Have you ever read a book and then almost immediately wished you could un-read it? That’s what happened to me when I read Scar Tissue, an autobiography from Anthony Kiedis, the lead singer of The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Bottom line: he should stick to performing in a band.
The book is called Scar Tissue because the better more fitting title wouldn’t fit on the outside cover: I Took Tons Of Drugs, Had Sex With A Lot Of Models And Groupies, And Occasionally Sobered Up Enough To Sing In A Band.
Mr. Kiedis spends 455 long-winded pages talking about his debauchery, and about 10 pages talking about his sobriety. And occasionally they overlap. Here’s a (thankfully) brief passage that gives you a few clues about the type of person we’re dealing with – the “meeting” he mentions is an AA meeting:
Did you follow that? AK cuts the line (because he’s like this guy) to chat up a “extra-fine girl” at a club (she lives with Paris Hilton and a lesbian Playboy centerfold, btw), one who had a dream about them being together, and she becomes “his girl”… until he goes to an AA meeting a month later and sees his ex, who he points out in his flashback was a leech. And he winds up making out with her. Classy!
Save yourself the time and trouble, don’t read this dross. Here’s an Amazon review that sums it up quite nicely:
Met some old radio buddies last night at a free outdoor concert in downtown Cincinnati. The headliner was The Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. And damn were they good!
You can be a three-piece and be a Big Damn Band when you play like they do. Reverend Peyton is a killer guitar player, his wife Breezy plays washboard, and drummer Ben plays a kit that has an upside down pickle barrel on it.
Not quite sure how to describe their music… it’s “old-timey” but newfangled. It’s bluesy, but it’s a highly caffeinated version of the blues. Here’s the blurb from their bio:
The Rev. Peyton’s Big Damn Band has always been strong on authenticity, playing music that blends blues, ragtime, folk, country and other traditional styles with the sleek modern energy of do-it-yourself, homespun, punk fueled rock.
Yep, that sounds about right.
Reverend is from Brown County, Indiana, the least populous county in the entire state. Nashville, Indiana is in Brown County, and for more than 25 years it housed the Little Nashville Opry, an Indiana venue that hosted hundreds of legendary country music stars. The Reverend and his Big Damn Band could teach the folks in “Big Nashville” a thing or three about authenticity.
Here’s the Rev playing 18 different instruments during John Henry:
And here’s the band raising a little hell:
The band puts on a fantastic, high energy show, so if you ever get a chance to meet the Reverend Peyton, it’ll do your soul a lot of good.
NPR Music has a couple of fine forthcoming albums streaming right now on their “First Listen” page.
One is from an Australian guitar-drums duo called Hockey Dad. It’s fun, punky pop.
The other is from a Portland band called Blind Pilot. Even if you don’t care for their music, you have to admire the fact that they did a couple of tours traveling by bicycle.
I pulled a Jimmy Buffet recently (“blew out my flip-flop”). It happened about 2 minutes after my youngest son and I got to Kings Island. If you’ve never tried limping/shuffling around a giant amusement park with a broken flip-flop, I highly DON’T recommend it. I even stopped at a help desk and tried to staple and duct tape it back together. That always worked for this guy:
But no luck for me.
I’m an old man with arthritic toes (youth is wasted on the young) so I need more arch support than the average flat flip-flop provides. Crocs makes a pair that suits me well. I know what you’re thinking:
But these are flip-flops, and they are less hideous than the clog Crocs.
See? Very un-Croc-like.
So a few days later, I went to the Dick’s Sporting Goods website (be careful how you search for this business name online!) and ordered a new pair. I got two emails from Dick’s that same day, one saying “we received your order” and then this one:
All good, right? Processed… they’re working on it.
Five days later, they tell me it was cancelled:
Sorry, but if you didn’t have the inventory, why did you let me place the order in the first place? And if you didn’t have it, why did it take you five days to figure that out? I’ve got half a mind to kick Dick’s Sporting Goods butt… if not for my arthritic toes.
