Go cruising with Plainsense in his Boattail Riv. Along the way we will discuss what's on our mind while drinking a craft beer, smoking a fine cigar and only listening to good music. So hop in and let's go! I only ask that you throw in a little gas money.
Monday, December 28, 2020
Remembering Ted Hawkins; Born October 28, 1936; Died January 1, 1995: Passing Mention of Ted Hawkins at Christmas Eve Family Gathering Leads to Strange Conversation
Friday, November 6, 2020
Watch the Rats Scurry to Get off SS Trump NOW that Pennsylvania has Flipped
Saturday, October 31, 2020
A Poem to Sum Up the 2020 Presidential Election By Elayne Griffin Baker
“There is no art in this White House.
There is no literature or poetry in this White House. No music. …
There are no pets in this White House.
No man’s best friend. No Socks the family cat.
No kid’s science fairs.
No times when this president takes off the blue suit-red tie uniform and becomes human, except when he puts on his white shirt- khaki pants uniform and hides on the golf course.
There are no images of the first family enjoying themselves together in a relaxing moment — anywhere.
No moments like Obamas on the beach in Hawaii, or Bushes fishing in Kennebunkport, no Reagans on horseback, no Kennedys playing touch football on the Cape. …
Where did that country go?
Where did all the fun and joy and expressions of love and happiness go? We used to be a country that did the ice bucket challenge and raised millions for charity.
We used to have a president that calmed and soothed the nation instead of dividing it.
And a First Lady that planted a garden instead of ripping one out.
We are rudderless and joyless.
We have lost priceless cultural aspects of society that make America great.
We have lost our mojo. Our fun, our happiness.
The cheering on of others.
The shared experiences of humanity that makes it all worth it.
The challenges AND the triumphs that we shared and celebrated.
The unique can-do spirit Americans have always been known for.
We are lost.
We have lost so much in so short a time.”
Sunday, September 27, 2020
Sugar Ray and the Bluetones Collaboration with Little Charlie Baty, "Too Far From the Bar", Is this Year's Winning Ticket!
If you live in a battleground state, like I do, you are probably fed up with the political ads running ad nauseum on every device you own. The fact that it is still only September has most people wanting to head to their favorite bar hoping to take refuge in a stiff drink and, if your lucky, some live music. Anything for a distraction.
Unfortunately, that is not an option thanks to the pandemic. But there is an alternative for those who find themselves "Too Far From the Bar" with the election year blues and it comes courtesy of Sugar Ray Norcia and his Bluetones, featuring the late Little Charlie Baty.
On paper this project looks like a no brainer. Take one of the best blues vocalist and harp players and his group of stalwart musicians and combine them with a legendary blues guitarist. As an added bonus, bring in an equally legendary and talented blues guitarist/producer as your ringleader and you should have, in theory, a good result. But expectations can be misleading and some of the best laid plans often go awry. Thankfully that is not the case in this instance. Messrs Norcia and Baty along with the immensely talented Bluetones, pianist Anthony Geraci, bassist Mudcat Ward and drummer Neil Gouvin, all contribute on what in my mind is the best blues release so far this year.
Produced by and playing guitar on four tracks is Roomful of Blues founder and original guitarist, Duke Robillard. After leaving Roomful in the mid 1970s Robillard has compiled a resume that is the envy of most musicians. Whether it was as a member of the Fabulous Thunderbirds or the honor of touring with Bob Dylan, Robillard's guitar playing has always been in demand. In addition Robillard has maintained his prolific solo discography and somehow found the time to launch a side project reuniting many of the originals members of Roomful of Blues called the Founders. As if all that were not enough, lately Duke has developed quite a reputation as a producer of other artists. Most notably, the Robillard produced This Time for Real by Billy Price and Otis Clay earned the Blues Music Award for Soul/Blues album of the year in 2016.
In a tragic coincidence, like Otis Clay who passed away suddenly in 2016, Little Charlie Baty died unexpectedly from a heart attack this past March. While 66 years is way too young to shuffle off this mortal coil, Little Charlie can be proud of the fact that he went out at the top of his game as evidenced by this fine work.
