Happy Birthday Ringo Starr!

Happy 74th to Ringo Starr. He has kept that back beat for along time, providing the pulse to our lives along the way. It's down to him and Paul McCartney now to keep the legacy of the Beatles alive. Paul does his thing and Ringo his, but there are always Beatles songs included in both their sets. How could it be otherwise?

Here Ringo performs a very heartfelt tribute to George Harrison, his dear friend and band mate for so many years, who had just passed away from cancer at the all too young age of 55. It was actually George who brought Ringo into the band just in time for their first record, "Love Me Do", in the fall of 1962. The irony was that Ringo never got to play on that record. I believe they used a session drummer named Allan White.

Ringo has always gotten short shrift for his accomplishments with the Beatles. But he's the one responsible for all the malapropisms such as "A Hard Day's Night", "Tomorrow Never Knows", "Eight Day's A Week", and the title for the album "Rubber Soul", along with quite a few others. A very witty man, Ringo is.

His wife, Barbara Bach; along with Olivia, the widow of the late George Harrison; have both been the driving force behind a project in Romania which has been going on since the days after the fall of the communists. They have sponsored orphanages for the children of rape; most of whom had AIDS. Some of those children are now alive and disease free due to the work of these two remarkable women and the support of their husbands.

Ringo Starr is still performing his summer concerts with the ever changing "All Star Band". If you've never been to one of those concerts you're missing out. Happy Birthday Ringo- with a little help from your friends...

"Tempted" - Glenn Tillbrook

I was looking at some videos when I ran across this live, impromptu version of the old Squeeze hit "Tempted". Glenn Tillbrook was backstage, getting ready to perform in New York City when he did this for an interviewer from "Culture Catch!" What an impressive vocal performance; with no special acoustics provided; simply a guitar and an incredibly clear voice. But then again, he and Jools Holland always did amaze me with their vocals; as well as their writing.

I was in the Middle East for the entire year in 1981. I only made it home for a month in April and then again in late November. I used to miss out on a lot of new music while at sea. There was no satellite radio, VCR's etc. to keep us abreast of the new music, or even the news. Actually, when I think about it, it was pretty cool to not be bothered by the daily blitz of what's going on.

But, when we did get to a port we devoured everything we could find. I found Squeeze on a bootlegged cassette tape in an Arab souk in Alexandria. The guy had a whole cart full of every type of music you can imagine. And I mean a cart; as in horse drawn.

The whole market was strung with bare white light bulbs, like a state fair. There was music coming from the numerous boom boxes; which were for sale; and the music was a cacophony of sound from everywhere imaginable. There were African drums, Muslim calls to Prayer, Pop music like Squeeze, Symphonies and even Gregorian Chants; all available on these bootlegged tapes.

Food was another commodity which all sailors were eager to sample ashore. We ate well aboard ship, but steak and eggs; lobster and all the western foods paled beside the mysteries of something new. Spices filled the air and smoke from all the cooking fires made the night a bit hazy; the bare lights notwithstanding.

To this day, whenever I hear a song by Squeeze, I am instantly transported back to the time and place where I first heard their music. The cassette tape I bought that night became one of my favorites. 

I'm not sure, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that "Argybargy"; the album I had purchased; was largely about the Middle East and the Mediterranean coast; which is exactly where I was working at the time. The album was probably already over a year old. Sometimes being the last one to learn about something new can be very timely.

To compare the quality of Mr. Tillbrook's voice in the studio with his performance above, hit this link;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxoZB__lI8g

"Man on Fire" with Denzel Washington and Dakota Fanning (2004)

The fireworks from the 4^th have hardly settled, so get ready for some more explosive action in this unique thriller starring Denzel Washington as a burnt out government operative named John Creasy, who has had his fill of killing in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. He questions the morality of the things he did.

His former partner; Rayburn; played by Christopher Walken; has no such qualms. He has found a wife and a life living in Mexico. When John approaches him he is unsure of the direction his life is taking. Rayburn gets him a job as a body guard for a rich Mexican family. In the wake of all the kidnappings they are concerned for their 9 year old daughter’s safety.

Her name is Pita Ramos; played with great charm by Dakota Fanning. She soon develops a crush on the stoic and reserved Creasy, who insists it is not his job to be her friend, but to protect her. This is really a façade for the shell he has been forced to erect around his true feelings during his years working for the CIA. Little Pita is about to pierce that veil.

