WFMU's Beware of the Blog

Music of CHOTCHKE, part two

We're back with another installment of improvisations and songs from bassooncore legends Chotchke, active in San Francisco from 1993 to 1998 (not counting a later reunion gig). As it happened, last time, I presented a rather bassoon-light batch of pieces (as pointed out readily by my exacting listeners and a band member or two) and so THIS time I strove to pick songs that ALL had a lot of Carrie Barclay's bassoon work on them.
The lineup heard this week features members: Jon Arnold : guitar,drums and vocals, Carrie Barclay : bassoon and guitar, Jon Fellman : guitar and vocals,  Jonathan Hess : bass guitar, vocals, and  Drew Dobbs : drums, percussion and vocals.
Today's selection contains improv.s, half-finished songs, and fully-polished 16-track renditions.
Enjoy ten fine slices of Chotchke history after the bump.

Feeling B - Ich such' die DDR (video)

Johnny Got a Gun

Being that tomorrow is the 150th anniversary of John Brown's audacious assault upon the arsenal at Harper's Ferry, Beware of the Blog would like to offer two ways to pay homage. First, pull up a chair and read Brown's spellbinding address to the court following his conviction:

click to enlarge

Now that you've revisited this righteous moment in American history, be sure to stay seated and take in this almost equally captivating work of divine inspiration:

Fiancée of Dracula - Jean Rollin (2002)

With a few notable exceptions (Stuart Gordon, Larry Cohen), my horror-auteur gods have been letting me down in recent years. Granted, artists like George A. Romero and Dario Argento are working with much bigger budgets, and greater public expectations than Jean Rollin has ever had to deal with, and maybe that, in and of itself, is partly the kiss of death for these comparative big shots.

Why do I consider myself a huge Rollin fan, yet I've never, until now, watched a film of his later than The Living Dead Girl (1982)? Maybe I didn't want to risk having the master of vampire chateaus, beguiling female malefactors, moody beach scenes and the darkly absurd shot down in my estimation. Boy was I wrong. It took the recommendation of WFMU / My Castle of Quiet super-listener Richard Ridden to coax me into taking a chance on Rollin's 2002 feature, Fiancée of Dracula, and I have nothing but good things to report.

First of all, it's amazing to me that the same, crumbling, ruined pier Rollin has been using as a location since the late 1960s has never been fixed up (perhaps that's French infrastructure for you), and in this film, he's used that craggy pier for one of his most compelling seaside visions ever. Secondly, the classic Rollin motif of grandfather clocks as a travel portal for the undead is employed here again, some 30 years after the director's phantasmagorical 1971 feature, Le frisson des vampires.

What other visual and conceptual delights fill out the body of Fiancée of Dracula? What say thee to a convent of mad nuns, who smoke pipes and cigars, don funnels and quote Jarry, and have a mean kick in the bargain? Or a salacious blonde ogress, who feeds on live infants? How about a mind-boggling scene—perhaps the best in the whole film—in which a nun, having been brutally slaughtered, suddenly rises up and carries around her own bleeding heart? All this and more, including a minor, but pivotal role, played by Rollin's long-time star, the lovely Brigitte Lahaie. I fear if I say too much, I will most certainly curb your surprise and pleasure in watching this film. It's enough to say that maestro Rollin has maintained the visual sense, absurdity, and moody, ethereal vibrations that have defined his filmmaking career from the very start.

News of the Dead: This Just In—Soldiers Die in U.S. Civil War

Deaths come in pairs, and sometimes it seems that News of the Dead does, too. In the past week there have been two stories about the remains of Civil War soldiers in this area.

First there was the ceremonial burial of the remains of a New York soldier who died at Antietam (Sept. 17, 1862—the bloodiest day of the war, with over 23,000 killed). A tourist at the battlefield found some bone fragments, uniform buttons, a belt buckle, and scraps of fabric about a year ago; the buttons identified the remains as being that of a soldier from one of the 24 New York regiments that fought that day. Government Scientists and Experts had a go and decided the soldier was between 17 and 19 years old when he died. That was about as much as they could figure out, so the bits and bones were put into a box inside a “period-appropriate” pine coffin and sent to the National Cemetery near Schuylerville. Civil War re-enactors stood guard over the coffin until it was buried last week on the 147^th anniversary of the battle. The grave marker says it’s an unknown soldier who died at Antietam. “We’re going to remember him as a hero,” says Donald E. Roy, the director of New York’s Military Forces Honor Guard (and a civilian)—although, of course, no one knows who the soldier was or what he really did.

