, really, [to paraphrase Lester Bangs] do people love the Velvets because they really like them or because it's 'cool' to like them. I mean either way, Loaded is a GREAT record, but that first one? What the fuck did Nico really do? Venus in Furs, Waiting for the Man, Heroin okay... I don't know about 'Hall of Fame worthiness,' though.
How about the Allman Brothers? Don't you really have to consider their WHOLE career, nut just Fillmore East and Eat A Peach? How about Win Lose or Draw or Enlightened Rougues?
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Travel Notes Part III: The Long Trip Home
After three days of lazing at Grandma Sheets' doing a WHOLE LOT of nothing, a Wednesday night ice cream social and a card game in which I knocked MYSELF out of... drove up to Port Matilda/State College to take care of some more family business, drove back toward Ohio in a spitting rain, got turned around in another fucking construction zone trying to get into a hotel and wound up on a toll road headed back toward Grandma's. Took the PA and Ohio turnpikes and wound up just outside of Kent OH, home of Kent State.
After Friday nigh spent eating good pizza [no matter what my cousin Karl thinks] and watching Karl's little boy play with my uncle Ken, I got up Saturday morning for the high mission: the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
I had never been to 'the mistake by the lake' known as Cleveland, but as I drove in, I could see it's charm; not too large and it looked like a nice downtown. Entered right by 'The Jake' [Jacobs Field] where the Indians were fixing to whomp the Twins again [but they have sucked ever since I left town and appear to have fallen out of the playoff race, something I need to drop Jay a line on...] weaved through construction and came down to the lake where the street was closed off for some Red Bull sponsored street festival [I watched some skateboarders while waiting for the films later; nice view of the lakefront].
Anyway, if you didn't get a postcard, the RRHoF is a big six story pyramid looking building and you start at the BOTTOM with a couple films [which I skipped due to length of the line] then some photos and paragraphs about the pre-rockers [Robert Johnson, Bessie Smith, Louis Jordan, etc]... UNFORTUNATELY there is only one pair of headphones to check out five or six of these pioneers, so I never got to hear Ma Rainey or Jimmie Rodgers or [I point out the CMHoF had small mounted players with speakers that held about 30 seconds of 6 or 8 artists in the featured display] The you're into the 50s with Elvis' two sided big glass case... do we NEED his fifty grade report card or about a dozen old magazines with Elvis on the cover? [I have the same complaint about the Beatles area: it's about 75% of frivolity like the Flip Your Wig game and Beatle Wigs; the Rolling Stones exhibit has NONE of this crap]
Anyway, most of the exhibits are 30 foot long glass front cases with any information about the era or scene [British Invasion, San Francisco, LA, Seattle] along the left end of the exhibit, then just items numbered with a description at the bottom... kind of lame and had NO flow. Some of the most interesting items are original song lyrics on hotel stationary, steno pads, whatever with scratch outs and corrections... I think that's neat and perhaps they should have their own area, like all the fucking clothes! But I digress...
I guess my point is this: there's a LOT of interesting stuff. I didn't spend four hours there because I am some sort of nerd... well, scratch that... But [perhaps in the great spirit of Rock and Roll] it's disorganized and seems half assed. There's WAY too much Jimi Hendrix for someone who released like 6 albums in four years; granted he was/is one of the best and most influential guitar players that EVER came along and like Hank Williams had a career cut tragically short... BUT his childhood drawings? like a dozen stage costumes? Come ON all ready!
Another major complaint: there is no central inductees area [except in the RRHoF gift shop/CD store where they are in a separate section]. The bronze plaques of the CMHoF are dated, but I suggest an etched/painted glass ala the Hockey Hall of Fame... THAT would be cool. Maybe thats what needs to be done with the special exhibition areas on floors five and six...
