Dude's got some nads

One last one for St. Paddy's day, eh?

Kickin' it old school, yo.

Jobs We've Had: Westside 'Chard and the Jukejoint Jimmies (Feat. Vee Den)

Vance and I had a brief musical career as blues musicians. Here’s a studio-released promo shot of me, known then as “Westside ‘Chard” and Vance, who was known as Vee Den. Playing with us are the legendary Muddy Water (to my left) and the fictitious Blind Lemon Jefferson. We were at the Stax studios in Memphis to record my song “Wee Paper Boat Blues,” which goes like this;

Well, it’s just a wee paper boat
float’n’ down that muddy Rio Grande.
Said it’s just a wee paper boat
afloatin’ down that dirty Rio Grande.
Gonna float my way to Mex’co
‘nd all the way out to Japan.

It used to be a letter
from that long gone gal o’ mine.
Jus’ an ol’ Dear Johnny letter
from that long gone gal o’ mine.
It ‘ppeared to say she’s leavin’
Shoulda took it as a sign.

The day she packed her suitcase,
Oh, I wept, I moaned, I begged.
Yeah, when she packed that suitcase, Lord,
I wept, I moaned, I begged.
She said “get off your knees, you tired fool
an’ le’ go my goddam legs”

The session was going good until we actually started to play. I sang the first line and Blind Lemon began projective vomiting and Muddy keeled over dead on the spot. Little known fact.

AIIIIGHGHGHG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!!
Breathe...
Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!! Aiiiiiigh!!!
This dude is like one month younger than me.

Speaking of being the shits, dig this.

One of the coolest actors ever was Steve McQueen, and one of the coolest movies, "the Great Escape," and one of the coolest scenes was when Steve McQueen jumped his bike over the barbed-wire fence.Now, Steve McQueen’s most famous motorcycle has been recreated by the Rickman Brothers, legendary themselves within the moto fraternity. Just 300 examples of the Desert Racer will be built, by hand, and retailing for £13,000 (US$18,000) a pop. The gearbox and engine are period Triumph TR6, with a single Amal carb, set in a Mk III Métisse frame. Forks are 35mm Cerianis with over seven inches of travel: BSA yokes position the handlebar behind the steering stem for better control. Wheel rims and exhausts are chromed, and the rear shocks are authentic Girling reproductions. Delicious, despite what some might say.

(Courtesy of {stolen from} www.bikeexif.com)

I'd love to have this bike, though the chrome does seem a bit much. I guess once you mudded it up a bit it would look respectable.

Irish-Americans Gear Up For 'The Reinforcin' O' The Stereotypes'

From "The Onion: America's Finest News Source"

Daughters, what can you say?

At long last, I present Ryan, my daughter. She is only the love of my life (yes, Janet, my wife is the love my life and so is my other daughter, Lia.) Ryan is back in North Carolina and hanging with Harry. Ryan has been the reason that I am even on the east coast. My wife Janet would have never meet me if it weren't for Ryan. I wouldn't be a landscaper if Ryan had not been born. So much revolves around my daughter Ryan, it would be very hard to imagine my life without her being here. I met Ryans mother in the late 80's and Ryan was born into a family with a sister that was 8 years old, Lia. Lia was the coolest kid I had ever met and I knew that we would be friends forever. I once asked Lia if she wanted me to adopt her and give her my last name and at the time she wanted to stay a Saborski, no problem. Both girls were my daughters in my mind. The only 'steps' we had were on the front porch. Ryan, Lia and I went through some very difficult times together but managed to come out the other side in one piece. Lia is living in Ohio and Ryan is ready to embark on a new life in North Carolina with Harry. I'm proud of my girls and wouldn't have them be any other way than the way they are right now. I love you girls. Peace.

Happy St. Patrick's Day from a Manky Scots Git

Ceud Mille Failte!
Here's Rick, sporting the Ancient Hunting Tartan of Clan MacFarlane (from his mother's side.)
It has been said that the Clan MacFarlane traces its history to ancient Ireland among Celtic heroes who came originally from Spain. Alwyn Mor, first earl of Lennox was said to be the great grandson of Mainey Leamna, the son of Conc, King of Munster, himself fifth in descent from Con of the Hundred Battles, King of Ireland.
That there is our crest -- some half-crazed "demi-savage brandishing in his dexter a broad sword Proper and pointing with his sinister to an Imperial Crown" which, as the motto declares, "This I'll defend" (referring to the crown of Bonnie Prince Charlie.)Here's a drawing of a MacFarlane from the 1800s.

The Irish lineage is one possibility (unproven.) most likely it was a Saxon one. Also...

The 11th Chief and many of his clansmen fell at Flodden in 1513. The MacFarlanes later opposed the English at the Battle of Pinkie in 1547 where Duncan the 13th Chief and his uncle were killed along with many others. After the murder of Henry Darnley, Mary Queen of Scots' second husband, the MacFarlanes opposed the Queen and were noted for their gallantry at the Battle of Langside in 1568.

