Who Wrote "Under the Bleachers"? (An Email Reprint)

Seymore Butts.   Whaa whaa whaaaaa.

When I attended the University of South Dakota, the local record store, Uncle John Goes to College, had a "free records" bin on the sidewalk that I liked to dig through. One free record - "Blowin'" by the Jess Roden Band - was okay, and it was just okay enough for me to keep it all these years. 

I was considering it for a mp3 email, so I did some research on Jess Roden. As usual, the research was pretty interesting. I had no idea that Jess Roden had a connection to The Doors.

Throughout its existence, the band The Doors consisted of vocalist Jim Morrison, keyboardist Ray Manzarek, drummer John Densmore, and guitarist Robby Krieger.  Two years after Jim Morrison's 1971 death, the three remaining members of The Doors were in England auditioning new singers. 

According to Krieger, "...the problem was after Jim had gone, the three of us couldn’t get along anymore. We did for a while but after a while, it got very strange. We all decided to go to England and maybe find a singer over there. So we all went over there, kind of moved over there. Then Dorothy, Ray’s wife, got pregnant and she had gone through some weird stuff. So Ray decided to go back home. John and I were stuck over in London, so we formed this group called the Butts Band with Phil Chen, who at that time was the hot bass player in England, like the James Jamerson of England. We had a singer named Jess Roden and a keyboard player named Roy Davis. It was really a good band..." (Wikipedia).

Also according to Wikipedia, Krieger said the band's name came from the idea that they were just a bunch of guys sitting on their butts waiting for a gig. 

I agree with Mr. Krieger, The Butts Band were a really good band (with a really dumb name).

Links:  "Be with Me" - Butts Band "Sweet Danger" - Butts Band

Scenes from A December Weekend

Charlotte's dance group had a recital at the mall on Friday night. Watching her dance is one of my favorite things.

I think there's some dance law somewhere that states you have to pose with friends after a performance.

Since we were already at the mall, we celebrated at Flix. 

The dress rehearsal for the Christmas program was at the church on Saturday. We took Char to Tsing Tsao for lunch afterwards. She loves their Egg Drop soup. 

This is what Char looks like after five bowls of Egg Drop Soup. 

Hey! I know that angel. It must be time for the real Christmas program.

It's not a harp, but let's see how she plays her bell.

And here comes the all important "line":

After church, we went to brunch at The Radish in Grimes. How's your bacon, Char?

Good food. Good times. 

At Least I Had One (An Email Reprint)

This email was sent on March 6, 2012. Charlotte was 2 and a half years old.

No matter how crabby I am, no matter how poorly I've slept, no matter how much I may be dreading the workday, all of that melts away when I slowly open my daughter's bedroom door in the morning. I could have been cursing the clock twenty seconds earlier, but I'll find myself smiling and whispering in a higher octave as soon as I turn that doorknob.

Sometimes Charlotte is already awake, chattering away to her stuffed menagerie, and she'll say, "Daddy!" and point at me while I peak around the opening bedroom door. It's very cool.

What's better yet is finding her lying on her tucked-in arms with her bottom sticking up in the air. I get to rub her back and say things like, "Hey there, Pooty Butt. It's time to get up..." Watching her transform from a silent, little lump of pajamas into a smiling, dancing girl is quite a sight to behold. 

Some days I know this will be the best moment of my day, but at least I had a best moment. 

Link: I Get a Kick Out of You

FYI: "Pooty Butt" didn't stick as far as nicknames go - a fact both Daphne and Charlotte appreciate. I am still the one who wakes her up on schooldays, but I rub her back and call her "Princess," instead.

Such is Life (An Email Reprint)

This email was written in January of 2012.

When I discuss literature in my classes, I try to suggest interpretations to the material that students might not have considered. I'll be hard pressed to ever tell a student that their perception of the material is wrong. Very few, if any, stories and essays are written for the exclusive purpose of being published in a high school textbook, so absolute answers to textbook questions don't exist. Nonsensical answers don't count, but every well thought out opinion is valid. 

