Posted on

Super Bowl madness yields too little music, so far

Lots of sports and lots of nothing have graced the magical electronic airwaves this week from Super Bowl in New Orleans. We know almost everything about the two brothers Harbaugh coaching against each other almost to the point that I fear we will learn about each one’s success at toilet training. We know the San Francisco 49ers player, who don’t seem to be as much of a “player” as he thinks, who said we “the team” ain’t got no gays! Okay he didn’t say it exactly like that. But he is so much of a non-story that I will not bother to look up his name so excuse me if I don’t quote him verbatim.

And we’ve had Ravens perhaps Hall of Fame-to-be linebacker turned street preacher Ray Lewis accused of using a potion from deer antlers. Give me a break. This guy got a lesser charge of obstructing justice on a murder rap! It’s supposedly the last season for Ray Lewis. But we’ve heard that before from some who just can’t kill the golden goose even though he … sorry. Forgive me pastor, for being so cynical.

What we’ve not heard a lot of or a lot about is music. New Orleans is music. The vaunted Mardi Gras Carnival time is now. A few parades were shifted around to accommodate the big game. So what comes to your mind when you hear “New Orleans?” “Oh when the Saints go marching in … ” perhaps? Well, maybe you think “Katrina.” Bad vibe indeed. Let’s just say when you think of New Orleans music a song will come with it.

All large U.S. cities have songs written about them or in their title or lyrics: “New York, New York these vagabond shoes they are longing to stray … ” Or maybe a little “Chicago, Chicago that toddlin’ town … ” Even jump on down to the No. 10th largest city, “Deep within my heart lies a melody, a song of old San Antone, San Antone … ” Okay, it’s actually San Antonio, but give me some license Jack!

New Orleans is a large U.S. — not as large as before Katrina hit. Actually, U.S. Census figures show NOLA was declining in population before Katrina. The city ranked 24th in the ’90 Census but shrank to 31st in the 2000 Census. Today it is 51st in the U.S. However, rebuilding and repopulating has made the Crescent City the fastest growing large city in the U.S., according to the 2010 decennial tally.

Hey, all that stuff don’t mean a thing. Well it does to some. It means something to many to be exact. But even if New Orleans was a just a tiny photograph of itself the city would still be playing music and folks would be singing “Iko, Iko” or a jazz band would still be blasting away as some soul was carried to his final resting place. Well, providing no more Katrinas come along.

Songs remain in our minds and on our musicians fingers and hands and lips so we all hear songs about New Orleans or with a New Orleans reference like just a half-dozen of my favorites:

“New Orleans Lady,” Le Roux (Louisiana’s Le Roux)

“Battle of New Orleans,” Johnny Horton

“Hey, Hey, (Indian’s comin’)” The Wild Tchoupitoulas

“Walking to New Orleans” Fats Domino

“House of the Rising Sun” The Animals

“Louisiana 1927 (The river had busted through clear down to Plaqemines/Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.)” Randy Newman

Well, all six songs may “technically” not about New Orleans proper but it don’ madda.

Sorry, I’m just not up to linking all the songs. If you want to hear them, you know what to do. Oh, and as for the songs about big cities. I am flying to Dallas next week but I, hopefully, won’t be flying at night and definitely will not be flying on a DC-9 at night. 

Posted on

Going down to the river’s edge. Then I am gone.

Hey folks, how’s it hanging?

I been riding all around Hell and half of Orange County, Texas, today. I was down by the river. It was a river as Neil Young might sing about: “Down by the river, I shot my baby,” seems so appropriate. For that is the Neches River I speak of today. Seems like someone is always shooting their loved one along the Neches.Or else they are dumping a body — whether they loved the person or not — in that same river or its nearby sister river, the Sabine. Nothing was calling me down to the water. No one I know of was saying“Take Me To The River,” as in the Delbert McClinton version of the 1974 Al Green song also done in a decent new wave by The Talking Heads.

I was just down along the river for no other reason than “working for a living.” I wonder why so many people turn their noses up to Huey Lewis and the News? Maybe it’s because a lot of his songs sound alike. I don’t know. I always liked some of his songs. Hell, you don’t have to be a fanatic to like a song.

Rivers seem to inspire a lot of songwriters. Perhaps my favorite river song of all time is “Big River,” the Man in Black Johnny Cash and his masterpiece ode to the big Missisip.

 “Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry/And I taught the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky/And the tears that I cried for that woman, they’re gonna flood you Big River/And I’m gonna sit right here until I die.”

Likewise, who can forget Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary?” “Rollin,’ rollin,’ rollin,’ on the river … ”

So much to say about the river. So many memories. But soon it was time to turn around. Work time beckoned

Posted on

Best and worst Christmas songs

After living in different parts of the state I returned home to Beaumont (Texas) seven years ago and found that it really isn’t Christmas ’round my neck of the woods without hearing the soulful Charles Brown classic: “Please Come Home for Christmas.” Brown grew up in Southeast Texas between Houston and Beaumont and his record soared up in the charts a number of years during the holidays. Other artists recorded the song as well, including the Eagles. Even as much as I like the Don Henley (a northeast Texas boy) vocals, I still think Brown’s version is the one that makes me remember listening to the song on jukeboxes this time of year in little cafes from Bon Wier to Buna.

With that said, here are a few picks for my faves and not so fave Christmas tunes.