Next was the story of John F. Wescott Jr., who was fooling around with findagrave.com and discovered that his great, great, great grandpa, Capt. Andrew W. Davis of the 8^th Infantry Regiment of New Jersey, was buried in an unmarked grave in Newark. Last Saturday the Wescotts got together and installed a marker from the Veterans Administration over the Captain, who died from the wound he got when he was shot in the leg at Gettysburg.

These two dead Civil War soldiers caught my attention because at the time I was reading This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War, by Drew Gilpin Faust. Of course I was aware that the Civil War changed the way death was regarded in the U.S.—it furthered the development and use of embalming, for one thing. But Faust’s book explains how far-reaching the changes were. The slaughter brought about the Federal Government’s first foray into arranging its citizens’ personal lives, caused people to reject their religious beliefs, and resulted in both widespread sentimentality and cynicism. It launched a tentative move towards women’s rights, created big advances in the field of statistics, and made James Russell Lowell write bad poetry (and lots of people write atrocious songs). It caused people to fret about identifying and returning the remains of their dead—just like the box of bone bits in New York and the Captain’s grave in New Jersey. It’s a terrific book, well-researched and well-written, and I recommend it to you.

Thanks for reading my blogpost this time, and may God bless.

The Cookie Monster and 9/11

Just after the 8th anniversary of the WTC attacks, I discovered this shocking cover of a 1976 Sesame Street special "Monsters on the Loose!" on David Icke's official forum. Click the link to read more about this story the government doesn't want you to know.

Silver Bridge Disaster - Part 2 (MP3s)

One of my earliest posts here on Beware Of The Blog featured two MP3s about a deadly 1967 bridge collapse.  In case you're fuzzy on the details, I'm referring to the collapse of the Silver Bridge (into the Ohio River) on December 15, 1967 which resulted in 46 deaths.  The bridge, which connected Kanauga, Ohio to Point Pleasant, West Virginia, was built in 1928.  More details can be found in the original post.

Since then, through some magical combination of fate and good fortune, I've somehow rounded up an additional four 45s about the collapse of the great Silver Bridge, so here they are. 

Charles Alexander with The Carolina Five  -  The Great Silver Bridge  (2:50)

Little Hot Rod and The Fire Blazers  -  Grey Silverbridge  (2:48)

Cecil Pigott  -  The Fate Of The Silver Bridge  (2:56)

Ray Anderson  -  The Silver Bridge Disaster  (4:00)

       

And for the sake of convenience, the two MP3s posted earlier are included below.

Jim Stout  -  Silver Bridge History  (3:52)

Three J's  -  Silver Bridge Disaster  (2:13)

Celebrity Anti-Drug PSA's, Part Three

Pull up a tattered divan, load another noggin of taduki into the hookah and listen to the reasoning of these wise sages, seven in number. This batch of psa's is a particular treat, taken alone, they would ably represent the fun and goofiness of the entire series of "Get Off" radio records.
But first, an obligatory quote:

Resemblances exist between snowflakes and leaves. Seeing it snow, we think we can see tiny flowers falling from the sky. Why are the leaves that fade in autumn goldenly beautiful, and why do we think the spring flowers have tongues, comprise a sort of conversation? At the sight of leaves we think of hands fingered as if with buds. The feathers of the birds, the leaves on the trees, the delicate, feathery, fingery snowing in winter are related, we think ourselves entitled to say. The wind seems a thoughtless creature, not to be trusted; the windless calm, sensible of its own beauty, is as sweet as obedience that blissfully flows about within itself. Does the wind sense its own windiness? Does the leaf know how beautiful it is? Do snowflakes smile and flowers bewitch themselves, and do curls have some idea of their curliness? A river resembles a supple, rushing wanderer in its flowing, and water in its tranquility is like a beautiful woman with white gloves and blue eyes. Thick foliage cloaks the delightful delicacy of the twigs. That lovely things exist is a lovely thought. Waves and branches have snakelike shapes, and there come moments when we know we are no more and no less than waves and snowflakes, or than that which surely feels, now and then, from its so wonderfully charming confinement, the pull of longing: the leaf.

Robert Walser / Prose Piece

Better Living Through Bad Movies - Werewolf Woman (1976)

I will happily wade through hours of 70s Euro muck just to get to one Werewolf Woman. For every three middling giallos that I watch, one Werewolf Woman makes it all worthwhile.

