Footprint

The IMF has been here. Read all about it.

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Progress is Good

Went intense on Lee Santa's manuscript the past two days, and I think I have it locked in.

Sent him a PDF to mark up.

I like this book.

I think "A Journey Into Jazz:  Anecdotes, Notes and Photos of a Jazz Fan" has a nice ring to it.  Some of the anecdotes are pretty darn funny, too.

Another nice thing is the book shows Santa's progression as a photographer.  He started shooting his first jazz concerts shortly after taking up photography while in the U.S. Army, 1965-1968.

He was in Copenhagen taking his first photos of Dexter Gordon before he really knew what he was doing. The early work is kind of rough, but necessary to demonstrate his passion.  This book has a nice narrative.

This 2011 photo of his friend, pianist Burton Greene, shows us where Santa is today.


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Question of the Day

If the War on Poverty is 50 years old today, how old is the War on Poor People?

Be careful here. It's a trick question, but RBP welcomes your responses.



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Tower Records

The Original Tower Theater Building and Record Store, Sacramento, by Lee Santa.

This picture will appear in Lee's "A Journey into Jazz" one day soon, likely by Feb. if things go as planned.  If not then, shortly thereafter.

I'm heavily into editing the book and making good progress of late. Actually the book reads fine now; it's a matter of placing the photos. Toyed with several ideas on this before finding a solution, I think. Photos with side bar quotes from the text referencing the various artists therein.

Intense work, and thus I'm riddled with anxiety.  So we shall see...

Lee more or less grew up in Tower Records, listening to some of his favorite jazz artists in the listening booths, where he made sure he was good and stoned on pot so that he might understand the music.


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Good Read/Nick Turse

A dark, depressing, yet essential read.

With a thorough scrutiny of archival documents and other primary sources, including many interviews with the U.S. soldiers and Vietnamese citizens who were there, Nick Turse makes a condemning case against the U.S. in the Vietnam War--or as it is referred to in Vietnam, the American War.

We knew it was a mistake, some of us sooner than others, but rarely is the scope of the mistake stated this clearly and with such abundant evidence.

This is a legacy many Americans continue to ignore, one that should continue to be exposed for its treacherous mythologies and our tendency to smooth over its horrific reality.


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One Song

Don't matter where you are, where you've been, or where you're going.

The truth is always in front of you.



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I'm Number One

Hallahoo, hallahay, I'm number one on the list today.

That is number one on the hold list at the library for the third season of Treme, the dynamic Dick Simon and Eric Overmyer-produced, fictionalized account of post-Katrina New Orleans from HBO.

Any day now, any day now, I shall be released...from my electronic media funk.

The five-episode fourth season, which wrapped up the serial late last month, awaits.  But the library won't have that for months.

I guess it is always a matter of personal taste, but I consider Treme, and Simon's The Wire before it, to be some of the greatest television ever produced.  Not that I've seen it all, because I haven't.

Nevertheless...

Right up there with anything Paddy Chayefsky ever put out back in the day, and that is saying something for a hard-to-please joker and huge Chayefsky disciple like me.


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Neil

With the help of Charles "Chuckie" Lucas, during football Saturday.


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Snowy Fields

Ah, over two feet of snow in New England.

I'm reminded of the days forty years ago when I lived in Maine.  I loved it, despite living in shacks that let the cold wind in like sieves, when ten or more blankets at night weren't enough at times.

The pronounced seasons were wonderful, and a big snowfall always excited me as much as autumn's colors or a summer on the beach.  I liked walking through my neighborhoods in Augusta, Waterville and Portland after a big storm.

I loved the sound of walking on snow.

I recall riding daily to Augusta from Portland with a legislator who drove faster in the stuff than I would have liked, but he was expert, talking and driving without concern, controlling the elements rather than being intimidated by them as happens in places unaccustomed to snow.

Later, I would take my own clunker to the back roads and test my new awareness of how to drive in the stuff.

At night, I enjoyed a nip of a warm drink, something with coffee in it, from the vantage of a large window in a warm pub.

Even the sight of warm exhaust spewing from a tailpipe, mingling with the cold air, gave me pleasure, a ghastly thing to admit in the age of global warming.

Then, as now, I wasn't as much concerned with commerce as I was with the hopefulness of a clean, white snow-pack that did not turn ugly until day three, or not at all if the storms came through in succession and you might drive into the country to have a closeup view of the snowy landscape.

