For Egypt

Obetrol_Give the Kids What They Want by Iburiedpaul

Captain Beefheart's 10 Commandments of Guitar Playing

1. Listen to the birds. 


That's where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren't going anywhere.

2. Your guitar is not really a guitar Your guitar is a divining rod. 


Use it to find spirits in the other world and bring them over. A guitar is also a fishing rod. If you're good, you'll land a big one.

3. Practice in front of a bush 


Wait until the moon is out, then go outside, eat a multi-grained bread and play your guitar to a bush. If the bush dosen't shake, eat another piece of bread.

4. Walk with the devil 


Old Delta blues players referred to guitar amplifiers as the "devil box." And they were right. You have to be an equal opportunity employer in terms of who you're bringing over from the other side. Electricity attracts devils and demons. Other instruments attract other spirits. An acoustic guitar attracts Casper. A mandolin attracts Wendy. But an electric guitar attracts Beelzebub.

5. If you're guilty of thinking, you're out 


If your brain is part of the process, you're missing it. You should play like a drowning man, struggling to reach shore. If you can trap that feeling, then you have something that is fur bearing.

6. Never point your guitar at anyone 


Your instrument has more clout than lightning. Just hit a big chord then run outside to hear it. But make sure you are not standing in an open field.

7. Always carry a church key 


That's your key-man clause. Like One String Sam. He's one. He was a Detroit street musician who played in the fifties on a homemade instrument. His song "I Need a Hundred Dollars" is warm pie. Another key to the church is Hubert Sumlin, Howlin' Wolf's guitar player. He just stands there like the Statue of Liberty-making you want to look up her dress the whole time to see how he's doing it.

8. Don't wipe the sweat off your instrument 


You need that stink on there. Then you have to get that stink onto your music.

9. Keep your guitar in a dark place


When you're not playing your guitar, cover it and keep it in a dark place. If you don't play your guitar for more than a day, be sure you put a saucer of water in with it.

10. You gotta have a hood for your engine 


Keep that hat on. A hat is a pressure cooker. If you have a roof on your house, the hot air can't escape. Even a lima bean has to have a piece of wet paper around it to make it grow.

via WFMU

An appreciation by Marc Masters

The Frozen Tennis Courts of Darien

Snow Covered Tennis Courts
Originally uploaded by derickcarss

I was once a young man here,
under different stars.

stone walls crisscross bare December woods
the industry of long-departed hands
dividing fields
creating boundaries
rendered meaningless over time.

centuries of toil
culminate in an inflatable plastic snowman.

Blues for Matt

Matthew Reid Gauker

Two songs from my cousin Matt who died last week.

When I was 14, Matt gave me a copy of "Loaded" by the Velvet Underground. I'd never heard anything so good. He changed my life.

Our Garden: The Video

Snow!!

picture by stereogab

The Great Harvest

A Life Ends

A week ago today I got a phone call that I'll remember forever. It was my brother calling to tell me our father had died. I stood on the street in the rain and tried to comprehend the news.

Here's the obituary we wrote for the local paper:

Wendell Harvey Jones, 70, of Ridgefield, husband of Barbara (Johnson) Jones died on Thursday evening, April 3, 2008 at his home.

Mr. Jones was born in LeSeuer, MN on July 21, 1937. He was the son of Harvey and Clara (Haas) Jones.

While attending the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, he met his wife, Barbara. They were married in January of 1960. After graduating from the University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in History in 1960, he served as an officer in the U.S. Marine Corps from 1960 to 1963. In 1964, he obtained a Bachelor of Foreign Trade from Thunderbird School of Global Management.

In 1966 Mr. Jones joined the U.S. State Department as a Foreign Service Officer. From 1967 through 1968 he served as Vice Counsel and Second Secretary at the American Embassy in Jidda, Saudi Arabia. After returning to the United States, Mr. Jones pursued a career in international finance in New York City, working as a banker until 2000. He later became a substitute teacher in the Ridgefield and Danbury School systems and was briefly director of the Ridgefield Discovery Center.

Mr. Jones was an avid outdoorsman, hiking many of the peaks of New England in the summer and cross-country skiing in the winter. He instilled this love of nature in his children, who accompanied him on many family camping expeditions, from California to Maine.

As a lifelong music fan, Mr. Jones was particularly fond of country and western and rock and roll. His favorite artists included Johnny Cash, Neil Young and the Rolling Stones. He was known to often have his nose in at least three books at once, preferring historical tomes over fiction. On the weekends, he liked to cook, often following recipes clipped from the New York Times.

An area resident since 1976, he had been a resident of Ridgefield for the past twenty-two years, coming from Redding. He was a member of the First Congregational Church of Ridgefield.

In addition to his wife Barbara of 48 years, he is survived by two sons; Barrett Wendell Jones and his wife Gabriela Schneider of Washington, DC and Brendan Ronald Jones and his wife Susannah of New York, NY, a brother, Ronald A. Jones and his wife Kay of Lake Jackson, TX as well as nieces and nephews.

A memorial service will take place at noon on April 9 at the First Congregational Church of Ridgefield.

The family will receive friends following the service in Lund Hall of the First Congregational Church.

Internment will take place in Mapleshade Cemetery, Ridgefield at the direction of the family.

In lieu of flowers, his family asks that any contributions be made to the Appalachian Mountain Club, 5 Joy Street, Boston, MA 02108 (617-523-0655; http://www.outdoors.org).

They Say It's Your Birthday

my church is everywhere

happy easter

Meditations on the Lunar Eclipse

As Stereogab and I stood outside watching the lunar eclipse, I thought about how much things have changed.

In other ages, an eclipse was a terrifying event.

American Indians believed that a lunar eclipse spawned a negative essence that spread over the world. If a particle of this essence landed on a cooking pot, sickness would result. So they turned all their pots over to avoid contamination and threw out their water supplies, believing they'd been tainted with this negative essence.

While we stood outside watching the moon disappear, our neighbors sat inside watching television. Cars drove by, the Metro came and went, life went on just like any other Wednesday night.

I suppose I should be glad that Science has triumphed over Superstition. But is science the reason people don't get up from the couch to watch a lunar eclipse? I read recently that 1 in 5 American adults believe the sun revolves around the earth. So maybe science isn't the reason. Maybe people have become so disconnected that they don't notice (or don't care about) the patterns of nature.

That is really terrifying.

Solstice

Ice forming on sea near Lauttasaari.
Originally uploaded by HyperBob

we've arrived at the shortest day. it's been a fun round trip. now we're heading out of the darkness back towards summer.

Street Hassle

Dupont Circle & 19th Street, Thursday 12:15 pm:

Lady Panhandler: Spare some change? I like you!
Me: Sorry, no change.
Lady Panhandler: I don't like you. Fuck you!

Two blocks further south...

Male Panhandler: Merry Christmas, spare some change?
Me: Sorry, no change.
Male Panhandler: Asshole!

Winter Arrives Today at 7:22 P.M. Eastern Standard Time

Got Sun ?
Originally uploaded by sirchuckles.

Happy Solstice!

Halloween Death Trip

As October slides into the dark night of November we gather tonight to celebrate the onset of darkness dressed as skeletons, devils, witches, and, uh, beer cans.