Love Love Love...

Throughout the sixties, it was a yuletide tradition: a new Beatles album for under the Christmas tree. With The Beatles in 1963 (UK only), Beatles For Sale (1964, with Beatles '65 being released instead in America), Rubber Soul (1965), A Collection of Beatles Oldies... But Goldies (UK only, 1966), Magical Mystery Tour (1967), and The Beatles (White Album) (1968) were all timed for release at Christmastime.

Now, 38 years after the last Beatles Christmas album, we get Love - perhaps the closest we are going to get to a truly "new" Beatles album. Love, the soundtrack to the Beatles-based Cirque du Soleil show of the same name, is not merely a compilation or greatest hits package. George Martin (along with his son, Giles), having been given unfettered access to EMI's library of Beatles recordings, have mixed up a very fresh, very new, very modern-sounding Beatles album. To be sure, there are plenty of moments that sound very familiar (indeed, I'm not sure what changes were made to "Help!", except that the acoustic guitars sound crisper). But so much of Love sounds... well... new!

I ran out and bought the CD/DVD version on the day it was released, and waited to listen to it until we took off for Indiana. And so it was, at 4:15 on Thanksgiving morning, I popped Love into the car stereo.

Wow...

The first thing that grabs you is the sound quality. How on earth do tapes that are, on average, forty years old, sound so doggone good! And - amazingly - almost every sound on the album comes from a Beatles recording (exceptions: sirens before "I Am The Walrus"; new - and beautiful - George Martin string arrangement on the acoustic version of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"). There are moments one is left to wonder: where did all these sounds come from? Drums from here, backing vocals from there, guitars and sitars and tablas from everywhere converge and merge to create whole new sounds and audio surprises galore.

Love has moments of genius aplenty. The rhythm track from John's "Tomorrow Never Knows" marries perfectly to George's "Within You, Without You". Out of this mix fall drops of sound that gather together to form an incredible new mix of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" (which interpolates snipets of tape loop from "Tomorrow Never Knows" and horns from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"). Likewise, the mixing of "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!" with "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is an unexpected treat, and "Drive My Car / The Word / What You're Doing" is not a medley - it is a song all it's own.

"Strawberry Fields Forever" grows seamlessly from charmimg John Lennon home demo to take one to the more familiar (albeit much faster and more echoey) version Beatle fans know and love, ending in a controlled cacophony of Ringo's heavy drums with more "Sgt. Pepper" horns, the piano solo from "In My Life", "Penny Lane"'s picollo trumpet solo and the harpsichord from "Piggies" mixed in, closing with the ending of "Hello, Goodbye".

Perhaps the most charming moment of the disc comes with Ringo's "Octopus's Garden". The track opens with the strings from "Good Night" and sound effects from "Yellow Submarine", creating a beautiful, etherial opening before launching into the more rocking song we know from Abbey Road. However, more surprises are in store as the middle-eight launches into a bubbly double-time rhythm with unused vocals and exclamations from "Revolution 9" thrown in for good measure.

"Octopus's Garden" slips smoothly into the opening of "Sun King", which gives way to a quick, interesting, almost native sounding rhythmic intro (again - where did these sounds come from?) to "Lady Madonna" - another mix-up that features the guitar solo from "Hey Bulldog" and electric guitar that I believe comes from "While My Guitar Gently Weeps".

There are gorgeous moments as well. "Here Comes The Sun" is a lovely mix, incorporating percussion from "Within You Without You", crisper acoustic guitars, improved sound on the strings, and a beautifully remixed piece of "The Inner Light" as a closer. (This was the moment that nearly moved me to tears as I drove down I-94 in the pre-dawn hours of Thanksgiving morning.)

I'll stop here - I don't want to ruin all the surprises for you. But, when you get a chance to listen to Love, don't skip to "Hey Jude", "Eleanor Rigby" or "Get Back" because they may be your favorites. Love is a piece of work all its own, to be taken as a whole, in its entirety. This is a nearly eighty-minute work, cohesive and perfectly matched. Also... listen to Love with headphones. Otherwise you will miss the intricacies of the new mix of "A Day In The Life", as well as some of the sounds that are buried deeper in the mix. (You can actually hear the bass and guitar strings vibrate, as well as other sounds one misses when listening to "A Day In The Life" on their Sgt. Pepper CD. Likewise, the new stereo mix of "I Am The Walrus" - which does not slip into fake stereo when the Shakespeare radio broadcast begins - is amazing through earphones.)

Love has moments of beauty, freshness and surprise. Best of all, this CD is exactly what a Beatles CD should be: fun. Grab it and enjoy. Better yet, ask Santa to put it under your Christmas tree this year! And, if you've been extra good this year, maybe Saint Nick will leave the deluxe edition with the audio DVD, so you can experience Love in 5.1 surround sound.

Town of the Week

We have a new feature!

Each week (well, what I really mean is each week that I feel like it), the staff here at
Encephalon Noodle Salad will highlight a town for all to learn about and perhaps travel to some weekend.
If you have a town you would like us to spotlight, just leave us a comment.

This week's town: Gasconade, Missouri.

