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On a dark desert highway, coo …

Crap, crap, crap and more crap!!!

I spent two hours working on a post. I was still not finished. And I lost it. I mean, I can’t find the damn thing!

My laptop has gone through some extensive changes upon its return a few weeks ago from HP. Probably the biggest change is Windows 10. Yes, I took the plunge and installed for free. So far, I like it much better than Win 8.1. That will probably change. But it does seem as if the operating system is more user friendly. One thing I must add about having had this machine repaired. I now no longer am paying for the PC and it is still under warranty. Excellent!

This disappearing act has nothing to do with Windows 10, of that I am pretty sure. I have lost my text several times before on my WordPress content management system used on my blog.

I was even unable to save a draft of what I wrote today. I will give you a hint though, I was writing about the Eagles. It was a mini-review of Don Henley’s new, so-called by some, “country album.” So far, of the three songs I have heard released and on his website, the songs kind sound like early Eagles’ tunes.

As well, I had intended to do a mini-review of the autobiography I read by former Eagles founder and guitarist Don Felder. It is called “Heaven or Hell: My Life In The Eagles (1974-2001.) The book, co-written by Wendy Holden, is kind of a tell-all type read of celebrities for which I have little fondness. But I found this to be a well-written memoir that travels through a lot of turmoil from the time of Felder growing up in Gainesville, Fla., to his rock star years and beyond. Felder had a teen life of playing in bands and also teaching the likes of Tom Petty the art and craft of guitar. The would-be Eagles guitarist also had teen friends the like of Duane Allman and Stephen Stills. All these future stars would bounce musical ideas around each other perhaps setting each other’s place into rock posterity.

I have not heard all of Henley’s new work, as I said, so I will not attempt to do a review. But I did really like the Felder book although one should have an open mind reading such a book.

Since I lost the previous text I have written, I will, as promised welcome you to the “Hotel California.” I hope the video doesn’t have to check out and leave eventually for copyright reasons.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puHoadtIivc
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Trump, Jeb, CNN women and Clark Kent gets accosted by writer with Bob Dylan references.

Ahh. Here I am with the television on and it seems Donald Trump is speaking. What is good about this scene? The volume is off.

Oh. Now there is a commercial. A firefighter is nonplussed because years of varied mouth abuse has left him with ugly teeth. Maybe it was all that firehouse food. Firefighter Bad Teeth goes to a dental implant place and afterwards he feels much better. I don’t know why.

The fireman guy looks 50-something. He should be ready for retirement. He can go on painting houses on his days off. Nothing wrong with that. My brother John was a painter. I worked with him some so I guess that makes me a painter. He paid pretty decently for a brother. Maybe I was only a painter’s helper. That’s better than being hamburger helper.

I actually painted a couple of houses by myself. I really hated doing that. Back to Bad Teeth. What does the fireman think a good smile will do? Will he use his dazzling smile as a beacon to find lost children in the city sewer system? Perhaps he will smile as a painter. His painting client will say: “That’s it. That’s the color I want. It’s off white.” The firefighter/painter says: “Damned dentists!”

Whoa. Back to CNN. Joe Biden is talking to a nursing student. Huh? Some reporter, who reminds me of Clark Kent, is speaking about something or the other. Now, back to the CNN desk. Here is a blonde. Wait, there’s a blonde. Everywhere there’s a blonde blonde.

Jeb Bush is on TV. Where have you been, Jeb? Jeb is also pictured with his Tweet, or is it tweet. Tweet, tweet. What do you want, little bird?. And heeerrree is Trump. Then it is back to Jeb’s tweet. Back to Trump. He’s looking grump(y). Grumpy Trump(y). Trump wants to make America better. Better than what?

Wow! Now there is one blonde, one white and one black. Hold on! That’s one white, one black, and one blonde. Is it the Mod Squad? No it’s only Gloria Borger. Isn’t she a brunette? “G.L.O.R.I.A. Gloria!” Sing it Van. Back to politics. “Trump Should Speak English,” that is what it says below Gloria. It’s “Developing Now.”