And while I am in the area, let's discuss criteria; While I do not doubt that most of these persons/groups deserve to be here, it seems we are ALL READY reaching only 20 years into this thing. Talking Heads? Jackson Browne? George Harrison - solo artist? Bob Seger? I don't necessarily mind the criteria [25 years after first release] but perhaps there was too great a rush on inductions in the early years to generate interest [70 inductees in the first 5 years, 133 in the first 10]... what if the criteria had been changed to say 6 artists per year, 2 builders, 1 songwriter and 1 media member [and MAYBE start a select committee for 'underrated/underappreciated' artists]; The first class then would have been:
Chuck Berry; Little Richard; James Brown; Ray Charles; Elvis;
and then a GREAT DEBATE over the Everly Bros, Sam Cooke, Bill Haley and Jerry Lee Lewis for that last spot; Alan Freed in the media, Robert Johnson and Sam Phillips [or Ahmet Ertigun] for the builders and Leiber and Stoller as a songwriting team. Then the next year you have the leftovers, PLUS Johnny Cash, the Impressions, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Eddie Cochrane, BB King, etc to vote on... maybe we wouldn't be down to some of the SHIT we are talking about now just yet... are the Grateful Dead really FIRST BALLOT Hall of Fame worthy? My beloved Jefferson Airplane? The Animals? Frankie Lymon? BILLY JOEL? BONNIE RAITT? Give me a fucking break! Oh, and a category for sidemen and producers, i.e the studio guys for Phil Spector, George Martin, Scotty Moore, James Burton, James Jamerson [or the whole Motown Funk Brothers], the Muscle Shoals rhythm section, the Memphis horns et al...
Lots of guitars, lyrics, clothes... great stuff.. Remodel soon.
Then I saw Grandma Galupi... I confess I am not terribly close to any relations on my father's side of the family. I learned much about my Grandfather who died when my Dad was still a boy from Hodgkin's Disease, my grandmother's trips to the VA hospital in Pittsburgh [by bus and cab] and some angels who looked out for her with advice and support; how my grandfather suffered flashbacks of the war [now diagnosed as 'Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome'], how they met and stuff. I find myself asking the elders about this kind of thing now, I guess before their memories are gone and lost so SOMEONE can carry on the traditional talks "When my grandfather was a boy..." Like how Grandma Sheets walked to Rochester [three miles] to school and home each day [no "uphill both ways" from Grandma; just "if your friends wanted to come out they walked, too. That's just how it was."] and worked in Cleveland to work for a family for a short period, returning out of homesickness, I suppose. Learning how my grandfather had actually gone out to try and meet my grandmother's younger sister and tales of a daring young man on a motorcycle... how my great uncle Don's family had a big dairy farm ask of Beaver Falls, an area known as Steuber hill. Anyway, I learned much this trip.
Then Sunday morning I got up and started home. It's good to travel, but it's always good to get home. And after a bit of discussion with my uncle Ken the truck driver, I decided he was right and in spite of EVERYTHING I said below, I should head back the shortest route, which was the way I came, Arkansas construction and all. Never say never, I guess. Donations of CROW to 855 E Ash Ln... I had a better drive back through Ohio, stopped in Bowling Green KY for about and hour for lunch and rest, jumped back down 65 to Nashville [only about an hour away]... seriously considered returning to Thompson's for photo of and to claim whatever change I left, but I was moving well, so I left the way I came, back down 40 blasting Led Zeppelin, planning only to get to Memphis of just beyond before dark. Made good time and decided to get 'through that construction zone in Little Rock,' got into traffic and just kept rolling, stopping for gas and finding the Dr Demento show between LR and Texarkana; from Texarkana it's only two hours to Dallas, so I got in with some trucks and blew on, Springsteen's Nebraska and Darkness on the Edge of Town keeping me company after losing Dr D... got to my place at 345 am 19.25 hrs and 1230 miles later. Called my Mom to let her know I was home and I had just balled it al the way, got called and idiot. Unplugged the phone and went to bed...
Six more days of not much, some lunches, some things I needed to catch up, laundry... now it's back to the grind of a JOB. [shudder] More on that later.
After three days of lazing at Grandma Sheets' doing a WHOLE LOT of nothing, a Wednesday night ice cream social and a card game in which I knocked MYSELF out of... drove up to Port Matilda/State College to take care of some more family business, drove back toward Ohio in a spitting rain, got turned around in another fucking construction zone trying to get into a hotel and wound up on a toll road headed back toward Grandma's. Took the PA and Ohio turnpikes and wound up just outside of Kent OH, home of Kent State.