Population (2000): 267
Geographic size: 0.2 sq. miles
Location: where the Gasconade River meets the Missouri River
Time Zone: Central
Approximate travel time from Coushatta, Louisiana: 11 hours, 13 minutes if you take I-49 (as if there's any other way!)
Median age: 38.9 years old
Median income: around $27,000
Nearly 1/4 of all residents over age 15 have never been married.
Nearly 1/2 of all residents over age 15 are currently married.
Women outnumber men by about a 5:4 ratio (or, as the Beach Boys might sing, 1.25 girls for every boy. Which means Gasconade ain't exactly Surf City. Hard to hang ten in a cornfield).
Last major tornado in the area: May 1, 1983
Times Styx, REO Speedwagon or Creedence Clearwater Revisited have played there on reunion tour(s): 0
Items of historical interest: On Novemner 1, 1855, the wooden trestle on the Gasconade Bridge collapsed as a Union Pacific train crossed. 30 were killed, hundreds injured.
Civil War factoid: Confederate General Sterling Price raided Gasconade County on Oct. 3, 1864. The local Burger Chef never reopened after the raid.
Celebrities who never lived near Gasconade: Oprah Winfrey, Pee-Wee Herman, Mel Gibson.
Number of Starbucks Coffee shops: 0
Reason to go: ability to tell people, "I done went and been to Gascoade, Missouri!"

A Question

A train leaves Cleveland heading westbound at 65 MPH. In Las Cruces, another train leaves at precisely the same time, heading eastward at 70 MPH. At this rate of speed, how long will it take TBS to realize that nobody watches those old "Friends" episodes they rerun ad nauseum?

Middle-Aging Gracefully (or So Long, Flavor Saver!)

I was talking to my beautiful bride this morning about the rut I seem to be stuck in. We talked about my need to be happier, and she said to me the following: "I was looking at you this morning, and you look old." She explained that my moustache didn't help me appear any younger.

So I shaved it off.

And, as I gazed in the bathroom mirror, I made a discovery. It isn't the moustache that makes me look old. It's the hair growing out of my ears, nose and eyebrows that age my appearance.

My problem isn't my moustache - or my unruly eyebrows. My problem is - frankly - me. So, with the help of God above, I intend to find my happy place - fulfillment in life, use of the gifts God gave me, a change of mind, a change of heart, a change of pace. Like Sheryl Crow sings, a change will do me good.

I begin by shaving off the 'stach. Next step: retro bell-bottoms to attempt to recapture my long-past youth. (Okay... I'm kidding about the clothes. My wife would never let me become one who pathetically pines for the good old days. They weren't all that good anyway.)

Actually, I believe the next step is to lighten up and enjoy the moment. Have fun. Stop trying to control the uncontrolable (after all, how much of our lives is truly in our hands?) and laugh a little. Laugh a lot.

Maybe I'll bungee-jump my way out of my mid-life crisis. Or sky-dive. Nawwww... both could end up with me as a great big greasy splat. Maybe I'll just start living the life I was intended to live.

As soon as I figure it all out, I'll let you know.

Don't hold your breath on me figuring it all out, though.

BACK IN THE BLOG AGAIN...

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh................... it feels good to have time to blog again. The past few months have been a whirlwind of school work and homework and ministry work and work work... Very rewarding, but quite busy.

At least by my standards of busyness - standards I'm certain will change when Lily comes home next year.

Now school is over, and I actually have time to play.

And write.

So I am trying to resharpen my writing skills and get back to it.

So... let me pose this question to all y'all: I'm sure you've heard the Elton John song "Crocodile Rock". When I was eight or nine, I loved that song. Today it makes me squirm with self-conscious embarrassment (in much the same way an Adam Ant video would). I heard "Crocodile Rock" on the radio the other day for the first time in years, and one line leapt out at me. Is Elton singing "Susie went and left us for some foreign guy", or "Susie went Leftist for some foreign guy"? It certainly alters things if she did the latter.

Whadda YOU think?

Yes, Joshua, There Really Is A Spam Museum...

I phoned one of my eleven year old nephews, Joshua, who thought I was pulling his leg about there being a museum dedicated to Spam in Austin, MN. Well, here's the proof!



The outside of the hallowed halls of the King of All Canned Meat Products. Let's peak inside.



The pig doors



Mmmm... can't get enough of them canned ox joints... in gravy!



The canned entrance to the armed forces exhibit (Spam Goes To War)



Hey, Sarge! Pass the Spam! I'm all out of ammo!



My grandfather has now been immortalized at the place where all that Spam he digested in the South Pacific was canned. I'm not sure if he'd be please about this or not...



Hormel seems quite proud to have been featured so famously in a Monty Python sketch...



...and Python Broadway musical ("Spamalot"). My wife urged me to buy this "collector's item" at the Spam gift shop. At $5.00 per can, I was content to snap a photo.


The S.S. Spam at dry dock.


So, what did I learn at the Spam museum? Well... I learned that Spam is not an anagram for "Sparrow, Pigeon and Assorted Meats", but is actually pork, salt, water and pink food coloring.

I learned there are scads and oodles of recipes for Spam (including one from Hawaii that is a variation on sushi).

And I learned that Austin, MN, smells like a baked ham.

So, yes, Joshua... there really is a Spam museum.

This Week's Fake Horoscope

ARIES (March 21 - April 19)
Your mother gave you plenty of good advice as a child. Do not chew with your mouth open. Always put on clean underwear. Never tease an angry badger with shiny objects in your mouth. Heed all three of these warnings today, especially if you wear braces.

TAURUS (April 20 - May 20)
Bill Gates will today reveal the real reason he his retiring from his post at the helm of Microsoft. While he does truly intend to spend more time on his philanthropic enterprises, he will now fulfill a life-long dream: to own and operate a Church's Fried Chicken franchise in Redmond, Washington.