What makes Werewolf Woman stand apart from the pack (hehe)? Alchemy. Getting the horror-to-schlock preparation just right, with a combination of familiar and strikingly unique genre elements:

-Wild scenes of gore, ranging from the kick-ass to the comic, depicting shocking murders, perpetrated on victims of both sexes—by a female antagonist!
-A B-grade Morricone-esque score that's all over the map, from prog rock, to pulsating electronics, from creepy orchestral music to softcore sex pop
-A lead actress who clearly relished the opportunity to bite out a man's throat, throw his body into a ravine and shriek vengeful anger as his corpse rolled away
-Uncomfortably long, simulated scenes of lovemaking that somehow just go with the terrain and make me laugh
-Despite the above, a buyable sexual/repression/revenge subtext; in fact, there are several immensely weird sexual scenes
-Close-up shots of character's eyes, another European trash-horror staple that always makes me titter
-An eventual romance with a stuntman who lives in a pre-fab Western town—wait, what???

Yes, this is one of those....

The movie begins with a scream, cutting quickly to a frenzied, naked dance in a fire circle, and pretty much just ascends from there.

The film is also far from terrible technically, and it's obvious that the director and cinematographer knew how to create tension, and how to film scenes of horrific murder for maximum impact.

Highly recommended.

Car Bras and the Bros that Bought 'em

Where have all the car bras gone?

Did they leave embarrassing tan lines and end up in a landfill somewhere? Did cars become chubbier, unable to squeeze back into their old cup size? Did highway patrol technology finally catch up with the radar-absrobing car bra and ruin the party?

A cursory survey of cars parked on the mean streets of downtown Jersey City revealed the following:

0% cars with bras (left)
1% cars with the De-Fender (right)

Is the De-Fender the new stigma-free version of the car bra? It's more rugged, clearly not made of leather, designed for the rear-end instead of the bust, and is definitely not form-fitting. Seems like a more manly way of protecting your Honda's bumper (bootie?). Have car owners lost interest in their vehicle's front-end assets? Or is there something more to this newfound concern for a car's rump over its rack? A sign of ass-worship or fear of rear-end penetration?

Speaking of bromobiles, you call 'em Iroc-Zs, I call 'em Camaros. If you still have one kicking around, you should donate it to WFMU.

Thanks to Scott, Ari, Chad, Jason, and Alex for their insights concerning these pressing matters.

Scripts and Clips

In the midst of our grand de-hoarding effort (Everything Must Go! preferably for cash) I came across a box full of scripts for “Truckstop Teaparty,” a radio show I used to do on WFMU. I’ve been told that people often didn’t realize there were scripts for that show, probably because I always sounded so befuddled, but in fact every word I said on-air was written out in advance. In fact, even the umm’s and uh’s were written out, in an attempt to make myself sound more “natural.” This was because I was so terrified of being on the radio that my mind went completely blank every time I went on mic. If I hadn’t had something to read, no sound would have come out of my mouth at all. So it was interesting to see what words were coming out in 1989-90-91.

Even more interesting were the hefty piles of newspaper clippings I’d saved with every show’s script. These were news stories I’d reference as I talked about “News of the Dead” or “Danger!” or any of the various other regular Truckstop Teaparty features. It’s incredible to me that newspapers—common, everyday tabloids--were ever so informative, with long, well-referenced articles about all sorts of actual news. There seemed to be a lot of stories about eroding privacy rights, the plight of homeless people, the environment, and political upheaval in other countries: Iran, Romania, Panama, Czechoslovakia, Germany, and so on. There were “first woman” stories (the first woman to lead U.S. troops in combat, the first woman minor-league umpire, etc.) and weird racism stories. There were way too many stories about accomplished, talented people dying of AIDS. There were stories about drugs, murders, serial killers, and the successful development of the first genetically engineered foods. There was a story about how the first President Bush had admitted falsifying intelligence information to win approval for the first war in Iraq. These newspaper stories were literate, well-written, and told you something, and it was kind of shocking to see how much newspapers have changed in just … well, okay, 20 years ,,, and how much everything else is still the same.