EFD’s It’s Christmas time ya’ll

“Please Come Home For Christmas” — Charles Brown; Numero Uno

“Merry Christmas From The Family” — Robert Earl Keen; For all those dysfunctionals, Feliz Navidad

“The Story of Santa Claus And His Old Lady” — Cheech and Chong; “He had a suit on with black, patent leather choos … ” Not really a song, but, it’s a holiday classic.

EFD’s Most Despised Christmas Songs

“Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” — If you want to find the You Tube version, be my guest. What an awful song!

“Little Drummer Boy” — “Pa rumpa pom pom,” or however you spell it. This song makes me want to be locked in a room listening to Led Zeppelin. “Me and my drum. Rumpa pom pom.” Okay, got it. Thank you. Got it a long time ago.”

“Jingle Bells” — The Dog Version. I got to admit, it was pretty cute the first time I heard it played on a TV car dealership commercial. After awhile though, it makes you want to be locked in a room listening to Led Zeppelin.

 

Posted on

Still kicking, hanging onto the cliff, working on the weekend, remembering those “Night Moves”

Here comes the weekend. Woo hoo! I have to work eight hours tomorrow, but I’m not complaining. I have decided to share some of the reading I found on a couple of items of interest. Rather than my take on something — we know what that’s worth — maybe someone will learn something they didn’t know from this. Then again, maybe not.

Also, I am painstakingly not writing my opinion because I might eventually write a freelance piece for some publication that is somewhat related to the issue. I am talking about the NFL commissioner floating the idea that the football kickoff should cease because studies show the kickoff is where most injuries occur during that task. One side issue which is related to this story is the lawsuits which were filed on the NFL by more than 3,900 plaintiffs over the neuro-cognative damage from serial concussions sustained in playing football . Roger Goodell, NFL Commissioner, proposed that the kickoff go the way of leather helmets. Instead, a team would get the ball on the 30-yard-line with a 4th down and 15-yard situation. The team could either punt or take its chances on making 15 yards or more for the 1st down. Opinions? Yeah, I have opinions. What about them? But I will keep this one to myself.

Finally, if we haven’t had enough talk of “going over the cliff” now stories are circulating how air travel may be affected if we indeed are flung off that cliff. The FAA would have less flight controllers, the program that props up some little airports would end so some smaller airports might have to shut down, as well as TSA screeners perhaps having to go. (I bet Rep. Gohmert would like that.) In the run, air travel would be much more costly, and this could all add to another recession.

On that cheery little note, I bid you a farewell for the weekend. Yeah, buddy! I saw them at the “Super Bowl of Rock and Roll” on June 12, 1982, with my friend Suzie, her sister and some friend of a friend. Loverboy appeared on that hot Dallas day in the Cotton Bowl with (Louisiana) Le Roux, Ozzy Osborne and Foreigner. That was the second time I saw Foreigner. I caught them back in ’77 at the City Park Stadium in New Orleans with some four of my Navy buddies. Also at that concert, in something like June 1977 was Bob Seger, Louisiana Le Roux (must of been Deja Roux in Dallas) and Fleetwood Mac. The latter group’s single “Dreams” from their Rumours album was No. 1 on the Billboard Singles chart that same month. Seger’s “Night Moves” reached No. 4 after its release in October 1976. So needless to say Fleetwood Mac and Seger were extremely hot when I saw them in New Orleans. I also got to experience my only foreign rock concert later that year in 1977 when Fleetwood Mac played in Auckland, New Zealand. Just reliving some good times, man!

Posted on

Real college legends and other tales to see the week out

Hello out there! Tommy can you hear me? That’s from The Who’s ground-breaking rock opera, “Tommy.” You, know, ” … the deaf, dumb and blind kid sure plays a mean pinball.” That came out when I was in high school, or my between junior high and high school. Sometime back when I was a “yewt.” What’s a “yewt,” you might ask? That is, if you are the late actor Fred Gwynne. Sorry you have to watch “My Cousin VInny” if you don’t know.

The song Tommy reminds me of a guy I knew in college named Tommy who purported to be a deaf guy. The problem was, according to my friends who knew him better than I did, he really wasn’t deaf. He was one of those living college legends I guess every institution has. I knew several of those legends.

One such guy had parents who were paying his way to college and who bought a condo in which he resided. This guy didn’t work. He also didn’t go to class — for several years. We remained friends until he broke into the mobile home I lived in — climbed through the living room window while I slept — and stole my crappy TV and radio. I called the cops later that morning when I was at work and while I spoke to the cops, it came to me, SOB (we’ll use that as his name). It just popped in my head SOB was the type of person who would do that as a joke. It wasn’t that funny to me. It wasn’t because the TV or radio were of any great value. The problem as I saw it was that I used to sleep with a loaded .410 shotgun in the bedroom. I might have shot the SOB. I came up with what turned out to be a kind of cruel joke on him.

I called SOB and got his brother on the phone. I asked bro if SOB had stolen my stuff. He said “yeah.” I told him to tell SOB to meet me after work. I met the psycho, who gave me back my stuff. I told him I spoke with the police, who told me I should tell my friend to get some psychological help, that whoever did something like that had real emotional problems. I made the SOB cry. College kid. I know, that was mean.

This week I ended up working about 30 hours. I got home at 8 p.m. last night and 4:30 this afternoon. Only 30 hours and it seems like I work full-time. That is neither here nor somewhere else. Time for a sandwich.