GEMINI (May 21 - June 21)
Travel somewhere exotic this weekend. A place with a name that's fun to pronounce. A place where sun-drenched beaches await you... a heavenly oasis of peace and tranquility... sunsets that last forever... Maybe Wakarusa, Indiana. Or Nitrate City, Alabama. Or Spongefart, Arkansas. (OK... there's not really a Spongefart, Arkansas.)

CANCER (June 22 - July 22)
Today is the day to buy a plot of land in Arkansas and settle your own town. You should name this town Spongefart. People will remember a name like that. Plus, it will look good on the exit sign off I-30. "Exit 73. Arkadelphia. Gum Springs. Spongefart."

LEO (July 23 - August 22)
Pat Robertson will announce today that he is retiring from television to fulfill his lifelong dream to own and operate a Church's Fried Chicken franchise near Ruchmond, Virginia.

VIRGO (August 23 - September 22)
Where in the world is Matt Lauer? He's heading to your house for dinner tonight. And he's bringing Bill O'Reilly with him. Go for the apricot-glazed pot roast with baby red potatoes and beet chutney. And don't mention Katie - you'll upset them both.

LIBRA (September 23 - October 22)
Tonight is a night for romance. But beware - while your lips may be saying "yes", your breath is saying "respirator mask". Gargle. Twice.

SCORPIO (October 23 - November 21)
Yes, that awful taste in your mouth is from a drinking binge the night before. No, the alcohol did not leave that taste. And, no, Snausages do not taste just like Jimmy Dean links - despite your drunken claims last night.

SAGITTARIUS (November 22 - December 21)
Katie Couric will reveal today that her claims of employment with CBS were all part of an elaborate rouse to get out of her contract with NBC. She is really fulfilling her lifelong dream to own and operate a Church's Fried Chicken in upstate New York.

CAPRICORN (December 22 - January 19)
Roses are red,
Violets are not,
The cops know the difference
Between ferns and pot.

Time to get out of the greenhouse business, Moonflower.

AQUARIUS (January 20 - February 18)
Your desire to learn French is commendable. However, you need to study harder, for today you will be embarrassed by a prankster friend who will put you up to visiting a local French-language bookstore and ask for a book about French culture, entitled L'odeur de mes aisselles est comme le maquereau et les oignons. Duck when the Marseille-born former boxer / bookseller throws a left hook at you.

PISCES (February 19 - March 20)
Former President Bill Clinton will let it be known today that he is moving back to his homestate of Arkansas. He will be giving up his duties as former president of the United States to pursue his lifelong dream to own and operate a Hooter's franchise. (You thought I was gonna say Church's Fried Chicken, didn't you?) While he will remained tightlipped about the exact location of his eatery, he will more than likely locate just off I-30, near the newly settled town of Spongefart.

Listophobe Seeks Help Reviving His Muse

I'm sitting here getting ready to write about the top ten reasons a purple nurple hurts worse than a cow bite when it dawned on me.

I've been doing a lot of list creating in this writing blog.

Don't believe me? Here are a few recent list-oriented blog entries:

• What's In My Wallet
• Obviouservations
• The Road to Klaipėda
• Excuses Excuses 101
• Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!
• Today's Trip To Cheapo's
• You've Got Zabar's!
• Indiana Towns Revisited
• 10 Reasons to Love Indiana

Wait! I just did it again! Another list!!!!

I gotta get into some real writing. I gotta reconnect with my muse!! I just keep writing about

• Indiana
• eggs
• bacon (which, sadly, Georgia will no longer have - she's gotten out of the pig business)
• Indiana
• fake horoscopes
• musicians
• Indiana
• places I've been
• food I've eaten
• Indiana...

Great googly moogly! I just did it yet again! Another list!!

So, how do I overcome this? How do I quit relying on enumeration and begin writing something more solid? Maybe I should

• spend more time on the craft of writing
• find a quiet spot to think a little deeper
• travel somewhere other than Indiana
• quit being lazy about my topics
• quit being lazy about my writing
• make honing my art a higher priority than Seinfeld reruns
• get my thoughts together
• get my act together
• spend less time on housework and more time writing (sorry, honey... just kidding!)
• slow down and savor my writing instead of hurriedly typing words
• learn to focus more on my writing
• remember to pick up milk at the store
• check the PO box on the way home
• finally install that new shower head (again, sorry, honey...)
• get my homework done
• step out of my comfort zone
• be more thankful
• be more productive
• be more sensitive

Geezaloo! I can't believe I just created another list! Please, someone, stop me before I list again!!!!

Maybe I need to go write in the Contemplative Encourager blog for a while. I don't list so much there. Perhaps this is because the Contemplative Encourager blog is

• more focused
• more purpose-driven
• more spiritual
• more...

Oh, I give up...

What's In Your Wallet?

A band of displaced Nordic seafares has just stormed into my office demanding to know the contents of my wallet.