 Anyway, I threw ‘em all out. The only clipping I kept was a torn bit of a longer article, the final three paragraphs of what apparently was a review of something—a book or TV show involving Nat Hentoff?—written by someone named Vince Passaro. Here’s what he wrote:

 “Censorship begins in fear: fear of contradiction, fear of insult and injury, fear of confusion, paradox and despair. Hentoff points out that in many cases the censoring parties have valid objections to the material they wish to suppress. Yet he also shows that the best way to deal with ideas you don’t like is to inform yourself about them and counter them with ideas of your own—to debate, in other words. But where does a culture learn the language of debate? Currently, we willingly misuse the word to refer to the meeting of opposing political candidates in which rehearsed speeches pass as answers to predictable questions. If that’s what we call debate, it’s highly unlikely that we’ll last as a democracy.

“In fact, the great censorship of our times is the self-censorship of our reporters and editors, our writers of books, our television commentators. Why is it that the Iran-contra story had to be broken by a Lebanese weekly, although several American journalists knew of it? Why was the great menace of Iraq trumpeted far and wide, with fancy graphics and musical scores, while the arming of the menace, by us, illegally, is still only mentioned in whispers? Why is it that there is so little discussion, in an election year, of the S&L failures and a possible collapse, of greater magnitude, in commercial banking?

“Like vampires or cave-dwelling fish, we have lost the ability to live in light because no one has been shedding any. Unless you have a $40-million production budget, it’s pretty much impossible to disseminate an upsetting idea in this country; when you do, the crowds scream as if they’ve been hit with acid. Hentoff, for all his fervor, never takes the parties responsible for our condition to blame. We don’t need to be introduced to school boards in the heartland to see censorship in action; all we have to do is open our major dailies, or watch network news.”

 “Major dailies”—who’s even gonna know what that means in 5 years? And yeah, I googled him. I don’t think Vince Passaro is writing book reviews for tabloid newspapers anymore, and I don’t think any future Vince Passaros are, either.

 Thanks for reading my blogpost this time, and may God bless.

Hide Your Christian Daughters—Marduk Returns!

Swedish black metal legends Marduk finally return to our shores after visa problems (so I'm told) forced them to cancel their stint on the Mayhem tour earlier this year. With the acknowledgment that many fans were deeply disappointed (myself included), Marduk didn't really belong on that tour anyway: The real stars were grind titans Cephalic Carnage and Cattle Decapitation. Mayhem, despite the presence of both Necrobutcher and drummer Hellhammer, and those handsome, satin 25 Years of... flags that flanked the stage, were really sort of lame - Attila Csihar being the Flavor Flav of black metal (substituting an oversize upturned cross for a timepiece.)

When I last saw Marduk, at a sparsely attended, all-ages show in Central Jersey in 2001 (then with fan-favorite vocalist Legion) they gave their all as if it were their big night at the Garden. Yes they came out in corpsepaint, leather and spikes, but beyond that there was no pomp, no pretense—just a love of black metal and the obvious relish of a chance to deliver it to their fans.

The current Marduk lineup basically dates from 2004, though the constant of guitarist Morgan Håkansson (aka Evil from Abruptum) remains. Guitarist Magnus "Devo" Andersson was also in Marduk over 1992-1994, playing on the great Those of the Unlight LP as well as the band's full-length debut. Marduk vocalist Daniel "Mortuus" Rosten is no slouch either, having fronted the mighty Triumphator (which also featured former Marduk drummer Fredrik Andersson), and his solo project Funeral Mist has been a fan and critic favorite for years. Yes, the Swedish black metal scene is a bit incestuous, but to our benefit, as this means these guys have chops on their chops, so it should be a great show.

Marduk will be releasing their 11th studio album, Wormwood, on Septemper 24 (Oct. 13 in the U.S.)

Below are a few career-spanning mp3s to entice you out this Saturday night; Marduk are playing the Blender Theater at Gramercy in NYC with Withered, Black Anvil and the excellent Tombs. Full Marduk tour dates can be seen here (there are Baltimore and Philadelphia shows that precede NY.) Marduk will also be making a meet-and-greet appearance (!) at Duff's in Williamsburg this Friday night.

Christraping Black Metal from Panzer Division Marduk
Night of the Long Knives from World Funeral
Seven Angels, Seven Trumpets from Plague Angel
Cold Mouth Prayer from Rom 5:12

Ted Kennedy & The Bridge At Chappaquiddick (MP3s)

July 18 (Saturday) will mark the 40th anniversary of the death of Mary Jo Kopechne.  Kopechne left a party with Senator Ted Kennedy who piloted  his Oldsmobile 88 off the side of a nearby bridge and into the water below.  He managed to escape, but Kopechne drowned in the car.  In an act of indefensible cowardice, Kennedy fled the scene and did not bother contacting the police until 10AM the next morning.