After Friday nigh spent eating good pizza [no matter what my cousin Karl thinks] and watching Karl's little boy play with my uncle Ken, I got up Saturday morning for the high mission: the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
I had never been to 'the mistake by the lake' known as Cleveland, but as I drove in, I could see it's charm; not too large and it looked like a nice downtown. Entered right by 'The Jake' [Jacobs Field] where the Indians were fixing to whomp the Twins again [but they have sucked ever since I left town and appear to have fallen out of the playoff race, something I need to drop Jay a line on...] weaved through construction and came down to the lake where the street was closed off for some Red Bull sponsored street festival [I watched some skateboarders while waiting for the films later; nice view of the lakefront].
Anyway, if you didn't get a postcard, the RRHoF is a big six story pyramid looking building and you start at the BOTTOM with a couple films [which I skipped due to length of the line] then some photos and paragraphs about the pre-rockers [Robert Johnson, Bessie Smith, Louis Jordan, etc]... UNFORTUNATELY there is only one pair of headphones to check out five or six of these pioneers, so I never got to hear Ma Rainey or Jimmie Rodgers or [I point out the CMHoF had small mounted players with speakers that held about 30 seconds of 6 or 8 artists in the featured display] The you're into the 50s with Elvis' two sided big glass case... do we NEED his fifty grade report card or about a dozen old magazines with Elvis on the cover? [I have the same complaint about the Beatles area: it's about 75% of frivolity like the Flip Your Wig game and Beatle Wigs; the Rolling Stones exhibit has NONE of this crap]
Anyway, most of the exhibits are 30 foot long glass front cases with any information about the era or scene [British Invasion, San Francisco, LA, Seattle] along the left end of the exhibit, then just items numbered with a description at the bottom... kind of lame and had NO flow. Some of the most interesting items are original song lyrics on hotel stationary, steno pads, whatever with scratch outs and corrections... I think that's neat and perhaps they should have their own area, like all the fucking clothes! But I digress...
I guess my point is this: there's a LOT of interesting stuff. I didn't spend four hours there because I am some sort of nerd... well, scratch that... But [perhaps in the great spirit of Rock and Roll] it's disorganized and seems half assed. There's WAY too much Jimi Hendrix for someone who released like 6 albums in four years; granted he was/is one of the best and most influential guitar players that EVER came along and like Hank Williams had a career cut tragically short... BUT his childhood drawings? like a dozen stage costumes? Come ON all ready!
Another major complaint: there is no central inductees area [except in the RRHoF gift shop/CD store where they are in a separate section]. The bronze plaques of the CMHoF are dated, but I suggest an etched/painted glass ala the Hockey Hall of Fame... THAT would be cool. Maybe thats what needs to be done with the special exhibition areas on floors five and six...
And while I am in the area, let's discuss criteria; While I do not doubt that most of these persons/groups deserve to be here, it seems we are ALL READY reaching only 20 years into this thing. Talking Heads? Jackson Browne? George Harrison - solo artist? Bob Seger? I don't necessarily mind the criteria [25 years after first release] but perhaps there was too great a rush on inductions in the early years to generate interest [70 inductees in the first 5 years, 133 in the first 10]... what if the criteria had been changed to say 6 artists per year, 2 builders, 1 songwriter and 1 media member [and MAYBE start a select committee for 'underrated/underappreciated' artists]; The first class then would have been:
Chuck Berry; Little Richard; James Brown; Ray Charles; Elvis;
and then a GREAT DEBATE over the Everly Bros, Sam Cooke, Bill Haley and Jerry Lee Lewis for that last spot; Alan Freed in the media, Robert Johnson and Sam Phillips [or Ahmet Ertigun] for the builders and Leiber and Stoller as a songwriting team. Then the next year you have the leftovers, PLUS Johnny Cash, the Impressions, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Eddie Cochrane, BB King, etc to vote on... maybe we wouldn't be down to some of the SHIT we are talking about now just yet... are the Grateful Dead really FIRST BALLOT Hall of Fame worthy? My beloved Jefferson Airplane? The Animals? Frankie Lymon? BILLY JOEL? BONNIE RAITT? Give me a fucking break! Oh, and a category for sidemen and producers, i.e the studio guys for Phil Spector, George Martin, Scotty Moore, James Burton, James Jamerson [or the whole Motown Funk Brothers], the Muscle Shoals rhythm section, the Memphis horns et al...
