Moonalice

Once upon a time in America, there were musicians who played the music they wanted to play. They didn’t follow musical fads, they created them. They had lots and lots of fun with that and we had lots of fun listening. They were based in California - more specifically San Francisco, but within a very short space of time, they were embraced by a continent of music lovers. Bands like Hot Tuna and Jefferson Airplane, evolving to Jefferson Starship, and of course the Eagles and Poco, Buffalo Springfield and just to name a very few.

Some of these bands have largely stayed together – others have disbanded and gone solo or started up new ventures. So it is with Moonalice.

Moonalice is a band/tribe (sic) comprised of musicians Jack Casady of Hot Tuna, Jesus H Moonalice, the incredible Barry Sless (David Nelson Band, Phil Lesh & Friends) on bass, guitar and pedal steel, Sir Sinjin Moonalice (British born Pete Sears, also from Hot Tuna, Rod Stewart Band, Jefferson Starship et al.) on bass and keys, Chubby Wombat Moonalice (Roger McNamee) on guitar, bass, Blue Moonalice, Ann McNamee (Flying Other Brothers, Ann Atomic) on angelic vocals and percussion, and finally, Barry Sless and Dawnman Moonalice, Jimmy Sanchez (Boz Scaggs, Bonnie Raitt) on drums.

Last and certainly not least is G.E. Smith. Leader of the Saturday Night Live Band for about ten years, he also toured with Hall & Oates for a number of years, plus played with Dylan, Jagger, and Bowie.

As the story goes, Moonalice is a Native American tribe that dates back to the beginning of time. In later times, the tribe evolved into two major clans, one agricultural, the other nomadic. The nomadic Moonalice clans were known as bands. They wandered the continent, surviving on their wits and music. Their specialty was low tones. From time to time, the Moonalice hippies and bands would gather in pow wows that were known as gigs. More Woodstock than livestock, Moonalice gigs were quintessentially American, combining the vibes of New York, San Francisco and all points in between. Moonalice legend speaks of a mysterious 7th player – a bass player, naturally – who possessed prodigious talent. It is said by those who say such things, that the day will come when all members of the tribe will play bass together. And on that day the notion of low will be taken to new depths. Or possibly the notion of depth taken to new lows. As with all things, it’s really a matter of perspective.

The band started out with mirth but on the right foot too, when they enlisted legendary producer T Bone Burnett to help transform the highly regarded Moonalice live sound into a recorded project. Can this album really go bad? Of course not.

Pseudonyms aside, this album will charm you. Moonalice’s debut harkens back to a simpler time – a time when the world too, was somewhat simpler. Every problem could be solved by making love, not war and every coming together of people was the simple sharing of anything you had to share. Love, hemp, opinion, and a hatred of ‘the establishment’.

For those of us who grew up on California folk rock with a psychedelic twist, this album is a breath of fresh air – what we know and love, albeit maybe not as soft as in those days of caftans and granny prints. I do think they’ll pick up a few new followers with this album though. How can they not?

I have to say I love this album. Hearing G. E. Smith master the Telecaster once again in the only way he can, was worth the cost of the album right there. But there are bonuses too - Jack Casady's legendary full driving tone and innovative melodic bass work was there as well, the stormy melodic lines & sweeping chord work that earned him a place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But aside from musical qualities they bring you great tunes as well. From the Mark Knofler-esque sounding’ "Kick It Open" to the haunting "Blink Of An Eye" this will definitely get many hours of play at our house. I highly recommend everyone give this a listen - once you have it certainly won't be your last.

This old guitar of mine...

This week or the next I will finally be reunited with my guitar. My best friend for so many years, my beautiful Framus 12 string guitar. Listed as the Texan by the company, so many people referred to it as the Hummingbird that Framus finally changed the listing in their catalog to the Hummingbird. While the bird on the Framus pick guard isn't really a hummingbird, but really some sort of songbird, the shape of the guard and the flowers on it are very much like that of the Gibson Hummingbird.

I've had this guitar with me what seems like forever, but in reality 35 years. It is one of my things that I always took good care of, making sure it was always cleaned and polished, even if I wasn't using it and keeping the wood hydrated. No dust ever dare try to lay on it for long.

It was the third guitar that I'd owned, my first being a student guitar, a black flattop Harmony - 'the peoples guitar' they touted it at the time. I often wondered "as opposed to what?" That guitar came with a 25 year warranty and was sold through Sears with their Silvertone name on it. It was a surprisingly nice sounding guitar for it's price tag, maybe a bit scratchy, but otherwise okay for $90.00.

As a kid I thought I had the best guitar that money could buy.
I don't know if mine would have made it the 25 years or not but it didn't matter because I sold it to buy a Gibson LG1.

