landscape tripping day 4

yes, of course, the days haven’t matched.  what else is new?  though the story has been told from the beginning to the end.  this is the end my gentle friends, the end.  cue the doors.  cue martin.  cue lightning.  action.

jimmy actually showed up early for the final go round.  he wanted out of the madness as much as i did.  plus he was sportin’ a tood.  a big one.  i had expected nothing less after the past days deals gone south into the bad juju mystic. 

we should be done by 2:30pm today.  jimmy’s words.

problem being with jimmy he’s a space cadet and scattered at best.  ok.  on a good day, that is. 

i really didn’t care what his problem was.  sure he’s a larger size dude than me but righteousness always wins out.  right?  um, a huh(?).

i was ready to work.  as usual he was all over the map.  hard to get him concentrate on one job at a time.  sure there was one job.  but there’s lots of small ones inside the big one.  sane folks understand this.  it’s a work in progress.  a little job here in order to do the next bigger job.  focus.  right?

not jimmy.  too much tood.  and angst. 

i need money for the dump fees.

yeah, ok.  um, just remember if i didn’t have a triple a card you would still probably be in jail.

what?

yeah, you forgot.  i told you the cop wanted to send you and the truck to jail.  i was one of the reasons you never got that ticket to ride.  well, me and the triple a card.  plus i’ve let you store your stuff in my shed every night.  in fact, i picked all the shit up by myself the first night.  the sad cop day night.

look.  don’t give me any shit.  i’m giving you a $2,400 for what you got.  i’m losing money.

ah, yes, jimmy.  bidness man extraordinaire.  that was a silent thought.  in reality i ignored him.  work to be done.  plus if he had given me that number to start with he would have lost out to no handshake guy.  an even, perhaps, more freaky thought.  silence reigned. 

well, jimmy is scattered here and there.  bouncing about.  hard to nail him down.  this and that must be done.  his mexican helper and i let him riff for a bit. 

finally i’d had enough.  fuck this.  time to work.  damn it.  i needed to dump the flip flops and put some damn shoes on.  shit.  socks.  too.  shit time to work.  goddamn it.

i let jimmy scatter about and went inside to change into a sorta working shoe deal.  plus me nice sun hat.  a sporty number made of palm fronds or some damn thing.  close enough to straw for a straw boss.

hey, jimmy.  kill the weeds like you been yammering about and let’s dump some damn rock on the ground.  ok?  rock ‘n’ roll.

well, jimmy sorta found the note and got into the deal.  a bit slow at first but he did soar eventually.  i knew he would.  just the right amount of baby sitting and tood right back at him. 

things were going well.  rock going down very nicely.  more work than i’ve done in well over two years.  fuck it.  the old ass hole here can still kick out the jams when push comes to shove.  and i’d been fucking pushed. 

jimmy rose to the occasion.  doing a fine job and forgetting he was pissed and under bid the damn job.  i didn’t care.  i wanted them out of my hair and the job over.  no more.  please, no more.

i caught the mexican kid in the shed.  handed him $40.

here.  por tu.  no dice nada, a jimmy.

gracis, amigo.  no, no, dice nada.

the kid is a good worker and jimmy is lucky he puts up with jimmy’s insanity or what the fuck ever it is.  at some point yesterday i told jimmy he was lucky the kid didn’t go elsewhere to some big company and run his own crew and just stand there and point.  he’s that good.  jimmy sorta got it.  but not really.

anyways, with my help and goading jimmy finished yesterday.  just after 1pm.  well before his appointed hour.  i was worn out but it was worth it.  the deal had gone down. 

jimmy actually came around to my being his new best friend again.  fine.  he invited me to some catholic church deal tonight.  lots of babes our age he said.  thursday?  no, i can’t make it.  maybe some other time.

jimmy kept it up.  ok.  a luau in august. 

when?

august 16th a saturday.
 
where?

chino hills.  ann’s house.

um, i’m thinking, yeah, well. 

he says, i’ll drive.  lots of ladies will be there. 

jimmy doesn’t drink.  in case you ain’t noticed, i do.

i’m thinkin’, hmm.  this is good for at least one blog.  at least one blog for sure.  i’m a writer.  rock ‘n’ roll.

ok. jimmy, sure.  why not? 

jimmy was most happy.