Tuesday, September 15, 2020
Hubert Humphrey on Speed? What Would Hunter S. Thompson Think About This Revelation Concerning One of his Most Loathed Politicians?
Just read Hannah Jones' revelatory article in this week's edition of City pages entitled "So, Tommy James slipped Hubert Humphrey some speed this one night..."
That's right, you heard me correctly, Tommy James the musician and leader of the Shondells once gave the then Vice President and 1968 Presidential candidate a "black beauty" (i.e. amphetamine pill) to help the drowsy Humphrey stay up after a long day on the campaign trail.
Friday, July 3, 2020
The Nighthawks On the Blue Highway: On the Road with B Town Slim and the Bad Boys from Bethesda
Note: This article was written back in 2017 and never posted.
I finally got to see Michael Streissguth's excellent documentary on a subject near and dear to my heart: "Nighthawks on the Blue Highway: A Film About the Hardest Working Band in America". Watching the DVD at my good friend Ralph's house last Saturday the memories came rushing back so rather than ruin another screening of this gem of a music documentary I thought I would put my remembrances down for posterity. This film is also timely as my first viewing coincided with the passing of Gregg Allman whose collaboration with the Hawks is covered in the film.
As background, I first saw the band warm up for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes with special guest Ronnie Spector at the Warner Theater in about 1977 and was blown away. Since that show I have seen them dozens and dozens of times. When I moved away from D.C. (No. Va) and back to my
hometown of Minneapolis in 1979 I introduced myself to the guys when they came to town and would follow them around the upper midwest whenever they came within driving distance.
When I graduated law school in the Spring of 1986 I bought a new motorcycle for the express purpose of living my dream and following the Hawks on an extended tour of the Mid and South West. While my classmates studied for the bar exam I was riding from town to town on a schedule that could only be described as brutal. Any notion that the life style of professional musicians was that of the "Rich and Famous" was quickly dispelled. But no matter how long the ride or how bad the weather, or running out of money at the end of my trip, it was all worth it because each night I was rewarded with the best in live music by one of America's greatest bands at the height of its powers.
It was humbling to see the respect they garnered around the country. The after bar (VZD's) party I went to with Jimmy at a local musicians' home in Oklahoma City talking music and listening to Jimmy on acoustic guitar until dawn, staying at the Rodeway Inn in Austin, TX (a dump, the band stayed elsewhere) where CB Stubbs had his restaurant and where I had dinner (great juke box) and then seeing a blasted CB show up at Antones (a former Country Kitchen or Pizza Hut!) where he walked out on stage and attempted to sing (Mojo Working) but only looked foolish (you would never laugh at him as he was such a large man). I will never forget attempting to order breakfast at his restaurant the next morning: One of his daughters was the waitress and in response to my request for eggs and bacon she said "You can have cold beans and rice cause Daddy says we can't make any noise with the pots and pans" and then whenever someone entered or exited the kitchen there was that mountain of a man with an ice pack on his head moaning sitting at a table in the kitchen.
There was the show at Joseph's Foodliner down in San Antonio after which Thackery grabbed a case of some "exotic" beer called Corona and joined a friend and I back at our motel room drinking and listening to the greatest stories like the riot at Jimmy's 21st birthday party in Bethesda and his meeting Root Boy Slim for the first time...at one point Jimmy tried to teach me to sing like my idol Eddie Hinton. But what I will forever remember and cherish about that trip was the final stop for me with the band on that 2 week, nearly 4,000 mile trip, in Kansas City, MO. The night before the band had played in Wichita, home to one of the country's best blues societies and to a crowd of very knowledgeable blues fans. One of the Hawk fans , Tim Fairhurst, Jimmy entrusted with his beloved but shabby looking fedora. Tim promised to take it to one of the country's best hatters, Wichita Jack, to be cleaned and blocked and had it back to Jimmy the next night in Kansas City.