The LG1 and I did not get along at all. It was a sort of clunky sounding little 3/4 guitar that had neck rod problems we were never able to get fixed. One song and I was having to tune - that did get rather old very fast.

So a dear friend of mine, who happened to own a music store, called me in and presented me with my Framus. He thought it was the best guitar I could have for the type of thing I did on guitar and he was right on the money. I bonded with my baby immediately and I've never looked back.

So fast forward to today and getting my guitar fixed after our last move back to the east from Vegas. The guitar was so mishandled by the moving company, having been left in 100 degree heat unprotected for nearly nine months, it split down the center of the face.
*all photos may be enlarged by clicking on them ~

I was beside myself when it arrived wrapped in only a sheet of newspaper, nothing else, even tho' the company, Puliz Moving and Storage, [remember that name] assured us the guitar would be specially grated and kept in air conditioned storage, it was more than evident that never happened. As an aside, Puliz damaged more of our belongings in this one move than any of our other seven moves combined. If you need to move anywhere, you need to avoid this company like the plague.
And so began a long saga of fighting with their insurance company to have the guitar fixed.

Since they were refusing, I sought out a man here on my own in Pennsylvania...Bangor PA to be exact. Mr Fred Castner. The guitar has not left my side in 35 years! I didn't want it replaced - I wanted my guitar in the condition they received it in. I want you to remember this name too, Castner Guitar Repair, because not only is this man an expert at his craft, but working with him has been a delight from beginning to end.
In today's world, with all the businesses that won't give an inch, or live up to their promises, how refreshing it is to find a person like Fred who will go the extra mile and then some, to get it right! He has kept me abreast of every step of the way in the restoring process. I have received daily reports and he's asked for my input at times if in doubt about what I expect.

How could you ask for anything better in business?
~the seemingly innocent looking crack~
The progress pictures arrived compliments of Fred's wife Regina and I am thrilled at what I am seeing so far! I can't post all the pictures, but I will give you a sampling and trust me, the remaining photos show a beautiful guitar emerging again thanks to talented hands.





~prepping for the lacquer

~the crack is mended and sealed.


~another look before polishing it up


And so now I'm counting the hours til I have it back again. Any guesses as to what song I will attempt to play on it first? Isn't it obvious?



I'm intending to add to this as the time nears to bring it home too, so please drop by again. Sorta like awaiting a new baby, isn't it?

Saturday, October 18, 2008 - homecoming day -

There was the sign just ahead at the roadside. The sign reads Castner Guitar Repair. Should also read “Miracle worker slash all round great guy!” I am still in awe of what he has worked with my guitar.

My heart started hammering as we pulled into the drive and it hit me that this was the day I was picking up my guitar to bring it home again.
We met Fred at the door and he took us into the shop and presented the guitar to me – and no, for those of you that know me, I didn’t cry. But it was an uphill battle not to.

~ No, it's not your eyes, it's hubby's eyes. The pix are blurry. He says he doesn't need to wear his glasses.





The guitar is so beautiful, as you can see.

Once I got it home, he & I went over a few tunes together - songs that I thought may be easy for me to pick up again. Now I have blisters on my fingers! Trust me when I say it’s been a long, long time since that’s happened, but I welcome it so much. And it didn't take too long either!

I was so relieved to find out I may have been worrying needlessly about my fingers not working. It will be like learning over again, I'm sure, but at least I can learn over…and with one advantage. This time I have the chords all in my head, I just have to send them all that back to my fingers.

I’m pretty confident that once I rebuild my calluses, I’m gonna be okay. Something I didn’t think about though, was the rest of my hand - my wrist will need some work because that is one wide neck, I tell ya! I had forgotten. I'm not a guitar weenie so I'm not sure of the measurements, but I believe the average 'at the nut' measurement for a guitar neck is 1 3/4" to 1 11/16" wide. Mine is 1 14/16ths"! That's quite a span for a female type hand, but ya do what ya gotta do! Life's little challenges, y'know?

And I will do it again, in fact already doing it, just awkwardly, but I’m not going for best looking guitar player so it doesn’t really matter! Wish me luck everybody. I will try to give a 6 month report on my progress.

And if you ever have a guitar that needs repair or refinishing, or know someone that does, keep Fred in mind, because as you can see you will not be disappointed.

The Las Vegas Wranglers

That's hockey spelled F-U-N! There's almost nothing I miss about living in Vegas except the occasional show, some good eateries we discovered & named ours - and my boys. My Wranglers. I loved this team and I won't lie to you. I'm living in a virtual hockey nation right now but I miss going to see the Wranglers a couple of times a week. Seasons tickets & the pregame parties - meeting up with friends at the games...we were a family of 7000.



Anyone who thought Vegas wouldn't be able to do hockey right? Let me correct you. They made it a total arm waving, throat rasping riot! Elvis singing Viva Las Vegas every time the Wranglers scored, the intermission shows, the arena buffets, the giveaways...yeah, they had their own brand of hockey but it worked for me & I'm a pretty traditional fan.