We have a park nearby, but our street wouldn’t be considered a pastoral setting by any stretch of the imagination. We’re within city limits, and quite close to a busy four-lane street. Somehow Bambi managed to scale our side or back fence (a good 5′ leap) and make him/herself at home.
I just wish s/he’d eat all our weeds instead of eating our flowers.
You can have your 3-D or 4K big screen TV and Blu-Ray with surround sound… I’ll take this setup over that any day:
When I’m walking along the beach, I’m always amazed (and amazingly disappointed) by the number of people who have their ear buds in, either listening to music or chatting on their cell phones. They’re missing half the fun, because the sounds of the surf just can’t be beat.
Ditch the ear buds, buddy, and tune in to a much sweeter sound.
Ah, there’s nothing like breaking down 40 miles north of Panama City, Florida, in the family truckster that’s loaded to the gills with kids, bikes and beach supplies. Oh, and our oldest son’s guitar and amplifier too (he really needs to learn how to downsize his packing list). Cargo carrier on top (we call it “the turtle”) and bike rack on the back.
Despite all the technological advances made by the auto industry, there’s still not a whole lot of warning when your car’s alternator dies. One minute you’re cruising along at 60 m.p.h., the next minute all your dashboard controls go haywire and your car dies.
Granted, we were going from the Florida Panhandle to Hilton Head in the middle of a two-week vacation, so I realize this falls into the category of #firstworldproblems. But still, it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. Especially when we got to the car dealer and they said they didn’t have an alternator for a 2003 Honda Odyssey in stock, and it’d take 3 days to order one. Thankfully they were able to find a suitable substitute that afternoon, and 7 hours (and many dollars) later, we were back on the road. Oh well, at least we didn’t get stuck in Hilton Head bridge traffic when we rolled in near midnight.
When our car wasn’t breaking down, here’s the typical scene inside the van:
Yours truly at the wheel, the rest of the family snoozing.
Last weekend, I made my 3rd consecutive yearly pilgrimage down to Louisville, KY for the Forecastle music festival. I love the setup (it’s downtown at Waterfront Park, so the Ohio River serves as the backdrop for 3 of the 4 stages) and usually the lineup of performers is right in my musical sweet spot.
It’s three magical days of binge-listening, a smorgasbord of sweet sounds. Highlight of the weekend was probably the trifecta of acts that wrapped up the festival on Sunday evening: Death Cab for Cutie, Brandi Carlile and Ryan Adams, back to back to back. But Saturday had an impressive run too, from The Arcs to Dr. Dog to Local Natives to Sylvan Esso to the Alabama Shakes. Friday was pretty darn killer too, especially Phosphorescent and the Avett Brothers.
There were a few times when I thought “I’m too old for this all-day outdoor music thing”… but then I’d see a band that really impressed me and get a second wind. I like Forecastle as much for the up-and-comers as for the bands I already know and like. Folks like Alex G, Caveman, Future Thieves, The Suffers, Bully and Anderson East.
The Suffers, a soulful 9-piece from Houston, TX
Phosphorescent
Bully
Anderson East had a killer set.
The always-amazing Brandi Carlile and her equally-amazing band.
Can’t wait to see what’s in store for 2017. Sign me up!
Here’s a photo of my son, buckling up before his first solo car drive:
The good news: he has a job so he can help pay for gas. The bad news: our car insurance rates doubled… and my heart rate tripled. I suppose it’s just the first in a series of “letting go” moments. Soon he’ll be heading off to college. Then moving out of the house permanently after college (at least we hope so). Then starting a life of his own, where his parents merely make cameo appearances. There’s not much we can do about it – he’s in the driver’s seat.
Oh, and if you see a blue, 2003 Honda Odyssey on the road in the eastern part of Cincinnati, with a bunch of school stickers on the back and some rock music cranked up really high, you might want to give the car a wide berth.
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
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