Here’s the “Godmother of Punk” Patti Smith in an interview with Ezra Klein of the NYT:
Despite everything that’s happening in the world and everything around us and any frustration or helplessness we feel or betrayal we feel, we have to remember it’s also all right to feel the joy of being alive and feel the joy of your own possibilities. Even in the face of the suffering of so many people around us. I have to hold on to the fact that I have my own life, and I have duties that I have to perform. I have a family to take care of. But I also have the same calling I did when I was young: to nourish and to do the work that I believe I was given the possibility to do.
I’m not going to let anything shake that faith, no matter what kind of rubble or debris of our time I have to walk through. I believe in my rebel hump. So I’m not going to let anyone destroy it. I’m just going to keep doing my work.
Beautiful. Just beautiful!
Yes, the United States can seem like it’s turned into the Upside Down, or a Bizarro World. And there are daily if not hourly opportunities to get frustrated, or feel helpless or betrayed, or be depressed by the suffering around us. But we still have to keep on doing the work that we’re called to do.
We have to remember it’s also all right to feel the joy of being alive and feel the joy of your own possibilities
Patti Smith
You’ll have to read the full transcript or listen to the entire podcast episode (posted below) to learn about Patti’s “rebel hump.”
Here’s to joy! Here’s to possibilities! Here’s to being a punk!
Last night, I got back from a four-day trip to Boston. It was yet another pilgrimage to see my favorite band doing three nights of shows.
It was like ComicCon, but for old guys who like guitar-driven, melodic rock circa the early 90s. (I’m being reductive – Buffalo Tom still puts out new albums occasionally, and their newer stuff is just as compelling as their older tunes. But still, they might want to look into sponsorship deals with hip replacement surgeons and Flomax.)
The venue holds about 400. 400 dedicated, dyed-in-the-wool fans, from all over – L.A., Baltimore, south Michigan, even Tasmania! And yours truly, representing the Flyover States Chapter of the Buffalo Tom Fan Club. The vibe is quite casual, as witnessed by the very “Puppet Show and Spinal Tap” look of the chalkboard sign in front of the Armory.
Buffalo Tom was never “massive”… but I love their music, and they’re good dudes. I’m so grateful that they’ve organized this festival for the past couple of years. Seeing and hearing them live brings me so much joy. They’re my jam!
Three nights of concerts (including an acoustic set Thursday with some very tasty cover songs from Echo & The Bunnymen, the Rolling Stones, The Cars, the Psychedelic Furs, New Order, Simon & Garfunkel, and Died Pretty).
Plus a book reading from lead singer Bill Janovitz’s latest book, which is about The Cars.
But wait, there’s more! A band Q&A, an autograph session, and cool opening bands (John Wesley Harding! The Moving Targets! Hilken Mancini and Melissa Gibbs! Elsa Kennedy!). Truly an embarrassment of riches for BT fans. A magical musical marathon.
Speaking o’ marathons, I clocked a ton of steps traipsing through Boston, Cambridge, Somerville, and Medford during my stay. I had to make a pilgrimage to Greystone, the amazing cafe/bakery in the South End that my first cousin once removed Jacqueline owns and operates, with an assist from her mom (“Cousin Patty” to me).
They weren’t around (Jacqueline just had Baby #3, and Patty was out of town for a wedding) but the morning bun was to die for!
I met up with the daughter/niece (respectively) of a couple of brothers who are friends of mine from college. (She works at Greystone!) And with husband/wife co-workers of mine who relocated to Boston a couple of years ago.
Boston Public Library. Harvard Square. Newbury Comics. Davis Square. Winter Hill Brewing. Cheapo Records. And green space galore!
I started walking and never really stopped.
I walked a Boston Marathon and a Boston Half-Marathon. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Buffalo Tom’s song “All Be Gone” says it best:
Seems like I was just a kid not so long ago
So many arrivals
So many hellos
Now my time behind is greater than my time ahead
Save up the minutes like flowers
Before they’re all dead and gone
While I can, I’m gonna lace ’em up, and keep on keepin’ on.
A bit of Monday morning inspiration courtesy of Austin Kleon:
Maybe it isn’t so much “inspiration” as “motivation to create a little perspiration.”
Drawing art, starting a business, writing a book – they all take effort. Even putting an album on the turntable (or creating a playlist) requires a bit of exertion.
You don’t need permission from anyone else. But you do have to do the work.
Austin Kleon is the New York Times bestselling author of a trilogy of illustrated books about creativity in the digital age: Steal Like An Artist, Show Your Work!, and Keep Going. He’s also the author of Newspaper Blackout, a collection of poems made by redacting the newspaper with a permanent marker.