Booyah...Yeah - Boo!

What can I say? I love Halloween, can you tell? I mean, who doesn't? Is there anyone who doesn't enjoy dressing up as someone, or something else for a day? Or watching those tiny witches, pirates and princesses working their way tentatively up your front walk past the spooky trees and other ghoulish house decor, trying to be brave and get to the door for that reward of treats?

This is such an ancient holiday, not always the one we recognize today but a special date on our calendars nonetheless.

Yet, I wonder how much people really know about this day and date? Don’t think of this as a test – think of it as just a fun quiz. That’s all it is, no need to fear doing badly. You won’t be visited by three ghosts in the witching hour – you've got the wrong holiday. Sadly though, I can’t give you chocolate or candy kisses if you get them all right either, but you can still feel good about doing well. Alright, ready?

1. Wiccaphobia (not to be confused with Wikipedia) is a fear of witches and witchcraft. Arachnophobia is a fear of spiders. Catoptrophobia is a fear of mirrors. What is Selenophobia?
(a) A fear of the moon
(b) A fear of the dark
(c) A fear of Selena
(d) A fear of light flashes.

2. Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of
(a) Guy Fawkes Day
(b) The Day of the Dead
(c) Oktoberfest
(d) Samhain
3. It was once believed that if an unmarried girl kept a silver sixpence and a rosemary herb beneath her pillow on Halloween night, she would likely dream of what?

(a) The way she would die
(b) How well her garden would do through the winter
(c) Her future husband
(d) The spirits of dead female relatives

4. Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger, Nightmare on Elm Street) starred in what 1977 movie with Henry Fonda and Susan Sarandon?

(a) The Rocky Horror Picture Show
(b) The Last of the Cowboys
(c) Once Upon a Time in the West (C'era una volta il West)
(d) The Satan Murders

5.Dean Koontz didn't write Something Wicked This Way Comes, so who did?

(a) Edgar Allen Poe
(b) Mary Shelley
(c) Ray Bradbury
(d) Bram Stoker

6. On October 31, 2005 in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania, Scott Cully set what world record?

(a) Carved a Jack o'lantern the fastest
(b) Won the pumpkin pie eating contest
(c) Grew the world's largest pumpkin
(d) Carved the largest Jack-o-lantern

7. The Irish tradition of carving a lantern is centuries old. But since the Irish don't grow pumpkins, what did they originally use?

(a) Petrified wood
(b) Turnips and potatoes
(c) Large clumps of peat from bogs
(d) Watermelons and Cantaloupe

8.Who died on October 31st?

(a) Boris Karloff
(b) Bram Stoker
(c) Edgar Allen Poe
(d) Harry Houdini

9. Which of these is not a real place?

(a) Skull Creek, Nebraska
(b) Transylvania, Romania
(c) Black Forest, Germany
(d) Death Valley National Park
(e) Devils Den, California

10. Which one of these urban legends is true?

(a) Razors have been found in apples.
(b) Halloween is the second-biggest holiday in terms of retail sales.
(c) Ohio's famed "Chimera House" is a haunted attraction that's so scary, no one has ever completed the tour.
(d) The Blair Witch Project is based on footage shot by three student filmmakers who mysteriously disappeared while making a documentary about the legend of the Blair Witch.

Tattle tales from the crypt:-

1.(a) - Selenophobia is a fear of the moon.

2. (d) - Samhain was celebrated by the Celts. They lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom and northern France. They celebrated their new year on November 1.

3. (c) - She dreamt of her future husband. It was also believed that if a girl carrying a lamp in her hand went to a spring of water on Halloween night, she would see the reflection of her life partner in water. There was also the belief that if an unmarried girl carried a broken egg in a glass and took it to a spring of water, she would be able to catch the glimpse of not just her future husband, but also her future children.

4.(c) - The Last of the Cowboys a rather eclectic B road movie.

5.(c) - Ray Bradbury published Something Wicked This Way Comes in 1962.

6. (d) The world's largest Jack o'lantern was carved by Scott Cully (USA) from the world's largest pumpkin on October 31, 2005 in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania, USA. The pumpkin was grown by Larry Checkon (USA) and weighed 666.32 kg (1,469 lb) at the Pennsylvania Giant Pumpkin Growers Association Weigh-off, on October 1, 2005.


7. (b) - They used turnips and potatoes.

8.(d) - Harry Houdini died October 31, 1926

9. - Would you believe…they're all real? They are indeed –spooky huh?

10. (a) – sadly, razor blades have been found in apples. The other legends have now all been proven wrong. And oh for the day when as a society, we are well, and this will be added to the others as no longer true.

