End of a Great Era

I awoke yesterday to the news that Clarence Clements had died the night before (Sat. June 10, 7pm) and it was similar (in the past) to when I got the news that a  Major Rocker had passed. I will always remember where I was when I heard about Jimi,  Janis, Jim M, Elvis, even Rick Nelson.

It may have been a combination of things that caused it to hit me so hard: There was 20 minutes of sobbing before I could even get out of bed. I'm still trying to sort it all out.

Even though I never met Bruce Springsteen or his band, I've been on board with their mission and music since year one; 1973. The folks at radio KLOL 'got' it right away and were solidly behind this new guy Springsteen, 'played Greetings From Asbury Park album  with a passion (remember when radio had passion?). A local music venue, Liberty Hall, hired Bruce and his band right away (when gigs were few and far between). They played the former movie theater 2-3 times before moving to larger music halls.

It was a lot like finding religion; I was telling everyone I knew about this guy and his amazing approach to music. I made just about everyone I knew sit and listen to the first and second Springsteen albums.
I have always said Rock and Roll is a religion. I have never believed it more than now. No doubt the Unitarian in me finds it easy to stretch the definition to fit.

The music of my youth was/is a place I could find hope, answers to my questions about love and life.
It still lifts me up in a way little else can.
Bruce Springsteen's vision still amazes me, first in how his ideas are so massive and seemingly limitless in scope. Second in that he doggedly achieved what he set out to do, but most importantly, he did it with his tribe, his band. They all grew together to become not just one of the worlds greatest rock bands, but a force that effected the path of countless lives.

Sound like an overstatement? I don't think it is.

There are millions of followers of the man's music around the world. What we are followers of is more than the music. It is the underlying message:

There is a "Promised Land" waiting in this life.
You can make a good life for yourself no matter the circumstance of your birth
All men are brothers
Dignity starts with courage

Alright, I also like his politics. He is on the side of everything I am on the side of.
All that realization came to pass over years, through discovery.

But back to The Big Man.

There really was something magical about the two of them on that stage together. Everyone knew it.
I wonder now if Bruce would have gone as far if he and Clarence had never met.
Right now it is hard to imagine Bruce out there minus Clarence Clement's amazing presence.
It is a void I am feeling personally.

Ch Ch Ch Changes

I'm starting to wonder if those people burning the hectics in the olden days might have had something. (kidding).

The changes going on in the world (present day) are really huge and are really scary. It is like the ground shifting... especially when I talk to friends in the entertainment industry and their story is the same as mine.
Reading the Albert Brooks novel "2030, What Really happens to America", is like reading a prophecy that is coming true before our eyes, (screw 2030).
Whole industries disappearing, ways of life with it.
Now as we all know, when something disappears, something else takes it's place right? True that, but all too often what "takes it's place" is far less than the original.
If we agree that all problems are spiritual in nature, we have our meditations cut out for us now and for the foreseeable future.

A Hamburger now for payment next Tuesday

Being a 'Lord of Land(s) is not dull, and often rather amusing (when it's not terrifying). We have 2 small properties we own and lease to people seeking shelter from the heat. At present we are marketing one of them as our prior tenants skipped out a month ago.
Not being Caldwell Banker or Century 22, seems to lead just about everyone with an angle to our door.
I know people gotta have a place to live, etc. And that includes felons, bankrupties, people with pets with reputations for killing people, and so on. We weed them out with our criteria list usually. That explains why so often we are left with people who didn't read the list or don't think we mean it.

I got a nice note from a young lady informing me she had just signed a lease with her present landlord, but would break it if I could give her a better deal... How exciting!

We had a fella with a roomate who offered to rent the house at $145 discount/month in exchange for him signing an 18 month lease instead of a 12 month lease. The same man told me clearly how his credit was bad and he didn't make much money right now. He felt I should take it because ultimately he would pay more in the 18 months than I would collect in a regular 12 month lease. He even did the math for me!

It reminds me of a time many summers ago when management was changed in a resort my band had worked for about 3 years. Of course I was canned and dirt cheap teenage bands were brought in. After a few weeks, the agent booking the room called to offer me the rest of the summer if I brought my group back. I told him what I had been getting (good money and perks). He said "oh no, they're not doing anything like that now." So I asked "why should I be interested in coming back if they don't at least match what I've been making?" His (sincere) reply: "This is EVERY WEEK for the rest of the summer!" Can these two guys be related?

Anyway, if you know somebody reasonably set that needs a comfortable place to live...

The Book of Jobs: part 127

I never get tired of the cry for politicians to create "jobs". A few days after I did a short post on FB about it, This American Life did an hour study on the subject. As you might suspect, politicians have nothing to do with creating jobs. They only take credit when jobs are stolen, like from a neighboring state. It's like taking credit for a rising stock market after it plunged lower than anyone can imagine. Oh yeah, they do that too.