As Pita gets ready for a swimming contest the two become very good friends, and he encourages her to be her best. The little girl falls in love with him and even names her Teddy bear for him. Slowly Vreasy emerges from his shell and is learning to live again. And he likes it.

But when things take the ultimate tragic turn and Pita is kidnapped, the old Creasy comes back to life and he vows revenge on anyone who had anything to do with Pita’s disappearance. The surprise ending will have you wondering about the value we all place on material things. It will also leave you marveling at one man’s sense of self-sacrifice in order to assuage his own sense of guilt.

The Wedding - July 4, 1986

The following is an excerpt from "It's Only Me". 

July 4^th, 1986 came and the wedding was set for 4PM at the Church with a reception to follow at the Greenspring Valley Golf and Hunt Club. We were set up in a big tent on the edge of the golf course with the food catered and a large ice sculpture done by the Chef at the Club.

My best man, Seth Herman, and my friend Michael Held, were both on hand at the church to handle any problems associated with Ben; who lived around the corner; should he decide to make an appearance. I think the plan was to put him in the trunk of a car until Sue and I were gone, but nothing ever did happen.

4 PM came and Sue was late and I was worried and pissed off. She arrived 10 minutes later and I took my place at the Altar as she began the march down the aisle with Keith and Shane. I was overcome with the beauty of her walking towards me to spend our lives together.

Arriving at the Altar she turned to face me and we held hands. The Pastor blessed us and did the vows. I was crying the whole time. Whether it was from release that the last 2 years were behind us or because I would never know how our courtship would’ve gone without all the problems, I can’t really say. But I was very happy when Sue said I do and the Pastor pronounced us Man and Wife.

We went to the reception and it was really very nice. The weather was just perfect- not hot and no rain. We had about 80 people in all, including my Dad and his new wife Alice. My favorite Aunt Gloria and Uncle Bobby were there also. And they had bought along Nana, my Grandmother on my Dad's side. She was very happy and smiling. It was the last time I would ever see her and I am happy to remember her like that.

Most of the reception is a blur. I remember leaving and the boys were looking a bit apprehensive, wondering if we were ever going to come back for them. They were staying with their Grandma Marlene and her husband Grant. Sue and I were going to Mexico. Our plane didn’t leave until the following morning so we stayed at the hotel by the airport.

We got in the room and Sue went to change clothes- coming out of the bathroom ready to consummate our marriage. I was busy with the envelopes we had received as presents. Sue told me to put them down, “Don’t you want to see what’s under here?” she said, referring to the sexy outfit she had on. I looked at her and said, “I know what’s under there- I want to see what’s in the envelopes!”

Fixing me with a hard look in her eyes she said, “Put the envelopes down and consummate our marriage.” I did- but then went back to the envelopes…

The next morning we flew to Cancun, Mexico. At the time Cancun was new, having just been created on the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico as an economic way out of the devastation wrought by a bad hurricane a couple of years before that had virtually wasted their economy. Also the traditional tourist areas of Tijuana, Mexico City and Acapulco were plagued with crime. Cancun would be the new tourist destination. Surrounded by Inca ruins there was a lot to see and do.

Our first night was a misadventure. The hotel had us on the 7th floor with a beautiful view of the sea. But the room was sweaty- it was actually humid and there was moisture on the walls! We called the front desk and they said they would be right up. After an hour or so we called again. This time they said there was no one available to fix anything until the morning. We asked for a new room and were told there were none. We tried to stay in the room but it was really uncomfortable. Usually I would be a screaming maniac in order to get my due, but I didn’t want Sue thinking she had made a mistake in marrying me so I had to be calm.

By midnight we had finally agreed on a course of action. Taking our luggage we went down to the lobby and set up on the sofas. We even brought pillows down with us. The manager asked what we were doing. We told him we couldn’t move until the morning when our air conditioning was fixed. A room was found immediately on the 3rd floor. This was actually an improvement because we could seee the iquanas on the beach and began feeding them with the chocolate covered almonds from the snack bar in our room. At $6 a pack the iquanas were very appreciative and began hanging out beneath our windows.

