Bill Hicks

I became a fan of Bill Hicks after seeing him numerous times on Letterman in the late '80's, early '90's. He was one smart motherfucker who pulled NO punches when he did his stand up, whether it was in a club or on TV.

Whereas Robin Williams in his cocaine-fueled hey day of controlled insanity was always that nano-second away from taking something and improvising it into usually more than one thing, Bill represented people more because he would dive into topics of interest that most could relate to. The best way to imagine his approach is for us to remember those times when someone, usually a boss or someone we can't talk back to, does or says something that really pisses you off. We, for the most part, keep it to ourselves or compromise it in some way. Not Bill.

He died, unfortunately, of pancreatic cancer in 1994 at the age of 32.

Instead of more talk why not cut to the chase. Here's Bill from an HBO show in 1991 and he's speaking abut Marketing and Advertisement.

Think he might be a little relevant today? (Thanks for the reminder DB)

Ouzo, Wine, Greek Festival and Hawk and a Hacksaw

Mike, Liam, Kelly's Ouzo (1/2 finished) and Thea.

Yesterday was one of those kinda days. It started out innocently enough with Kelly and her two kids, Thea and Liam and I going to a Greek Festival at a local orthodox church. Kelly, being 1/4 Greek insisted that the Greeks are not tee-totallers. Man, was she right! We started off by each getting what we thought was a small glass of Ouzo and got the kids a cupcake each. The guy pouring FILLED one of those plastic cups to the top. After that we walked around and I bought the church's Greek cookbook so, of course, some local Greek food was next. We decided to order things we never had before and followed up the Ouzo with a nice bottle of cheap Greek wine.

Everyone had a really good time at the festival but it was time to get her kids home plus we had plans to see the band "Hawk and a Hacksaw" at the Rock and Roll Hotel here in DC.

Still a bit woozy from a nap I picked her up and we went to the show. Small place and no one was there so we sipped a little day of "hair of the dog" in the form of whisky on the rocks and soon after "Hawk" came out. If you like the music from the band Devotchka you would like "Hawk" although I think they are even more traditional in their approach to music. For the last two songs they climbed off the stage and played acoustically as they mingled with the audience. Awesome show!

Listen to a snippet of Hawk and a Hacksaw recorded Sept. 20, 2009 by me at the Rock and Roll Hotel, DC

A Love affair

People, as we all know, have love affairs with many different things. I want to share one of my favorite Silver Spring ones today.

The Quarryhouse Tavern has been in the same basement location since the 1930's. I was first introduced to it in the late 80's. Back then they didn't have a full liquor license and only served wine and beer. In those days there was another bar called "Captain White's" down the street that was full service and beaten down to a beautiful perfection. Then, the only redeeming quality the QH had was that it was closer stumbling distance home.

In 2006 the tavern was sold to the owners of Jackie's Restaurant and with it came a full liquor license as well as the day-to-day skills of Gordon Banks, the manager of the bar. Find me a less pretentious place in DC where you can buy a $25 bottle of beer that's probably worth $25. Gordon expanded the selection to the point where you can order off a menu or just snap a can of PBR. He also was instrumental in turning the bar into a musically diverse club most nights in the back room.

See, I'm from Cleveland and I know a good bar when I see one. Lakewood, Ohio (my hometown) is maybe 4 to 6 miles wide yet on Madison avenue alone (one of three main parallel streets cutting though Lakewood) there are over 100 bars. The "Madison Marathon" celebrates any idiot who can have one beer in each of the bars. Bars in Cleveland are open in some cases 24 hours to accommodate factory workers (5pm is not the only quitting time for some people) so when I say the QH is the shit, it's the shit.

It's also a place where I only invite people who can appreciate its "dive bar" charm so since you're reading this I guess that means you're pre-approved as far as going to check it out sometime. If you're in the neighborhood, give me a call. For those who are fellow QH peeps (Kelly, Bob, David, Brent, Brian, Heather, DB), who's buyin'?

Think I'm a quart low...

Today is the day I get my pain-in-the-ass blood bag removed.