i was most happy the way the rock garden turned out.  simple shit but clean.  my motto of sorts.

jimmy got paid.  i paid for the dump fees and gave him a double jackson and told him it was for his and helpers lunch tomorrow.  jimmy was happy and the helper winked at me.

yeah, the place looks nice.  there’s still minor shit out behind the place that needs to be done but it can wait.  i’ll call jimmy about it when the weather cools down some in october or november.

my life is back to normal or what resembles normal.  sure there’s august 16th coming up.  but i’m ready for it.  why not?  i’m after all a writer.

before i end this epsitle, i had been telling jimmy all along that the local cops were out for him.  he wasn’t amused and tsk tsked me.  well, there was some sorta something going down in the park yesterday.  local cops speeding about and the sheriff chopper over head while we were shoveling rock around my place.

when i was making an early dinner last night a local cop pulled up and stopped by my mailbox.  sat there for a minute.  y turned and split.  

i thought, jimmy.  chopper over head.  telling local cops what was going on in the park.  told em about the guys and the old pick up truck shoveling rocks about.  yeah.  local cops dealt with the heaviness of whatever and when it was done took a drive to my place in hopes jimmy was there in order to fuck with him.  yeah, jimmy, just like been telling you.

i called him last night.  it took a bit but he finally caught what i was telling him.  watch your six, jimmy.  ulo cops are looking for you.  just like i been saying.  be careful, jimmy.

last thing jimmy said to me was, i’ll call you about the luau.

yeah, jimmy, fine. 

jmh

landscape tripping day 3

here we are on day three of the landscaping of adventures.  day two turned out somewhat better than day one did.  though with the earthquake here in so calif maybe 13 or so miles down the road things were a bit shaky.  pun intended.

i am totally convinced that if i were not here during this adventure things probably would have gone south long ago.  yes, even more so than the first day.  well, ok.  make that the second day for those of you that haven’t been following along in any sort of way until today.  if that’s you stop now and start from the beginning.  please. 

yeah, if i hadn’t been there during the cop deal jimmy would probably still be in the can.  and he would have probably fallen down several times en route to said can.  if you get my drift.  if i hadn’t been around yesterday stuff he said he was gonna do would not have been done.  i had to remind him numerous times to spray industrial strength weed killer on the north side area before he finished the rocks. 

jimmy doesn’t show up until after 8:30am.  i’ve tried to get him here earlier.  no dice.  he has his own schedule for whatever reasons and it won’t be dicked with.  he’s supposed to finish up the job today.  i don’t see how he can but wonders never cease comes to mind. 

i had to play straw boss yesterday.  i even picked up a shovel and stuff helping out.  i want the damn job over and done with today.  i suppose today i’ll have to do it again.  more sun for those face carbuncles from my long ago youth and surfing days.  to late for sunscreen.  though i guess i ought to wear a straw hat if i’m gonna be a straw boss.  a working straw boss.  shit.

if jimmy wasn’t a space cadet i wouldn’t have to be reminding him ever few minutes that something needs to be done.  yesterday he was going to clean up everything nicely after the he was done for the day.

jimmy, what for?  you still have that pile of shit.

what pile of shit?

that large pile over there by the front steps.

oh, yeah.

he told me yesterday he has to finish the job here today.  he has another bigger job starting tomorrow.  i have visions of him leaving that pile of crap by the front steps with the words, i’ll be back to clean it up later.  a month from now the fucking pile will still be there and i’m leaving messages on his voice mail three times a day yelling at him to come and take the fucking shit away.  

i know i pissed him off yesterday.  i don’t care.  i may piss him off again today.  i don’t care.  he hasn’t been paid yet and he won’t be until i’m fucking happy.

don’t get me wrong what he’s done so far looks very nice.  well, connsidering what was here before just about anything would look nice.  no, he has done a good job all things considered.  he just needs to much baby sitting for my tastes.  i didn’t sign on to baby sit anyone. 

i wonder if i can get a vegas line on whether or not he finishes today and how long that pile of crap sits by the front steps?

jmh

landscape tripping day 2

this isn’t exactly day 2 of the deal but a continuation of day one.  or what happened after yesterday’s initial inauguration of the landscape follies.  yeah, follies.  stick with it kids.  however, on the other hand this might also be considered day 2 since it’s been almost 24 hours since the last blog. 