Pumpkins have been grown in North America for five thousand years. They are indigenous to the western hemisphere. And for anyone afraid of that piece of pumpkin pie, leave off the whipped cream and you’ll be okay. Pumpkins are low in calories, fat, and sodium and high in fiber. They are good sources of Vitamin A, Vitamin B, potassium, protein, and iron.

Happy haunting, everyone!

Making others listen to your inner self

As I sit here this morning thinking about the busy day, nay, weeks ahead and having to make yet another big move, I realize my six & a half year anniversary is nearing – the anniversary of my brain pop, my blow-out, my vascular paroxysm...my near death experience. I have called it many things, most unprintable – the medical professions terminology is brain aneurysms. But, like the rose, by any other name, it still stinks. You won't find that in any medical journal you can bet.

I think about where I am today and where I was the many weeks after May 29^th, 2001. First, laying unconscious in a hospital, totally paralyzed on my left side and everyone ready to write me off.

I was told I would likely not have the use of my left arm and hand again, or walk without a full leg brace and quad cane, never mind hike, climb or do something like drive a car. But today, I can do all of those things.

I was told that the hole was in my brain was placed immediately where the brain operates eyesight and I would likely lose mine. I don’t even wear glasses. I was told that since my brain was flooded with blood and sustained damage, I shouldn't expect to do any of the things I used to do. The bloody barrage that soaked the right side of my brain was going to render me disabled. Handicapped. Crippled. No longer able to do anything, so I shouldn't waste my time trying. Oh sure, I needed to do my therapy so I could see small gains - do my therapy so that I wouldn’t worsen. But don’t set my goals too high or expect to regain my abilities 100% because I would just be disappointed. It wasn't going to happen.

Thing is, I never approached my life like that before this event, so I certainly wasn’t about to cave and start doing things that way now. Not when there was so much at stake! Were they crazy? I would sit in my hospital bed in rehab and wait for someone to come around and wheel me to therapy, wishing all the while that I could do something…ANYTHING, while waiting for my hour at the gym room. I was so eager to get started and since I worked out everyday before being hospitalized, this was unbearable! I asked them if I could bring the dumb bells back to my room from the therapy room and the answer was no because they were needed in the gym. Besides, they didn’t want me to tire myself…~*sigh*~.
I was tiring alright! Tired of the inactivity I had to endure.

So I embarked on my own path back.

Out of desperation, I had my husband bring my dumbbells in from home and I'd sit in my chair in the corner of my room and work my arm. There was also Debi, an aide/friend/confidante who would bring me the mop from behind the janitors’ door at night and I did lifts with that while sitting on my bed. I got my fingers moving and gripping and then my hand working. Before long, my arm.
My doctors were astounded! My therapists weren’t. They said they knew if anyone was going to be able to come back from something like this, I was, because I didn’t accept no for an answer. I never believed the doctors and I never believed I wasn’t going to get better. That’s not a brag – that’s simply a fact. And it’s also the point of my post.

The medical profession continues to make one large mistake over and over again. They treat patients as case histories or tend to try and fit them into what they believe is how it should go, based on what has gone before. The textbook case. ‘Let’s see…kinda like case 732b and a little like case 81c with a dash of F459 thrown in, so I guess we can’t expect anything different from this person, even though she’s an entirely different human being in entirely different circumstances and with a major kick ass attitude!’

My main doctor, Dr. Howard Yonas, is a very highly respected neurosurgeon [and all round cool guy] not just in the US, but internationally, would kid with me from time to time, saying he was going to have my picture put on the side of buses in Pittsburgh as his poster person for recovery. I'd kid back telling him to throw away all his books and write his own books based on observations of his patients like me and he would have plenty of poster persons.

In the end, the lesson here is we should never limit ourselves, nor should we allow others to limit us - least of all our doctors and physical therapists. I lived all by myself in Vegas for nearly a year and today I still spend a lot of time on my own. I doubt I'd be able to do this had I listened to the naysayers. I was so fortunate to have good, understanding therapists that understood my mindset. Thanks guys and girls, you know who you are. Because of your support, I'm continuing to have an active life, and while maybe not 100%, I do a pretty nasty 95%.

The Fairy nests

~click on all images to enlarge~

I love to find the little treasures of life - the things my grandfather would always explain to me and no-one else knew about. The tiny Maple whirligigs, the propellers that the Nature spirits would use to come gently to the ground. I tried as a child to catch a glimpse of the spirits but I never could...oh, I saw the propellers for sure, but never was good enough to see the spirits.

Though never seen, I always felt their presence y'know, and I think that was what my grandfather was trying to teach me. The awareness of nature. The awareness of all things of nature, real or imagined.

But the fairy nests, well, I saw them everywhere as a kid and I did sometimes think I saw the their little faces hiding down under the canopies and laughing at my inability to catch them. I would gently blow on them - not enough to harm anything or tear the fiber of them, but just to make them dance and jiggle the millions of glistening droplets.