With this in mind, here's "C'est La Mort" by The Civil Wars. I hadn't yet read the lyrics when I first played their CD in my car, and without a working knowledge of the French language, I didn't hear a song about a love that lasts beyond death. 

Instead, as I'm cruising around in a car littered with picture books, sippy cups, and teething rings, I heard a song about a parent making the impossible plea for their child to not grow up and grow away. 

Don't go 

Please don't go

Don't go without me

I actually had to wipe away a few tears. It's funny how parenting affects interpretation, but C'est la vie.

Link: "C'est La Mort" - The Civil Wars

Feeling Like a King (An Email Reprint)

I don't remember her exact age, but Charlotte was in a baby carrier that faced the rear of the car when I wrote this email. When I listen to this song now, it takes me right back to that moment. Music makes time travel possible.

I recently took Charlotte for a slow car trip around the Saylorville Lake camping areas. I was hoping the rhythm of the ride would help her settle down and take the nap that she was refusing. To help me pass the time, I quietly previewed the "Hightone Records Catalog Sampler" CD that I had rescued from a free bin at the record store. 

As I was playing track two, "King O California" by Dave Alvin, I glanced back into the rear seat's baby mirror. I hadn't heard any complaints in awhile, and I expected to see closed eyes and maybe a bobbing head. Instead, Char's eyes were open and turned upwards to the side window. Her right hand had screwed the pink pacifier into the corner of her mouth, and as she watched the trees pass beneath the grey sky, her mouth was working up and down. Curious, I turned the stereo down to a whisper, and I could hear that, in her own way, Charlotte was singing along.


That's such a good memory. This is now one of my favorite songs. 

Link: "King O California" - Dave Alvin 

The Depth of Kyle (An Email Reprint)

A few years ago, before I started this blog, I sent emails with musical attachments to friends. I had learned how to convert songs from old vinyl albums, 8-track tapes, and cassettes into mp3s. I was excited to share forgotten music from recordings that I had discovered in thrift stores. You might be surprised how many great songs were left to rot on these "dead" formats.

I had this theory that every record, no matter how bad, had at least one interesting song on it. I wasn't restricted to thrift store finds; sometimes I found music out in the "wild."

Here's an email about a CD that I found in 2010:

Listening to a found mix CD is a little like reading a page torn out of a diary. The songs are a snap shot of a person's identity and tastes at the moment they clicked the "burn CD" button. I was pushing Charlotte in her stroller when I found Kyle's discarded CD on a road near our house, and it's got me a bit stumped.

There are twelve tracks on this CD, eleven of which are rap songs that are performed by artists I don't know, and most become school inappropriate within a few bass beats.

So, just as I'm thinking there's not much I can share from this CD, I come across one country song. I don't know this artist either, but at least I can google a lyric at work without getting fired: "I recognized them dark green eyes when you do-si-doed across the floor." It's "8 Second Ride" by Jake Owen.

Now, I don't know if country music and rap are exactly polar opposites, but it's a pretty big jump to go from popping champagne corks to popping in a dip. Which leads to me to reconsider Kyle.

Is he that diverse, or is one of the genres on the disc just a ruse? Is he spinning "8 Second Ride" as he pulls into the driveway so his rap music doesn't worry his parents? Does he cruise around town thumping his subs only to secretly crave driving a tractor down a gravel road?  

And what about the title "Plies Mix"? "Plies" is plural for "ply" which is defined as "a thickness or layer of a folded or laminated material". Maybe Kyle's hinting that both rap and country are only two levels of his multiple layered personality?  I don't know, and maybe Kyle doesn't either. 

Maybe that's why he threw away his CD.

link

I Once Caught a Remote This Big

I was trying to find a large, universal remote for my in-laws. I spotted this while shopping on Amazon. 

I don't think this is the one I am going to buy. You can surf on that.