I was once a job creator, I would be again if their was any money in it. You can't hire people if there is not enough for them to do. So my business now is me and an occasional helper, no employees.

I spent the weekend working a fairly large music festival and came away with the impression that it is about the same everywhere. The festival had bands, on Friday evening. On Saturday it was all solo acts.
Even the headliner, a Mr Jackson Browne (who's hits include tunes from his live shows with his band) just strummed his guitar(s) and played one of the smallest keyboards I have ever seen. His tour did employ a driver for the enormous 18 wheel truck hauling his guitars and keyboard, a bus driver for the tour bus. The other acts simply flew in and got picked up at the airport. Most all these folks would rather be playing with a live band, but when the money drops and their are fewer gigs . . . well, they're not out there to lose money.

Strange Events at 215 Parkside

When I was 11 years old, my parents bought a house on the west side of Chicago in an area known as Austin. There was once a town there that got gobbled up by the city as it grew west. It was the coolest place I ever lived, and to this day, when I dream of home, I dream of this place (just happened last night).

We lived there about 5 years, and in that time enough weird stuff took place to fill a book. I will try to stick with the little things that happened on my watch. But let's begin the Beguine.

My grandparents lived in apartments my father had built for them in the basement (like Chinese people, 3 generations, one roof!). My grandfather would work late at Walgreens and come home after 10pm pretty often. Well, my dad fell asleep watching TV and awoke to hear/see what he thought was Granddad coming in from work. Helloing him, he got no reply, so he walked back to the kitchen to ask my mother about it. She pointed at the clock and indicated her father had been home almost an hour, and had entered through their door in the back, and not our front door. hmmm, "than who was that guy I just saw walk through the house?" First odd.

My grandparents began to complain about noise late at night coming from the living room above their apartment like furniture being dragged around. This was after everyone had gone to bed.

Alright, I did say I would talk about personal experiences. How about waking up to heavy breathing in your dark bedroom? I was a rational young man, all of 12 by this time. So I got out of bed to locate the source. Standing in the middle of the room, I could hear it in the corner. Creeping over to that corner, it faded and started up in the opposite corner. Repeatedly. Finally, back to bed, laying still, the bed would begin to shake, like those 25 cent magic fingers they had in cheap motels(?!). That happened so much I use to call it my free "magic fingers" and talk about all the quarters I was saving.

As you can tell, I never felt threatened, it didn't seem like evil was going on, just restless entities or something. Most of the time I was laughing. Especially when it effected my friends. They would be freaking out and I would be laughing at their reaction to things. Here's a good one:

Part of the basement was a large laundry room, and regularly my granny would be in there doing wash in the afternoon. Well, my friend Howie and I were coming down the steps to that room when we heard clearly a sound that he thought was the radio. It could have been Nancy Sinatra's follow up hit to "Boots" but it wasn't the guitar lick for "How Does That Grab You Darlin'", it wasn't anything at all. We got to the bottom of the stairs it was closed up, pitch black. Howie turned to me and asked "where's your grandmother?". I replied "In Mississippi for 2 weeks". He asked "where is the radio that made that sound?" "Do you see a radio?"
Realizing what he took for a guitar lick was a loud sigh, Howie bolted out the door for home without looking back.
After leaving Chicago for many years, I took my wife to see where I had grown up, worked, schooled, etc. This was 1983. We got to Parkside and found the block had been leveled flat. Everything was torn down and halled away. Except. You guessed it 215 stood out spared from destruction. Wait, one more thing.

In 2010 my son visited the windy city, went to my old neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to where I grew up (didn't in 1984). All new neighborhood, but one thing remained the same: 215 Parkside continues to stand.

Cusack's Law of Communication Levels

Highest:
Face to face, speaking in normal tones, making eye contact.

Next Highest:
Telephone, prefer land lines.

One down:
mail via snail (USPS or Fed Ex)

Lower still:
Email

Bottom of the communication barrel:
texting

What's That Sound?

I have always thought of long term marriage like a tall tree. Funny, I never thought of new ones like a sapling, but that works too. The comparison comes to mind when you hear of one ending... it's like a large tree just went over, and whatever the reason, there has to be some sadness.

I recently found out about a divorce in my family, we thought of the long partnership as strong and solid. After losing track of them for about a year, then getting back in touch, it appears a great deal of muddy water 'done past under that bridge. In fact, their whole family is in shambles.

The grief around that is, family is the thing you want to protect, not risk. The things we do (or don't do) effect people close to you for generations.

Sorry about that.

Having experience with Mid-Age Crazy (and thus knowledge of what it can do), I hold no judgement on anyone. Just sadness.