Very early today as I looked out at our misty morning, I was delighted to discover everything draped with fairy nests! All along our hedges they dwelt, outlined with dew and sparking in the soft morning light. A photo op if there ever was one! Something I was never able to do as a kid, and as hard as I tried to draw them, I could never capture their ethereal form or do it justice.

So I have them now - proof that they exist and to capture the beauty of them for ever.














A community of Fae - the preparedness of winter settling in. Berries in abundance and the protection of boughs from the cold snows that will be here soon enough. The quiet hush of autumn...














They choose their different places, much as we do - some picking the burnished red of the fiery bush while others preferring the smaller blades of grass. My grandfather would be so proud that I had remembered his tales of how they decided to live where they did, but for now I will leave you with just these images.














I must remember to watch closely to see if I will be treated to a sighting of the inhabitants. I have my camera ready...you just never really know.

Bobby and the New York Islanders

Founded 1972, for me, they were the only team in the NHL in the 70’s and 80’s. Sure, there were those pesky Edmonton Oilers whose skinny young superstar Wayne Gretzky was shattering existing scoring records. So what? The Isles won three straight Stanley Cups, and I had Mike Bossy, Denis Potvin, Clark Gillies, Bryan Trottier, Butch Goring and Bobby Nystrom. Thore Robert Nystrom…oh Bobby! The team called him Thor – I called him my favorite player and the one who got their Cup winning goal. The shot which happened to be the shot in Islanders' history.

But to even try to capture Bob Nystrom's career in one shot,would be a disservice to the player. The goal only typified his career, one highlighted not just by the result, but the hustle that put him in the position to receive the historic lead pass from John Tonelli that made Nystrom the first of many heroes all those years ago.

He was one of the hardest working, if not most talented, members of that team, for all the talk about Mike, Denis, Clark & Byran and oh yeah, Billy Smith in nets.

Nine-hundred games after his NHL career was born during the same season the Islanders were in 1972-73, making him a true "original Islander," his name and No. 23 were retired to the Nassau Coliseum rafters in what was an emotional retirement ceremony. Hardwork was obviously Nystrom’s catalyst and it was that. Something that helped him and his teammates from the early chapters of the franchise's history reach the pinnacle so quickly. Something that pushed him down the ice, just ahead of Mel Bridgeman in time to redirect the pass from Tonelli that beat Pete Peeters, the Philadelphia Flyers and the odds at 7:11 of overtime. That was May, 24, 1980. One day that not only solidified a franchise, it exemplified a career.

To remember Nystrom in this new age of hockey is like recalling those big block muscle cars from the 1960s and 70s: they just don't make 'em like that anymore. He was hardly an image of finesse, but he always found a way to keep up with the skaters of his day and even employed a coach during the off-season to improve his stride and speed. He wasn't a burly bruiser, either, yet he proved time and again he could handle himself against the notorious goons or anyone else who had the nerve to drop their gloves in his path.
The epitome of team player, Nystrom gave the Islanders whatever they needed in every game. Scoring, physical presence, energy, whatever equated to blood, sweat and tears. A 25-to-30 goal scorer during his best years, Nystrom seemed to thrive during the playoffs, where he holds the franchise mark with four overtime goals in playoff history, including the most memorable of all some 27 years ago this May.

Most especially, he embodies everything that used to be so special about sports that in these days of free agency has been long forgotten. A career Islander, he loved being a Long Islander and he still does, now serving as the team's Director of Corporate Relations. He was and is as much an image of the franchise, and Long Island, as any player in team history. Like Mario Lemieux, you couldn't imagine seeing him in any other jersey, or playing for any other team. Thankfully, we never had to.

The outstanding thing about the Isles that year was that there were so many hard working players, all of them on one team, and it equaled a Cup. And for their short life as a franchise they had great players and a good start to their dynasty. Their leaders were many. The Isles proved, at least in 1983, that they matched and could best Wayne Gretzky by beating the Oilers for the Stanley Cup. Not just the Cup, but the Isles fourth Cup in a row -No team in any major professional North American sport has won four consecutive championships since the Isles setting them aside as something very special. But I knew that.

Getting off to a bit of a rocky start in their early years, the Islanders were forced to pay a $4 million territorial fee to the nearby NY Rangers. Unique to New York City’s major league sports teams, the Islanders and the Rangers are both members of the same division, giving the cross state rivals many chances to meet throughout the regular season.

In 1980, the team took its first Stanley Cup Championship with the backing of a powerful defensive line.

With an overtime win in game six, the Islanders took down the Flyers making it a 4-2 series. The next season saw another Stanley Cup victory for the Islanders as well, when they Minnesota North Stars in five games.