Lots of guitars, lyrics, clothes... great stuff.. Remodel soon.
Then I saw Grandma Galupi... I confess I am not terribly close to any relations on my father's side of the family. I learned much about my Grandfather who died when my Dad was still a boy from Hodgkin's Disease, my grandmother's trips to the VA hospital in Pittsburgh [by bus and cab] and some angels who looked out for her with advice and support; how my grandfather suffered flashbacks of the war [now diagnosed as 'Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome'], how they met and stuff. I find myself asking the elders about this kind of thing now, I guess before their memories are gone and lost so SOMEONE can carry on the traditional talks "When my grandfather was a boy..." Like how Grandma Sheets walked to Rochester [three miles] to school and home each day [no "uphill both ways" from Grandma; just "if your friends wanted to come out they walked, too. That's just how it was."] and worked in Cleveland to work for a family for a short period, returning out of homesickness, I suppose. Learning how my grandfather had actually gone out to try and meet my grandmother's younger sister and tales of a daring young man on a motorcycle... how my great uncle Don's family had a big dairy farm ask of Beaver Falls, an area known as Steuber hill. Anyway, I learned much this trip.
Then Sunday morning I got up and started home. It's good to travel, but it's always good to get home. And after a bit of discussion with my uncle Ken the truck driver, I decided he was right and in spite of EVERYTHING I said below, I should head back the shortest route, which was the way I came, Arkansas construction and all. Never say never, I guess. Donations of CROW to 855 E Ash Ln... I had a better drive back through Ohio, stopped in Bowling Green KY for about and hour for lunch and rest, jumped back down 65 to Nashville [only about an hour away]... seriously considered returning to Thompson's for photo of and to claim whatever change I left, but I was moving well, so I left the way I came, back down 40 blasting Led Zeppelin, planning only to get to Memphis of just beyond before dark. Made good time and decided to get 'through that construction zone in Little Rock,' got into traffic and just kept rolling, stopping for gas and finding the Dr Demento show between LR and Texarkana; from Texarkana it's only two hours to Dallas, so I got in with some trucks and blew on, Springsteen's Nebraska and Darkness on the Edge of Town keeping me company after losing Dr D... got to my place at 345 am 19.25 hrs and 1230 miles later. Called my Mom to let her know I was home and I had just balled it al the way, got called and idiot. Unplugged the phone and went to bed...
Six more days of not much, some lunches, some things I needed to catch up, laundry... now it's back to the grind of a JOB. [shudder] More on that later.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Travel Notes Part II: The Long Version - Nashville and PA
Tuesday [8/10] : No sunrises yet... but we recall...
Two wonderful mornings in Nashville. Marty and Kelly have a great [now multi-tiered] deck overlooking their back yard with its fish pond and wooded grove. It's a great place to look down on while having your morning coffee. The CMHoF is very cool, lots of video and sound and interactive. Videos from Hee Haw and Porter Waggoner gave me flashbacks from my Grandpap's living room... unfortunately I could not make a custom CD because we got comp tickets from a friend of Marty's mother in law, who works at the Opry or Opryland... bought on of those super cool black T shirts with "CASH" on the front you see Wynonna and Brooks [or is it Dunn?] sporting.
Street hockey with Marty, his boys and all the neighborhood kids was a blast; three people on skates, about five not and only me and Marty over age 8.
The drive from Nashville to Pittsburgh covers a lot of America's heartland... lots of green this time of year. I love the ride through Appalachia, looking at the rock face where the mountains have been blasted apart to make the interstate and sections of road where just off the berm and gaurdrail there are fifty and hundred foot drops straight into forests. Then you're into the rolling hills of Kentucky... one of the coolest sights on this leg is coming around some big hills and into the Ohio River valley and suddenly Cincinnati [the Queen City] opens up before you. Cincy is a nice little city.
