Give The Cameraman Some
This cat can shoot...
His name is Josh Mintz and he hit me up this afternoon, saying he had some pics from our show at Minglewood Hall the other night. I was delighted to see them cause I love his work...in addition to that, he's also managing editor of one of my favorite online mags, Honest Tune. Go to it, read it and enjoy.
Killer Session
The City Champs were invited to participate in the filming of a music documentary that some people are producing and we happily obliged, but little did we know that two of the folks we'd be in session with were the heaviest of the heavies...the great bassist, David Hood from the world renowned Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section and blues harmonica man, Charlie Musselwhite. This was a special day for us and the vibe was definitely a good one between us.
Change... Is It Truly Possible?
They say our personalities are molded when we're infants and that we're already shaped by the time we reach puberty. Which means, in my case, that I became this lazy, arrogant, selfish, egotistical, emotional, asshole when I was a tiny boy and there's just no other way out of it. I am who I am. Wow. So, if this is in fact the gospel, then it makes sense to me because I've been struggling with the same flaws in my character for as long as I can remember and I don't think I've really changed all that much. I know that I want to do things differently and will often get started on something, but somehow can't ever seem to stay focused or motivated long enough to find that finish line. The beginning is usually really strong too, with all the piss and vinegar of a young man, lots of attitude and determination.Shit, I can name 20 different things I've gotten excited about through the years...started on them, then lost interest. It's been going on just about as long as I can remember. If you were to open up my head, get inside my brain and pull out these memories, lay them out on a table, they'd look like a junkyard of old cars up on blocks, each one in various states of completion and disrepair. Yoga, karate, swimming, running, biking, reading, writing, teaching, and so on.I've talked about doing drum clinics, traveling around the country as an instructor, doing group classes with other drummers, my own peers, offering students a chance to see and hear us all play with the same band, each with our own individual personality and approach to the drums. Then giving each student a chance to interact and actually participate with that same group of musicians. How much fun would that be? Even came up with a name for the class...No Boundaries, I called it. I have a notebook with five pages of crap that I wrote down, how I would structure the lessons, the cats that I wanted to be involved and folks that we'd invite to come out and demonstrate. It was gonna be big. At least in my mind. Why can't I get to it and why does it have to be just my words on pieces of paper? I often wonder about my own death and the aftermath...if friends and family will find my stuff and laugh and cry about it all, or is my situation really just normal and are there scores of people just like me dealing with the same frustrations? I don't know, but I'm in a constant state of wonder about it all. Do I have ADD or is that just a bunch of b.s.?Just about the only two things I've ever been able to stick with in my life is playing the drums and quitting smoking, the latter of course being the most difficult of the two. I'll always be a drummer, there's no way around that, but quitting cigarettes was a tremendous struggle and one that I never thought I'd manage, but somehow I did and it's been more than 10 years since I had one. Congratulations, me. I see that as an accomplishment and I'm proud of it, but I wonder why it's so hard to find the motivation for other things in my life, like getting into shape or going back to school to get that degree I always wanted, or starting back on the Polish class that I'd been so good at all those years ago. My teacher once said that my accent was so good, if she didn't know me she'd have mistaken me for a real Polish speaking man. Alas, I didn't stick with it and now I can barely say hello.I had a therapist, a wonderful old lady, tell me one time that I will never be a focused individual and that I should just accept the fact that I am who I am. It hit me hard and I was upset and want so bad to be able to prove her wrong. To call her up one day out of the blue and tell her about all these wonderful things I've started doing and have become good at. How disciplined I am, diligent, hardworking. Jesus, I torture myself about this mess, daily.Not long ago, I ran into a man that I had met once or twice through my dad when I was very young. My memory of this person was that he was very big and extremely overweight, probably obese. It's been more than 20 years since I'd seen this person and I didn't recognize him at all because he looked very thin and healthy, with a big smile. It was amazing. He told me that he'd tried numerous diets, heath plans, exercises, groups, therapy, all of it. His was a classic case and he just couldn't get rid of the weight, until someone recommended he try hypnosis.It worked and in a big way. He told me that his whole life changed right away and he even liked it so much that he went to study it and is now a certified instructor in hypnotherapy out in California. To me, this is inspiring and makes me wonder if something similar would be possible if I were to try it for myself. Maybe I, too can hypnotize my brain and become this person I've always wanted to be. I better hurry though cause I've got a birthday coming up soon and I'm not getting any younger. Look out world, here I come! Or maybe I'll just save that thought for another day.