But the Islanders didn’t stop there. The 1982 season marked their third championship in a row when they won both the regular season title and then the Stanley Cup, this time over the Vancouver Canucks in a four game sweep.

Bossy, Butch and Bobby...



Then, astoundingly 1983 marked their fourth cup in a row when the Isles swept the Gretzky-led Oilers. In fact, New York Islanders have seen five Stanley Cup runs and four Stanley Cup Championships in their time in the NHL.
However, since those days, the glory days for the Isles have somewhat dwindled. Until this past season when they once again found themselves in the first round, they have not seen a Stanley Cup run since 1984 and their standings in the league haven’t extraordinary.

But though the team's been struggling for a few years, now with their new retro logo, I think their off-season planning makes for promising new things to come. They have a fine squad of new players dedicated to winning and a terrific netminder, Rick DiPietro, in nets. They have veterans Bill Guerin and Miroslav Satan, they have youngsters like Jeff Tambellini and Chris Campoli ready to show they are up to the task.
And they are once again seeing excellent coaching from Jack Adams trophy winner, Ted Nolan.
I have every confidence that a new dynasty is in the making - one that may meet or surpass that of the first. A girl can only hope...

Steve Forbert

Yesterday....Little Stevie Forbert





And today...

Well, it sure has been a long time between gigs for Steve and me! With his very appealing and gritty voice, Steve's style - a blend of rock 'n' roll, country, folk and R&B - gives him an unmistakably American sound which is as listenable as it is good. His gift for spinning a musical yarn is, if I had to compare, a bit like Mark Twain grafted with John Prine; toss in some Tom Petty and you've pretty much got the picture.

And what a pleasant surprise to find that in all those years he’s remained the unpretentious, home-spun philosopher he started out being way back in 1978. Maybe a bit mellowed now from his former rocker days, but he can still get people up out of their seats. Like Springsteen, age just doesn't damper some rockers.

Steve is a songwriter with an easy-going introspective, who, at his beginnings, was like a lot of other talented singer/songwriters who happened to play accoustic guitar and harp-on-a-rack, he was touted to be the ‘next Dylan’. A hefty handle for a young 21 year old kid from Mississippi to try to step into. What critics and reviewers learned over time however, was that he really didn’t have to be the ‘next Dylan’ because he could hold his own in those lofty ranks without becoming anyone else but Steve Forbert.

No, he never reached Dylan super status, but then neither did many others tagged at their start. Few, if any but Dylan himself, ever do. But Steve's certainly carved out his own distinct niche with a career which was never compromised – a career that spans nearly 30 years now. And as I learned Saturday night, he still has the ability to make you sit forward and get caught in his songs.

He arrived and at the World Café in Philly backed by a really solid four man band called The Sound Benders, comprised of a bunch of longtime back-up musicians and new collaborators touring with him this year. And as Steve was 30 years ago, he still is today; an affable entertainer who looks out not over his audience, but at them, and muses out loud in folksy vignettes that show him to be as canny and ingenuous as ever. He drews the audience into every tune and the room becomes his backup singers…and dancers. Now that he’s gotten older, he can reflect on both his history and the worlds as well. And all the pitfalls and peaks. He did songs from way back and songs from his new album, most notably a song called “Search Your Heart”.

It was so obvious to everyone in the room that he was delighted to be chatting to everyone there. He hasn’t tired of any of it. So refreshing to see him enjoy what he was doing today as much as he had 25+ years ago. You cannot say that about a lot of entertainers. I suggest that if anyone has the opportunity to go and see him, do it without hesitation.



And for those who don’t yet know him, you will get the opportunity to hear a couple of his songs in the new Nicole Kidman film Margot at the Wedding this fall. It seems that after all these years Hollywood has discovered what some of us have known a long time.
Steve Forbert is a unique talent that’s here to stay.



Anyone interested in picking up Steve's latest cd Strange Names and New Sensations and the On Stage at World Cafe Live 2007 DVD, can do so from Amazon.com.Both come highly recommended by me.

I can’t close this review though, without mentioning Steve’s opening musical guest, Jake Brennan. Though appearing solo, he made enough music that you didn’t really notice. I do believe we’ll be watching and listening to Jake for a lot of years to come too. Like Steve, he carries no pretension, but just pure enjoyable music.
To quote Jake, “Some guys are plumbers, some guys fix cars, and I sing songs. And I write 'em. That's it."

He sums it up much better than I could.

Someone needs you....

For most all of my life I've been making space in my home for new friends. They have come in many shapes, shades and sizes. Fur, hair, feathers, scales and skin. Anyone that needed a home could easily find one with me. I felt it my earthly duty.

As a kid there were the inevitable snakes and squirrels, baby birds, bunnies and skunks. Outside there were all the rest. My extended family.

