There Is A Young Cowboy

Is there a romantic male worth his salt who does not get all wistful when hearing the first verse of “Sweet Baby James”?

One day, I’m going to see the stars in a wide open sky, unfiltered by suburban lights.  I’m going to play guitar by campfire on a nippy autumn night, thinking about women and glasses of beer.

I know, I know.  The idealised version is never as good as the real thing.  In real life, our romantic notions are messier, smellier, harder.  But,thinking and dreaming about them is part of the stuff of life, no? 

So, I’ll let the vision in my head sing me to sleep.  Goodnight, all you moonlight ladies.

The Real Talent Of The Family

I was searching for some mp3s that I remember someone ripped from a CD produced by the band that me, Ford, and my brother Scott used to be in. I wanted to give nm a good idea of how I go nuts with production in the studio.

Well, I couldn’t find them (paging Ford - where are they?). But, while searching around, I discovered that my brother has some new music out.

Scott is a virtuoso guitarist - in the style of Steve Vai or Joe Satriani. He’s been known to cut some blues as well. Give a listen:

Scott’s Music Page

Unlike many in his genre, he knows how to play in a major key. Very well. Pay close attention to the track “Dance of the Delighted Dolphins“. The arpeggiation is 3-part harmony, the lead is many times 2 or 3 part. Like me, he likes to heavily produce.

He has more talent in his little finger than I will ever have. And he records all of this from the comfines of a custom-made recliner in my parents’ living room. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to hold up the guitar.

The only two tracks I played with him were “The Lonely“, and “Strange Sammi Strut” (in that one I added the silliest sounding horn tracks ever. I recorded a trumpet, sax, and trombone separately to make them sound more realistic).

You will notice on “Crippled Boy Blues” and “Strange Sammi Strut”, he channels Billy Gibbons.

If you listen to no other track, check out “Polyphony Overload“.

For slick production check out “The thrill of the chase“. He recorded that with a friend of his,long distance. There’s even a (strange) duet he did with a didjeridu player.

I haven’t heard his stuff in a while. He is such an awesome talent, I’m just proud to say I’m his brother.

The One In Rhode Island

I’m thinking about starting a series of posts defending things that are popular in the real world, yet unpopular in the world of personal blogs.  I swear, there seems to be an incredible peer pressure amongst bloggers to present ourselves as mysterious, tortured geniuses.  I don’t know how else to explain the automatic hatred of anything embraced by the masses (WalMart, Olive Garden), or anything “bubbly”, like Rachel Ray, Kathy Lee Gifford, or Barney.

If you are reading this, I’ve most likely met you in person.  Trust me, you are not the dark, snarky person you present yourself as on your blog.  That’s why I say, it’s peer pressure that causes us to act this way.

When I do get around to defending Olive Garden, I figure there will be a move afoot to bring back crucifixion. 

But for now, I’m going to turn my attention to the Eagles’ 1976 album Hotel California.  It came up on my iPod the other day, and I had to think, “Why do people hate this album so?”.  There are a few legitimate reasons, I think.  Mostly, it was the world’s first glimpse of Don Henley’s insufferable preachiness.  But, even that, in context, was pretty darned good.

This was the first album without founding member Bernie Leadon, and with Joe Walsh.  Some might say that was subtraction by addition (Walsh’s voice annoys me, too), but I think the addition of Walsh helped make the Eagles into a first rate pop-rock band.  Did you know he played organ and electric piano on New Kid In Town?  He filled in organ and synth on many of the tracks.

And, although I consider Don Felder a better guitarist than Walsh, I think together they were dynamic.  The title track really highlights the two of them.  Even with Henley’s bad-poetry lyrics, the song rocks.  I have a soft spot for it because it’s the first song I ever learned to play in B minor.

New Kid in Town has that JD Souther feel to it (co written with Frey and Henley).  It had that particular Eagles style of using a wall of vocal “ahs” as strings.  This was popular at the time; for instance, most of Elton John’s recordings of the time had this same style (”Don’t Let The Sun Go Down on Me”).  It also has that achiness of unrequited love that had worked so well in Tequilla Sunrise.

Life In the Fast Lane rocks, to this day.  It’s got a CLAV part, for cryin’ out loud!  Joe Walsh’s opening riff is easily one of the most recognizable ever recorded (behind Sweet Home Alabama) .  The lyrics are top-notch, and paint a pretty stark picture of life in SoCal in the 70’s.

Wasted Time - oh, how do I love this song?  Sometimes, Henley can turn a phrase better than anyone: 

I could have done so many things, baby
If I could only stop my mind
From wondering what I left behind
And from worryin’ bout this wasted time

Combined with that torch-song melody, it’s heart wrenching. And I love a good heart wrenching.

Victim of Love was one of the few times Henley bothered to play rock drums.  The opening, with halted symbol crashes, is probably the most rockin’ thing the Eagles ever recorded.  And I just love the line “I heard about you and that man”.  I don’t know why, it just makes me happy.