everything was going very well yesterday morning.  the guy showed up and worked his ass off cleaning out the old root problem on the north side of the place.  why the guy that built this new one didn’t bother to get rid of the roots when this was built is anybodies guess.  mine being he was being cheap.  unwilling to spend a few hundred more bucks to really actually clean the spot up.

anyways, landscape guy, from this point on will known only as, ‘jimmy’, not his real name.  but easier than typing landscape guy every third word from here on out. 

jimmy tells me things are going pretty good and he will go score some of the rocks a bit later in the morning.  i tell him i’ll go along for the ride and pay for them rather than him having to front the cash.  part of my end of the deal is paying for the materials.  he says fine i’ll let you know when i’m ready.

somewhere around noon there’s a knock at the back door and jimmy says let’s go.  fine.  now, jimmy has an old beat up 1977, i think, ford pick-up.  it’s seen some better days and this day wasn’t going to be one of the those better ones.  but i skip ahead. 

we are going south into chino to a top soil, rock, sand, mulch etc place that’s been around since i was a kid.  a nice family owned place.  jimmy is going to load up the back of the pick-up with a ton and a half of 3/4 gravel. it is after all a ton and a half pick-up.

jimmy has been in the area for a number of years.  not a homie vato like me but he’s been around.  and it turns out he knows a number of the same people i do.  so the drive to chino is spent talking about those folks.  a pleasant drive in the sun.

when we get to the place jimmy says let’s go look at their sample area and you can decide what you want out front.  i had decided on the palm springs rocks for out front because he told me there was some mica in the rocks and it looked pretty good.  but he wanted me to see the stuff and make a choice.  the palm spring stuff was fine.  either that or california gold but that was fifty bucks a scoop more.  jimmy, i’ll stick with the palm springs deal. 

we also looked at some stepping stones or pavers.  i figured i’d need some in a few places around the place.  so i decided on some charcoal colored ones that almost resembled some sort of real rock.  jimmy says he will need 20 of them to do the job.  fine. 

so we go in and do the deal.  all the rock and pavers came to about $300.  we picked up the gravel and jimmy is going back today to pick up the other stuff. 

so we head back north into ulo.  the truck is riding a bit better with all the weight but it’s sorta motor boating.  old guys like me will know what i mean by that.  jimmy didn’t.  i explained and he smiled and said i have air shocks on this and we’ll be fine.

well, things were fine up until we were almost back here.  no more than a short mile from here.  we crossed euclid ave at a stop light and as we were almost all the way across the truck sorta bottomed out a bit and something scraped.  about 50 yards further down the road the left rear tire blows.  loudly.

of course, jimmy doesn’t have a spare.  but even if he did with all the gravel in the back there’s no way it could be jacked up.  jimmy says he’ll just unload the gravel in the street and drive on the flat to this place where he buys used tires and get a new one and come back and pick the gravel up.  i’m like no spare?  used tires?  i know of the place.  i’d passed by it many times and always wondered, who would buy used tires?  now i know. 

however, we are on a busy street and i say well maybe we ought to dump it in the alley it might be better.  jimmy says we can ask the folks if they would mind.  sweet.  yeah, uh huh.  we hit the first house and no one is home.  we try another and get some old lady.  really old lady.  she says it’s ok but she then proceeded to call the cops.  but we don’t know this. 

ah, yes.  johnny law on the way and jimmy is dumping the gravel out in the ally.  well, this younger lady comes out and tells us her mom woke her up to lay the deal down but before she did that she called the cops.  ooofa.  younger lady is ok with the deal but just wanted us to know the cops were gonna show up.  she also gave us some bottled water. 

well, a cop shows up about the time jimmy was almost finished unloading the gravel.  the cop is not happy. 

what’s going on here?

i had a blow out and i’m unloading the gravel so i can drive to a tire shop and get a new one.  then i’ll come back and pick up the gravel.

i mean that seems reasonable to me.  right?  what the fuck else are jimmy and i gonna do?

the cop says, no you can’t do that. 

ah, why?  it’s ok with the lady in the house.

this isn’t private property.  it’s city property and you can’t just dump the gravel here.  someone might run into it and the city would be liable.  plus you can’t drive on a flat.