Kennedy's account of the evening is full of inconsistencies and raises a great many questions.  Earlier this year, the Boston Globe published a detailed account of the tragedy, which can be found here.

        

Don Eddings  -  Chappaquiddick Bridge  (2:47)

Voices Of Cape Cod  -  The Ballad Of Mary Jo  (3:47)  The Ballad Of Mary Jo was written by Doctor Ludmil Chotkowski, an internist who earned his medical degree at Yale University School Of Medicine.  In addition to this song, he is also the author of a 2002 book titled Chiropractic: The Greatest Hoax Of The Century?  He died in 2006 and his obituary can be read here.

Highlights from Wildwood, N.J. - 1994

Patent Quiz

After the unfortunate passing of Michael, everything from His favorite pill combos, to His child custody problems, to His music publishing issues, to His preferred brand of toothpaste have been dismembered, torn, and tossed into the final press to eek out any remaining dregs of data for the (us?) media vultures.

During this whole circus, you may have discovered that the guy from Toto actually wrote "Human Nature" (thanks Doron). Or perhaps you came across Michael's patent for "Method and means for creating anti-gravity illusion" (thanks Listener Colin & Ron) - PDF here, diagram below.

My buddy Dennis also sent along a few other patent documents filed by notable folks: images are below the jump, see if you can put a name to the images.

 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Don Dohler Double Feature – The Alien Factor and Fiend

The Alien Factor (1978) is so archetypal of 70s ultra-low-budget sci-fi/horror that it almost seems like a SCTV parody of the genre. Loaded with awkward blocking and long snatches of blandly delivered expositional dialogue, its strength is in its simple charms: a few good ideas, some amusing characters, and enough money-shot visuals to inspire 100 great screen captures. These folks clearly worked hard on the monsters—one of which has anatomically built-in platform heels—and in general, your entertainment will come from the earnest and colorful visual effects and primitive, in-camera and stop-motion techniques. Make no mistake, The Alien Factor is eyeball-pleasin'; the title sequence alone should be canonized as some kind of holy representation of 70s goodness. If I seem to disparage The Alien Factor, it's only because Dohler's next feature goes straight to the heart of my aesthetic nerve centre. 

Everything that The Alien Factor may lack in sophistication is more than made up for by director Don Dohler's next movie, Fiend (aka Deadly Neighbor, 1980), a genuinely creepy, witty and highly original living-dead scenario. In the film, a mysterious alien force, an ethereal red-glowing flying thing, for reasons unknown to us, reanimates (or possesses) a buried corpse, and the combo adds up to one nasty character, an intense sadist named Mr. Longfellow. The trajectory is quite unpredictable, as our zombie pal takes over an empty house, opens a music school (!), and generally irritates his neighbors (whose somewhat banal interactions also provide their own amusing little subplot, especially as the length of the wife's hair keeps changing from scene to scene.) And oh yes, there's Longfellow's murder/sustenance rituals, which also consist of shouting and stabbing at photographs of his victims (and a lot of black candles.)

After Alien Factor, Dohler must have learned a lot about shot framing, suspenseful editing, and economy of dialogue, such that Fiend is elevated from being merely a visually charming, colorful oddity like its predecessor, to being an aggressively weird and disquieting horror tale. I'd also be remiss not to mention that both of these films feature a melodic, burbling synthesizer score (The Alien Factor by Kenneth Walker; Fiend by Paul Woznicki), so well done and so evocative of the time as to give me a super-warm fuzzy. See the My Castle of Quiet blog for a downloadable cinelogue audio excerpt from Fiend.

It's obvious that despite challenges of budget, Dohler and his crew worked hard to try and make good, entertaining movies, and, at least with Fiend, came pretty close to some metaphysical horror fan's ideal. Dohler is something of a legend, especially in his native Baltimore, and now I see why. Many thanks to James for the loan of the two-in-one DVD (released 2005), and for insisting that we give these bent pictures an eyeball.

Another Don Dohler film, Galaxy Invader, can be viewed or downloaded for free here via archive.org. There's also a well-reviewed and relatively new Dohler documentary, released on DVD earlier this year.