Tonight I get to sleep in my bed for the first time in three days (Love my couch, but, c'mon, I've got a huge ass king size bed).

I don't have to walk about with a physical extension of my inner workings either dangling and hurting like a MF or tucked into my underwear which, however weird it sounds, allowed me to temporarily forget I had a mainline directly into my stomach cavity.

In a word, "YAY!"

So I get to the Doc. The same man who I met for 10 mins and was soon cutting me was now before me looking at the blood bag and determining that progress was indeed happening. Rock on Doc. Let's lose the tether!

And then ....

(Not for the squeamish). Normally I wouldn't write this but in this case, well, just reference the title of this post.

If you listen closely you can hear me say OW! and later MOTHER FU....

Open up! A gift wants to be given

In 1989 Lou Reed released his New York, New York CD. Critically, if not semi-popular to a wider audience there is, I would guess, not much dissent amongst fans of his music as to the import of this collection of people, places, provocations and stories.

One Summer night that year my friends Bob Kane and Mike Gracia and I were hanging in a bar when one of us read that Lou was playing that night at Merriweather Post Pavilion just outside D.C near Columbia, MD. The gift, somewhat hazy but there said, "Let's go to the show! We'll get shitty seats but who cares, It's Lou doing New York!" So off we went.

When we arrived we went up to the ticket booth and asked for anything inside the Pavilion (most American cities have these kinds of venues so I'm sure you know what I mean) and were happy they still had tickets.

So 'the gift' comes up to us dressed as a ticket usher and asks for them. He takes them and we start walking down the long ass stairs that lead towards the stage. As we were walking all of us were craning as we looked to see three consecutive seats anywhere. The gift, on the other hand, keeps walking, keeps walking, and keeps walking until he can't go any further. He hands us the stubs to our FRONT ROW CENTER seats and walks away.

What happened to the gift you ask? There are a 100 other things that could have happened that night and no one would have ever known.  IF the song doesn't play when you click 'play' just hit on the link above it (Hey Blip.fm if you're listening?).

Thrills, Chills and Spills

Last night was up and down, to say the least. I was laying on the couch with the front door open enjoying the weather and watching Football when ALL OF A SUDDEN I was freezing cold. I mean Brrrrrr! I'm from CLEVELAND and I've never been this cold before. Against my new friend "Cut's" wishes I kinda leapt up which killed my stomach in order to get warm. Ouch! Kelly, totally going the extra mile for me, came back and made me yummy homemade potato soup for tomorrow while asking Dr. Google about chills related to anaesthesia. I got warm by frying up some Pierogi's.

WARNING! Blood Bag sighting directly below.

Because of this thing which will hang off me till Thursday I had the hardest time figuring out how to sleep. So, finally I figure it out and get into bed fairly pain free. Then I realized I had forgotten something so began to angle myself out of bed but misjudged where the floor was and sorta hung, suspended over the edge of my bed putting my stitches at the center of balancing. Bad combination! Baaaaaaaaaad.

So I decided to sleep on the couch which, by it's nature, would keep me from moving too much. Got to sleep eventually.

Oh, as possible payback for my posting about No. Va. women and their makeup I offer this stunning glimpse into what we Ohio boys wear while shopping for flannel shirts. 

How could the surgery go wrong?

Today, I had surgery to fix an umbilical hernia I've had from birth but from the minute I climbed into the cab to get to the hospital I knew (or at least I assumed) that everything would be fine.

It started with the driver who spent the entire time talking about her various surgeries and ended with her asking me to join hands with her as she called on Jesus to make sure it all went well (True!). When I got to the hospital I had to check in. As I was walking down the hall I saw the painting above. Wow! I thought, Jesus personally attends each surgery. It's pretty obvious, though, that he has bad operating room manners, I mean, no gloves, no mask! I wonder if he even scrubbed. 

Kelly met me in the recovery room and listened as the nurse gave me my instructions. Good thing since I was way too out of it to pay attention. Thank you Kelly!