Ohio drivers are the rudest; they DO NOT move over after passing, so you have long trains of cars stuck in both lanes. I swear it was a busy as a holiday weekend. Other than that, you roll right through the Ohio corn country [oh that fresh Ohio corn yum yum] and it's just like driving a two lane black top through farm country.
That was Sunday. For the last two days I have done... not much of anything. Checked out some hockey collectables, got new shoes, written post cards... couple of naps and lots of time out on the swing with Grandma and Grandpap. HE is not doing so well, slow and shaky. But I am more relaxed than I can remember... probably since summers spent here when I was in high school.
I have done the Beaver Valley junk food circuit: Kretchmar's bakery for maple rolls, Jerry's Drive in for burger and rings and the regionally famous Brighton Hot Dog Shoppe for chili cheese dogs with onions... their chili is pretty thin and mostly meatless and mild, but is unique to this area. And cheap. And the HDS and Jerry's are institutions of this area since MY mother was in high school. So it's kind of a must. Unfortunately, the shake machine was down at the HDS; they have the best shakes this side of Arby's Jamocha shake. Frozen custard, like soft serve ice cream is also a staple around here, but there is a little stand with home made ice cream called Brewsters that is THE BEST. [Note: I did not get either frozen custard or Brewsters this trip. My loss.]
I will not get into Pittsburgh or 'The Strip District' this trip to feast in the small restaurants and delis down there. Cory and I got great Lebanese there one year and great Italian deli. I will not get to the Carnegie Museum; all the times I have said I wanted to but I just want to relax out here in the country. I will probably not get back to Charleston WV either,; it will just add about five hours to what will all ready be a 20 hour trip home. It's my sacrifice for relaxation.
I was alone in my grandparents house today. I don't know if I have ever been totally alone in this house before. I take a good look around; the kitchen where meals and conversations and card games have taken place... so many laughs, so many good smells from my grandmother's stove. The big bedroom addition over Grandpap's shop, the master where I'd bounce in when I was younger, Grandpap's stubble scratching my face and the smell of his Old Spice and Grandma's perfume hanging in the air. The two connected bedrooms I remember only as Becky and Emy's rooms, that housed all the kids at one time. My uncle Richard's bedroom, the former master bedroom. The writing desk in the dining room where I used to do all my line ups for dice baseball games between the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Cincinnati Reds as a kid [the two powerhouses of the NL in the 70s].
Some of the trees I loved are gone. The old swing down from the plateau where Grandma used to hang the "worsh", the big maple that used to dominate the front of the house. The big stone cook stove where we used to cook dogs and burgers and roast [and burn] marshmallows is gone. The back yard where we'd play Chinese Freeze Tag and the killer games of croquet... ah, the joy of sending my Dad down under the wash lines and down into the big field at the front of the house... The back porch where I'd put on my Superman cape [blue - the wrong color!] and jump off from between the railings is enclosed with windows, shut up tight. The old grandfather clock that used to scare me and keep me awake doesn't tick very loud any more and it doesn't chime the quarters or the hours any more.
Then there's the pictures... there's tons more now than there used to be, pictures of grown up grandkids and their families [crimeny, some of my cousin's kids are graduating high school!!!], old pictures of my aunts and uncles from way back in high school or weddings [oh the old hair styles!] and now with their own grandchildren. The few surviving photos of the great grandparents and MY great aunts and uncles... five generations spread out on walls and shelves and just about any flat surface there is room. In the bedroom where I am sleeping [Becky's old room] there are two old trees with wallet sized portrait ovals on one of the shelves filled with pictures of my and my cousins circa 1975, 16 in all. Three or four of my cousins on this side of the family had not yet been born... I was just looking at them and thinking how young we all were! And a dozen feet away in the living room there we are all again with wives and husbands and kids of our own... will the circle be unbroken indeed.
I wondered last time I was here if I was in the company of familiar strangers... what was I doing here? I don't know that I have an answer. Family is family, even if you only see them once a year, I guess. I have learned just to smile and nod along when I have no clue what they are discussing, something that came in handy when I found myself on the sidelines with busted glasses at Kelly's family reunion Saturday night. I wonder if this contributes to my closed mouthed [well until ya really get to know me] ways?
Tuesday [8/10] : No sunrises yet... but we recall...