Sonic Boom, The History Of Northwest Rock From "Louie Louie" to "Smells Like Teen Spirit"

True, I usually write about the more progressive or esoteric corners of musical obscuria, but don't pigeonhole me! I do love me a good and simple three chord anthem.  I've just finished reading Peter Blecha's new book Sonic Boom, The History of Northwest Rock, from "Louie Louie" to "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and I'm jonesing to dig through my attic to find all my old "Garage Punk Unknowns", "Back From The Grave", "Teenage Shutdowns" and other similar comps.  The book, which focuses almost entirely on the inception of rock through the mid 60s, does a great job of making sense of the complicated scene that brought about greats like The Sonics (whose incredible second record, Boom, is the source of the book title), The Wailers, The Ventures, Paul Revere and the Raiders and, most famously, the Kingsmen.  And, perfect for FMU fans, all of the obscure, short lived bands and the hits that never were are documented in passionate detail. 

Peter Blecha attacks history from numerous angles.  He covers the racial impact of rock and roll.  He's got insider information on the publicists and marketers who made the deals that made the hits.  He's got behind the scene anecdotes from the bands.  For instance, in one of many sections on the Kingsmen's famous recording of "Louie, Louie", Blecha reveals that during the first take, the band's manager physically forced the recording engineer out of the studio.  During the second (and final) take, The Kingsmen did not even know that they were recording a final take.  They just thought they were running through the song for practice!  After hearing the playback, which The Kingsmen thought was absolute crap, the manager demanded that the band pay studio fees - when the band couldn't pay, one of their moms fronted the fifty bucks!  A good investment on her part, I must say...

The book doesn't have much coverage even of the late 60s - the way Blecha treats the subject, the late 60s were a time of decline rather than explosive growth.  As easy as it is to see where Blecha's allegiances lie, there's not much reason to discount his taste.  Sonic Boom is a par none document of the murky, little known events that bred one of rock and roll's strongest regional sounds.

"Edgar Varèse and the Jazzmen" (MP3s)

Today's post is something I stumbled upon in the dark and dusty corners of the Internet, a tape recording of composer Edgar Varèse conducting a workshop of Jazz musicians in the year 1957. Here is the original announcement of the MP3 release of these tapes.

Edgard Varèse conducts a workshop with jazzmen Art Farmer (trumpet), Hal McKusik (clarinet, alto sax), Teo Macero (tenor sax), Eddie Bert (trombone), Frank Rehak (trombone), Don Butterfield (tuba), Hall Overton (piano), Charlie Mingus (bass), Ed Shaughnessy (drums), probably John La Porta (alto sax)... We don't know who is on vibes...

It might be the first free jazz recording (totally unissued) of History of Music. Varèse might have influenced jazzmen or was he only aware of what was happening on the jazz scene? No matter of the answer, it's a bomb, as this music is 3 years earlier than Free Jazz by Ornette Coleman! We also know Charlie Parker wanted to study with Varèse in autumn 1954 but the composer flew to Europe to conduct Déserts. When he came back to New York in May 1955, Parker had already died. We also know that Varèse used to listen to John Coltrane at the Village.

Between March and August 1957, these Sunday jam-sessions were followed by arranger George Handy, journalist Robert Reisner, composers James Tenney, Earle Brown and John Cage, choreographer Merce Cunningham. The organizers were Earle Brown and Teo Macero who will become Miles Davis' producer among others. Varèse used certain extracts of the workshop for his Poème électronique.

The original of this tape is at Fondation Paul Sacher.

Please excuse the crappy audio quality, it is the best we have.

MP3s: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

A Memory With Trip Lane Doctor Down

A lot of comedy groups have flung open the mind's ramparts over the years and many have coerced this writer's style and approach but few like the Firesign Theater and littler still like the mad fresh improvisation done on their live radio programs in 1970 and '71.

Memorial Day, 2009

We live in the Land of the Free — because it's the Home of the Brave.

I don't know much about PFC Gerald J. Walker, except what it says on the plaque (at left), which is installed over a doorway in the weight room of the Hoboken YMCA. Next month he would have turned 60. He died at 20, in uniform.

Because of the memorial's placement, everyone who stops in for a workout is reminded of Gerard Walker's sacrifice. Amid the Cybex machines, barbell racks, and treadmills, it's a haunting memento.

The Y is closed for Memorial Day, but the plaque is on duty.

Some songs for Memorial Day (all posted as mp3):

Tan Sleeve: "American Blood" (2005, courtesy songwriter Lane Steinberg)

Bo Diddley: "Ain't It Good to Be Free" (1983)

Elton Britt: "There's A Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere" (1942)

Do something patriotic with your money today:

Soldier's Angels

Injured Marine Semper Fi Fund

Paralyzed Veterans of America

Welcome Back Veterans