That's right, chumps; The Battle of PINKIE!We were there, kiciking ass and taking names. Furthermore...

For much of their history, the MacFarlanes were a very turbulent lot. Their rallying cry, "Loch Sloy", signalled many a night raid to "collect" cattle from their richer neighbors to the south and east. Their march-piobaireachd " Thogail nam Bo theid sinn" (To Lift the Cows We Shall Go) gives ample notice of intent. They were so competent that the full moon was known as "MacFarlane's Lantern".

The MacFarlane's homeland is just the other side of Loch Lomond (Me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. Yeah. That one.) from the MacGregors (of Rob Roy fame.)

Happy St. Pats........

Irish women, they run the spectrum from ugly to "very nice." On this holiday, I will let you know that I am half Irish and part Mexican. What a combo, I don't know if I should drink or mow the lawn, prehaps both. Clyde Kelly was my great, great grandfather who homesteaded in what is present day Nebraska. Ella Kelly, my great grandmother was in the first graduating class of registered nurses in the state of Nebraska. The Kelly motto, as my cousin Lyle "Kit" Emory would remind us was; You can always tell the Kelly girls, they've ten toes up and the Kelly boys are always ten toes down. Amen!

Albuquerque Civic Auditorium: A Response to Vance's Concert Post

I was originally going to just post this as a comment to Vance's post about concerts, but it really drifts into the realm of Moonpie Chronicle material.
I saw Motley Crue about 4 years ago and was up pretty close -- in a private box at Journal Pavilion. Any concert venue with a corporate sponsorship must be automatically disqualified for this discussion, even though I had VIP passes courtesy of the corporate sponsor. There were a shitload of girls who treated the show like it was festival seating in order to be able to flash the boys in the band.

But, yeah, I know what Vance means when he's talking about going to a concert. I think the old Civic Auditorium in Albuquerque was one of the best venues for that sort of thing. I saw my first concert there (Seals and Crofts). One of the last ones there was The Pretenders (original lineup) in the early 80s. Totally awesome. Wikipedia says:

Albuquerque Civic Auditorium was an indoor arena located in Albuquerque, New Mexico. With a capacity of 6,000. The auditorium was notable for its innovative construction, as the dome was created by pouring concrete over sand. Afterwards, the hill of sand was removed. The venue opened on April 27, 1957, with the Albuquerque Civic Symphony playing the opening night. The Albuquerque Civic Auditorium was demolished in 1987.

If you've not started the music player above, do it now. It's an entire set of the Grateful Dead live at Albuquerque Civic Auditorium on November 17, 1971. No, we weren't there, but it just reflects the spirit of the times. The poster at the top is from when Hendrix played the civic in 1970. Zeppelin played it a year earlier.

The best concert I saw there, and one that is probably tied for best ever (with Queen in Seattle, and Crosby Stills and Nash at Tingley Coliseum) was the night Vance and I went to see Brewer & Shipley (of One Toke Over The Line fame), Arlo Guthrie, and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (before they became a mediocre country act.) This was in the spring of 1976. I was on crutches, my leg in a cast from a hiking fall. There was this fellow there who took me under his wing (because he'd had a brother who had a bad leg or something). Anyway, he bought us beer and shared his weed. It was awesome. I remember Arlo singing "The Story of Reuben Clamzo & His Strange Daughter in the Key of A." The audience was singing the refrain, which was "Clamzo me boys Clamzo." (Yeah, whatever. For the entire lyrics, go to http://www.arlo.net) Anyway, it was just such an awesome evening, and the buzz was just right. I remember looking over to Vance and sharing this total look of "This is the absolute shits" Big old possum-eating grins pasted across our mugs.

We had to leave shortly after NGDB started their set. It occurs to me now that one of us was not supposed to be there. I’m thinking it was me, because The Jacqueline was the one who came and picked us up.

To me, the destruction of the Civic was some kind of an end of an era that, I'm sure, every generation encounters. The place hadn't run a concert in years, having been purchased by St. Joseph's hospital, who viewed it as prime parking space. Still, there was just something about that place, about being there in that atmosphere that gave you some kind of hope for your future. Like maybe this was what you'd do for the rest of your life—which at the time seemed like a pretty cool idea. I guess it still does. Who could complain about being in a dark place with 6,000 like-minded individuals, listening to—and singing along with—some of your favorite musicians, all the while drinking cups of beer and smoking dope. Sure, that may not be what life is all about, but if you could somehow do that the rest of your life, would it be all that bad.

And, you know, I guess in the end, the demolition of the Civic really did signal the end of an era. Not long after the auditorium fell to the earth,, an exotic, erotic dancer went and led me to Jesus; A true story, but one for another day.