I had spent the last bit of cash and all the money in my bank account for a hotel room by the band at the down town Howard Johnson on the river. The band was playing that night at the Lone Star in West Port (where video I mention was shot). I was in a panic since the money my relatives put in my bank account was not yet electronically available and wouldn't be for 3 days. I literally had no gas money to get back home to Minneapolis let alone food and beer money. So even though I had been hanging out with Jimmy alot on my trip and was sadly hearing about his plan to depart my beloved band I would also hang with Jan and Mark at times and hear their perspectives. But when my chips were down it was Mark who came through for me like a big brother. But he wasn't just going to just give or loan me the money, that would have been too easy and set a bad example for an already spoiled child of middle class privilege, oh no he did me a favor and taught me one of those lessons I would remember for the rest of my life, he said if I would do some work for him that afternoon he would pay me by buying me dinner and then the gas money to get home. Just the idea of hanging out with Mark for an afternoon was cool beyond my wildest dreams... I should be paying him I thought to myself. Little did I know what I had got myself into.
I will never forget the ride to the former Kenny's Cycle Shop where I was to work off my board and gas money. It was a blistering hot June day with a temperature approaching 100 degrees as Mark drove the band's van. On the way there I asked Mark if he remembered one of the lines to Chuck Berry's Promised Land and he sang me the whole thing including verses I had never heard before. To this day how someone can memorize the lyrics to so many songs still astounds me. We arrived at an old warehouse district of Kansas City which looked like it had seen its better days a century earlier. When we entered the shop Mark was welcomed like the return of a prodigal son. After numerous greeting between Mark and the owner as well as the extremely tough looking staff, the owner said "who is Rudolph?" referring to my bright red nose from nearly 2 weeks of riding. There was a constant stream of rough looking guys showing up all afternoon long. I later learned from Mark that the the owner (the name Wayne sticks in my head for some reason) was known in the biker community to give jobs to men fresh out of prison which was often a condition of their parole. It was very apparent that the shop was over staffed but I never saw him turn down a man's request for work the entire time we were there. I found the following photo ascribed to Wayne's Motorcycle Sales and Service on the internet. I hope I am correct in thinking his shop was the former Kenny's.
The owner and Mark had a brief discussion and then we ascended to the steaming hot upper floors that served as a parts warehouse. Mark explained that the location had been a Harley Davidson dealership since the late 1920's until the mid 1970's when AMF took over the company. The last ten years the owner operated as a custom bike shop but now it was time to retire and Mark had designs on his parts inventory. We spent the afternoon picking our way through several floors of dusty OEM Harley parts which for Mark was like a kid in a candy store. After several hours we returned to the first floor where I overheard Mark and the owner having hushed negotiations before agreeing on a price with a handshake. After a quick estimation of how many semi loads it would take to move the inventory, Mark looks over at me and says "How about dinner?"
As I had not had much to eat the last couple of days, I was more than ready. Mark did not take me out for just any meal but in the home of barbecue Mark takes me to Gates, but not one of the umpteen franchises that dot the greater K.C. landscape, but to the original restaurant in the heart of the African American community. Now here is the coolest thing , Mark got the same greeting in Gates that he got from the biker crowd, and we were the only honkies in the joint. I learned that day to be with Mark is to be treated with love and respect because that's how he treated others.
https://youtu.be/JrmZR-W9ecw
That night there was going to be quite a thunderstorm so it was suggested I ride to the gig at the Lone Star with the band. When we arrived there was a guy setting up a professional Sony hifi camera on a tripod. He approached the band to ask permission to film the show where to my great surprise and honor Mark and Jimmy said "take it up with our lawyer" gesturing to me. My conditions were that it not be sold commercially without further permission and most importantly, that I receive a copy. It turns out the guy filming was big in the nascent music video industry having just shot the new, clothespin please, Van Halen video. Highlights that night include a fight breaking out on the dance floor , a close call narrowly missing being involved in a bad accident on the drive back to the hotel and hanging with the reggae band also staying at our hotel (if you get my splif).
My life has been so incredibly enriched by the music education I have received, just by paying attention to the band's influences and the friendships I have made from my acquaintances in the band and their fans, simply because "I have seen the Nighthawks"! Long live B Town Slim and the Bad Boys from Bethesda!!
Saturday, May 30, 2020
Bold Initiative to Change the Police Culture in the State of Minnesota
Sunday, April 5, 2020
How Does One Rate a Perfect "10" "Wartime President"? Churchill Would Know.