now jimmy isn’t happy at this point.  but jimmy has other issues about to hit the fan.  jimmy wants to know what is he supposed to do.  the cop says get the gravel back on the pick-up and call somebody to fix the flat or he, the cop, was gonna have jimmy’s truck towed and impounded.

i’m like fuck.  i’m having visions of my landscape project slip sliding away.  i try to talk to the cop but he’s having none of anything.  he understands my plight but the law is the law.  plus he’s not happy with jimmy’s now copped attitude.

i can understand jimmy getting pissed but it isn’t helping.  plus now the cop wants jimmy’s id and registration.  the other shoe is about to drop.  of course, jimmy has id and registration for the truck.  but it’s not with him.  it’s in his other car.  which happens to be at his home miles away.

this is turning to shit in a big way.  jimmy knows his drivers license number and gives it to the cop who runs it.  jimmy is pissed.  i’m telling him to just chill out.  jimmy wants to fuck with the cop.  i’m like are you really that fucking stupid?  you are gonna go to jail.  my landscape job will be half done and my gravel will be in the impound yard and jimmy will be in the can.  jesus fucking chrysler. 

i tell the cop i have triple a and the cop calls then or has dispatch call.  when tow truck shows up and the driver has bad news.  they can’t tow jimmy’s truck with the gravel in the back.  well, they can but it’s gonna cost a bundle and they won’t be responsible if anything goes south.

the cop gives jimmy the ultimatum.  ok.  figure out what you want to do and take care of it or i’m taking the truck in.  jimmy is even more pissed.  i try talking to the cop.  he says to me, are you friends with this guy?  i say not really he’s just doing my landscape job.  cop says well, i’m really close to just saying screw it and taking his truck in and maybe him if he doesn’t chill out.  if i just take the truck it’s gonna be at least $1,500 in fines.

i talk to jimmy again and tell him to fucking chill or he’s a goner.  now the third shoe is about to drop.  another cop shows up.  back up.  jimmy goes they are gonna search the truck.  why?  seems that back in the late 90’s jimmy had a .22 pistol in pieces that one of his old workers had left in the his truck in the glove box.  jimmy had been pulled over for a registration beef and the cops found the pistol.  in pieces but i suspect jimmy was being an ass hole so the cops turned it into a cop deal and jimmy ended up with it being dropped to a misdemeanor charge.  no wonder the cop wanted to know if i was jimmy’s buddy.

yeah, this is long in the tooth but what can i say?  the lady of the house tells jimmy he can unload the gravel in her drive way.  with that i can call triple a again and jimmy can get towed to his tire shop then come back and get the gravel.  yeah, jimmy, will have shoveled the ton and half back and forth several times. 

he’s really pissed now.  the cop tells me he’s really close to running jimmy in if he doesn’t stop being an ass hole.  i talk to jimmy and then talk to the triple a guy and i get him to drop me fairly close to here and i walk the rest of the way and get jimmy’s guy and a wheel barrel and some more shovels and and bring the shit back to jimmy so things will go a bit smoother. 

getting the wheel barrel in the trunk was a fun deal.  jimmy’s guy has more shovels than the two of them need.  i tell jimmy’s guy i ain’t shoveling any fucking gravel.  he laughs.  a good kid and we chat in spanish.     

well, things finally turned out ok.  jimmy got to the tire place thanks to my triple a card.  my gravel is now safely on his truck and will be back here in a few hours and the job goes on.  hopefully.  me?  when i got back here yesterday i had to pick up all of jimmy’s tools and shit and stick them in my shed.   i also got a nice sunburn from all the standing around and dealing, no make that, baby sitting jimmy yesterday.

a new day dawns and the further adventures of the landscape tripping deal begins.  sweet.  um, i won’t be riding anywhere with jimmy again.  count on it.

jmh

landscape tripping day 1

today is the day the landscaper guy and his hired guns show up and begin the transformation of my seedy tobacco road look around here.  it’s about time.  i was chatting with one of the lovely sisters from next door this morning.  yeah, dfr, finally, again.  but that’s a drift.  i told her that starting today she and the rest of their household wouldn’t have to look at my barren property interspersed with encroaching weeds and sundry squalor. 