Two wonderful mornings in Nashville. Marty and Kelly have a great [now multi-tiered] deck overlooking their back yard with its fish pond and wooded grove. It's a great place to look down on while having your morning coffee. The CMHoF is very cool, lots of video and sound and interactive. Videos from Hee Haw and Porter Waggoner gave me flashbacks from my Grandpap's living room... unfortunately I could not make a custom CD because we got comp tickets from a friend of Marty's mother in law, who works at the Opry or Opryland... bought on of those super cool black T shirts with "CASH" on the front you see Wynonna and Brooks [or is it Dunn?] sporting.
Street hockey with Marty, his boys and all the neighborhood kids was a blast; three people on skates, about five not and only me and Marty over age 8.
The drive from Nashville to Pittsburgh covers a lot of America's heartland... lots of green this time of year. I love the ride through Appalachia, looking at the rock face where the mountains have been blasted apart to make the interstate and sections of road where just off the berm and gaurdrail there are fifty and hundred foot drops straight into forests. Then you're into the rolling hills of Kentucky... one of the coolest sights on this leg is coming around some big hills and into the Ohio River valley and suddenly Cincinnati [the Queen City] opens up before you. Cincy is a nice little city.
Ohio drivers are the rudest; they DO NOT move over after passing, so you have long trains of cars stuck in both lanes. I swear it was a busy as a holiday weekend. Other than that, you roll right through the Ohio corn country [oh that fresh Ohio corn yum yum] and it's just like driving a two lane black top through farm country.
That was Sunday. For the last two days I have done... not much of anything. Checked out some hockey collectables, got new shoes, written post cards... couple of naps and lots of time out on the swing with Grandma and Grandpap. HE is not doing so well, slow and shaky. But I am more relaxed than I can remember... probably since summers spent here when I was in high school.
I have done the Beaver Valley junk food circuit: Kretchmar's bakery for maple rolls, Jerry's Drive in for burger and rings and the regionally famous Brighton Hot Dog Shoppe for chili cheese dogs with onions... their chili is pretty thin and mostly meatless and mild, but is unique to this area. And cheap. And the HDS and Jerry's are institutions of this area since MY mother was in high school. So it's kind of a must. Unfortunately, the shake machine was down at the HDS; they have the best shakes this side of Arby's Jamocha shake. Frozen custard, like soft serve ice cream is also a staple around here, but there is a little stand with home made ice cream called Brewsters that is THE BEST. [Note: I did not get either frozen custard or Brewsters this trip. My loss.]
I will not get into Pittsburgh or 'The Strip District' this trip to feast in the small restaurants and delis down there. Cory and I got great Lebanese there one year and great Italian deli. I will not get to the Carnegie Museum; all the times I have said I wanted to but I just want to relax out here in the country. I will probably not get back to Charleston WV either,; it will just add about five hours to what will all ready be a 20 hour trip home. It's my sacrifice for relaxation.
I was alone in my grandparents house today. I don't know if I have ever been totally alone in this house before. I take a good look around; the kitchen where meals and conversations and card games have taken place... so many laughs, so many good smells from my grandmother's stove. The big bedroom addition over Grandpap's shop, the master where I'd bounce in when I was younger, Grandpap's stubble scratching my face and the smell of his Old Spice and Grandma's perfume hanging in the air. The two connected bedrooms I remember only as Becky and Emy's rooms, that housed all the kids at one time. My uncle Richard's bedroom, the former master bedroom. The writing desk in the dining room where I used to do all my line ups for dice baseball games between the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Cincinnati Reds as a kid [the two powerhouses of the NL in the 70s].
Some of the trees I loved are gone. The old swing down from the plateau where Grandma used to hang the "worsh", the big maple that used to dominate the front of the house. The big stone cook stove where we used to cook dogs and burgers and roast [and burn] marshmallows is gone. The back yard where we'd play Chinese Freeze Tag and the killer games of croquet... ah, the joy of sending my Dad down under the wash lines and down into the big field at the front of the house... The back porch where I'd put on my Superman cape [blue - the wrong color!] and jump off from between the railings is enclosed with windows, shut up tight. The old grandfather clock that used to scare me and keep me awake doesn't tick very loud any more and it doesn't chime the quarters or the hours any more.