Scotch
Many a connoisseur will tell you that it starts out as a simple love affair, where you're having a bit of fun, but before long it becomes an obsession that runs out of control until you're hooked. For me right now, it's this wonderful sampling of what my friend called, the poor man's single malt. Black Bottle. Yum.
East Coast & Back
The City Champs sophomore album, The Set-Up was released to the world on November 2nd and our label wanted us on the road. Unfortunately, with the timing being as tight as it was, the booking agent wasn't able to totally put together what we'd originally planned on, so what was supposed to be a two-week long tour, ended up being only 5 days, but we made the best of it and motored ahead. Gassed-up the van, we headed North.First stop, Newark, Delaware at a quaint little club called Mojo Main and although everyone was pretty friendly to us (once they let their guard down), we probably should have been playing a different venue. In short, it was a Ska bar. Yes, that's what I said, so enough about that. But we played well and even sold one record and I was overjoyed at that.
After the set, we loaded out and had to wait for a couple of hours to get paid, which was a drag, but we met some nice folks and had a few drinks and all was right with the world. Once we had our dough, we headed back to the hotel and noticed on the way that the streets were full of people partying their asses off and we passed by several clubs that seemed way more like the types of places we needed to be playing up there. So, there you have it. Lesson learned.Philly and the North Star Bar. Great venue, but a bit of a strange night. We were thrown onto the bill at the very last minute and it didn't seem like anyone was happy about it, especially the Headhunters, who were headlining alongside another group from NYC called, The Mumbles. One of my drumming heroes and drummer with the Headhunters for many years, Mike Clark is a really sweet man and someone I've had the pleasure of knowing for quite some time. It was amazing to see him play again. What a killin feel he has.We only played a 30-min set cause that's all the time that they had for us, but we did our thing, rocked our butts off and made it back to our wonderful Howard Johnson hotel in record time. Oh yeah, almost forgot...the highlight of the day, big fat cheese steak sandwich from Jim's on South Street. It was so worth the hour-long wait that I forgot to take pics of my food, but there's a million of them already on the web, so check 'em out. Freakin d'lish.
My old buddy from San Diego, Devon E. Levins, who now lives in New York hosts an internet radio show called Morricone Youth on East Village Radio and had previously worked it out to have us on his show. We were very excited because the show is geared toward film music and The Set-Up has such a strong thematic nature to it. Perfect! It's a good thing we got on the road early because we'd totally forgotten that the New York Marathon was happening that day, so the traffic coming into the city was a bitch and we had to be on the radio by 2pm. Timing was everything and there wasn't much of a window for dawdling.
Fortunately, we made it and everything worked out great and even had time to sit at a fantastic coffee shop called, The Bean and enjoy a hot beverage. I chose the Dirty Chai, which was Chai tea and a shot of espresso. Damn Good. EVR is located in a tiny glass storefront, right on a busy 1st Ave, with gorgeous models walking up and down the street, which was driving me crazy all day. I must have fallen in love three or four times that afternoon. It was nuts and we had a blast. Thanks to Devon for having us on the show, for playing so much of our music, and to our esteemed guitarist, Joe Restivo for putting together such an awesome playlist of soundtrack tunes. You can stream the entire Nov 7th segment here.