she said that was fine and she didn’t really mind the weeds and stuff.  just being polite to the old addled neighbor i suppose.  she inquired just what i was putting in.  just rocks?  i’d mentioned that to her right after i moved in and probably the last chat we’d had other than waving and saying the requisite hi!, most normal folks endure and put up with.  i told her yeah, just rocks.  nothing living.  if i wanted to leave for a bit i could and not have to worry about coming home to dead plant material.  she said she would water.  all i had to do was come over and ask. 

i was thinking i probably should go over and ask something else but dad lives with the girls and i don’t know if he’s armed or not.  though the ladies are well over the age of consent.  but that’s for another time.
yes, dfr, that lovely bottle of vino you gave me sits aging in my cellar just waiting for the day those two or one of them ventures into my web.  my, my, my, said the spider to the fly…i hope she likes the way i hold my microphone.  sittin’ thinkin’… thanks to the glimmer twins for one of those songs that lives forever in the mind of a 60 year 16 year old.

weird tangents on this auspicious day.  i must be giddy with the approaching landscape.  the squalor was even getting to me.  fits of, god.  bleeding weeds.  then a frenzy of pulling the damn things out by their roots.  much too much work for an old ass hole in this so calif summer heat.  but no more of that.  time has come today…yeah.  (the brothers chambers or vice verse for those who haven’t a clue) god, i’m damn near apoplectic, as well, just like some sort of idiot.

thing is i just hope the guy shows up.  i’m pretty sure he will as i spoke to him last night.  he said he was going to be here around 8 or after.  yeah, a late start but he’s the guy doing the work.  of course, he was the lowest bid.  sometimes that’s not a good thing.  however, in this case i think i’ll be ok. 

he’s actually the only one that gave me a written bid.  with photos of some old work and references.  a couple of guys called and gave me their way over priced deal over the phone.  i’m also still waiting for a couple of other ones to come in.  what the hell are they waiting for?  doesn’t matter the deal is going down.

it’s supposed to take this guy 3 or 4 days to finish the work.  fine.  i had one of the guys tell me one day to do the job.  i was flabbergasted.

i said, say what?

just one day to do the work.

oh.  so you have an army of guys working for you?

no.  well, maybe two days.

interesting.  most everyone else is in the 3 to 4 day range considering the old root problem on the north side. 

no.  maybe a day and a half or two.

he was actually one of the guys who phoned it in.  he came in second.  but he was weird.  part of any business undertaking is glad handing when you meet and when you leave.  even if it’s just a limp dead stinky fish handshake.  it’s protocol or some damn thing or another.  not with that guy.  no handshake at all.  coming or going.  odd. 

thankfully the guy i hired was just driving by and noticed the outside condition of my place.  he had been in the park trying to scare up some work.  he was glad he stopped.  so am i.  at least so far.

my guy finally showed up with his helper.  just one guy.  he says he should be out of here in 3 days.  we shall see.  i wish him luck.  at least the morning has been pretty nice.  more like the gloom of june weather we get the first part of june rather than the end of july.

i’ll let you know how things go.

music provided this morning, ella fitzgerald, ‘the best of the song books’.

jmh

ella fitzgerald

this is what i stuck up on another place today.  i’m not changing my avatar here.  to much trouble and well, i’m just groovin’ to ella.  no time for avatar changing stuff.  sure, you can dig that. 

yeah,  i added her as my avatar today.  i had been meaning to do it for weeks now.  just never got around to it.  my bad.  just how long it stays up there is anyones guess.  

there is no better female or lady singer anywhere.  sarah vaughn?  janis joplin?  patsy cline?  emmylou harris?  sure all of them and a few more.  madonna?  lol.  yeah.  ok.  there’s a limit to that question that at some point reaches the end of musical understanding.

folks.  there simply isn’t anybody anywhere who sang like the dead black lady i’m in love with, sweet, ella.  ah, huh.  count on it.  i should probably listen to more of her stuff just to help grind down the edges of bleeding life.  sure vino helps but sweet dear ella grinds down those  rough edges like some sort of grinder made with the finest of stick it on your loves finger diamonds. 

then of course there’s the musical back up.  some, if not the finest musicians ever backing up the lady of song.  dudes and dudettes, shit doesn’t get much better.  count on it.  kick ass music and a songstress who belts it out like no one every has and for sure no one ever will again.  yep.  lay your money down.  i’ll take it and laugh all the way to the musical bank.  fuck yeah. 

heaven opens a magic lane…there’s a rainbow highway to be found.

