Nicely done....

Need I say more?

Memphis IV: The Voyage Home

...where I travel to San Francisco in the past, piloting a stolen Klingon bird-of-prey.  No, wait, that was something else.

This concluding segment of the thrilling "Trip To Memphis" series will be a bit shorter than the others.  Hard as that is to believe.

Because of children on the trip, we really couldn't explore the Memphis nightlife as much as we wanted to.  It was evident, though, that Memphis does indeed boast a vibrant nighttime culture, one steeped in blues music, fine cuisine and southern mystique.

If you go to Memphis, try the ribs.  Anywhere.

We departed and made way to our travel midpoint, Hannibal, Missouri [Americana U.S.A.].  Arriving again at the sleepy town that has seen better days, we visited Mark Twain's Birthplace Museum.

It was interesting to learn how much of his more fabled works, namely Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, had characters and situations drawn directly from his life experiences.  I should probably read those one of these years.  We even saw the legendary white picket fence [close up of one slat below].

signed by Reggie's pal

After another night of sleep at the hotel mentioned in part one of this series [TalibInn Express], we split for home in Minnesota.

Returning home, I was met with glorious fanfare by Rudy.

"You were gone?  I thought you were in the crapper"

A special note.  I would like to offer a special thanks to my friend D. for making this trip happen.  It was all his planning and impetus.  And driving.

Thank you.

Memphis, Day 3 [Morning @ Graceland]

Early in the morning I made my second trip to Graceland, arriving before the daily throng [and before Graceland was open for tours] for a serene pilgrimage to "the" grave site.

some knucklehead @ Graceland

That's pretty damn cool.  It was also nice to be there among only a dozen or so people.  Awe-inspiring, reflective, eerie...all those words and more.  In truth, I'm struggling to find words adequate to describe just how unique the experience really is.

Also from the morning visit, Graceland strikes a quiet pose.  At this point, had I not gone on the official tour, I still would have been satisfied.  Of course, that's not how it happened.

A few hours passed  and I did indeed return for the tour.  After all, who goes to Memphis and doesn't?  


The biggest disappointment about the Graceland tour is that you are unable to go up on the second floor, Elvis' floor.  Understandable, but still disappointing.  Despite that, Graceland remains amazing as a home, a one time Fortress Of Solitude and an American landmark.

Here's the highlight package.

The "Jungle Room," where Elvis recorded his final two albums. In my house, the decor would look tacky.  In his, it's vintage 70's retro-chic funky.

Double entendre?

The most ridiculous suit ever.  Yet somehow he pulled it off.

The bad-ass, bitchin' black leathers EP wore for his televised 1968 "Comeback" Special.

His wedding outfit.  Just kidding.

I guess he sold some records, too.

Elvis sat at this piano the night before he died, singing "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain."  Oh to have been a fly upon the wall.

The white suit worn by EP, also on his '68 Comeback Special.  A great moment: my friends' young daughter had ducked under the security barrier and was inches away from the glass case that held this suit.

Suddenly over the PA system we hear in a no-nonsense voice, "please step away from the white suit."  You can't make that up.

There were other goodies too.  Elvis' autos.  His private jet.  His other private jet.  Tales abound of his generosity.  Unfortunately, his generosity was part of his undoing as he was surrounded by an army of sycophants and yes-men, none of whom had the temerity to suggest his life was getting away from him.

Elvis' Graceland in Memphis is amazing.  If you are a fan of 50's rock and roll, a cultural observer or just a curiosity chaser, there is something here for you.  Highly recommended.

Coming soon:  the final chapter of the Memphis Trip In Review!

The Googly-Eyed Gang??

http://www.startribune.com/local/stpaul/113824544.html?elr=KArksLckD8EQDUoaEyqyP4O:DW3ckUiD3aPc:_Yyc:aUvckD8EQDUX

Take a look at these cross-eyed, googly-eyed shitbags whose mugshots appear in this article and below.  They assaulted some autistic kid.

I can think of no better public service than to mock these three disgusting shitbags for being criminal disgusting shitbags.

SHITBAG #1

Anthony Ramos: googly-eyed MF [nice haircut too]

SHITBAG #2

Tiffany Clock: nice googly-eyes and Moe haircut

SHITBAG #3

Trenton Johnson: crosseyed MF

What an attractive trio.  Society obviously won't do the right thing, which would be to shoot all of you in the head at close range and leave you on the curb for garbage pickup.

Alternate option.  I'd let someone hit each of you in the head with a brick until they get tired of swinging.

Since the above two options aren't likely, can you help us out a bit?  Take your lives, you shitbag losers!  Do it now!  Jump!  Clearly NONE of you should be allowed to pass your genes.

And to believe that it's a crime to run you low IQ crosseyed freak shitbags over.  I hope that in a fit of inspiration ['cause you're all obviously deep thinkers] you Google [pun intended] your names and see that I'm ripping you just for being so damn ugly.  And googly-eyed.

Hey Trenton...is that your Peter Falk impression?

Hey Tiffany...where's Larry and Curly?  Moe references may be too kind for you.  For what it's worth, it looks like you cut your hair with a weed wacker.

Hey Anthony...nice hair. It looks like you have a vagina on your head.  Let me guess: no girlfriend?