That evening we did our show at the Rose in Brooklyn, which is a great little venue and everyone there was really cool... And speaking of, many thanks go out to Devon, John Castro, Brian Seeger and Scott Bourgeois for making the trek out to see the show and to our good friend Carter Mclean for being so kind as to put us up in your home for the evening. You're a gentleman and a scholar. The next morning was colder'n hell and it actually started to hail, so after bagels & coffee from Murray's, we shagged ass outta town, headed to Williamsport, PA and to the fabulous Bullfrog Brewery. This is a great little town and the venue is pretty much the centerpiece of their live music scene. There's no stage, but the warm friendly environment made us feel quite at home. The food is great and the beer they brew is fantastic. We were sitting enjoying our lunch when Joe announces that he'd just received an email from our publicist telling us that the album had been reviewed in the Commercial Appeal, our local Memphis newspaper. It was the first really good review and we were elated. What a day we were having. That is, until I looked up from my sandwich at lunch and saw our van getting towed down the street. Yikes! I guess we'd been parked in a private lot, which was owned by some douche-y high-powered lawyer who doesn't take kindly to people parking in the spots that he pays for. We sprinted out the door, the three of us, chasing our Sherrod down the street for fifteen blocks, only to find a $125.00 tow charge at the end of our journey, but the fine folks at the Bullfrog (Steve & Jody) were on our side and had dealt with this before. They took care of the bill and we were thrilled. Later, we had a stellar show and sold a few copies of the album to some very nice folks. Thanks, y'all.Next day, we had a two-hr trip down to Harrisburg and played a venue called the Abbey Pub. Nothing to speak of really cause there were four people that showed up to see us and that was probably an accident, but we had one of the best musical nights as a band and it was a fantastic top-off to the trip. All in all, good times were had, lots of great food, numerous stops at Dunkin Donuts (they rule the Northeast) and only one traffic ticket (thank you hard-to-understand parking sign in Philly...curse you!) 1000 miles and 15 hrs later, home sweet home. I highly recommend anyone reading to take a couple of days off, get in your car and drive somewhere in this country because it's absolutely beautiful.I love my job.
Is it too much to ask...
...for breakfast at noon, or a really good 24-hr diner, or for Sugar In The Raw, for an iced coffee in the Summertime, for some attention when I walk into a restaurant or cafe, a waiter or waitress with half a brain, or steak sauce for my t-bone that I ordered off your menu and a smile rather than a scowl when I ask for it, a bloody Mary that actually has some vodka in it instead of 4 ounces of Sriracha "to give it that extra spice", for pedestrians that don't walk in the middle of a busy 6-lane avenue causing me to slam on my brakes in panic and nearly crashing with the cars in front of me, or for police officers that don't run red lights, a city whose citizens care about the arts and culture who don't look at me with disdain and bewilderment as I bring my drum set into the bar where I am scheduled to perform and they are casually enjoying a drink with friends (as if I was put there to completely disrupt their idyllic lives), or musicians who actually have respect for one another and don't jump up on stage in the middle of my performance like some crazed opportunistic mad man jonesing for a chance to show off their weak ass skills (there's a reason you got into this position in the first place, jerk-off...hint: you can't fucking play!), for a venue that pays for their own sound and door person instead of "taking it off the top" making the bands suffer even further in a troubling economy, or a real entrepreneur with vision that thinks of building a stage in his/or her venue and then adds it to the blueprints before construction begins, not as an afterthought a month after the grand opening, leaving us musicians no other choice but to set up an entire band on the floor where any drunk patron can easily walk up during a performance and fuck with us, "Hey, y'all play some Skynyrd!", for a venue to employ adequate security guards and bouncers who are alert and have a performer's back when the crazy drunk lady gets out of hand and starts throwing silverware at the band from an upstairs balcony, for a manager who would find behavior like this appalling and forever ban said patron from ever returning, rather than giving her a smile and telling her, "Go on home now sweetheart and sleep it off and we'll see you soon", or for people to stop using phrases like, "It's just a Memphis thing"... is that too much to ask from my city?I'm not angry. A little spoiled perhaps, but not angry. I just wanna know.
Halloween and Laziness
Why is it that every time October 31st rolls around, I can never muster the strength to get my lazy ass off the couch to put a costume together and go out for the holiday? My friends have long ago stopped calling to invite me to parties cause they know I won't be there and if I did show up, I'd be dressed as usual, jeans and a t-shirt, or something boring like that. All the while giving the excuse that I was too busy to make a costume. Bullshit. I'm lazy and that's all there is to it. The last couple of times I've dressed up, I had a blast, but I had a girlfriend and that made it all the more fun. This year, I'm staying home. Again.
Road Trip
The City Champs hit the road this past weekend, played three shows and traveled a good 1,200 miles from Memphis to Atlanta to Asheville to Nashville, then back home. Lots of time behind the wheel, but we saw some beautiful countryside along the way and had a pretty good time all around. Many thanks to our many friends and fans who came out in support and my good buddy John Paul for renting us his wonderful red Dodge van he named Vince, as in Van-Go!