Then there's the pictures... there's tons more now than there used to be, pictures of grown up grandkids and their families [crimeny, some of my cousin's kids are graduating high school!!!], old pictures of my aunts and uncles from way back in high school or weddings [oh the old hair styles!] and now with their own grandchildren. The few surviving photos of the great grandparents and MY great aunts and uncles... five generations spread out on walls and shelves and just about any flat surface there is room. In the bedroom where I am sleeping [Becky's old room] there are two old trees with wallet sized portrait ovals on one of the shelves filled with pictures of my and my cousins circa 1975, 16 in all. Three or four of my cousins on this side of the family had not yet been born... I was just looking at them and thinking how young we all were! And a dozen feet away in the living room there we are all again with wives and husbands and kids of our own... will the circle be unbroken indeed.
I wondered last time I was here if I was in the company of familiar strangers... what was I doing here? I don't know that I have an answer. Family is family, even if you only see them once a year, I guess. I have learned just to smile and nod along when I have no clue what they are discussing, something that came in handy when I found myself on the sidelines with busted glasses at Kelly's family reunion Saturday night. I wonder if this contributes to my closed mouthed [well until ya really get to know me] ways?
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Travel Notes Part I: Coming North
It’s been around 20 years since I last had the opportunity to drive north into Pennsylvania; probably not too odd considering I have been working steadily since 1989. I don’t think we had done it as a family since the summer of 1986, which would have been the first of my cousins [Roxanne I believe] getting married; after that we flew. So when I learned that they were closing ADT back in May, I began to consider taking a couple of weeks and driving north, knowing I had a place to stop in Nashville which is about halfway. But I hemmed and hawed and thought about it… I just hate flying now, all of the hassles of security, then being 30000 feet high in a little narrow tube of aluminum… so the closer I got to being unemployed, the more I thought about it. How many times will I get the chance again? So I decided to go for it.
The "Last Day of ADT [Dallas]" went okay. I have no sentimentality for stuff like that anymore. Maybe when I look back in a few years, I will be more something but not right now. There are a few people I will miss; I had a few good mentors who helped me along the way, like Craig Issacs and Joe Francis, but they are long gone... It was just weird. They did feed us some good BBQ, but there was no crying. Exit interview? "Hand your badges and head sets to Cherie on the way out." Yeah, 1230 and they said "You can go home OR you can stay and help Rochester on the phones." Like anyone was working anyway, except me. I figured I was still getting paid to answer the phone and all. Of course, that's just me. But I didn't stay to help Rochester, either.
Let me start by saying that if you'd have told me ten years ago I would be leaving Texas listening to country music, I'd have said you were crazy... but I was leaving Dallas listening to KHYI, then Jerry Jeff... The first thing I noticed was that once one is outside of the cement and glass of the Metroplex [say around Greenville] the air changes; it feels and smells different, definitely more rural. One can look off the freeway and NOT see anything but an occasional house or a truck going down the access road. I watched as the sun rose through the clouds out in east Texas, an orange- red which may or may not be found in the Crayola box. I looked at it and thought of morning spent in my grandparents kitchen in Pennslyvania or my other grandmother’s living room in Ohio and other mornings that burst with energy and possibility and fun….
The bummer of the trip [so far] was the construction in Arkansas. In the 20 [+/-] years since I have come through last, I’ll bet they have quit repairing the freeway ONCE, for about two weeks around Christmas in 1992. Coming into Little Rock, leaving Little Rock, coming into Memphis… the one leaving Little Rock, I swear they closed down a lane of the freeway while the cut the grass on the median! And in Arkansas, they close the right lane down, sent you about a quarter mile in the left then shift everyone back into the RIGHT lane! I thought it was a fluke the first time, but they did it three more times! Apparently someone has stolen all the “Left Lane Ends Merge Right” signs in Arkansas.