Here goes:

• health insurance card
• dental insurance card
• auto insurance card
• several phone cards (pre-cell phone)
• valid driver's license
• obviously fake ID issued by Graceland with a photo of Elvis circa late-1950's (a more realistic depiction for me would have been Elvis circa mid-1970's, with fewer sequins and scarves).
• posed photo of a young Desi Arnaz wearing his best flaminco suit and brandishing a pair of maracas (I like to preface showing this pic off by telling people, "My wife says I've changed since we got married. What do you think?")
• Wurlitzer Organ donor card
• credit cards with friction burns across the magnetic stripe
• several no longer usable Subway stamp cards
• several no longer usable Subway stamps I never got around to sticking on the cards (although a few are now attached to the aforementioned Ricky Ricardo photo)
• 4 kyats in Burmese money (from my special op days)
• 75c in expired Funland tokens (also from my special op days - don't ask)
• Kroger savings card (nearest Kroger: at least two state lines away)
• Cheapo Records Frequent Buyer Card (don't I wish!)
• library card
• video rental card
• pet store shopper card
• Pan Am Airlines frequent flyer card (I should have used my miles on that magazine subscription!)
• three Bonus Burrito punch cards from Panchero's - each one partially stamped
• receipts
• four I.O.U.'s from a "friend" I haven't seen since 1989 (think I'll ever see him again?)
• five mayonnaise packets (real mayo, not that Miracle Whip stuff)
• four Splenda packets
• autographed photo of Charles Nelson Riley, taken when he was center square on Hollywood Squares (if you look to the left, you can almost make out Charlie Weaver's hat)
• that annoying little security tag that sets off the shoplifter alarm installed at every exit of every megastore I shop at
• 25c off coupon from McDonald's, announcing their newest sandwich, the McRib (coupon no longer valid)
• a moth
• wait... that's not a moth... I'm not sure what that it...
• a very small tract entitled "Sensible Thoughts of Hollywood Liberals"
• fake Mr. Spock ear-tip
• ticket stub from Airport '75
• more half-used punch cards
• no cash (except the Burmese money mentioned earlier)
• dust bunnies
• Gary Coleman

Needless to say, the Viking horde has left and is now hounding one of my co-workers.

Father Hennepin Comes To Town

Back in 1680, explorer Rene-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de LaSalle, sent his historian, Father Louis Hennepin, to discover the source of the Mississippi River. This means that, around three and a quarter centuries ago, Father Hennepin travelled through the Twin Cities. He is credited with discovering and naming St. Anthony Falls.

Now, I must admit, the falls must have been a spectacular sight to behold, before loggers and entrepreneurs practically destroyed them in the late 19th century. But I never realized just how fantastic this water feature was back in the 1680's. After all, Hennepin was so taken by this water fall that he absolutely ignore such sights as the IDS Tower, the Foshay Building, the Stone Arch Bridge, that huge spoon with a cherry in it...

Today, we celebrate our famous visitor from ages past with the Father Hennepin Festival. As celebrated in this annual event, Father Hennepin travelled with an entourage including carnival rides, skill games (if throwing a ring onto a tightly wedged array of pop bottles is a skill) and deep-fried food vendors. Which makes sense: Father Hennepin was probably too busy throwing up from the upsetting combination of corn dogs, cheese curds, cotton candy and Tilt-A-Whirl rides to notice the Target Building or the Metrodome. (Of course, not even the Minnesota state legislature seems to think much of the Dome.)

Two years prior to visiting Minneapolis, Father Hennepin - along with LaSalle - discovered Niagara Falls. It was here that LaSalle's party had to abandon their boat, the Maid of the Mist, when they discovered they could not get up the falls by ship. While there, Father Hennepin dined at the Hard Rock Cafe on the Canadian side of the falls. There's a framed photo of him munching on some Santa Fe Spring Rolls with Toronto-born singer / songwriter Neil Young, who was just beginning his career in 1678. It hangs bust above the gold record for Tavares' "More Than A Woman", and just below one of Madonna's many pointy leather bustierres. (This particularly uncomfortable piece of inappropriate outer wear has a tag sewn inside it that says, "Thursday".)

After walking the catacombs behind the falls, Father Hennepin and his party purchased a new sailing vessel from a local tribe of Native Americans for the price of seven beaver pelts, a barrel of gunpowder and a dozen box-seat season passes for the Buffalo Bills. They began to cross Lake Erie, only to discover the waters were so polluted they could not sail easily. (Their boat's rutters kepts getting hung up in beer cans, thick industrial waste, spent steel-belted tires and aquatic carcasses.) At Cleveland, they took in the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame, where Father Hennepin was heard to mutter, "I hope the Mississippi River goes to Hibbing so I can meet this Dylan fellow. His lyrics are so meaningful!"

From Cleveland, Hennepin's party travelled west, across the Ohio Turnpike and Indiana Toll Road, getting hung up in road work and heavy traffic in an attempt to get around Chicago on the Tri-State Tollway. (Historical fact: when you travel along I-94 and hit a particularly rough patch of pavement, chances are this is the original pavement Hennepin travelled on. Evidently, for historical reasons, several miles of original highway have been preserved across Illinois and Wisconsin, to the chagrin of many a flat-tired, suspension-shot motorist.)

Somewhere around Chicago, Father Hennepin unloaded his boat. He traded it for seven beaver pelts, a barrel of gunpowder, and scads of carnival equipment (including the aforementioned Tilt-A-Whirl). Legend has it this transaction took place near Niles, IL. However, there is no verifiable historical data to indicate Father Hennepin took the Tri-State any farther north than O'Hare Airport. He probably got his corn dog cookers and Tommy the Train rides somewhere around Alsip or Tinley Park.

While most would consider Father Hennepin's trip a legendary success, the Belgian-born, French-based priest felt not entirely fulfilled by his adventures. Despite his many great discoveries and incredible experiences, he found that the Mississippi River did not go to Hibbing, MN.

And he never got to meet Bob Dylan.

Upon his return to France, he set up his carnival attractions outside his cathedral near Pas-de-Calais and began raising funds for a new boat.

And a roof for the parsonage.