Opening And Closing Doors
I'm not sure what it was exactly, but something came over me a couple of days ago in regards to this place, my city, that made me feel different inside...deep down. Almost like a voice said, "Everything is gonna be okay" and I was instantly relieved. I had just been to see my ex-girlfriend, Sara, whom I'd spent five years with and was engaged to, but broken up with not more than a year ago. I was there to drop off some music to her and she informed me that she was now seeing someone. Well at first, there was this pain and then grief, but it soon changed to happiness, as I suddenly realized she had in fact moved-on and was living her life. For me, it was the closure that I needed so badly because I had been holding on to this thought in my head that maybe, just maybe one day soon, we would be able to see one another again and work through our differences. That this year apart from one another was all the time we needed to realize there was still something between us, that the bond was still strong. Sadly it wasn't, it's really over and I was glad to have finally reached a place in my heart where I felt good about that. The feeling washed over me.Strange, too because for several months I've been fighting this urge to wanna pack up and shag ass outta here to someplace else, Chicago, San Fran, NYC or maybe even Europe. New scene, new people, new friends, different surroundings, nothing familiar, but I know I'd just be running away from my problems instead of standing up and facing them. This has happened before. Back in '91, I quit my old band, broke things off with a long-time girlfriend and left Memphis, headed (first) for the West Coast, then New York and elsewhere, spending fifteen years trying to find "it" in different cities. That "it" was actually right here, inside me all along and is now waking up again and speaking to me. I believe it's my soul.When I first moved back to Memphis four years ago with Sara, it was like rediscovering this place through someone else's eyes because she completely fell in love with the city. For a while, things seemed new and different, we were having a great time but upon closer inspection I came to the realization that nothing had changed and I felt a tinge of sadness that the city hadn't progressed very much at all and it seemed as though people were still struggling, especially artists. It made me want to leave and when she and I broke off our engagement, the feelings grew. Where could I go? The search began and for months I looked all over this country, talked to dozens of good friends and to my surprise, most of them were going through the same trials as me. Musicians, as well as people in other professions, everyone was feeling the pain of a troubled economy. It seems to be a widespread thing, happening here as well as every major city in the country, maybe even the world.If I sit back for a minute, I can easily remember all the places I've lived and what my life was like at those moments. It's pretty much always been a struggle, but mostly a good one, so seeing as how I'm back in my own hometown, why not just dig myself in, get comfortable and work my tail off to make a noise right here. As far as the everyday stuff, rent, bills, food and fun, it's pretty easy to live here on a small income, which is about all there is. But I've got my band, The City Champs, a brand new record is coming out in a couple of weeks, we're hitting the road, there's also the new jazz trio with Chris and Jim, which is gonna be playing out soon. Not much to complain about really. As tough as it might be to get by, I hear that voice and that feeling hit me...I am exactly where I need to be, right now, so relax, take a deep breath and know that everything is gonna be alright.
New Trio
Not really sure where this will go, but it's exciting to have some different cats to play with and doing the stuff I've been dreaming about for a long time. Two of my good friends, Jim Spake and Chris Parker have been rehearsing with me, off and on for a couple of years, but we've never done a gig. I figured it was time to change that, so I booked one and it's in a few weeks, so we've got some time to suss out the material. It's good shit, too...we've got Hank Crawford, Art Blakey, Horace Silver, Monk, Herbie Hancock, Eddie Harris, Lou Donaldson, just to name a few, plus there's some original material that we're all bringing to the table, as well. So, I'm very excited. Parker, Sluppick & Spake. It's catchy, right?
Two Men and a Groove
This is it, for me...right here.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PXAfqr-Hc4]
A Renewal of Vows
Down in Natchitoches, Louisiana this past weekend, my father, "Big" George and his lovely wife, Judy celebrated their 20th year together at a small church, along with family and close friends. They walked (or rather danced) down the aisle, hand in hand, with big smiles and dressed to the 9's. Everyone was in tears at the beauty of the moment, me included.
The next day, the two of them got in their car and headed over the New Orleans for a second honeymoon. How cool is that? I love my dad.
I am fortunate to have a loving family, as crazy as we all are.