I absolutely hate looking at my newspaper and having to learn that assholes like this exist.




P.S. Since we're having so much fun here: call the cops!  I found the ringleader.

"I'm the leader of the googly-eye gang"

"Bookends"

This is another post I prepared for the fine blog [and-your-bird-can-swing].  Please check it out.

1968's Bookends

Bookends, released by Simon & Garfunkel in 1968, is the album where they shed the "folk duo" label, not only in sound, but in content.  It's an odd album, challenging and frustrating, but blessed with amazing highs.  Only In hindsight does it appear as a logical progression between their earlier folk music and the more polished craftsmanship of Bridge Over Troubled Water.

The iconic black and white cover photograph suits the somber material on the first side perfectly, where reflections on aging and mortality are well represented by the “Bookends Theme,” [which appropriately enough bookends the side], “Overs” and “Old Friends.”  The joker in the pack is called “Voices Of Old People,” which describes exactly what it is: voices of old people.  Using a slice of audio verite served them well on their previous album, 1966’s Parsley, Sage, Rosemary And Thyme.  In that instance, a news report juxtaposed perfectly with their angelic rendition of “Silent Night.”  It stands more jarring here, lacking the subtlety of Simon’s ruminations on aging; perhaps Art Garfunkel just needed a writing credit.

The highlight of side one, and indeed one of the highlights of their entire catalogue, is the classic “America.”  Simon’s literary-quality attention to detail sets up the songs penultimate line perfectly: “I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why.”  It’s a great line and one that can be taken different ways.  From a first-person perspective it perfectly represents the listlessness felt in early adulthood while searching for a niche in life.  From a larger perspective, it seems a subtle, heaving sigh [again with the subtle: Paul’s best work seldom hit with the force of a hammer], commenting on the state of post-Summer Of Love America, the ensuing acid hangover and the realization that in fact we did need more than “love.”  If “America” were the only song on this album it would still be a wise purchase.

Side two I’m a bit conflicted on, mostly because the epic “Mrs. Robinson” had already appeared on the soundtrack to The Graduate three months prior.  In fact, three other songs from this LP were written with said soundtrack in mind but ultimately were rejected.  Those songs all share the general feeling of side one, but I always have a hard time divorcing myself from the knowledge that they were meant for another project.  Despite that, it all seems to cohere.

“Fakin’ It” continues the theme of psychic exhaustion, of living in a place but not inhabiting its’ reality. There’s not much to say about “Mrs. Robinson;” everybody certainly knows the song by now and it’s still great.  As someone who was in high school in the late 80’s, I’m embarrassed to admit that when I first heard the Bangles’ “Hazy Shade Of Winter,” I had yet to discover that it was actually by S&G.  The original may lack the Bangles wattage, but it clearly is the definitive reading.  The album closes with “At The Zoo,” Simon’s jaunty attempt to place the confusing world around him in some identifiable Orwellian context.

 

Start to finish, Bookends is a fun listen.  It’s not their best and it strains at times, but it remains a great snapshot of 1968 America.  The remastered CD now includes the B-side “You Don’t Know Where Your Interest Lies” and a demo of “Bookends.”  Both are pleasant but non-essential additions to the canon.

"City To City" and "Night Owl"

1978's City To City

1979's Night Owl

Below is a summary of two albums by the recently departed Gerry Rafferty.  It was written to accompany their posting on a blog I enjoy, and-your-bird-can-swing. 

“Baker Street” is the highlight of 1978’s City To City, Gerry Rafferty’s first solo album after leaving Stealers Wheel, and second overall.   And it should be.  It’s a late 70’s pop classic that everybody knows, if not by title, then for the clarion sax riff that colors the song, sounding both cathartic and doleful.

Both City To City and its’ follow-up, 1979’s Night Owl, boast a lot of similar, yet positive traits.  Rafferty offers songs that are melodically rich, if generally mid-tempo, and sung in his low-key manner as part of the overall mix, not the featured instrument.   That approach works to his benefit despite having lyrics worthy of paying attention to.  The shorthand assessment of his lyrics: news reports saying he suffered from depression are no surprise.

This music won’t grab you instantaneously, like the first time you heard [insert whatever recording has always stood out to you], but rather insinuates itself after repeated listening.  The tracks are well-played and expertly arranged; nothing real flashy, but all very competent.

Of the two, City To City is clearly the better with “Baker Street” and “Right Down The Line” being catchier than anything else on either album.  The rest of the albums probably suffer a bit from being too similar.  Despite that, the tracks are still good.

These CD’s aren’t essential, but they do provide a clear portrait of a talented and bummed out artist, and as such, are definitely worth having.  These CD’s also won’t liven up your party: but if you like your highs [puff, puff] mixed with lows [melancholy], there’s probably something in here for you.

RIP Gerry Rafferty

Mostly forgotten, Gerry Rafferty passed away on January 4, 2011.  I still remember playing "Baker Street" and "Right Down The Line" 45's twenty-five years ago at my small-town radio station job.  Even then they were considered "oldies."

Unfortunately, his big hit with Stealers Wheel, "Stuck In The Middle With You," is now mostly remembered for being the accompaniment to Michael Madsen cutting off the cops' ear in Reservoir Dogs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerry_Rafferty