Thus was born the first church fundraiser - a tradition that continues more than three centuries later in churches around the world. It was at one of these early fetes that Father Louis Hennepin also adapted a dish he had eaten while in America by slicing potatoes into thin sticks and dropping them into one of his corn dog fryers. Heavily seasoned with salt, Father Hennepin called his haute cuisine finger food "French Fries". He sent some back to his friend Ray Kroc in America, and the rest, as they say, is history.

So, here's to Father Louis Hennepin - Fransiscan missionary, explorer, discoverer of St. Anthony Falls, fan of Bob Dylan and inventor of the French Fry. Think of him next time you puke after too much candy corn and Tilt-A-Whirl. Or hear "Like A Rolling Stone" on the radio. He would have liked that song. Although, I cannot help but wonder how he would have felt about Dylan going electric.

Goodbye Billy

In 1964, New York disc jockey Murray the K proclaimed himself "the Fifth Beatle". The monicker has since been given to many people closely associated with the Fab Four: producer George Martin, the late Stu Sutcliffe (who truly was the fifth Beatle - there were literally five band member when he was a Beatle), former drummer Pete Best, Brian Epstein...

Today, we mark the passing of perhaps the most deserving person to hold the title "Fifth Beatle". Keyboardist Billy Preston passed away today after a prolonged battle with kidnet failure. He was 59.

In the 1960's and 70's, Billy Preston had several hits, including "Will It Go Round In Circles", "Nothing From Nothing", "That's The Way God Planned It", "Billy's Bag" and "Outa Space" (which won him a Grammy).

Even if the name Billy Preston doesn't immediately ring a bell with you, his organ playing will. You have undoubtedly heard Billy's work, even if you weren't aware of it. He wrote "You Are So Beautiful", a song made classic by Joe Cocker.

Billy also appeared as the most famous sideman The Beatles ever employed (indeed, he was even given equal credit on their "Get Back" single). He appeared on their last two albums, Abbey Road and Let It Be, and it's Billy's handiwork you hear on such classics as "Something", "The Long And Winding Road", "Don't Let Me Down", "Come Together", and the aforemetioned "Let It Be" and "Get Back". Likewise, Billy appeared on a great number of John, George and Ringo's solo albums. If you hear an organ on one of their 1970's solo hits, chances are you're hearing Billy Preston. He also appeared at The Concert for Bangla Desh and, more recently, The Concert for George. (He also had a role in the awful Bee Gees movie Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in 1978 - a gig he probably would rather not include on his otherwise impressive resume).

But, The Beatles weren't the only band Billy played with. He toured and recorded with The Rolling Stones throughout the 1970's, and can be heard on their classic hit "Miss You", as well as all their 1970's albums. Along with The Stones, he appeared on Eric Clapton's No Reason To Cry, Bob Dylan's classic Blood On The Tracks (including the hit "Tangled Up In Blue"), several hits by Sly & The Family Stone, and - most recently and amazingly - the latest Neil Diamond and Red Hot Chili Peppers discs. Billy was also the first ever musical guest on NBC's Saturday Night Live in 1975.

Billy's career began at age 10, playing organ for gospel singer Mahalia Jackson in 1956. Two years later he played a young W.C Handy in the 1958 film St. Louis Blues. In the early and mid-1960's, he played with Little Richard and James Brown, and appeared regularly on ABC-TV's pop music program Shindig.

I had the privilege of seeing Billy Preston back in 1989, when he played as part Ringo Starr's first All-Starr Band. Billy's showmanship was fantastic, and he had no trouble holding his own with the likes of Joe Walsh, Clarence Clemons, Dr. John, and The Band's Rick Danko and Levon Helm (whom I had the pleasure of meeting before the show).

The music world will certainly be a sadder place without Billy Preston.

Obviouservations

One of my favorite Pete Townshend songs is entitled "Misunderstood" (from the album Rough Mix, Atco, 1977). In it, the Who guitarist / songwriter sings about how badly he wants to be deep and impressive with his words. (Somehow I doubt this was in the forefront of his thoughts while penning "Happy Jack" or those goofy fake adverts on The Who Sell Out - my fave Who LP.)

I know how Pete feels. I always want to be impressive in what I say (or write). Unfortunately, what seem like wry perceptions and deep cognitions at the time of writing end up being, more often than not, obviouservations - conclusions that require not special gifts of cognition and could be drawn by any multi-celled being or regular watcher of The Jerry Springer Show.

My thoughts are not deep. Indeed, most of my musings will never make it out of the kiddie pool. They are not even tall enough to reach the bottom of the outstretched hand of the life-sized Officer Bob cut-out at the amusement park.

Like, right now. I'm sitting outside on our lovely patio, which my beautiful wife has made into a relaxing, quaint little garden. It's 9:45 pm, the sun is all but gone but the sky is still deep azure blue to the north. Crickets provide the background music - as done the Media Player on the laptop (currently playing: "One Hit Wonder" by Keller Williams). Jennie is sitting across the glass-top table from me, knitting another blanket for Lily. Our young neighbors have just come home, and are also outside enjoying this most perfect of late spring evenings.

Now... in that paragraph lies the seeds of a multitude of opportunities for deep-word mining. Possible topics I could launch from the above paragraph:
The Joys of Long Minnesota Summer Evenings
The Joys of Patio Greenery
10 Tips for Greening Up Your Cozy Little Patio
The Beauty of Pollution (after all, it's all those greenhouse gases and anti-perspirant propellants floating above us that make our sky so royal blue)
If I Rub My Legs Together Fast Enough, Will I Recreate the Sound of Crickets (or just end up with friction burns on my thighs?)
Why I Love My Media Player
Why You Should Love Your Media Player
Media Players and the Nerds Who Love Them
Media Players and the Nerds Who Hate All Things Microsoft
How Binary Code Makes Keller Williams Come Out Of My Computer Speakers
Who is Keller Williams?
Why Listen to Indie Music?
Lily, Come Home!
The Joys of Chinese Adoption (OK... the joys will come later...)
The Stress of Adoption (that's more in line with our experience thus far!)
Ahhh... To Be Young Again!

