Adrian Belew is widely regarded as one of the best and most innovative guitarists in rock music. He recorded and toured with Frank Zappa, then the Talking Heads, then David Bowie. He led the prog rock band King Crimson for decades.. and he’s had an acclaimed solo career.
When he was in his teens and 20s, Adrian spent several years playing in cover bands, first in Cincinnati and later in Nashville. Years… not months. He easily could’ve given up. He certainly thought about it. But instead he stuck with it. He played the cover band gigs to make a living, but he used the rest of his time to focus on getting better at playing and songwriting.
When no one else believes in you, you have to believe in yourself.
The story of how Adrian became part of Frank Zappa’s band is the stuff of legend. How many other guitarists have been discovered because of a chauffeur? But if he hadn’t been playing that cover band gig, it never would’ve happened.
Success doesn’t happen overnight. It happens because you put in the work. One gig at a time.
I like weird music. Well, “weird” to most people. Certainly the bands I love are well outside the mainstream. I’m good with that.
Because my tastes tend toward the obscure, most of the live concerts I attend have a small-but-mighty crowd. (I’ve been to gigs where the people on stage outnumbered the audience.)
Believe it or not, there are other folks who share my musical tastes. You start noticing the same faces at shows. And for a long stretch in the late 90s and early 2000s, it seemed like every show I went to — especially singer-songwriters shows– I’d see the same older dude with a ponytail. The Venn diagram of our musical tastes overlapped significantly.
So I finally introduced myself to him, and every show after that, we’d compare notes on new albums we liked and upcoming shows on our radar. His name was Bob Gregory (I called him “Hippie Bob”), and he taught photography at Sycamore High School in suburban Cincinnati for decades before retiring to a life of going to sparsely-attended shows and being bothered by some music nerd (c’est moi!). He was a sweet dude, soft-spoken, funny, and kind.
The last time I saw Hippie Bob at a concert, several years ago, he was having some health issues and wasn’t able to attend as many shows as he’d like to.
I’m now at the age where I follow the Carl Reiner morning ritual:
“Every morning before having breakfast, I pick up my newspaper, get the obituary section, and see if I’m listed. If I’m not, I’ll have my breakfast.”.
Carl Reiner
Last Sunday I read that Hippie Bob had passed away earlier this month at the age of 82.
We weren’t exactly buddies. Just kindred spirits. But I always enjoyed catching up with Hippie Bob. The world could use more people like him, not fewer. R.I.P. my music friend.
When I was six, I wanted to be an astronaut. I mean, what boy didn’t during the height of the space race?
By the time I was 10, the dream had changed from outer space to airwaves: I wanted to be on the radio. Playing music. Cracking jokes. Writing theater-of-the-mind skits. Doing goofy character voices.
Radio was classy once…
It’s why I majored in Communications (with a concentration in Radio/TV) in college. It’s why I took an entry level job scheduling the commercials at a crappy AM station (R.I.P. “all oldies, all the time, 1230 AM WDJO”) – because it was a “foot in the door.”
So young… and so naïve
It’s why I worked weekend overnight shifts at a country station, where my assigned on-air name was “Cincinnati Redd” and I played music I didn’t really like in the wee small hours – because it was a chance to get some experience.
It’s why I made the hour-long drive from Cincinnati to Oxford, Ohio on the weekends, to play music I did like for an even smaller audience. It’s why I came back to that station a few years later, and worked the overnight shift, making less than minimum wage – because I was chasing the dream.
It’s why I left an on-air gig at the station in Oxford to be an errand boy at a group of stations in Cincinnati… because it too was a “foot in the door.” I wound up working for a radio legend, Gary Burbank, on a 50,000-watt clear channel station, on a show that was syndicated to dozens of other stations around the country . Cracking jokes. Writing theater-of-the-mind skits. Doing goofy character voices. The dream came true. But it happened 10 years too late.
This 60-second snippet from a great podcast called The Memory Palace sums up why the dream died:
When the corporations took over the mom and pop stations, they sucked all the fun out of it. And they killed a lot of dreams.
I still miss radio – but really I miss the idea of radio… radio as it was once, not radio as it is. Sure, there are podcasts, and there’s Spotify. It’s not the same. Never will be. Radio was ethereal… and that made it magical.
Please listen to the entire The Memory Palace episode from 2017. It’s a brilliant tribute to a lost station, and a loss of innocence. There are clear parallels to 97X, the station where I worked in Oxford, Ohio… which was bought out by a corporation and now is a Spanish language station.