The next day we began exploring, signing up for all the tours to the ruins. Sue wanted to see the Pyramids. We took a bus and headed off to see them. When we got there a little kid was selling ices and was really aggressive at it. I told him no about 10 times before he went away. Sue and I made the climb up and then back down. By this time we were sweating and thirsty. Spying the boy with the ices I went to get some. When he recognized me he said, “No ices for you Senor!” before huffily walking away. Kind of like the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld!

One day we went snorkeling and after we were through were resting at the edge of the lagoon. I saw a rowboat, abandoned and drifting towards the mouth of the lagoon. Having some sense of respect for small boats I dove in and did a power crawl type stroke to overtake the boat. I flopped into it and rowed back to shore thinking I had impressed my bride with my aquatic prowess. Sue went to use the ladies room and I went to the bar for a drink. That’s when all the exertion I had put forth hit me. I never even got to order. I passed out and slid to the floor! Sue attributes this to the ices I had eaten in a small village we passed through on the way. They were really good, but in retrospect they probably contributed to this whole ordeal.

Coming to after only a few seconds I tried to get some help but no one would pay any attention to me! I started to crawl out of the shack that was a bar on the edge of the jungle trail. I didn’t get very far before I had to stop and just lay there, sweating and heaving. The Mexicans that passed me pronounced me a “Gringo addicto,” a drug addict. The Americans who passed me by took me for a drunk Mexican. But no one would help me!

Sue was with the tour bus which was about to leave. She would not go without me and so they came back to find me. I think they were afraid of getting into trouble if they lost an American. I was carried back to the bus and the driver mixed Coca Cola with salt and made me drink it. Before long I was back to myself but I think I scared the hell out of Sue! The rest of our time was spent in the markets and shops buying souvenirs and gifts for the kids.

The time passed too quickly and we were home again. But it was a beautiful trip and made me realize how empty all my previous travels had been without someone special by my side. Now we were home and it was time to find a real job.

Sue and I are still together as of this writing. But who knows, she could always change her mind...

Writing As I Speak - A Contrast

The one thing of which I have never been accused  is the title of this post; "Writing As I Speak." I don't. To paraphrase Jack Nicholson, "You couldn't handle it!" The truth is, at times, neither can I! Let's just say that it's all a matter of taste. I read some blogs that are laced with profanity; veritable lessons in the use of certain words as verbs, adverbs, nouns and adjectives; sometimes all at once! Again, it doesn't make the writing; or the writer; less valid, it's just not my style. However...

Speaking with me in person can be quite an experience to someone not at ease with the use of profanity as normal grammar. But, I come by it in an honest, or as near an honest, way as possible. My Dad taught me to curse when I was about 3. It was a wonderfully glorious word; actually a compound word; having both a maternal component; making it a noun; along with an action part; making it a verb. So, it was, I suppose, a noun-verb.

The occasion of this lesson in the art of compounding different words lay in the fact that the guy who had just cut us off probably did do that with his mother when he got home. Nevertheless, with me being only three years old, the remark was probably one that my Dad should have avoided making in my presence. And, for good reason...

My immediate reaction was to ape the word in my high pitched little kid voice, which prompted my Dad to say, "Don't say that word in front of your mother." He said it with an earnest quality, one with which I was unaccustomed, and seizing upon the fear that I perceived in his tone; children are very attuned to parental fear and unafraid to employ it as a weapon; I promptly burst into the kitchen when we arrived home and denounced my mother as a fornicator of her own mother, which quite frankly shocked the hell out of her! Not to mention my Dad, who; employing the age old tactic of turning the table; said, "We don't use words like that! Go to your room!" Never much of a pushover; even at that age I knew something was amiss; I replied, "But you use that word all the time!" Stretching the truth, even when so young, was not beyond my capabilities. However, I was still banished to my room.

Over the years, growing up in Brooklyn, I was able to refine my verbal skills, and still later, 8 years at sea travelling the world, I honed my abilities in this regard; to the point that I was able to curse in about 10 languages at one point, including Greek and Arabic!

I make a really concerted effort to control my tongue when children are present, not wanting to contribute to their moral demise, and thus creating another me. But, in conversation with most adults I'm afraid that I sometimes slip back to my days at sea and "cuss like a sailor." I make no apology, for I believe, as Clarence Darrow did, that "There are too damn few words as it is, and I think we should use all of them."