Pretty Maids All in A Row -I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think it’s one of the prettiest songs ever recorded.  Yes, Walsh’s voice is grating, but the melody (probably penned by co-writer Joe Vitale) is just beautiful.  The contrast between the verses and the middle and the chorus is perfect - just the right amount of flats to inject a sweet sadness.   The crescendo is unexpected, and beautiful.  I absolutely love this song.

Try and Love Again was Randy Meisner’s last stand.  Of all the former Eagles, he’s my favorite.  Take It To The Limit is still better, but this one is quite nice as well.

The Last Resort - OK, you either love this one or hate it.  Yes, it’s classic Henley preaching.  Yes, it’s dime store environmentalism, combined with an appalling lack of knowledge of native Americans and how their management of the land was intrusive, not passive.  Yes, it’s 7 and a half minutes long.

But, oh, that opening!  Soft piano, followed by the lyrics

She came from Providence
The one in Rhode Island
Where the Old World shadows hang heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
Like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea.

I know it’s easy to hate Henley, but that’s good writing.  The song is filled with poetic flourish throughout.  I really love this line:

They called it Paradise,  The place to be.
They watched the hazy sun sinking in the sea.

I know it sounds hokey, but in context (the song tells a story), it’s beautiful.  Just beautiful.

When my kids want to know about the mid 70’s though pop culture, I’ll show them Rocky, a few episodes of Emergency, and have them listen to Hotel California.

What’s not to love?

Chills At 4:30 To Go In The 3rd

I don’t care if you’re not a hockey fan.  You couldn’t watch the last 5:00 of last night’s Predators game without feeling an overwhelming pride, and maybe getting just a little tear in your eye.  The NHL has released the in-arena video from a spontaneous standing ovation given by the fans for the players during a TV timeout.  This wasn’t some contrived noise accompanied by music.   It was 17,000 Nashvillians spontaneously showing their appreciation for one of the scappiest sports teams ever assembled:

Click here to play video. (WordPress won’t let me embed, dang it).

It’s really hard to explain just what this team has accomplished.  I’ve been watching sports for well over 30 years, and I’ve never seen a team whose roster was gutted as much as the Predators even make .500 the following season, much less make the playoffs.  They are this town’s Gashouse Gang.  They are the embodiment of the movie “Major League”, complete with the threat of moving the team.

Despite all their troubles, the Preds scrapped their way into the 8th and final playoff spot last night (there is a slight chance they could even move up to 7th).  They will most likely play the Red Wings - who they actually have a pretty good record against this year.

This spontaneous noise you see in the video is a collective “Wow!” to the coaches and players, and a collective “Screw You!” to Jim Balsillie.

Watch the video.  Then, watch it again.  I only wish I had been there.

Snow

I know others snicker at our reaction to snow in middle Tennessee - I do not care.  This is magic, every minute to be savored. 

Snow of any measurable amount, around here, is fleeting and rare.  For places north and west, by this time of year there is a snow-weariness; a been-there-done-that kind of attitude.  To be honest, I wouldn’t blame a northerner for feeling that way.

More after the jump

How About A Cheap Trip To Spain?

Later in the year, maybe the fall when Lintilla has some time built up, we might seriously consider this program.

From a Kiplinger’s article  about it:

I never thought my foreign-language deficiency could be an asset. Not speaking Spanish helped me and my wife, Alice, land a free week at a four-star resort in western Spain. All we had to do was talk — in English.

Madrid is headquarters for two companies that recruit English speakers to help improve the conversational English skills of Spaniards, most of whom are employees of multinational corporations. These are English-immersion programs, so the companies prefer that the instructors not know Spanish. English speakers aren’t paid, and we had to pay for our airfare.

A four-star resort in Spain, for talking?  Where do I sign up?  With the dollar at incredible lows against the euro, any trip to Europe would be out of the question, otherwise.

AND, once you’ve “graduated” from this program, you can sign up to go to Italy (which is where we really want to go).

Yes, you have to work to earn your keep, but that work is talking.  Something Lintilla and I do entirely too much, naturally.

Squeals Of Delight

Trillian decided to have a sleepover/slumber party/whatever-they-call-it-these-days tonight, to celebrate her birthday, which is this Sunday.  Our youngest is going to be 10.  Damn.

She bought her first CD that she chose herself, with no input from either parent.  Hannah Montana 2, of course.  But, SHE came to me, plopped the money on my desk, and asked me to order it for her.  She is developing her own tastes, making decisions on her own, paying for things with money she earned.  This is happening way too fast for me.

But back to today.  Annie is here, along with many of Trillian’s other classmates (but not all - another choice she has started making).  They are on the trampoline, and I can hear squeals of delight through the window.  Don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on them.  They are also practicing some routine they are working on for the school talent show (Hannah Montana, again).