I get this from my grandfather. He would come home from work on blustery cold winter days and open his jacket to show who had 'followed' him home.
He'd sheepishly look at my Nana and say, "Well Huckleberry, I couldn't just leave him off to fend for himself, now could I?"
To which my Nana would reply "You? Fat chance of that! Who followed you this time?"

At one time we had three dogs, seven cats, three canaries, one budgie, one parrot, one squirrel and a raccoon sharing our home. Miraculously, they all got along; sometimes better than the ones in possession of the larger brain, in fact!

But from all this, I learned which animals can adapt to an indoor environment and which ones can't. Squirrels? Can't! Raccoons? Can't! Skunks? Take away that little bag of fumes they have and they are just as wonderful as any kitty.

I relate all this of course because of a dire need for homes for others that have been abandoned or sent to shelters due to circumstances beyond their owners control. These are the little ones that need you the most.

We so often make a decision to buy that 'pure bred' pet, never once thinking about how we are perpetuating the puppy mills and unscrupulous breeding farms. Animal shelters are by far your best source when looking for a pet. Not only do they have a great selection of adult animals for adoption, but they also have kittens and puppies, and even purebred animals. In fact, on average, purebreds account for about 25% to 30% of a shelter's dog population.

Many pets at your local shelter are waiting for new homes because they were obtained from a breeder by someone with unrealistic expectations of the time, effort, and money required to sustain a lifelong relationship with their pet.

National figures indicate that about half of the animals in shelters must be euthanized for lack of homes.

Let's try to stop this trend today? Animals at your local shelter are eager to find a new home and are just waiting for someone like you.

And don't be discouraged if, when you first visit the shelter, there are no animals of the breed or type you want. It's unfortunate, but most shelters receive scores of new animals every day. Your shelter may also have a waiting list and can call you when an animal matching your preference becomes available. Before choosing your pet, you can even speak with an adoption counselor about whether your choice of a particular type or breed will be best for you. There is so much to be gained from deciding this is where to go. All three of my kitties today are rescued, one from the Humane Society and his cage was tagged with a euthanasia sticker. He was literally hours away of losing his life.

And last but not least, another advantage is that shelter adoption fees are usually much less than an animal's purchase price at a pet store or breeder. Your new little buddy is more likely to be vaccinated, dewormed, and spayed or neutered before coming home with you too.

To locate your local animal shelter, check the Yellow Pages under "Animal shelter," "Animal control," or "Humane Society."


Many shelters also have web sites on which they display the animals they have available for adoption. Some sites allow you to download adoption forms and read about responsible pet care.
A growing number of shelters also promote their web sites, and the animals they have for adoption, on sites such as Pets 911, Petfinder, Happy Tails and 1-800-Save-A-Pet.com.
Petfinder also has a 'click daily' to help food costs, which I love!

And finally, but certainly not last is Alley Cat Allies. If you can't provide a home for those struggling to live, then make their struggle easier. No, not by calling animal control & having them scooped up off the street and "humanely" destroyed, but by joining so many others in bringing food and health care to those in the urban wild. There are numerous ways to help; including donation and hands on work.

They also hold seminars to help people make their neighborhoods trap-neuter-return areas, and you learn how you can unite and mobilize to make nonlethal policies the norm. As surprising as it is to people, the law does support this, so if you decide to visit a national cat advocacy seminar such as the one being held in Washington this coming October, you will come away informed and ready to do something good. The dates for this seminar are Friday, October 12 and Saturday October 13. If you're not in the Washington area like I am, you can find things that are happening in your area by visiting their Feral Cat and Spay/Neuter Organizations section for global action. This is so easy to do and so vital to so many little lives.

My gratitude goes out to Patrick McDonnell for his most excellent comic strip and for all the good work he's doing for animals the world over. Reading Mutts is a part of my daily ritual. Got my button, got my handbook - I'm a fan!


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How I spend my Memorial Days

Signe Wilkinson cartoon©
Another Memorial Day and remind me again what it is we are fighting for?

Y’know, I can recall when I was really small, both my grandfather and my uncle reminiscing about the wars they’d fought in. It was easy to see that the experience, even to that very day, had left them with a mix of feelings. Proud yes, but very sad at the loss of friends and others in their fleet and platoon. As they sifted through their old dog-eared photos, it was not unusual to see them wipe a tear away. My grandfather and his men fought to rid the world of fascism. Both he and my uncle were, at different times, a part of the Second World War and the Korean War.
Of course they justified it all by saying that it was the ‘price of freedom’.