I could go on. But, as you can see, no matter how far I go, I get no closer to the deep end. Just keep going round and round in the shallow water.

And - here's some irony for you - I just clicked over to the thesaurus website I use when I write, and there before me flashed a pop-up ad: "CHANCE TO WIN A VACUUM!" I think I'll pass on that. I create enough vacuum with my writing.

Or maybe the word is suction.

Actually, I just read earlier this evening about how many of the great writers deal / dealt with painful self-esteem issues. Even the great F. Scott Fitzgerald questioned the worthiness of The Great Gatsby, his best known work.

But I'm not F. Scott Fitzgerald.

And this is no Great Gatsby. It isn't even Mediocre Gatsby.

Time for another lap. I think I can outswim that little fourth grader in the Spiderman trunks - the kid that won't let go of the side of the kiddie pool.

Rock Me, Amadeus!

Recently I have been listening to a lot of classical music. It's relaxing, calming... helps me focus. I have grown particularly fond of Mozart.

At least I think those toe-tappers are Mozart.

See, I listen to classical, but I do not have the full "Music Appreciation 101" experience. There are people who are really into their classical music, who know all the facts about the composers and their symphonies, or how to pronounce Offenbach or Chopin (it's sho-PAN, not CHOP-in). Heck, I don't even know my adagio from a nonet.

Maybe this is part of the reason I've always preferred pop music. There's not so much information involved in enjoying it.

But, wait... it occurs to me that, for a form of music that needs so little knowledge, I know an awful lot of useless rock knowledge. For instance, I may not know anything about Beethoven beyond the fact that he went deaf, but I know that The Rolling Stones' Aftermath LP (released in 1966) has different track listings in the US and UK (US version includes "Paint It, Black"; UK version includes "Mother's Little Helper" and "Out Of Time", which wasn't released in America for a year until an edited version was included in the US-only hodge-podge compilation Flowers. The full-length version of "Out Of Time" wasn't issued in the States until two or three years ago.)

I know The Beatles recorded the bulk of their first album, Please Please Me, in one day in 1963. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, their psychedelic magnum opus, took more like seven months in 1966-1967. Also, Leo Gorcey, Mahatma Gandhi and Adolf Hitler were originally on the cover of Sgt. Pepper, only to be removed to avoid paying the former Bowrey Boy, and to not offend both the population of the subcontinent of India, and most of the civilized world.

I know Roy Harper is the vocalist on Pink Floyd's "Have A Cigar" (from 1975's Wish You Were Here) because Roger Waters had throat problems and couldn't sing the day of recording.

I know The Toys' "A Lover's Concerto" (1965) was based on Bach's "Minuet in G". But I only know that because I've seen Mr. Holland's Opus - a fact that also helps explain why I know about Beethoven's deafness.

Hmmm... so which is more important? Knowing that Böhm influenced Bach? Or knowing that Dylan influenced The Beatles, The Byrds and practically every pop performer in the mid-1960's? In the end, it's all fairly trivial information. And while pop music should be unpretentious by nature, not knowing every detail about Handel or Rachmaninov is what makes my pleasure of classical music strictly aural. I can relax with a smooth symphony without wondering whether it was composed in Leipzig or London, or how mad the composer went trying to hammer out the fine details of his work.

Maybe I should just pop my Gorillaz CD in and forget the whole thing.

The Road to Klaipėda

10 Reasons to Visit Lithuania:

1. Rare opportunity to surf the Baltic Sea
2. Figure out why women 65 and older outnumber men in the same age group by nearly 2:1
3. Visit the home where Charles Bronson's dad grew up
4. Meals are still family affairs, with no one leaving the table until all are done eating
5. No reality TV
6. The nearest McDonald's is somewhere in Poland
7. It is the geographical center of Europe
8. One-third of the country is forested!
9. The capital, Vilnius, is almost 700 years old
10. The rural speed limit is 130 km/h seven months out of the year (that's almost 81 mph to you and me!)
11. Bob Hope and Bing Crosby (with Dorothy Lamour, of course) had planned a Lithuanian road movie, The Road to Klaipėda, in 1955. However, traveling buddy films to Soviet-occupied states just aren't so funny. And neither wanted McCarthy to blacklist them.

OK, that last one is a fabrication. Still, a country that is over 240 miles and an international border away from the nearest Golden Arches has got to be worth getting away to!

A Parents' Guide To The Beatles - Part One, The White Album

So... you say your kid's been listneing to that awful hip-hop and grunge noise again, and you just don't know what to do? Here's a thought, moms and dads. Buy 'em The Beatles - better known as The White Album. Why? Well... for one, The Fabs don't sing about gangstas or rape or murder or poppin' caps. They sing about peace and love - not in an overtly hippie Donovan sort of manner, but honestly, with a sound that is strangely contemporary for a set of recordings that will turn 38 years old this year. (The only other album from 1968 to even come close to standing the test of time is The Rolling Stones' Beggars Banquet.) Besides, DJ Modest Mouse produced the incredibly popular (and notoriously letigious) The Gray Album a couple of years back - a mash up of Jay-Z's The Black Album and The White Album , proving The Beatles still contains plenty of hip.

