Republishing this post from 2020, because today is Joe Strummer Day, and because the number of dubbatrubba blog readers has doubled in the past 2 years (going from two to four!).
From an old article by Brian Doyle, republished this week in The American Scholar:
Can I ask you a strange favor? On Monday night, December 22, go outside with your kids, or your friends, or your neighbors, and start a bonfire… And when it is going well, when it’s leaping and steady and warmer than you remember bonfires being, stand around it with your friends or your loved ones, and tell stories, and laugh, maybe have a beer, maybe even sing a little.
Mr. Doyle asked us for that favor because Joe Strummer (musician, singer, songwriter, co-founder of The Clash) died on December 22, 2002.
his favorite thing to do was gather friends and family and make bonfires and stand around the fire telling stories and laughing and singing.
Brian Doyle, in the article linked above.
My friend Kevin read the article recently, and was happy to oblige the request. He organized a firepit gathering at my neighbor Mark’s house on Tuesday night. We were a day late for Joe Strummer Day, but better late than never. It was a wonderful way to celebrate the spirit of a man who touched a lot of lives with his music and his stories.
I’ve read a lot of autobiographies from rock and rollers. Many of them include “the first time I met Joe Strummer” tales. And I’ve yet to read an unkind word about him. From all accounts, he was generous with his time, and liberal with his praise and encouragement.
Joe was only 50 when he passed away. The folks gathered around the fire on Tuesday have passed that milestone. I hope we’re able to keep Joe’s spirit burning brightly.
Think of it as a way to say hey to Joe Strummer, who was a good man, much missed; but think of it too as a way to honor what he cherished and savored in his own life: the way standing or sitting together matters, and telling stories matters, and laughing matters, and singing matters. That’s Joe Strummer’s true legacy, I think, more than the records he sold
Brian Doyle’s piece is quite short, and well worth the read. Mr. Doyle passed away in 2017. Like Joe, he left us with food for thought, with something to savor, with fond memories.
See you next December 22nd. Until then, keep the fire burning.
Raise a toast to Saint Joe Strummer I think he might have been our only decent teacher
Lyrics from “Constructive Summer” by The Hold Steady
If I had to pick one word to sum up this past Saturday’s Royal Crescent Mob concert, that word would be “joyous.”
Carlton’s smile can light up an entire venue. (Photo credit: Jon Calderas. Full gallery here.)
If I got to use two word to describe it, I’d use “joyous” and “sweaty.”
Joyous and sweaty were the hallmarks of any Royal Crescent Mob live show, back when they were a touring band, in the late 80s through the mid-90s. One of the best live bands in the entire world. Yes, a club band, with a mostly Midwestern fan base. But ask anyone who ever attended one of the RCMob shows and they will easily attest to the Mob’s punk ethos, their funk bona fides and their stellar showmanship. You had a 100% chance of leaving their shows feeling joyous and sweaty.
But it had been 28 years since the Royal Crescent Mob played together live. A lifetime ago. And now “lifetime” has a brand new meaning for the audience members, and especially the band members.
Time takes its toll on all of us. If we’re lucky, we manage to avoid cancer. In that department, the RC Mob has been decidedly unlucky. Lead singer David Ellison is being treated for prostate cancer. Lead guitarist Brian “B” Emch lost his wife to pancreatic cancer earlier this year. Drummer Carlton Smith has a rare form of brain cancer.
Rather than wallow in pity, the band decided to take their heaping helping of lemons and make lemonade… and sell it to raise funds for cancer research.
They played a fundraiser show in Columbus (their home base back in the day) on Friday, and Cincinnati (their second home, and strongest market, thanks in no small part to 97X radio station) on Saturday. Two shows in two nights. A limited engagement. Then again, life is a limited engagement.
It was a different kind of joyous this time around. For a couple of nights, for a couple of hours, they could focus on the music instead of mortality. So could their fans.
we’re four guys up there…and, you know, our audiences, our fan base is our age probably now. And it’s important for them to know there’s like, there’s this shitty thing about getting older, it’s like, things pop up. And, you know, I mean, hopefully we can raise some awareness about that as well. That’d be just extra special to be able to do that and it’s going to mean a lot for everybody to up on stage just to be playing together, that whole camaraderie.
The Royal Crescent Mob brought a ton of joy to thousands of people 30 years ago. It was so good to experience that joy once again. It makes life worth living.
And if I had to use three words to describe their show, those words would be: Joyous. Sweaty. Grateful.
Thank you B, David, Carlton and Happy. Take a bow. Because we’re all happy now.
“nonstop but fruitless efforts to fill the yawning chasm of his soul by seeking the attention of indifferent strangers.”
Andy Borowitz, in The New Yorker
Artist’s rendering of Elon
I probably shouldn’t be posting the entire piece from Andy Borowitz here. To make amends, I’ll mention that a subscription to The New Yorker is well worth the price (especially in Year 1, when they cut you a discount). There’s so much good content in every issue: news, features, fiction, cartoons, humor like the piece above, poetry…
In the “digital economy” I know people are used to getting their content for free. But keep in mind that most websites are siphoning your personal data and selling it to the highest bidder. So it only seems “free”… and you are the product. If you want to support quality writing, fork over a few bucks – the transaction is much more above-board. And go ahead and pay a bit more for the printed magazine… it’s a better experience, and easier on your eyes.
The only challenge I’ve found with my New Yorker subscription is that there’s so much great content in every issue that I’m constantly running a few weeks behind on my reading. A nice problem to have. Unless I break my glasses like ol’ Burgess Meredith in the Twilight Zone episode above.
We hate that we’re talking about Dan in the past tense.
53 years was all Dan got. He made the most of them, playing in a Grateful Dead-inspired jam band for 35 of them, alongside my wife’s cousin Mike, and carving out a great career at P&G.
Dan (in hat) with my mother-in-law, my wife’s aunt and my wife’s cousin Mike.
But you can be a musician and be a jerk. Or you can be a musician and be like Dan – kind, positive, sharing the love of music with the next generation.
Dan’s passing was sudden, and totally unexpected. He was supposed to fly back into town this weekend and play a gig with his band, Spookfloaters. Instead, his family and friends will gather in Colorado for a celebration of life.
“Celebration of life” – it’s something we should all do, every day. Dan sure did. Rest in peace, friend. We love you.
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
You done said…