Isn’t the problem Trump is speaking way too much English?

Now another brunette speaks. Where did she come from? And what is that she is sitting on? Why it’s a book. Actually, it’s a book of poems and she handed it to me. It was written by an Italian poet from the 13th century. And this is where we are. Sitting here, with the TV on and the sound turned off — all tangled up in blue.

“Does anyone have a harmonica?”

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Shining like the sun, a coincidence?

A few weeks ago I went through what has become a semi annual ritual of psychology. That is, I had an appointment with my mental health counselor at the VA clinic. The routine is that I go in the office, the counselor asks me how I’m doing — on occasion she’ll ask I feel like harming myself or others — I say I’m okay. She renews the prescriptions for anti-depressives. That’s it.

Sometime I feel as if I should ask her if the several-hour mental lapses I have is just something someone almost 60 years old normally experiences has whether it foretell dementia. I suppose if I am able to eventually determine a suitable answer on my own then perhaps I am good, at least this time.

What I forgot and then remembered an hour or so later, as it turns out, is one of those strange coincidences in which we often find ourselves.

Pink Floyd 2005 reunion in London. Photo by Dave Bush. Creative Commons,
Pink Floyd 2005 reunion in London. Photo by Dave Bush. Creative Commons

I was tying to remember what has become my favorite song by the psychedelic rock group Pink Floyd, “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.” The coincidence is that on this date in 1975, the inspiration for that song took place.

The site UltimateClassicRock.com relays the oft-told story of how former front man and Pink Floyd founder Syd Barrett crashed the studio in which his past band mates were recording their ninth album “Wish You Were Here.” It is on that album that “Diamond” was included.

That Barrett has showed up uninvited in the Abbey Road Studios of London was not so shocking. Rather it did unnerve his former band members that Barrett, whose mental state from whatever sources had faltered before, during and afterwards, had shaved his head and eyebrows, as well as had bloated up to some 300 pounds. Founding bassist and songwriter Roger Waters — who bitterly left the band some 30 years ago — broke down and cried when told by vocalist and multi-instrumental artist David Gilmour that the stranger was Barrett.

Now one might ask why all of this matters? Probably not a lot unless you are a big Pink Floyd fan. I wouldn’t call myself a fan-atic. But I have enjoyed many a Pink Floyd works. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” was meant for an entire album side but was broken into several pieces. It is one of those songs that you just kind of slide along listening to.

The coincidence is kind of uncanny, as coincidental occurrences are wont to happen. As well, it is rather nice to regain your memory before you have to attempt finding it on the Internet. Memory can be many things to many people, not the least is catapulting you back, back in time.

“Remember when you were young/You shone like the sun/Shine on you crazy diamond … “

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The incredible power of music

Just now I was sitting and listening to an old Steely Dan song that I either don’t remember or vaguely remember. The song, “Dallas,” was released in 1972 and has more of a country-rock ballad sound to it than the jazz-rock for which the band is known.

Hearing the song reminds me of my friends over the years and how most of those friends had varying interests in music even though the level in interest usually was somewhere between high and very high.

Some of my best friends from high school days played in a band and I would help them in any way I could short of singing or playing and instrument. My friends throughout have shared a love for music while not always sharing fondness for the same musicians.

A case in point was Waldo, my best friend and one dating back to high school all the way up until his untimely death from cancer in 1998.

People have their preferences as to what they like in their songs. Maybe some love the lyrics. Others like the music and or the lyrics or just the tune itself. Still others may even be taken with just a specific portion of a tune or a lyric. A lack of affinity with a particular group may come from some social context or even a perception of that context.

The latter tended to drive Waldo’s lack of appreciation for Steely Dan. He tended to think their music was “too cool,” in his terms, meaning he felt some people thought it was hip to like the jazzy sounds of the group.

To give full disclosure, Waldo (known as “Mr. Miller” at the high school where he taught government and economics,) did confess to liking the Steely Dan song: “Don’t Take Me Alive.”