3 Days
http://vimeo.com/15574759Taking a break and getting out of town for a while can give you a different perspective on things, your life, the environment, your career...it's a good thing to do. Many of us don't get those kinds of opportunities very often, especially if there's family involved. Personally, I'm single, no children and I live alone. My job encourages me to travel and I jump at every chance I can get to do just that. On Sunday, I hit the interstate for a couple of hours, headed to Little Rock where I spent three days with a good friend of mine, writing and recording music. It was a nice time and a much needed retreat from this city. Being in his home with he and his wife, their four year old daughter, a dog and a cat made me feel grateful for the amount of freedom that I have at this moment in my life, to be able to pick up and leave town without there being any worry is a luxury. I am thankful for that. Tomorrow I'm going to visit my folks in Louisiana for the weekend and, along with my aunt and uncle, help them celebrate their 20 year wedding anniversary. How lucky I am.
Fun Gig & Great Photography
The City Champs played Alley Jams in Memphis on Sept 24, 2010, which was really cool and fun. Big Baby showed up near the end and took the whole night to another level of soul. There were a lot of photogs running around. My favorite new cat in town is totally killin it and I gotta give him props...his name is Chandler Moulton and these photos were shot by him. Y'all be sure and check out his stuff, he has a great eye and loves his work.
60 Seconds
"60 Seconds" is an original creation by Live From Memphis and it's pretty baddass. Basically, a 60 second video, doing whatever you wanna do. The Champs got a chance to do our thing a couple of weeks ago and it's just gone up on their site, so check it out...http://livefrommemphis.com/60seconds/5468-60-seconds-with-the-city-champsNew Episodes every Tuesday and Friday!
Growing Up In The '70s
“Butts up!” Dad yelled.And we knew that this was our cue, for what we had been instructed to do next when these words were shouted at my sisters Dawne and Audra and myself from the entry way at the front door, which is where they always came from. It’s where he was always standing when he said these words. After a long, hard day at the office, Merck, Sharp and Dhome, the big pharmaceutical company that Dad worked for, where he was credit manager for nearly thirty years, this is what he had to come home to. Mother screaming at him. It was a dead-end job with no real chance of upward movement, although he tried his best. His days were spent going over numbers and calling people that owed the firm money, which always made him feel bad, but he did it anyway. And he loved his boss and worked till he was blue in the face to please him, but nothing doing. Dad could never seem to catch a break. Hell, he’d already been passed up twice for promotion. Once even by his best friend, Bill Dickerson, who Dad had helped get the job in the first place. Was he bitter? Who knows. But we all felt his anger at the end of those long days, when he’d walk through that front door, on Scottsdale Street and Mom would stop him before he even got both feet inside our house.“Do you have any idea what I’ve had to deal with, with these damn kids of yours today?”Shouted our dear mother.We were never “hers” on those days. The bad days.“No” said Dad, wearily.“Well, for starters…”Then she would proceed to give him, in complete detail, the goings on of the day and “what” exactly, my sisters and I had done wrong. It was never good. We were all bad. That’s what she’d tell him. Something got broken, or spilled, shitty marks on a report card, or a little back-talk. Poor guy. She would blast him in the face and he’d get really hot, immediately. We never knew that he was polishing off a fifth of whiskey nearly every morning before heading into work for an 8-hour shift, so that by the time he would arrive home, he was hung-over, exhausted and hungry. But before he could rest, there were punishments to be administered and we’d hear those words come crashing down, like the volcanoes of Mt. Vesuvius.“I mean it. I wanna see bare asses in the air. Bend over those beds, right now, goddammit! Butts up!”Once in a while, he'd pull that belt off, fold it in half and SNAP! That sound was so loud and frightening. And one by one, like an assembly-line in a factory, he’d come down the hall, into our bedrooms and spank our tails red. We were so small that it usually only took two or three hits of his leather belt and we were finished. Little did we know that Dad was getting torn up inside every time he laid a hand on us. Once he even cried after spanking me and I was totally confused. I guess he felt like it was the right thing to do at the time, but it nearly killed him whenever he had to do it. Over the years, we have had many conversations regarding those days and he's always quick with an apology for ever raising a hand in anger, but I just look at him, smile and tell him that I love him. I think he did the best job he could do and I don't have any regrets. I don't see parents spanking their kids as much today as ours did back then and maybe that's a good thing, who's to say. I don't know, but whether we deserved it or not, we knew that we were loved and it was for our own good.Just look at us now...those were good times and we turned out alright.
