Dec. 11, 2011—-
The most memorable place I’ve had sex is atop Mount Tamalpais, overlooking the East Bay in Marin County, Calif.
Like all magical moments, it wasn’t supposed to happen.
The weathered coastal mountain peaks at 2,500 feet. We drove about three-quarters of the way up Mount Tam and parked at a scenic turnaround. We hiked the rest of the way.
We sat down to rest on a grassy slope. She rolled out a blue and white blanket for a picnic. The blanket matched the azure skies, a contrast to the fog we saw over San Francisco. We talked about poetry, free birds and the songs of Greg Brown. We tried to scare each other with rumors about the late [...]
Nov. 29, 2011—
November in Chicago brings me down, down, down. Lower than Herman Cain’s pants.
Its been that way since I was a teenager. I remember getting up at seven on a mid-November Saturday morning and walking in a dark drizzle to take SAT tests at Naperville Central High School to gain entrance in a college I would never attend. I was too sleepy and confused to take a test. I felt like I was going fishing.
I’ve since tried to travel to sunnier climates in November. Several years ago I salvaged a tricked out tiki bar and had it restored with ambient red lights and bright bamboo to cheer me up on dark November days.
My turntable always [...]
October 11, 2011—
The heart hangs like a thick branch of a cypress tree
over a wake in the narrow Mobile River.
Looking at the water and the sky
like the space between now and then.
*
Did you see the turkey vulture?
Flying over the side of the freedom highway. Look!
Maybe you were sleeping to a Mavis Staples lullaby
as I drove off into another day.
*
My father always said to stay cool.
He has the warmest of souls
He now sleeps and rests a trembling arm
And unforgiving legs that showed me the way.
*
Decency is the tributary into a sea of understanding.
He [...]
Oct. 3, 2011—
Travel is a stream of consciousness thing.
That’s what I was doing late Friday night when I was sitting alone at the Terrace Bar at Pioneer Place in downtown St. Cloud, Minn. Nightdreaming.
The bartender asked me if I had seen “The King.”
Well, of course I have been to Memphis. But he was referring to the monster porcelain floor urinal on the second floor of the former Elks Club, 22 5th Ave. South not far from the Mississippi River.
I normally don’t hang out at urinals. The only memorable urinal I have seen is the rock waterfall urinal accented by clamshell sinks at the technicolor Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, Calif. That [...]
Sept. 19, 2011—
The guy down at the middle of the bar told his friend how he didn’t do anything this summer. I overheard it because the bar is as small as a penny in a fountain.
I asked Jackie for a bar napkin. It was interesting that in a season as compacted as summer in Chicago you can’t do anything.
Bar napkins are good for three things: wiping up junk, drying tears and aborbing thoughts. With a borrowed blue pen I jotted down some of the things I hadn’t done this summer:
Missed seeing the Cubs win much. Did not go to the historic Centennial Beach in Naperville, nor did I see Russell Crowe swim at ‘The Beach’ when he was living in the [...]
Bad to the bone. Talkzone: Blues & Baseball With George Thorogood
August 17, 2011—
DES MOINES, Ia.—-If it had been up to me I would have carved Southern Belle-isious chef Paula Deen out of a block of butter at the Iowa State Fair.
But like an ambitious diet, or big workout program it wasn’t meant to be.
I was invited to be a ringer in Monday’s “Battle of the Butter,” held daily on the fairgrounds in conjunction with the 100th anniversary of the fair’s fabled butter cow.
I absolutely love the Iowa State Fair, which runs through Aug. 21. I love pork chops on a stick, red velvet funnel cake and the smell of livestock. I attended the “Nostalgic Comfort Food” competition sponsored by the Brass Armadillo Antique [...]
August 4, 2011—
I’m sure you have a ritual, too.
Maybe it is a weekly yoga class or a spot near the foggy window of a neighborhood bar. Maybe you carry your laptop to a favorite coffee shop where you add a daring dash of cinnamon to your java.
Perhaps you check blog posts every night at 11.
One of my rituals was to stop by the Borders book store every Sunday in suburban Oak Brook outside of Chicago, The visit became part of my drive from the city to visit my elderly parents. I would collect my thoughts, comb through the music—this Borders had a great buyer who stocked the hard-to-find Skeletons from Springfield, Mo.—and I’d get lost in the travel [...]
July 22, 2011—
For me, the notion of bird watching was as impossible as marathon running.
Or playing golf.
But last spring I was standing in the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge near Pascagoula, Miss. looking at birds. For a long time. I did not have binoculars or a pith helmet. I was not on a writing assignment. I was on vacation with my girl friend. She wandered off as she was known to do. I can still see the intensity of her blue eyes attached to the skies in the distance.
i found a veranda near a marsh surrounded by wet pine savanna and pine scrub. It was late morning and puffy clouds rolled across the horizon like boxcars. [...]
July 4, 2011-
The essence of music is deep and free. Like sprinkles of dust underneath blasted firecrackers and cherry bombs there is a distant salsa beat.
An old blue bicycle takes you to a group of men in Humboldt Park on the west side of Chicago. They are across the way from the 16-inch softball players with the sweeping uppercut swings and the pregnant woman with a light white smock snapping in a gentle breeze.
It sounds like the old bicycle needs oil.
The men are huddled under a tree that shades them from a bright blue sky. No barbecue, no beer; just their drums, congas and heart beats. No tip jars.
Just commitment, a promise to keep [...]
It was his first Buffett concert, he squirted me with that gun.
June 26, 2011—
Children have the best dreams. They are pure and sometimes scary and what these visions lack in ambition they make up through innocence.
A Jimmy Buffett concert brings out the child in everyone—-if you are a willing participant.