So much of what passes for popular music today is just corporate sameness, track one sounding like tracks two, three, four, etc... etc... This is not a trend started by The Beatles. Indeed, all of their later albums have a great variety of sound - none moreso than The White Album. From the opening jet take-off of "Back in the U.S.S.R." to the closing strings of "Good Night", The Beatles serves up over ninety-minutes of variety - recordings so varied that it is hard to believe only four guys created this double-disc masterpiece.

If your kid likes rock and roll, The Beatles delivers the goods: The Beach Boys parodied fun of the aforementioned "Back in the U.S.S.R."; Paul's nonsensical "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?"; the rollicking "Birthday"; George's ode to a box of chocolates, "Savoy Truffle"; or the funky nonsense of "Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey" - a song my nephews loved when they were much younger.

Is your son looking for the perfect love song to woo that young lady he wants to ask to the dance? "I Will" is architypal McCartney ballad, and a lovely song. George's "Long, Long, Long" is hauntingly beautiful, and proof that a pop recording need not be perfect to be wonderful (the rattling wine bottle at the end of the song being accidental).

If your young one is socially conscious, well... look no further than Paul's "Blackbird". Or John's "Revolution 1" (the "slow", smooth version of the much faster "Revolution"). Or George's humorous "Piggies", with it's combination of real swine and faux-Beatle grunts and squeals.

How about country music? Have them try "Rocky Raccoon" or Ringo's charming "Don't Pass Me By." (Note: the fiddler on "Don't Pass Me By", very sadly, passed away just a few days ago. He had once claimed to be embarrassed by the end of this recording, as he was just busking about, not knowing the tape was running while he - pardon the pun - fiddled around).

Heavy Metal? "Helter Skelter".

Acoustic? Try "unplugged" tracks like the gorgeous "Mother Nature's Son", "Julia" (quite possibly the most beautiful thing John Lennon ever recorded), "Blackbird" or "I Will".

Blues? Ah... John Lennon created a fine slice of white-man blues with "Yer Blues". And, in what is perhaps the high moment of The White Album, uncredited guest star and blues guitar virtuso Eric Clapton let's the strings cry on George's classic and beautiful signature tune, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." (Trivia: Clapton's guitar track was heavily flanged by the engineers' wobbling the speed control knob on the tape machine, because Clapton felt his playing wasn't Beatley enough.)

On The Beatles, John Lennon finally comes into his own, developing a trend toward personal self-expression he had begun three years earlier with "Help!", and would culminate two years later on his solo John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band. Songs like "I'm So Tired", "Happiness is a Warm Gun" and "Julia" show Lennon growing as a songwriter. John also shares memories of the recent trip The Beatles made to the Maharishi's ahram in India with "Dear Prudence" (written for Mia Farrow's reclusive sister), the humorous fiction of "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill", and the barely veiled bitterness / sarcasm of "Sexy Sadie" (originally entitled "Maharishi").

Lennon also gives us a brief recent history of the Beatles: "Glass Onion", which also answers all those absurd diggers looking for clues to great mysteries alledgedly hidden in Beatles recordings and album sleeves. And "Cry Baby Cry", a quasi-nursery rhyme little tune.

John also provides The White Album's least popular (although aurally interesting) eight-and-a-half minutes. "Revolution 9" is not a song, but rather an audio collage created by John and bride-to-be Yoko Ono, along with help from George Harrison. Heard in the track are a discussion betwen producer George Martin and Apple assistant Alistair Taylor; football crowd chants (panned from left to right and back again across the stereo field); John and George speaking out names of dances and other absurdities; and backwards, sped up and altered outtakes from "Back In The U.S.S.R.", "Revolution 1" and the orchestral overdub from Sgt. Pepper's "A Day in the Life".

Paul also provides a moment of strangeness with "Wild Honey Pie". However, he also provides The Beatles' sweeter moments: "Martha My Dear", the sticky nostalgia of "Honey Pie", and the classically saccharine "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da".

From the sugary pop of Paul McCartney to the brutal honesty of John Lennon to the developing creativity of George Harrison to the charm of charming Ringo Starr, The White Album is the epitome of what an album should be: masterful, warm, varied and entertaining. This is a fun album, overflowing with originality and top-notch performances.

If you really want to give your kids the full White Album experience, find them a great condition vinyl copy of the album - with the poster and 8x10's of each Beatle. Maybe spend the extra dough for an original, individually numbered copy. Although, CDs will transfer much better to an iPod.

Race Day Thoughts and Reflections

It's Indy 500 Race Day, and I'm enjoying a relaxing Sunday of multitasking. I'm watching the race, cooking dinner for friends who are coming over tonight, and blogging.

I love the 500. For me, it's a connection to home. Last weekend, when we were lunching at an Irish pub called The Local, we saw some ex-patriot Irishmen watching - rather, reveling - in a satellite broadcast of a football game from home. I have an idea how they feel, connecting via the flickering TV screen with home.

Some of you may be thinking, "If the Indy 500 is so wonderful, why multitask? Why would you walk away from the TV to go into the kitchen and cook? Or sit an block while Danica Patrick races her way upward in the standings?" Well... I think many Hoosiers would agree with me - the Indy 500 is a sport best served on radio. Maybe its because I've listened to more races than I've watched in my life. Indeed, I have a childhood memory of picnicing in our backyard while listening to the 500 on WTHI AM radio.

It's comforting to see so many last names from childhood (Unser, Andretti, Foyt). 19-year old Marco Andretti worries me. It's nothing personal. Simply: 19-year-olds worry me when they drive on I-465, let alone the 500. (Although, based on the last time I drove on the loop around Indianapolis, many drivers seem to confuse I-465 with the Brickyard).