oh, didn’t mention lyrics?  guess not.  same deal.  the best.  long dead standards thrown under the bus of rap and crap.  punk.  metal.  etal.  sure sue me.  i ain’t talking about that stuff.  i’m talkin’, ella fitzgerald and if you don’t know her you had better give her a listen.  soon. 

veered there for a bit.  lyrics?  george and ira.  rodgers and hart.  harold arlin.  duke.  kern and hammerstein.  kahn and donaldson.  burke and van heusen.  parish and carmichael.  cole porter.  sammy cahn.  et the fuck all.  yeah, no glimmer twins or the fab two plus others but there’s some history out there.  ella belts it out better than most.  dig in and enjoy.  you will be glad you did.

music provided by, ella, of course, ‘the very best of the harold arlen song book’. 

jmh

the family nelson

i’ve been yammering about this aspect of the alaska cruise since i’ve been back from said cruise.  i’ve been waiting for a photo from ex g/f concerning the yammering.  yeah, well, it’s here finally.

probably the best entertainment part of the cruise or even best part of the whole bleeding cruise was a concert we got to see the second night of the cruise.  the nelson twins concert tribute to their dad, ricky nelson.  yeah, gunnar and matthew nelson.  the dudes can play.  stellar stuff.  damn straight.

then of course there’s their dad, ricky.  ok.  the first music video guy.  ever.  thanks to ozzie, his dad.  a bleeding genius.  way before his time.

then there was ricky.  at some point or another he eclipsed the king, elvis.  yeah, sir paul mac, the beatle, even says this on film during the tribute.  damn straight.  say what you want, ricky nelson was rock ‘n’ roll’s god at one point or another.  probably several points.  if you can’t understand this then well, i feel sorry for you. 

ok.  he wasn’t robert johnson, muddy waters, albert king, or buddy guy.  but he was at one point more popular than elvis, the king.  at any rate, during the show lots of nice film of ricky and his ground breaking videos from the old ozzie and harriet show. 

ricky was good but his band was better.  yeah, well.  ozzie knew stuff.  a number one hit maker in his own right.  ricky as well.  gunnar and matthew too.  three generations of number one songs from the same damn family.  a guinness record. 

ok. the show.  the kids played dad’s music to a tee.  wonderful stuff. interspersed with video clips of dad, sir paul the beatle and john fogerty, etal, telling everyone what a talent ricky was.  well, he was.  then the kids dealt it out.  fine stuff of their own backed by cruise ship musicians.  the sax player in particular, a gentleman from the ukraine, was inspired and reminded me of bobby keyes.  

gunnar and matthew are fine musicians.  best live music i’ve seen in a long time.  ex g/f and i were lucky enough to get to the venue way early and we sat up in the back of the place and got to watch the sound check.  mostly gunnar kicking out some fine guitar jams.  lovely stuff.  after which we moved down front.

point?  gunnar and matthew nelson are a product of two generations of number one hit makers.  themselves making it a third.  stellar shit.  on all fronts.  their current single is a tribute to pop and the stone canyon band.  rickey’s last band.  country western gone cosmic, thanks bubba.  and thanks, gram. 

pure american music.  nothing is better.  the nelson kids seem to understand this.  as well they should.  they come from musical royalty.  yep.  the kids can kick out the jams.  trust me.  i was blown away by the whole thing.  pure and simple.  bloody amazing music.

after the show the boys were out in the back of the hall dealing out glad hands, cds, and autographs.  i went their way.  i had to.  ex g/f went the less traveled route.  fine. 

the line was long and slow.  terminally slow.  i was beginning to sober up.  just an endless line.  i finally got close and yelled, ‘gentlemen.   your dad, gram parsons, and you.’  i only speak the truth.  ok, mostly.

matthew was taken aback.  recovered nicely and said, ‘wow. what a nice thing to say.  thank you.  i wish we could have played with james burton’.  sweet.  the boys rock regardless.  i threw them a thumbs up and like exited stage right.  still to far back and coming down hard off the vodka/vino high.  still high on the music. 

next day.  juneau, alaska.  in port.  ex and i get off the ship to wander around before our scheduled shore excursion.  we did a few photos and some shopping then sat on a bench.  matthew and family passed by. 

dude.

hey, how’s it going?