 “Got a case of dynamite / I could hold out here all night / Yes, I crossed my old man back in Oregon / Don’t take me alive … “

Those lyrics exemplified the same stubbornness and general dislike of authority with which my friend identified. I am pretty certain that Waldo turned me on to such bands as Black Sabbath, that tended toward espousing a heavy dose of antisocial behavior.

Other discussions with other friends in later — as from the Navy and the 1970s on — spurred new interests which, like Johnny Appleseed, I have sometimes felt obliged to pass along to other friends. Yes, I know, a virtual wheel.

This might explain why I will spend an hour or more reading about someone like Randy Meisner — best known for a short time in the band Poco and the one who played bass and sang high harmony with The Eagles until after “Hotel California” was released. I mean, who don’t like The Eagles … ?

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Adios Dave

At what point I stopped watching “The Late Show With David Letterman” is difficult to recall. Probably that difficulty remembering stems from not actually pulling the plug on his show in its entirety.

I came to watch Jimmy Kimmel’s show on ABC within the last six months or so. I was just tired of Letterman, something about his show had gone stale. Maybe it’s like becoming what we called in the Navy, a short-timer. We knew the days, hours and minutes before we left for civilian life and we would rub that knowledge in the face let our cohorts who had much more time left. We weren’t particularly big on doing our normal duties either.

Now a show as big as Letterman’s operation can’t just be left to go to hell in a handbasket. I have watched some episodes lately of Letterman, such as last night’s laugh fest with Bill Murray. He came out of a giant celebration cake and upon hugging Letterman, both continued to wear the cake through the episode. No, Dave still had very quality shows when I stopped watching, it’s just, I don’t know, a tiresome act.

David Letterman. Wikimedia. Creative Commons
David Letterman. Wikimedia. Creative Commons

I first started watching Kimmel when his show first aired. I think he had Mike Tyson as a week-long guest and it was very oddball and very funny. And I had never liked Tyson. That show began a process of rehabilitation toward my feelings for Tyson. But I continued on, watching Letterman and occasionally I’d watch Leno. I liked his Jay Walking skits and “Headlines.” But I’d go back to Letterman without fail. My watching mostly depended on who Dave had as a guest.

No entertainer, at least in modern TV, had the type of show like Letterman’s. I think it was interactive before interactive was cool. I liked how some of his seeming “grunts” or regular employees would perform some of the best comedy with Letterman, this would include people like stage manager Biff Henderson, who had done countless skits both on site and off to some forsaken place. Dave’s Mom also became a beloved character on the show. Rupert Jee, the owner of the Hello Deli next door to the Ed Sullivan Theater, was on a recent show. Rupert seemed over the years like he would do anything Dave asked, no matter how ridiculous the request.

1978 Press photo of Warren Zevon.
1978 Press photo of Warren Zevon.

Music director Paul Schafer and his bad were stars in their own right. They often had musical guests who also sat in for multiple nights. One of my favorite guest musicians and apparently Letterman’s was the rock genius Warren Zevon. The writer and performer of hits such as “Werewolves of London” and “Lawyers, Guns and Money,” played many Lettermen shows from the first seasons on NBC to the early 2000s CBS incarnation. Zevon substituted for Shafer about 20 times and Letterman had a show entirely dedicated to Zevon upon his announcement of a diagnosis for terminal cancer that eventually killed him.

Letterman educated people during the aftermath of his own heart attack and he was the perspective-in-chief in the days following that horrible day on Sept. 11, 2001. Watch below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBLgp1qTCTg

These were just some of my most favorable moments from David Letterman, the majority having been on CBS from the 90s on. I either didn’t have or didn’t watch TV much in the 80s when Letterman began his network shows. I haven’t watched Jimmy Fallon’s show on NBC. I don’t know if I will. And I have no idea how Colbert will be as the new man behind the desk here at CBS in the Letterman time spot. If he can give the people the humor, the goofiness, the silliness with style and yes, even the perspective, that folks deserve, I might just watch Colbert’s show as well as Kimmel’s.

Good luck, David Letterman.