Some poor race fan got smacked by racecar debris. Some things never change. It seems there is always some poor spectator getting smacked by flying auto parts.

You may be wondering what I'm fixing for supper. Well, considering the unnatural heat outside, we're keeping it cool tonight: grilled chicken salad, pasta salad and watermelon balls. I tried to copy my Grandma Courtney's recipe for pasta salad, a fixture at every Courtney family get together. However, I had to add my own twist: Tahitian Lime Vinegrette. I dunno if Grandma would be proud of me or not - that's an awfully austentatious ingredient. Still, my pasta salad ended up tasting a lot like hers, which makes me very salad. (Maybe I found her secret ingredient after all! Of course, I doubt IGA in Brazil Indiana carried Tahitian Lime Vinegrette, especially back in 1975).

Gotta run - the chicken has cooled. Time to chop and mix.

The Times They Are A-Changin' (and The Bard He Is A-Agin')

It doesn't seem right. I mean, the man is still hip! He's the host of his own satellite radio show. He still packs 'em in when he goes on tour. He may no longer write about rainy days in Juarez, rainy day women, diplomats riding on chrome horses, the Queens of Hearts (or Spades), or apocryphal encounters between God and Abraham, but the man is still goin' strong.

And tomorrow - are you sitting down? - is Bob Dylan's 65th birthday. He can finally retire and start collecting Social Security, if he so chooses. (I doubt he needs the extra income.)

In his hometown, they were hoping the birthday boy would bring it all back home to Hibbing MN (he probably won't). All the same, the local folk celebrated with a "bash" last Thursday night. (No, I didn't attend, although I would have loved to. Hibbing is a mere 3-1/2 hours north of here, and Thursday was a school night.)

Here at Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad, we'll be spinning his best: Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde On Blonde, Planet Waves, Blood On The Tracks... I wish I still had a copy of his classic live double-disc set with The Band, Before The Flood. (My copy was on cassette which, as most tapes eventually do, bit the dust a few years back. I'm far too cheap to shell out $30+ for a new copy on CD.)

So, tomorrow, wish Bob a Happy 65th Birthday. And when that classic rock radio station you listen to at work plays "Like A Rolling Stone" or "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" (sandwiched between unhealthy overdoses of Styx, Boston and Led Zeppelin), turn it up a bit. But not too much. Some folks' ears still haven't adapted to that nasal Iron Range voice.

Some Sketchbooks Age Like Fine Wine

When I was younger, I was far more creative than I am now. Is this because the creative muse has left me? No, not at all. I've just let myself get rusty. The muse is not silent - just briefly muted.

I dug around and found a hardbound sketchbook I had bought in Illinois back in 1996 (or before). When I purchased the thing at Border's (or was it Barnes and Noble?), I set it aside. I preferred spiral-bound sketchbooks - they open up wider and are far easier to use.

Today, after a decade - and with one page filled in 1996 with lousy scribbles (simply a test of a new drawing pen, not any sort of artistic expression) - I began creating in this old discarded sketchbook. My goal is to fill it by the end of the year with ideas, drawings, writings, doodlings, noodlings, impressions, expressions and all manner of creative output.

I have a vague notion of what this book will be when finished. I have a feeling it will end up something totally different.

"Unorthodox Taxidermy" From Whoville

Unorthodox taxidermy indeed! Our morning in downtown Minneapolis included a visit to Jean Stephen Galleries. Here we discovered an exhibit of works by the one and only Dr. Seuss.



I used to have a big anthology of Dr. Seuss's work. I say used to because his pre-children's work was a tad too surprisingly xenophobic for my taste. Still, as a child of the late sixties and seventies, I have a familiar happy connection with such oddities as green eggs and ham and Grinches and Zaxes and Loraxes and Red Fish and Blue Fish and all the Whos down in Whoville...



So seeing the handiwork of Theodore Geisel up close and before me was quite a treat for my inner child. Although much of what hung on the walls were prints, there were a few sketches and originals. And, of course, those pieces of "unorthodox taxidermy".



The trip to Minneapolis was intended to help spark some creativity. This trip to Jean Stephens Gallery certainly helped.

Don't Knock It 'Till You've Tried It!

From top: blood pudding and white pudding, scrambled eggs, baked beans, Irish bacon, wheaten toast

I had my first Irish breakfast back in 1998, at McNally's Irish Pub in St. Charles, IL. I haven't had it since.

Until today, that is.

A Saturday morning outting in downtown Minneapolis culminated in a delicious brunch at The Local at 10th and Nicollet.

Irish bacon is not nearly as salty as our bacon. The texture is a cross between bacon and ham. Delicious! Better yet, the dark and light pudding. Once you get beyond the chief ingredient in the dark pudding - pork and / or beef blood - the flavor is wonderfully mellow. (If you cannot stomach the idea of blood pudding, try the white pudding, which has no blood in it.)




















Fried Red Potatoes and Banger Sausage

Irish sausage (or Bangers) are also wonderfully mellow in flavor, not nearly as salty as American or German sausages. The texture is also much softer. The Claddagh serves a wonderful dish of bangers served over garlic mashed potatoes with a rosemary demiglaze. (There are plenty of Claddagh's in Minnesota, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, Georgia and Kentucky. Go have a plate of bangers and mashed and thank me later!)

I'll have to do brunch at The Local again. Next time, I'll have what my beautiful wife had: fish and chips.