So, if you meet me on the street, don't be surprised, or offended, if I speak differently than I write. When all is said and done, "It's Only me."

The photo above was taken at the “old Mill” at Avenue U in Brooklyn on Easter Sunday 1957. This was just around the time I learned to curse.

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Yankee Doodle Dandy - Happy 4th of July!

Notice how he doesn't even look down at his feet. Happy Fourth of July everyone!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today would be my Mom’s 85^th birthday. She passed on fairly early; as a matter of fact I am now older than she was when she left us at the age of 55, just days after her birthday. She had been ill for so long it was almost a gift for her to finally be free from the pain which had become almost second nature. Her illness colors much of my childhood memories, but not my memories of who she was. If that doesn’t make sense I can’t explain it, so you’ll simply have to take me on faith.

You see, my Mom was sick; from the time I was 5 years old, until she died of the complications from pancreatic cancer 25 years later. I only knew her for about the first 5 years before she became ill. But I do have very warm recollections of those times; clouded in the haze of early childhood. 

I remember being young enough to have a "sink" bath; that is, being washed in the kitchen sink rather than the tub; so I must have been about 3 or 4 years old. I can remember her calling out to my brother and I from the 4th floor window of our apartment at 3619 Bedford Avenue at Kings Highway; even throwing down change wrapped in a paper towel for ice cream. I don't think anything can dislodge those memories from my mind.

I can also still recall her striped dress and her dresser drawer full of kerchiefs. I know that I have printed this here before, but indulge me as I remember her with these lyrics, written several years ago while thinking about her sitting at the piano; on the beach; or just sitting on the sofa reading a book. 

The photograph at the top was the inspiration for the lyrics and it is also the first family outing I remember, on Veteran’s Day, November 11, 1957. I had just turned 3 years old. In it I am discovering the mysteries associated with the clam shell.

I Can Never See You

I can still see you there,

standing by the door.

Wearing your red kechief and your coat.

And though I think I see your face

so clearly in my mind,

I know I'll never see you anymore.

I can still hear your voice

it's ringing in my head.

I can hear the words to every song.

And though I think I hear your voice,

So clearly in my mind,

I know I'll never hear it anymore.

Times a worthless master,

it will steal your heart away.

It robs you just a little at a time.

And suddenly you realize that

you've got nothing left,

she's taken all the things you once called "mine."

Olivia DeHavilland - Free Agent

A very Happy Birthday to Olivia DeHavilland! Most people think of her as Melanie in "Gone With the Wind", or as Maid Marian in "Robin Hood"; or as a score of other characters she portrayed in her long and storied career. And that would be enough of a legacy in and of itself. But there is more to Ms. De Havilland's story than all that.

When you pick up the sports pages, and see the articles about athletes negotiating as "free agents", we never think of the role Ms. De Havilland played in the drama of labor negotiations. Actually, when you come right down to it, she is the star of that show.

Ms. De Havilland was under contract to Warner Brothers for seven years in 1943 when she filed suit. Her initial one year contract had been extended each year since 1936 for a total of 7 years. The studio was trying to take the position that the extensions were separate contracts of 1 year apiece. The court ruled that 1 times 7 equals 7 and so she was free to pursue her interests with other studios.

It’s a good thing, too. Otherwise we might not have her in such groundbreaking films as “The Snake Pit.” Her victory in the case became known as the De Havilland Law and affects entertainers in film, television and even the music industry. 

The De Havilland Law is the informal name of California Labor Code Section 2855, the California law disallowing personal services contracts between an entity and one party beyond 7 years from the original date of contract. These are contracts apply to individuals who's services cannot be duplicated by anyone else. Athletes are a good example, as well as actors and some musicians.

This was quite a blow to the old “studio” system of making movies. Although that system did reward the actors/actresses with security; and a good bit of money; it had a chilling effect on the creative side of things. Actors were not free to make movies with actors from other studios. That would come later on; after Ms. De Havilland became a “free agent.”

So, this year I’m wishing a very Happy Birthday to a woman who was ahead of her time and made a difference in the lives of so many creative people. Without her successful fight for her own artistic freedom, which is what this case was all about, think of all the wonderful artists and performers who may have never reached their apex. That loss would have been ours.

Ms. De Havilland as Maid Marian in "Robin Hood".