Buffett is not for everyone. He is proud to play the role of jester, and his crowd is often an intoxicated court. He will never be Pitchfork-approved, but I argue music is a random adventure. Sometimes you eat steak, other times chicken, maybe pasta, or Thai. Some nights I like to hear Jimmy Buffett. Other nights I prefer Curtis [...]
This is an edited version of an essay I wrote for my upcoming column for the Kane County Cougars of the Midwest League.
June 21, 2011
DAYTON, Ohio—-Baseball Hall of Fame writer Hal McCoy has covered 7,000 Cincinnati Reds games in his 39 year career with the Dayton Daily News.
He knows every game is as different as a cloud in the summer sky.
In late May I took McCoy to a Dayton Dragons game at Fifth Third Field in Dayton. McCoy, 70, said he is semi-retired but he still does a popular “Real McCoy” blog for the Daily News and appears on the Fox Sports affiliate in Cincinnati.
He is legally blind.
He said it was the first time he [...]
June 10, 2011—
What’s up with grumpy record store guys?
Everyone has a bad day, but I’ve visited three record stores in three states this year and each experience was as uplifting as walking into an H&R Block office.
This cannot be a coincidence.
My conclusion was drawn at Magnolia Thunderpussy on High Street in Columbus, Ohio. It was around 11 a.m. a few Mondays ago, I was jacked up on coffee and Mountain Dew, the sun was shining and I was in a good mood. When I am on the road I go to record stores with the same M.O. as a visit to a Farmer’s Market. I ask questions about local stuff. I pick up newspapers, fanzines and buttons.
And I [...]
May 16, 2011-
I have seen a lot of life through the windshield of a car.
My 2005 Pontiac has been hit by a tornado north of Memphis, Tenn. I’ve driven through a few floods. I’ve seen a broken heart scattered on the side of the road like a shattered vase of orchids.
But what are the chances of a gecko hitting your windshield—-and surviving? This happened on my recent drive back to Chicago from New Orleans Jazz Fest.
John the Mailman and I were on I-55, south of Jackson, Miss. We were listening to the Creole String Beans swamp pop I bought at jazz fest. And damn, if I didn’t see this fine-sized gecko crawling across my windshield. Of course I swerved [...]
March 29, 2011—
I’m approaching my 39th consecutive Cubs opener.
Opening Day is a chance to forget about the apathy of Lou Piniella and the narcolepsy of Bobby Murcer—-the last Cub I booed mercilessly. On Opening Day I can still smell the fervid bleacher cigars of the early 1970s and touch the gritty newspapers people brought to the game. On Opening Day I see my father’s healthy legs leading me through the grandstands to see Hank Aaron. On Opening Day I see my unborn children. In Cubs hats.
Opening Day is the real chance to turn the page.
Buy new sheets. Send someone yellow flowers on a chance. It’s a grand day to renew distant friendships like Charley [...]
March 19, 2011—
When I talk to aspiring writers-journalists I make sure to mention Joseph Mitchell. He was a long time staff writer for The New Yorker magazine. He made every word count. His style was that of a calypso breeze.
Mitchell, who died in 1996 at the age of 88, was born on a tobacco farm in North Carolina. He dropped out of the University of North Carolina to become a journalist in New York City. He wrote about carnies, gypsies, strippers, vagabonds, drunks and oddballs in the side pocket. He illuminated the hearts who beat in dark shadows.
Its the kind of world today’s newspapers discourage writers from pursuing. I’ve given several writers [...]
March 16, 2011—
TEMPE, Az.—-Spring Training is about refreshing fundamentals: bunting, throwing, base running, the things I didn’t see the Cubs do in Tuesday’s loss to Colorado.
It’s not about being a slammer.
I discovered The Slammer weekly newspaper (www.theslammer.com) in February at a Mesa gas station as I was touring Arizona Spring Training parks. I’m safe in my hotel room tonight writing this so I don’t end up in The Slammer.
The Slammer is a 20-page newspaper featuring hundreds of mug shots. For a buck I picked up the [...]
MARCH 6, 2011—
There are no medals for Chicago soul singers. The emotive gospel based music has always been shot down by the city’s blues scene.
Someone was tellling me the other day about Bono’s choice cover Curtis Mayfield’s “People Get Ready” at a U2 concert in Chicago and asked the audience to sing along. I was told he was met mostly with a collective “Huh?”
Last night Lou Pride stood tall on the stage of the American Legion Hall Post 42 in Evanston, Ill. Pride is a locally overlooked 61-year-old soul singer who lives in north suburban Waukegan. He was appearing as part of the Bluegrass & Legends series held periodically at the roadhouse hall (ask [...]
The Red Lips at La Manigua Botanic Garden, Colombia.
They are used to make a poison—watch out. (Courtesy of Pilar Quintana)
MARCH 5, 2011—— The mirror in the hotel bathroom tells the truth. Who is that old piece of bark? Why are there dark rings of time under those eyes?
Almost all hotel bathroom mirrors are washed over with bright light. It creates an in your-face effect you don’t get at home. Sometimes it may be the luster of a clean loo, other times it could be the magical distance from a known place.
In the mid-1980s I stayed at the Covent Hotel, a men’s only pay-by-the-week flophouse near Lincoln Park in Chicago. I have seen cypress trees made [...]
Waiter crosses the street to get to the other side…..
Feb. 17, 2011—-
CALI, Colombia—-I have two nightlife memories of Cali, 2011. So far.
One involves aguardiente as it always does in Colombia.
The other is more unique.
I am on the 11th floor of the Hotel Obelisco in the El Penon hotel district of Cali. I have a balcony that looks over the Cali River and the busy Colombia avenue that coils through the dense neighborhood.
The boulevard’s speeding motorcycles and mopeds remind me of [...]