***
Good Week
I've been busy. More than 20 gigs this month and it's been one of the busiest I've had in several years. It feels good to be working. My trio, The City Champs, played five shows together in a week, with tonight's being our last one for September. It was a wedding and we had a blast. The room was tiny with a tall ceiling and hardwood floor, so we had to keep the volume really low. It's the first time we've had to play like that together in a while, but no one complained and the music we made was good. I was proud to be sitting behind those drums, listening and vibing with my band mates, Joe and Al. Really good time.
The Champs have a brand new album (yes, that means a record made of vinyl) entitled, The Set-Up, which is set for release on November 2nd and we will be touring in support.
Cars
Mine is very quickly becoming a pain in my ass. I've spent nearly $3,700. on it this year alone and several hundred last year. Just about had enough with this thing. This was the 4th time this year that it's broken down, also the 4th time I've had to call AAA for a tow truck, and when I got it over to the repair shop, the mechanic told me that the battery cable was loose due to a shitload of corrosion underneath and that's the reason it wasn't starting. Wow, really? That was all that was wrong with it. Geez. Which means, that the guys at the shop in New Orleans, that had it for a month, tuning it up and charged me 1,400 bucks didn't have the courtesy of cleaning the frickin things and putting them back on tightly. Ain't this a bitch. You can't buy good help today and just when you think you have, you get slapped in the face, while they're sitting back laughing at you. Thanks G-n-K Automotive, in Metairie, LA. Yeah, I just called you out. I'll be sure and let all my friends down there know what fine work y'all do on cars.
The folks I really wanna be giving thanks to (besides AAA!) are not in Nola, but right here in Memphis at a little place called, A Not-So-Used Truck Rentals and their wonderful mechanic extraordinaire, Norm. Thanks, buddy! I'll never go anywhere else, I promise.
What the hell does Elvis Presley have to do with Stax?
Ok, so my good friend Cass was in town, visiting from New Orleans yesterday and wanted very badly to go to the Stax Museum of American Soul Music, and I was more than happy to oblige, as it's one helluva a place. She brought her friend Daron along and the three of us set out for good times. First stop, Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken. Daron commented on the fact that they added an apostrophe "s" at the end of the name and we all got a good laugh outta that. But the food, service and atmosphere were as stellar as the fried green tomatoes and we couldn't have been more full after that meal. In fact, there was a moment when we considered not visiting the museum and just going home to take naps. Yeah, it's that good. If you're ever here visiting, go there. It's worth it.About an hour later, we're parking the car and walking through the back lot and into the front door of this sacred ground that is Stax and I'm excited because I've been here before but they haven't and I know what they're in for as newcomers. The clerk at the front counter asks us where we're from and we tell him that Cass and Daron are from Nola and that I'm local. He smiles and tells them that their admission is $12.00 each, but that mine is free and I ask, "huh?", and he tells me that locals get in for free on Tuesdays. Cha-ching! This day is getting better.
There's a 20-minute film that starts the tour off that gives you the entire story in brief. It's heavy and if you've never been to this museum before, let me first warn you that it's an emotional place and that you may wanna bring along a handkerchief or some tissues. I definitely got some use outta my bandanna and I'm glad it was in my back pocket. The story is so compelling and I tear up every time. Cass and Daron were both feeling it too. But there's a lot to be happy about there too, like seeing Al Jackson's Rogers drum set, or Duck Dunn's bass, or all of the recording gear that's lining the walls. Hearing Otis Redding's voice in the main room, as he booms over the speakers in the studio outtakes that play continuously. Simply fantastic. Hundreds of recordings, memorabilia, old stage clothing, videos, Isaac Hayes' gold plated Cadillac. Damn! We were having a ball.