On Memorial Day we would go to watch the parade, and us kids would wave our flags and watch the assorted politicians lay wreaths on the assorted monuments in front of the assorted dignitaries about the city. All very somber & not just a little heart-wrenching ceremonies as I thought about those noble men who had given their lives so that I could be safe in my home. Even as a preschooler I felt so indebted to these men who had done this, so I could live to grow up in a free world. Though I may not have understood everything I was honoring that day, I did have a vivid picture in my mind of a brave young soldier facing down an enemy and shooting him dead. I, like so many, justified this by saying it had to be that way – him or me - cost of peace – I’m surprised my visions didn't have a patriotic soundtrack to accompany them.

Fast forward to the mid 60's. Operation Rolling Thunder and Vietnam. More prices of peace paid there in Vietnam, as well as Cambodia, Iran, Lebanon, Grenada, El Salvador, Panama, Kuwait, Iraq, Somalia, Yemen, Afghanistan and now again Iraq. Has anyone figured out yet why two million Americans had to partake in ‘Nam? Worse, more than 58,000 Americans and another 304,000 wounded – for what? Did any of those soldiers facing down “the enemy” have a gripe with the enemy? No. They had no quarrel with the people who were trying to kill them. Neither did the enemy for that matter, both sides being victim of patriotic rhetoric trotted out from their governing houses to the media and subsequently a population of listeners. In any of the war footage sent back, did you see the brave politicians fighting in the rice fields of Vietnam? And reported deaths – anyone hear of a lot of higher-up generals dying while in combat there?

Those soldiers were fighting and dying simply because powerful people who would never have to face death in battle told them it was their duty to die. And we all bow our heads and nod sagely. Maybe if we’d been able to see graphically what that ‘price was’. Not the romantic hoopla war movie, but the real deal? Maybe each evening when the news shows the loss of life in Iraq for that day, instead of showing a fresh young face all decked out in dress uniform, they should show a photo of the kid after he was killed. Maybe then people will have a real picture of the price extracted. And realize that real guns shatter people's skulls and spread their brains on the ground like seeping grey pudding, and the bullets rip their insides to shreds and leave them screaming for their Moms. Those war guns kill families and leave children fatherless or motherless, or a more long term injury - having to live with their visions and demons they bring back with them. Not a pretty picture, is it? The truth so many times isn't.

So here we are again today, fighting to save lives. Whose? Four years ago we were fed more war mongering fodder and told we had to send our guys back to war again because Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction that posed a direct and immediate threat to our lives; to the peace and security of our country. Blah, blah. They’re coming to get us again so we have to get them first…blah, blah. Four years later, 3,200 more young Americans are dead, and 30,000 more have been wounded. I don't want to even think about the innocent lives lost in all of this muscle flexing. The "collateral damage" count.

We all know, if we’re honest with ourselves that is, that we went to war based on a lie. And now instead of saving more lives, Mr. Bush asks us to be patient; Congress diddles around over nonbinding resolutions and it seems once more there will be no end to this.

These soldiers in Iraq today are dying for the same reason the men and women in Vietnam did – arrogant government power brokers that are either too ignorant or too cowardly to separate the rhetoric of patriotism from the real essence of patriotism. Why should we really worry about terrorists taking American lives? Our own government is doing a bang-up job of that for us! Our soldiers die because of a Hollywood fantasy version of the ‘noble fight’ and it has been repeatedly trotted out to us by war mongering leaders. And on this Memorial Day we again honor those heroes who can’t be a part of it. They are no longer alive to share anything with us.

I think if we really want to honor our fallen heroes properly, we need to try a little harder to keep any more of them from falling in the first place. We might try to be less gullible and ready to believe classical oratory when politicians and generals tell us the next war is necessary. We might take a moment to consider that the ones who start these wars for peace are seldom the ones who take part in any of the killing - or any of the dying.



**I would also like to thank Signe Wilkinson for the use of her insightful cartoon.

Gordie's Reckless Daughter

I always remember my mother hollering from the front door..."If you get hit by a car and die, young lady, I'm going to kill you!" Well, the funny thing about that was that I never thought about the absurdity of the remark; I was more worried about her killing me than a car doing it. I knew I was safe in the road, otherwise I wouldn't have been out there. But my Mom when she was mad? Ho boy! That was a real nightmare!

I always knew I'd be alright no matter what I endeavored to do, I was just that sure of myself. Whether it was hanging from the rafters of a barn or walking rooftops playing pirates, I was as sure-footed as your most able-bodied cat. And it's an amazing thing...when you're that confident of yourself, you are infallible. Even if you slip up and nearly plunge from whatever precipice you're enjoying, your confidence gives you the ability to gain purchase and save your hide. From senselessly diving off a cliff into unknown waters, to racing down a mountainside without knowing where it ended, the thought that it may be dangerous never once crossed my mind. Amazing as it seems, I did survive this and now sit to blog about it.

All these things go through my mind today as I think again of Steve Irwin and the unsafe things he did almost daily. And now he is no longer with us because he was taken doing something that was considered safe by everyone. It almost makes me nervous to sit on my chair.