For the most part, life was routine after a storm anyway.

I enjoyed lolling in bed with Lyn or Mary, the two women whose company I most enjoyed in those days, older women who knew how to take care of a shivering younger man from Oregon.

I liked the sound of snowplows gearing up at dawn.

I'd still be there, but I got homesick for this place, this Portland that almost called itself Boston when the founding fathers couldn't make up their minds.

I wonder how life would have unfolded had I stayed there?

I've said it before, I might go back there (but probably not) to live out my days.  Dying in a snowdrift might be better than a lot of the alternatives a man faces.

Coffee, Irish Whiskey, and a walk home becoming the perfect delirium...the solution.


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RRK

RRK in Italy, 1973.

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RRK

Lee Santa Photo, 1969

Rahsaan Roland Kirk

Gilded Cage, Sacramento, CA, October 3, 1969 (during the Gold Rush Rock Festival in Amador County, CA)

Rahsaan Roland Kirk, or RRK as he was known to his fans, was blind and one of the most vital and innovative musicians this planet has ever produced.  Over the course of his career, 1955 to his death in 1977, he was known for playing three saxophones simultaneously and often played a flute and a recorder (which he called a nose flute) simultaneously as well.  His ability to do circular breathing, where he could play continuously without pausing to take a breath, at times for several minutes, became legendary. 

In this lightly attended show at the Gilded Cage, Rahsaan was accompanied by pianist Ron Burton, bassist Vernon Martin,  drummer Steve Ellington, and percussionist Joe “Habao” Texador.

Unfortunately RRK had been booked during the conflicting Gold Rush Rock Festival in Amador County, resulting in a  poor turnout.  At the conclusion of the evening's session I went over to talk to the bass player, Vernon Martin.  Almost immediately he asked me if I could get him some herb.  I optimistically said I could and he told me where they were staying (the Sacramento Inn just off Arden Way in North Sacramento) and their room number.

It turned out I was unable to find the weed for Vernon that evening, but my time mingling with the band wasn't over.

The next morning after waking and reflecting on the previous evening and the poor turnout, I got the idea to take Rahsaan to KZAP radio station for an interview.  A free form station, KZAP was located on the top floor of the Elks building in downtown Sacramento.  It was not uncommon for one to hear the station mix a classical piece followed by a psychedelic rock track followed by a jazz or blues tune.

I called the station and presented the idea to the programmer. I then called RRK's room and when someone answered the phone, I asked if I was speaking to “Roland Kirk?"  He corrected me, saying "it is Rahsaan Roland Kirk".  I then presented the KZAP interview idea to him.  He was hesitant at first, saying that it was Saturday and his day off.   After some prodding and cajoling by me, a stranger, he agreed to the interview. I called the station again and set up a time for the interview for that afternoon.

I drove to the Sacramento Inn to pick up Rahsaan and was invited into his room.  Joe Texador and Vernon Martin were there and Rahsaan was listening to the Raiders/Dolphins football game on TV. After our introductions and some small talk, I recall Rahsaan commenting that when he came back in a second life he wanted to come back as a football player, and we all had a good laugh.

We (RRK, Joe Texador and I) arrived at the station sometime in the early afternoon and it wasn’t long before the DJ put Rahsaan on the air.  Rahsaan presented his yet-to-be released album Volunteered Slavery during the interview and the DJ played three or four selections, asking questions of Rahsaan between cuts.  The entire segment must have lasted about 30 minutes.

When we returned to the Sacramento Inn, Rahsaan invited me into his room once more because he wanted to give me a copy of his album, Here Comes the Whistleman.  I ask him to autograph it for me.  Joe Texador did the writing while Rahsaan held the pencil’s eraser and whispered what he wanted to say into Joe's ear:  "To Lee, may we see fit to vibrate on every level, Rahsaan Roland Kirk."

Rahsaan Roland Kirk

Both/And Club, on Divisadero Street near Oak Street, San Francisco, Oct., 1969

The group’s personnel were the same as at the Gilded Gage on October 3rd.

During this concert, RRK played three saxophones simultaneously, popped a clarinet in the corner of his mouth and played that as well.  It was a mind-boggling display of virtuosity and technique, made all the more remarkable by the clarity and separation of his sound—a wonderful collage of four instruments that had I not seen it I would have believed produced by a quartet.