He sends out a weekly “10 things” email newsletter that’s always engaging. You can sign up for it in the sidebar of his website’s home page.
They’re all loss leaders… I’ve earned the princely sum of zero dollars and zero cents, combined, from all three. (Quite the trifecta!)
I have to pay for the domain names, the podcast hosting, the WordPress hosting, anti-spam software… it probably comes out to just shy of $300 a year.
Don’t tell WordPress and Podbean and Akismet and Namecheap, but I’d gladly pay a lot more.
I’m not looking to “monetize” my efforts.
The blog has helped me be a better writer (still a work in progress), stay better connected with my friends, and even connect with one of my mom’s relatives in Italy. Pure gold. And my Cincinnati Magazine writing assignments most assuredly wouldn’t have happened without this blog.
The podcast about 97X seems like a fool’s errand. Very few people listened to the station when it existed, and it’s been off the air for two decades (or a mere 15 years if you include the dot-com era). But the people who listened to the station absolutely loved it. And somehow, some way, despite the lack of promotion (and the weird name of “97X Rumblings from the Big Bush”), they found the podcast. As I tell Dave all the time “every time we publish a new episode, we make 150 people very happy.” Through the pod, we’ve been able to reconnect with old friends, meet new ones, talk to musicians we admire (the latest episode features two members of Too Much Joy), and create a place for folks to relive some of their fondest memories. And hanging out with Dave — one of the most naturally funny people I’ve ever met — is always a treat.
My music blog? It’s mostly a “concert calendar” – every few weeks, I’ll post about the bands coming to town, and throw in a bunch of wacky music-related material. In other words, it’s a chance for me to connect my love of music with my love of being goofy. Sold!
Combined, my trifecta of trash takes up a decent amount of my time. And time is our most precious commodity. But I spend it willingly and gladly. I’m not getting “paid back in equal measure.” And that’s exactly the point!
According to Wikipedia, she’s “an American folk and country singer-songwriter from Hickman, Kentucky.”
I first saw her back in 2021, at a free concert in Hamilton, opening for Aaron Lee Tasjan (he’s cool too!). The show was supposed to be at an outdoor amphitheater, but it rained buckets so they moved it to a nearby street that was covered by a parking garage walkway roof. It was dingy, it was echo-y, and there were only a few hardy souls in attendance. It would’ve been easy for S.G. and her band to bemoan their fate and phone in their performance, but they still brought their A game.
S.G. may be “an American folk and country singer-songwriter” but after reading her latest Substack post (eloquently entitled “Chicken sh*t on a thousand acres”), I’d add “philosopher” and “life coach” to her bio. Here’s my favorite passage from it:
There is so much uncertainty right now, and I want to tell anyone who reads this that the future is built on seeds you plant right now. Hope is resilient, and even if that hope doesn’t bear fruit for years to come, one day you will be reaping the harvest of a long held dream and vision. In times of despair and trials, put some faith into the little seeds of hope you are planting. It may be years down the road before you see their potential, but if you care for them, they will produce.
That’s beautiful! And some much needed advice for these troubled and troubling times.
What seeds of hope are you planting today? (No overalls and tractor required.)
S.G. Goodman’s music is pretty darn cool too. Here’s her website and a stellar performance of a beautiful song is below.
Of course, I’m no beefcake like Derek Zoolander. But my name is right next to a Chicken Parm and a Tuna Melt… that’s practically the same thing.
I’ve written a few things for Cincinnati Magazine over the past few years. But this was the first time I pitched a story idea to editor John Fox. I ran into bassist extraordinaire Chris “Freekbass” Sherman at my local Kroger, and he mentioned that he was now doing a livestream six nights a week on TikTok. I’ve known Chris since my 97X radio days, and our kids went to grade school and high school together. But I had no idea he was a bona fide TikTok superstar. I thought it’d make for a pretty cool story. John agreed.
Chris is a very sweet dude and easy to interview. And of course, I’ve been known to chat a bit about music, so it was a fun story to write.
I couldn’t make it to the photo shoot, but the shots by Devyn Glista are amazing, and really capture Chris’ sense of style and his on-stage persona.
The layout, the typography… *chef’s kiss*.
I’m thrilled with the way it all turned out.
Getting a byline on the cover and being featured in the contributors section were just icing on the cake.
Freekbass was pumped about the piece too.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/kbw98WAY7WY
It’s not “my smilin’ face on the cover of the Rolling Stone“… but I can guarantee you that my face will be smiling all month long!
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