The entire series is well-worth a listen – you’ll find all of The Memory Palace episodes here. Host Nate DiMeo has a gift for audio storytelling, and for uncovering hidden gems from history.
“The Memory Palace podcast is among the most potent pieces of audio being produced today; the show’s short tales are so emotionally concentrated that, upon listening, they bloom in the space between one’s ears, like a single drop of dye propagating through an entire glass of water. Nate DiMeo, the show’s sole creative force, often seems to be operating on a level wholly separate from that of other podcasts”
I’m allergic to Excel spreadsheets. I’m a right brain, “outside the box” thinker, and Excel is nothing but boxes – row after row, column after column, constricting my weirdly-wired brain.
The Excel spreadsheet below is the exception to the rule. Instead of breaking out in hives, I break out in a big smile when I see it. Probably because it has nothing to do with “Objectives and Key Results” and “long-range planning”… and everything to do with fun and frivolity:
This is the list of the monthly happy hours — a.k.a. “Hoppy Hours” — that my Xavier University buddies and I have been organizing for nigh on two years now. I’ve posted about these gatherings before. The host picks a local brewery as the venue – and picks up the tab that month. Not everyone can make each month’s gathering, but the turnout is typically 6-10 guys.
The monthly meet-up has been an unmitigated success. A chance to connect, chew the fat and sip some suds. Laughter is always on the menu. (It’s also worth noting that nearly all of the venues are locally owned and operated establishments… so we’re stimulating the local economy. )
(BrewDog is a chain… but it’s also a B Corp)
The host names on the list may not mean much to you, but they mean the world to me. We’ve all made enough circles around the sun to realize that friendship is totally worth a fat bar tab once or twice a year. Cheers to my fellow Xavier Musketeers!
This past weekend, Mrs. Dubbatrubba and I attended a fundraiser concert with our neighbors. The show was called “The Cancer Journey.” (Note to the fundraiser organizers: you’re not exactly “selling the sizzle”… or selling a ton of tickets… with a name like that.)
The reason “Journey” was in the title was because Kevin Chalfant was sitting in with the cover band. Never heard of Kevin Chalfant? Neither had I. So I did some exhaustive research (a.ka. “checking Wikipedia”).
It turns out that Kevin was a rock star. But not quite a big of a rock star as he might’ve been. He was the lead singer of a band called 707 that had a rock hit with “Mega Force” back in 1982. In 1990, he teamed up with a few former (and future) members of Journey, Ross Valory, Gregg Rolle, and Steve Smith, in a band called The Storm.
Yep, that’s rock star hair…
Released by Interscope Records in late 1991, The Storm hit the album charts and the band’s first single, “I’ve Got A Lot To Learn About Love” surged well into the Top 40 of the Billboard Hot 100. Faring even better at Mainstream Rock radio, the single peaked at No. 6 on the national Billboard charts, and its follow-up, “Show Me The Way” went to No. 22. That spring, the band went on a major US tour in support of Bryan Adams, then at his commercial peak, and playing arenas, moving on to open for Peter Frampton, as well as several headlining dates.
Wow, two hit songs and tours in front of big crowds… but that’s when fate intervened for the first time:
When it came time to release the second Storm album in 1993, however, the band found their label, Interscope, entrenched in the burgeoning rap scene. The band’s second album, The Eye of the Storm, did not find label release until 1996, and by then the winds powering The Storm had died out.
Ibid… and nice “winds powering The Storm” line…
But fear not — Kevin’s connection with the Journey dudes was about to pay off.
By 1993, Journey had been on a nearly seven-year hiatus, and the late-70s lineup was poised to regroup, minus singer Steve Perry, who was in the midst of working on a second solo album. Chalfant stepped in to tackle Perry’s parts for a live performance in October 1993 for a Herbie Herbert roast at Bimbo’s in San Francisco, he performed five songs with Neal Schon, Jonathan Cain, Gregg Rolie, Ross Valory, Steve Smith and Aynsley Dunbar at a roast for manager Herbie Herbert.[24]. Chalfant proved to be a good fit and was invited to formally join the band. Chalfant then began writing material in 1994 with Rolie, Neal Schon, and Jonathan Cain in anticipation of a full album and tour.
Same Wiki entry as above
Wow, things are looking up for our friend Kevin. He’s about to become the lead singer for Journey…
By 1995, however Steve Perry had returned for a brief, Grammy-nominated reunion of their early-80s lineup instead, leaving Chalfant suddenly on his own again.