The trouble then is you have everyone jockeying coming into the construction to get around the big trucks, then they roll slowly through the construction, then you’ve got everyone jammed up for an hour past the last one trying to pass the trucks as they are gathering up speed… then you’re into another construction zone. Fuck Arkansas, I will not go back that way. I was so mad by the time I got through that I refused to spend another dime in the state: no gas, no food, though I was half starved by the time I hit Memphis…
My stated mission plan was to hit the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. I did not know there was a Rockabilly Hall of Fame in Jackson TN where I stopped finally to get lunch. I thought about stopping, but I was making good time into Nashville and thought I might avoid the rush hour if I pushed it… I didn’t make it, but considering the traffic jams in AK and a couple stops for food and leg stretches, then getting lost two blocks from Marty’s house, 13 hrs was not bad time. Got in with a truck between Jackson and Nashville that was just humpin’ it and ran around 85 for a good stretch through the hills…
More later !!!
It’s been around 20 years since I last had the opportunity to drive north into Pennsylvania; probably not too odd considering I have been working steadily since 1989. I don’t think we had done it as a family since the summer of 1986, which would have been the first of my cousins [Roxanne I believe] getting married; after that we flew. So when I learned that they were closing ADT back in May, I began to consider taking a couple of weeks and driving north, knowing I had a place to stop in Nashville which is about halfway. But I hemmed and hawed and thought about it… I just hate flying now, all of the hassles of security, then being 30000 feet high in a little narrow tube of aluminum… so the closer I got to being unemployed, the more I thought about it. How many times will I get the chance again? So I decided to go for it.
The "Last Day of ADT [Dallas]" went okay. I have no sentimentality for stuff like that anymore. Maybe when I look back in a few years, I will be more something but not right now. There are a few people I will miss; I had a few good mentors who helped me along the way, like Craig Issacs and Joe Francis, but they are long gone... It was just weird. They did feed us some good BBQ, but there was no crying. Exit interview? "Hand your badges and head sets to Cherie on the way out." Yeah, 1230 and they said "You can go home OR you can stay and help Rochester on the phones." Like anyone was working anyway, except me. I figured I was still getting paid to answer the phone and all. Of course, that's just me. But I didn't stay to help Rochester, either.
Let me start by saying that if you'd have told me ten years ago I would be leaving Texas listening to country music, I'd have said you were crazy... but I was leaving Dallas listening to KHYI, then Jerry Jeff... The first thing I noticed was that once one is outside of the cement and glass of the Metroplex [say around Greenville] the air changes; it feels and smells different, definitely more rural. One can look off the freeway and NOT see anything but an occasional house or a truck going down the access road. I watched as the sun rose through the clouds out in east Texas, an orange- red which may or may not be found in the Crayola box. I looked at it and thought of morning spent in my grandparents kitchen in Pennslyvania or my other grandmother’s living room in Ohio and other mornings that burst with energy and possibility and fun….
The bummer of the trip [so far] was the construction in Arkansas. In the 20 [+/-] years since I have come through last, I’ll bet they have quit repairing the freeway ONCE, for about two weeks around Christmas in 1992. Coming into Little Rock, leaving Little Rock, coming into Memphis… the one leaving Little Rock, I swear they closed down a lane of the freeway while the cut the grass on the median! And in Arkansas, they close the right lane down, sent you about a quarter mile in the left then shift everyone back into the RIGHT lane! I thought it was a fluke the first time, but they did it three more times! Apparently someone has stolen all the “Left Lane Ends Merge Right” signs in Arkansas.
The trouble then is you have everyone jockeying coming into the construction to get around the big trucks, then they roll slowly through the construction, then you’ve got everyone jammed up for an hour past the last one trying to pass the trucks as they are gathering up speed… then you’re into another construction zone. Fuck Arkansas, I will not go back that way. I was so mad by the time I got through that I refused to spend another dime in the state: no gas, no food, though I was half starved by the time I hit Memphis…
My stated mission plan was to hit the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. I did not know there was a Rockabilly Hall of Fame in Jackson TN where I stopped finally to get lunch. I thought about stopping, but I was making good time into Nashville and thought I might avoid the rush hour if I pushed it… I didn’t make it, but considering the traffic jams in AK and a couple stops for food and leg stretches, then getting lost two blocks from Marty’s house, 13 hrs was not bad time. Got in with a truck between Jackson and Nashville that was just humpin’ it and ran around 85 for a good stretch through the hills…
More later !!!