A few days prior to this session, I had gone before the Student Council at Sacramento City College, where I was a student, and suggested bringing RRK to the school.  The Student Council agreed to invite Kirk to campus and drew up a contract that I brought with me to the Both/And Club.

Rahsaan Roland Kirk

Sacramento City College, November 4, 1969

Once again the personnel were the same as the Oct. 3 Gilded Gage concert.

Despite his blindness, Rahsaan had an uncanny ability to look within a person.  Every time I would meet up with him and we shook hands, Rahsaan would hold on to my hand for a few seconds and rub my palm with his thumb.  It was somewhat unsettling as I felt totally exposed when he did that.  It was as though Rahsaan was looking right into my inner self.

A couple of hours prior to the concert I drove Vernon Martin to a friend's house to get some smoke.  My friend's name was Lucky and the neighborhood he lived in was in a rough area, where break-ins were not uncommon.   When we got there one of Lucky's roommates said he was taking a bath.  Showing his audacious sense of humor, Vernon charged into the bathroom. "Where’s Lucky? Where’s Lucky?" he demanded to know.  Now, Vernon was a big dude, and when he charged into the bathroom the expression on Lucky's face was priceless.  Vernon had scared the shit out of Lucky, who must have thought he was being robbed at that very moment.  Then he saw me and he realized he was being had.  Still, he did not know Vernon from Adam and could not have been more surprised and flustered when Vernon subsequently snatched him from the tub and gave him a big old hug.  I’ve never forgotten that image, the sight of a big black man the size of an NFL lineman hugging poor, naked, soaking-wet Lucky.  And there wasn’t a damn thing Lucky could do to get out of it.

Well, we got what Vernon wanted and headed back to SCC.

Back at the Performing Arts Center it was getting close to start time for the concert and Rahsaan was nowhere to be found.  That made me nervous, and I asked Steve Ellington where he was.  Steve informed me Rahsaan had gone to the Audio/Visual department.  I asked why and he said Rahsaan was trying to learn where his name came from.

Sometime before that night I had told Rahsaan about Sun Ra speaking in one of my classes.  I’d explained that at one point during his lecture Sun Ra had talked about the origins of his name.  I’d mentioned that a tape of the lecture was held in the school’s Audio/Visual department.  I had not made the connection until then that Rah-saan and Sun Ra had the same syllables, only in reverse order.  After the concert Rahsaan asked me to see if I could get a copy of the tape and send it to his home in New Jersey, which I did.

The concert turned out fantastic and the audience really got into it.  At one point near the end of the concert, Rahsaan started talking about giving flowers to the living and giving credit to people before they die.  I could tell by the way his talk was unfolding that he was talking about me.  I was standing at stage left, where I’d been photographing the show, and next to me stood my friend, Lynette.  I had the sense that Rahsaan was about to call me up to the stage to thank me for organizing the gig.  When he indeed called me up I handed my camera to Lynette and jumped onto the stage.  Vernon gave me a big bear hug like the one I’d seen him give Lucky earlier in the day, and Rahsaan asked the crowd to give me a round of applause.  It was of course an unforgettable experience.  

After the concert the band and I went to Sam's Hofbrau on L Street in downtown Sacramento.  Sam’s was a cafeteria style restaurant where you had to stand in a line to get your food.  After finishing our food Rahsaan asked me to show him to the bathroom.  Once inside he had me stand him in front of the urinal. Thus I learned how a blind person orients himself to a urinal, using the back of the hand to feel out the terrain.

After leaving Sam's Hofbrau we walked up L Street to my car.  Rahsaan pulled an object from his coat pocket.  It turned out to be a little electronic laugh box.  He pushed the button on its side and we all laughed along with the box.  The night had been a rousing success.  It had filled Rahsaan and his sidemen with tremendous joy.

A joy I felt as well.

Lee Santa, from A Journey into Jazz.

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Monk

Good stuff.


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A Weird Situation

The UK's Guardian and the New York Times rarely see eye-to-eye about anything, but what do you know?

These are indeed special times, or a miracle has happened.

Maybe we're recovering from whatever it is that ails us...


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What Do We Really Know?

A good suggestion comes from a reader of today's Ralph Nader list of books to read this year.

This business definitely has my curiosity.







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Ralph's List for the New Year

I'll try to get to some of these this year.

How about you?








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