Wow, talk about the mother of all bait-and-switches.
Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’ / Don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow
So the reformulated Journey keeps on filling arenas and outdoor sheds — with, it should be noted, a lead singer they found on YouTube — and Kevin Chalfant plays casinos and fundraisers with his “Journey Experience” show.
The dude has chops too.
The misquote of Hunter S. Thompson really does apply here.
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There’s also a negative side.
During his on stage patter, Kevin Chalfant referenced his faith. He seemed happy. At peace. Even though he and his old Journey buddies went separate ways.
If you must go / I wish you luck
Joourney “Separate Ways”
Even though “The Cancer Journey” is a terrible name for a concert, it raised funds for a great organization. Cincinnati Cancer Advisors is a non-profit that offers free second opinions to cancer patients.
Cincinnati Cancer Advisors exists to improve the care of cancer patients seeking a second opinion so that they walk away with a thorough understanding of their diagnosis and confidence in their plan of care.
So they give cancer patients more reasons to…. yes, you guessed it… Don’t Stop Believin’.
Dani (rhymes with “Sunny”) Isaacsohn won the Democratic primary for Ohio State Representative in District 24 this past Tuesday. That’s my home district, and because it’s roughly 2/3 Democratic, Dani has a very strong chance of winning the November general election.
Only 8.4% of eligible voters cast ballots. Granted, some of that apathy is because it was an unusual second primary, in the dog days of summer… and that happened due to some voting map shenanigans by Dani’s future counterparts across the aisle. But due to the paltry turnout, Dani only needed to get nearly 3600 people to vote for him. Actually, in hindsight, he would’ve only needed 800 votes.
Those results may make it seem like Dani was a lock, but that’s not the case at all. Dale Mallory had name recognition out the wazoo, and sometimes — especially when there’s low turnout — that’s all you need.
Mallory’s father, William Mallory, Sr., served 28 years in the Ohio General Assembly and became the first Black majority floor leader. His brothers are former state legislator and former Cincinnati mayor Mark Mallory, municipal court judges Dwane and William Mallory Jr., and Cincinnati NAACP president Joe Mallory.
I met Dani at a “voteraiser” at a friend’s home. Seems like a nice young man. Smart kid for sure – he graduated from Walnut Hills High school as valedictorian, went to Georgetown and then graduated from Yale Law School. But it seems he learned just as many valuable lessons on the high school hardwood.
Dani credits his time at Walnut Hills for solidifying his love of Cincinnati. Those years – especially his years as captain of the basketball team – shaped his belief that friendships, trust, and love across the barriers of geography, race, and class are critical to unlocking our full potential as a city. He remains firm in his conviction that our diversity should be a source of strength, not weaponized to create barriers and drive us apart.
“our diversity should be a source of strength, not weaponized to create barriers and drive us apart“… sounds like your typical political platitudes. And maybe it is. But here’s a sign that Dani walks the walk:
Dale Mallory didn’t have the support of some Democrats in leadership. An endorsement committee moved to endorse Isaacsohn. After a heated debate, Isaacsohn said he urged the Hamilton County Democrats to not endorse for the sake of party unity.
From the same Cincinnati.com article cited above
In the backstabbing win-at-all-costs world of politics, Dani put a common cause before his own ambitions. Would that more politicians were like that.
I work from home most days, and usually try to get out for a walk to break the monotony of my bland basement (and the creativity-sapping barrage of Zoom meetings). A few weeks ago, I was out for a walk and ran into Dani. He was out knocking on doors, trying to convince folks to vote for him. It was hotter than blazes that day. You’ve gotta really want it to go door-to-door in 2022 trying to get people to vote for you. But that hard work paid off.
Now comes the really hard work. Trying to win a general election. And if you win that, the work gets even harder: trying to find common ground across the aisle, when that aisle can seem as wide as the Grand Canyon.
Too much of our politics at the State House is about tearing each other down, scoring points, and honing in on what separates us. We have real divisions and challenges, but if we allow them to consume us, everyone loses. Dani believes that when we lift as we climb, we are able to celebrate each others’ success and come together to solve shared challenges.
From Dani’s website
I hope Dani wins in November. More importantly, I hope he’s able to find some common ground, and work out sensible solutions to the challenges we face in our city and state.
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
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “That is why we should celebrate every day when our feet hit the floor. Another to enjoy and share with…” Jun 25, 04:33
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “This simply explains why we should celebrate every day our feet hit the floor. Another day to enjoy and share…” Jun 25, 04:31
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