Jeff Beck, "Because We've Ended As Lovers" (actually a Stevie Wonder tune, natch)
As an aspiring 17 year-old guitarist I was much more interested in trying to emulate speed and bravado masters like Hendrix and Page. Beck was, of course, a step ahead of everybody, bringing in jazz influences and a superbly unique technique mixing expression and vibrato.
Too soon, too soon.
"Everything was new and grand, even the things that did not work, and that made up a little for daddy not being with us. Mama said that daddy was supposed to finish up the crop year and that Uncle Alton would manage to look after her things. Uncle Alton remains the most beautifully stoic and courageous man I've ever known. He inevitably found the time and the wherewithal to do whatever was asked of him. Years later, when mama got bone cancer and had to stay in bed a year in a full body cast, Uncle Alton took me in with his houseful of children, keeping me and loving me as one of his own.
Shortly after we were in the house, mama gave us one of her terse, elliptical explanations of how things were.
'Me and your daddy's separated,' she said.
'Separated?' I said.
'Yes,' she said.
'Separated from what?' I said.
'Each other,' she said.
Well, hell, I knew they were separated from each other. Hadn't I just been on a bus for three hours? It would be awhile before I understood she was talking about more than distance."
-- Harry Crews, A Childhood: The Biography of a Place
Mount Baker, Washington
I drove up to Baker today, for the first time in about 10 years or so. That might sound weird, but it's a bit of a haul and even with clear-ish weather you've got plenty of icy patches up and down the mountain. Last time I was up here was with my Dad. It was cold and snowy of course, and completely packed, and I was actually worried I wouldn't find a parking spot. It's prime season for skiers and boarders and snow-shoes. Me, I just walked around a bit and smiled at the people and good dogs.
Happy New Year!
Silver Jews, "Buckingham Rabbit"
I just got back from Baltimore, where I spent a week with my sister, my nephew, and my Dad who is now in a nursing home. I've got more to say, and pictures to show, but things went well despite having one of my flights cancelled. Me and my two furry knuckle-heads want to wish you a glorious 2023, wherever you are, wherever you find yourself, fortunate or unfortunate circumstances be damned.
It's the Year of the Rabbit. Let's not get caught.
"Enjoy Yourself," The Specials live
I thought I might choose a more overtly political song for this like "Gangsters" or "Concrete Jungle," but nah, let's keep it as simple as possible -- it's later than ya think.
Terry Hall of The Specials is dead at 63. All that positive energy channeled through music, it's still out there somewhere if we can grab it.
Chingu Cat: "Please fill wet food bowl."
— "Give Me Ammunition, Not a Ride" James (@wetcasements) December 18, 2022
Me: "You just ate."
Chingu: "But possible earthquake today, you don't come home."
Me: "No."
Chingu: "Possible Zombie Apocalypse, please fill."
Me: "Unlikely."
Chingu: "Locust plague. Wild fire."
Me: "No. No."
Chingu: "I'M GOING TO STARVE!"
Very technically speaking, this area is the tippy-toppy Northwestern part of the continental U.S. And it wasn't raining! And there's what's supposed to be a good place for raw oysters not far from here, but couldn't make it this day.
Chingu (tuxedo) and Mandu (cream with brown spots) taking a much needed rest after knocking something else over.
I've been working at the local Humane Society for over a year now, but I was one of the only people there who didn't have any pets. Living with my Dad it would have been too much for him -- I was convinced that during one of his 3 a.m. ramblings to nowhere he might have kicked a dog or cat, or simply just opened the front door and let them out to play with the hungry local foxes and coyotes.
Anyhow, we've moved my Dad into professional care and not long after that I adopted these two knuckle-heads (technically I'm fostering until they're fixed, then will formally adopt). The tuxedo is Chingu, a boy. His name in Korean is "friend." I didn't stop there, so his sister (not biological, but I'd challenge anyone to tell the difference) is Mandu, or "dumpling."
I've hesitated to say more about these two gorgeous creatures for a simple reason. Chingu was going to get put down due to some health issues. As horrible as that sounds, it's just a fact that in an Animal Shelter setting issues of "adoptability" and ease of re-homing are always present.
It's been about a month now and while I don't want to jinx anything, Chingu is improving. He's objectively doing better and growing all on his own. He had issues with his bowels. This might mean he'll later have the very common cat issue of bad kidneys. But for now he's lively and playful and makes me smile even when I'm scolding him for trying to light the house on fire.
And let's not give short shrift to Mandu -- she's also growing, has a beautiful coat and eyes, and will purr on first or second brush of a human hand. She's actually more shy than Chingu, even though as far as we can tell she's always been perfectly healthy.
I love these two, and in a few months we'll be driving across the country together once my Dad's house is ready for resale.
Chingu Cat: "I am getting in shower with you."
— "Give Me Ammunition, Not a Ride" James (@wetcasements) December 11, 2022
Me: "Why? You hate water."
Chingu Cat: "Here I come."
Me: /splashes some water at Chingu Cat
Chingu Cat: "IT BURNS! IT BURNS! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"
/end scene
Whatcom Falls Park, Bellingham.
My Dad moved out here while I was in college back in 1994. As I spend my last few months here before headed back east I'm enjoying visits to spots that my Dad took me to almost 30 years ago. For any and all complaining I've done about life here, the city has done a pretty amazing job of integrating parks into the city landscape. There's no excuse to not get your 10,000 daily steps here because you can throw a rock and find a decent walking trail.
As my Dad got into his late 70's and 80's, understandably, we did a lot less hiking, a lot less "stuff" in general. So it's refreshing, maybe even a bit liberating, to get out and enjoy the cold and damp weather by myself, as only Bellingham can provide this time of year.
And my Dad's fine by the way. But at 93, and given some very scary moments involving his diagnosed dementia, we've moved him into a home.
I think France wins it all. They're certainly the most fun to watch, although Ronaldo-less Portugal playing better than they have in years was hilarious in its own right.