I love their energy, love for life, and general excitedness.  Yes, its noisy here, but I wouldn’t trade this for the world.  Yes, Trillian is growing up too fast.  But, although I adored her as a baby, cherished her as a toddler, loved her as a preschooler, I can tell you that she is a pure delight at this age.  Sure, things are about to change, but every age that children reach brings different joys and challenges.

So, I’ll just get some earplugs and enjoy the ride.

It’s Like A Little Hug

Conversation yesterday:

Lintilla: “So, I’m headed to the oncologist.  He’s going to have me set up an appointment with Dr [xxxx] (her OB-Gyn).  I’ve got a list of questions to ask her.”

Me: “Good.  We need to make sure we’re doing everything right.”

Her: “I was going to ask her…when we can…”

“What?  Mow the lawn?  Go on a trip?”

“No.  You know…”

“Oh.  That.  Well, I wasn’t going to ask, because I don’t want to come off as an insensitive jerk after all you’ve been through.”

[After a few seconds of silence].  “I wasn’t asking for you.”

…

Sometimes, I love her so much I can’t see straight.

Merry Christmas To All From Shoot The Moose!

I pray that each and every one of you receives joy and peace.

You know, I’ve always swore I’d never become one of ”those people”, the ones who, when asked what they want for Christmas, reply “I don’t want anything - I’ve got everything I need.”

Well, I’ve become one of those people.

This is a weird Christmas; because of the events of the last month, we’ve been unable to go to any parties, or shop for surprises (we’ve had to be together while we shop this year), or any of the other usual stuff at Christmas that stresses us out. 

And I swear, this Christmas, with minimal (but heartfelt) decorations, and a lot of time spent just at home with one another, appears to be turning out to be one of the best ever.

Lintilla’s prognosis is good; it sounds corny, but how could I want more? Jimmy Stewart once said that Frank Capra made you pay for your happy endings.  Well, had it not been for the end of November and early December, I’d be complaining and stressed out about this crazy Christmas.

Instead, I am filled with a joy that is hard to describe.

Yesterday, at church, we dressed the kids up as much as we could without things coming to blows (Trillian is much more cooperative), and went to “big church”, the traditional service.  The tween kids were to read passages in between verses of “The Friendly Beasts”, which the little kids were singing.  All of them were adorable.

Zaphod came to his podium (our church has the two-podium setup), and read his lines flawlessly.  I was so happy, because he’s balked at doing things like this before, and I was afraid he’s say something crazy or roll his eyes in front of the entire congregation.  But, he gave me a wonderful gift by just showing how articulate he is, and not showing out for his friends.

Later came Trillian’s turn.  She stepped up to her podium, and I swear, at that moment, the sun streamed through the stained glass and bathed the left side of her face. She literally looked angelic.  Her soft, sweet voice read the lines (the hardest of the bunch) beautifully.  I was struck to the point of tears.

As she stepped down and the little kids began singing again, I looked at the cross between the two podiums, and thought to myself:

Thank you.

I am living a life I certainly don’t deserve. and have been given the gift of an even better eternal one.

I want to say that I thank God for each and every one of you.  You really are a gift that few men ever receive. 

Freedom and Justice For All

I took my kids yesterday on a quest to find Webinz charms (they are the must-have, non plush item because they allow the kid to enter a code at the Webkinz site and get more points - this is of utmost importance to the pre-teen mind, apparently).  The place where we finally found them (they are a kind of rare), was a breath of fresh air, and not just because they had Webkinz charms.

We have discovered Justice  (Just For Girls), in Nashville West. 

The place was refreshing for a couple of reasons.  A store that’s not for little kids, not for teens, but specifically for “tween” girls (they say ages 7-14).  You’ll find lots of “BFF” T-Shirts, lots of pink things, shiny things, and (what I am assured are), lots of fashionable clothes.  Hannah Montana, HSM2, and Jonas Brothers play over the sound system.  As I mentioned, there are Webkinz, Claire’s-like accessories, and other novelty items that I don’t understand but are apparently a big deal to that set.  They also had LOTS of those undershirts (I forget the name) girls wear when they need something, but aren’t quite ready for a bra.  Of course, Trillian was mortified that I was excited over the selection.  I AM a weird dad.

What I really loved - what was so refreshing after having fits over department-store tween girl fare, there was not a single midriff-baring outfit to be found.  No pants with “Juicy” written across the behind.  There were no outfits that make a tween girl look like a club-hopping college student.  There was no “BrittneyWear”.  It was stylish, but modest enough to pass the dad test.

And they aren’t too expensive.  I’m telling you, I really loved this place.

 When Lintilla is better, they can shop there all they want.  Trillian just didn’t feel like clothes shopping with her dad.  I don’t really blame her.

Just wanted to give a heads-up to all my friends with tween girls.