So now I am supposed to lay low for a week at home and lay off any heavy lifting. Really, though, what I want to do is take the bandage off and see the cut. One thing kinda weird is I have a drainage bag hanging off my stomach that is collecting any leftover blood but so far there hasn't been much. Perhaps there will be more later tonight after I get back from my weekly Polka dance class.

You are invited!

There is a festival of arts called WOMAD (World of Music, Art and Dance) that is held at different locations around the world. The USA version was held in Seattle and I went to it four years in a row. The economics and problems with getting work visas for musicians post-9/11 effectively ended any chance the festival had of staying afloat.

The festival was created 27 years ago outside of Box, U.K and has grown to shows in Sicily, Spain, New Zealand, Australia and of course, the U.K.

The best way I can describe it is to say I am drunk the entire weekend without touching alcohol. Stages range from the Main one and spread down throughout the area ending up with the "Under the Tree" stage which is nothing more than a microphone under a tree where you can enjoy master musicians from around the world.

In 2007 WOMAD was having a 25th anniversary festival on the grounds of Charlton Park, outside of Wiltshire, U.K. and I made good on the promise of attending it.

For the occasion I did a dedicated blog called "Feet leading a wandering mind" and contains my thoughts as well as audio and video I recorded during the trip.

So, You Are Invited to learn more about WOMAD and hopefully attend one once.

Find out more about WOMAD.

For Chrissakes, Kojak's on!

I used to play wide receiver in organized touch football leagues when I was young. One game, after catching a pass I was pushed out of bounds, fell and broke my arm. It wasn't bad so I stayed though the game. When I got home I called out "Hey, I think I broke my arm and need to go to the hospital." My Mom wasn't allowed to drive so my Dad did all the driving. 

Anyway, when I saw Dad and told him the first thing out of his mouth was "For Chrissakes, Kojak's on!" So I, pissed off, said, "Fine, I'll drive myself." At the time I had a 1965 Ford Falcon. Cool car but it didn't have power steering so it drove like a Tank. I got in and had to use one arm to turn the wheel. When I got to the Hospital the first thing out of the Doctors mouth was "How did you get here and where are your parents?"

"Kojak's on and my Dad is watching it", was my reply. 

Needless to say, Dad got a call and was there in 15 minutes, forever lacking in the conclusion to his Kojak episode.

Why Floogee?

Flat foot Floogee was a #1 song in the 30's done by the artist Slim Gaillard. I first got hooked on him after seeing the film below on the best music show that no one watched, NBC's Sunday Night (1989, 1990) and became a fan. A few years after my Dad had died my Mom and I were driving one day and I had a Slim CD playing in the car. When she heard "flat foot' she said "your Dad LOVED this guy!" I didn't know that because we never had the chance to really talk Jazz (something he loved so I initially rejected) before he went Bye-Bye.

This was 1994 and the whole Internets, email thing was starting to explode so in order to bring my Dad into this new perverse way of communicating every personal email address I've ever had is "floogee@whatever."

There ya go.

Visiting a Mall in Northen Virginia

Last week I needed to pick up some jeans as well as stop by my local Apple store to lust for awhile when all of a sudden i heard 'scary' music in my head. I quickly realized why this debilitating fear overtook me.

It seems as though the women who visit malls in No. Va. feel the need to apply makeup when doing anything! It was almost Noon when I got there and some looked as though they were on a 'Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams' kinda date. Social standing counts on this planet but at what price?

To illustrate I am loading two pictures I took of a someone who had her purchase denied initially because she looked too plain. After applying, she was given "preferred status."

Before || After

Was Muddy Waters a victim of premature ejaculation?

Recently, I was listening to the song "Mannish Boy" by Muddy Waters and the line "I can make love to you woman in five minutes time" doesn't seem to me to be something to be necessarily proud of. Gals, want to weigh in? I mean, I'm all for a quickie, at least theoretically, but 5 minutes? As a claim of manhood?

I'm thinkin' Mr. Waters was satisfied but.....

NOTE: I was just informed that there is probably some kind of cream that fixes this but it probably doesn't work on dead people..