Anyhow, fast forward about 90 minutes and we're nearing the end, when all of a sudden Daron quickly comes walking over to me and says, "Dude, there's a giant Elvis exhibit in the next room!" WTF? Seriously? Wow. And sure enough, he was telling the truth because I turned the corner and staring me in the face was an entire two-room exhibit of huge, framed black and white photos of the King of Rock. I was floored. Daron looks at me and is wondering what the hell Elvis has to do with Stax Records and since we were at the end of the tour, we just went straight up to the folks at the counter in the front lobby and asked them. They informed us that, "Well, Elvis did record here once", which I did not know and was super surprised to learn, and that the last exhibit in the museum has been rotating with different shows every month. This month just happened to be the King's turn. Daron actually told the lady that his feelings were kinda hurt, which I thought was hilarious. I mean, come on we're at Stax for cryin out loud, not Graceland. There's enough of Elvis everywhere you go in this town, we don't need to see him at Stax.Just my two cents. I love him, don't get me wrong, but there's a time and a place.So, we head home and my friends are somewhat in a funk now and I am feeling kinda puzzled at the whole thing. Here we are having a great time looking at all of this stuff and reading about these peoples lives in this wonderful world of soul, then the very last thing we see is something that seems so out of place. I dropped my friends off at their hotel and headed out to my casino gig with my head down, wondering what was going on, then decided that I needed to find out, so when I got home I jumped on my computer and looked it up and sure enough the lady was telling the truth. Elvis DID record there, twice in 1973. Holy crap, and the Beatles were scheduled to be here right before him, but canceled the session due to the fact that the news of them coming to Memphis had created such pandemonium that their management decided it was a bad idea. Who knew? I did a Google search and found an interview where Steve Cropper said, "Taxman would have been Staxman". Memphis would have been forever changed if that had happened, but we still got the King.I guess this means I gotta go in search of these mysterious Elvis Stax sessions now.
September
September is an emotional time of year in everyone's life here in the U.S., as we are reminded of the day we were attacked by terrorists in New York City and Washington D.C., and our world was forever changed. It's a sad time. My good friend Steve Chopek was on tour drumming with Charlie Hunter at the time and on that very day he was standing at his terminal, waiting for a flight at the airport in Newark, NJ, where the NYC skyline is clearly visible to the eye and he watched the entire thing unfold. He was visibly shaken when I saw him after that and I can't even imagine what it must have been like, then and now, for those who were even closer or had friends or loved one's that perished. My heart goes out to them, the many.For me personally, this month is also about remembering the hurricane season and at this time five years ago, September 0f 2005, I was at the end of a month long tour with JJ Grey & MOFRO. Katrina had already blown through the Gulf and New Orleans, where I had recently relocated, was flooded. I had befriended a local guitarist and teacher, Brian Seeger, who owned a beautiful house there in Mid City that had a studio apartment in the back where he'd let me move into in early March. Such a killer spot and centrally located to City Park and tons of restaurants. Great neighborhood. Five days before the storm, I left to go out on the road with the band and was in Seattle when Katrina hit. Bummer. It was next to impossible to get anyone on the phone and as the days rolled on and I watched the daily reports and images of the flooding and devastation on CNN, I would look for my house when the news helicopter's flew over the city and my heart would sink. I just knew my stuff was gone, clothes, family heirlooms, photos, furniture, drums, everything gone. At least that was what my gut told me, but I was wrong because two weeks later, I found out through a good friend of Brian's that the house actually was just high enough off the ground that not one drop of water ever made it inside, which meant we were dry. Wow, total elation! I could not believe that news. When it was all over, the water was gone and our zip code was allowed back into the city (early October) when I got to my house and walked in the front door, it was hard to believe that we'd been spared.
Luckily, we came out of it better than most, with the majority of our possessions in-tact and we only found one little spot of mold in the house in one of the bedroom closets. Whew. I lost an '88 Toyota pickup truck that I'd driven out from California, but hell, it had three hundred thousand miles on it and was near it's end anyhow, so no great loss there. It was a great little truck that serviced me for a good ten years. But sadly, a lot of our family and friends didn't fare as well as us and it was a long road back for them. Bless their hearts.On September 23rd, another hurricane, Rita, was blasting through South Texas and destroying everything in it's path. MOFRO were about to play the Austin City Limits Festival that day and we all thought they might be shutting it down due to the powerful winds, but Rita lost steam and the show went on. I was feeling pretty good as the band took the stage for our last show of the tour and you can see the wind is blowing pretty strong in this video. There was a stage technician running around like crazy with a roll of duct tape, taping the legs of my cymbal stands to the drum riser. Very funny.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMbbYLYMJsA]Much love to those who have suffered in September and may we never forget.