The Guardian article went on to describe the basis for Konyndyk harsh analysis, "...the White House had all the information it needed by the end of January to act decisively. Instead, Trump repeatedly played down the severity of the threat, blaming China for what he called the 'Chinese virus' and insisting falsely that his partial travel bans on China and Europe were all it would take to contain the crisis".
The following two graph's from the statistics pros at Our World Data illustrate the possible relationship (notice I don't say causal effect, I leave that up to the statisticians) between conducting early and aggressive testing, combined with isolating and practicing social distancing and success at flattening the curve.
I don't think Churchill would be kind in his critique of our self-described "Wartime President". If he were alive today, not only would Churchill be sounding the alarm, comparing Trump's naivete vis a vis Putin's Russia to that of Chamberlin's naivete vis a vis Hitler's Germany, but he would also be aghast over Trump not knowing the first thing about effective leadership in times of crisis. Churchill understood that with good leadership you can overcome great adversity.
Good leaders quell fear and motivate with credibility and facts not puffery and deceptive salesmanship. Besides Churchill clearly knew the difference between the "beginning of the end" (as Trump declared from the very onset of the crisis and up until very recently) and the "end of the beginning".
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
A Question to Ask the President at Next COVID19 Press Conference
Invariably our narcissistic and insecure President misperceives the highly predictable and legitimate question as abject criticism of him and launches into a disrespectful and abusive tirade on the reporter and/or their news agency. While such behavior may make for high Neilson ratings (something the President is so preoccupied with he actually bragged about the ratings during a COVID19 press conference) much like the effect of Judge Judy's non-judicial demeanor or car crashes during Nascar races, the office of the Presidency and the seriousness of the subject deserve better.
A more competent and less insecure President, using a little humility and respect, would take what in reality was a softball question and knock it out of the park. Unfortunately, like in all previous attempts, the reporters questions have fallen just short. This allowed the President to go into his rote defense we all have heard countless times.
Yes Mr . President, you did take early action in stopping travel from China in late January and a little later from Europe and for that I do give you credit. But that was about the only early action you did take during the critical first several weeks after being briefed by the intelligence agencies of the severity of the danger posed by the COVID-19 virus late last year. Instead of implementing the government’s guidelines for communication, you made statements during your press conferencces that were incorrect, misleading and often contradictory. This lack of coherent and consistent messaging when mixed with early indecision on ventilators and the need for shut downs and social distancing, and most importantly the failure to lead an early, coordinated, crash program bringing the vast resources of the federal government to bear on developing a reliable and efficient antibody test so that we can conduct widespread surveillance testing of the population have put the country in its present precarious position But it didn’t have to turn out this way. Instead you squandered precious time with misplaced priorities (e.g. your re-election and the economy) which, God forbid, may cost tens of thousands of United States citizens their lives.
So the question I would have asked the President if I were a White House reporter is:
“Mr. President, the federal government guidelines for how the government should communicate with the public during a national health crisis consists of the following core principles: “Be first”, “be right”, “be credible“, “show respect” and “promote action”. Do you think that it is important to follow your governments own guidelines? If not why?
In follow-up Mr. President, while I appreciate the fact you have, in your words, tried to be “optimistic” and not just come out here day after day with messages of doom and gloom, but with all due respect sir, that approach flies in the face of the expert guidance for handling a public health crisis. Do you think that approaching this national health crisis in the same manner you would a large business transaction using the same skill sets have served the country well?”
The fact is the President has been violating nearly every one of the core principles for dealing with a public health crisis. President Trump is who he is, a business promoter. He approaches every situation like he is selling a deal. He calls it being optimistic. Up until recently it has served him well. However times of national crises require a very different skill set. Problems of this magnitude require a governmental response. If your whole political career is based upon the belief that government is the enemy and we should dismantle it, of course your leadership will be ineffective. We are a government of the people. The government is us. During times of national crisis we do not need a one trick pony, a business huckster. During less serious times a Donald Trump might get away with playing President and amuse the antigovernment contrarians with his “breath of fresh air” approach (putting it politely) but in times of crisis it comes off for what it is, just idiot wind.