oh,shit.  i need me a photo. 

getting up and telling ex, photo, please.

excuse me. can i get a photo?  ah, i was the guy that yelled at you guys after the show last night.

sure.  yeah, i know.  smiling.

ok. so here’s like the photo.  me, a deer in the headlights and matthew looking good and may i say gram parsons would have been very proud of what matthew was wearing.  rock ‘n’ country roll.

john hauge and matthew nelson.  juneau, alaska. july 2008.

my deer in the headlights photo ain’t the first.  i have another with myself and rick bayliss, the famouos pbs chef, at his fine restaurant in chicago.  what can i say?  awe struck in the presence of artistic genius is what it is i guess.  cooking or playing music.

the nelsons, gunnar and matthew, have come to accept their dad’s musical history.  good for them..  ricky and the stone canyon band.  gram parsons.  gunnar and matthew.  gentleman, a musical legacy to be built upon.  just do it.  damn, i hope you do.  please.  i need me some more cosmic country.

the nelson kids are playing the tribute concert around the country this summer.  if you get a chance you should go see it.  the kicker is you might even be lucky enough to see them play with dad’s last band, the stone canyon band of old.  music doesn’t get much better.

jmh

desert island tv shows

i guess that’s what this one is going to be about.  there’s other stuff crashing through my frazzled brain that needs to come out at some point.  mainly stuff about alaska but ex g/f hasn’t sent me the photos i need in order to do the deals.  i requested one photo in particular concerning that concert i said we saw so maybe…  

i’ve also been dealing with landscape contractors coming over to give me estimates and bids on doing the work that needs to be done on the outside of my new digs.  interesting stuff and i’ll get to that at some point as well.

so before i completely go off on some weird tangent or another i suppose i need to get back to the title of this mornings epistle.  desert island tv shows.

i’ve been down this road before music in several blogs music, movies, and books.  why not tv shows?  they are for the most part all out there on dvds these days so i may as well. 

at my advanced time on the planet i’ve seen a few more tv shows than a great number of you folks.  well, unless you are around my age.  i’ve been watching tv longer than a large number of you have even been around to watch tv.  we got our first tv, a packard bell black and white number, in 1950.  i was 2 years old.  yeah, i’ve seen me some tv that’s for sure.

the problem being i’ve seen so much tv it’s really really hard to pare the list down to even 20 tv shows i’d drag out to the island along with all the other stuff, books, movies, and music.  plus the surfboard, swim fin, and several hot asian ladies.  plus the vino and chinese beer.  oh, yeah, and a case or two of abslout vodka.  i’m still trying to score some sort of gig with them.  is anybody listening?

i don’t watch as much tv as i used to.  so the list is pretty much top heavy with stuff maybe you haven’t even heard of.  though i’m sure it will or they will ring bells for the older ones in the peanut gallery. 

i’ve got 30 on the list.  to put them in any sort of numerical order descending from number 1 to the last one would probably take me hours or days to muddle through and the only thing to come out of that toil and trouble would probably be another 30 or so old tv shows.  get the picture?  perhaps.

so here they are in no particular order other than the way they jumped into my head and i wrote em down.

the adventures of ozzie and harriet- one of my faves.  it’s top 10 for sure but there must be 20 in the top 10 as it is.  ozzie nelson was probably a genius.  plus very funny.  then there’s ricky.  more to come on this but later.

the lone ranger- great western show.  i used to work with a guy who was clayton moore’s stunt double for the feature length movie of the same name.

adventures of wild bill hickock- childhood memories of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich here. 

maverick- they jumped around with the maverick bros and cousin in this one.  i’m talking the james garner mavericks.

77 sunset strip- a friday night mainstay for a number of years.  along with the friday night fights brought to you by gillette. who could ever forget heavyweight fighter, scrap iron johnson?  this is a twofer.  lucky you.

have gun will travel- great show.  understated dark and brooding.  

wanted: dead or alive- steve mcqueen.  nuff said.

the jackie gleason show- another comic genius and a great show. 

the red skelton show- either one.  the half hour show or the hour show.  wonderful stuff.

combat- vic morrow. the marlon brando of tv land. 

the rockford files- james garner again. edgy pi show in 70’s l.a.  for the most part very good stuff.

bob newhart- any of his numerous shows.  another comic genius.

steve allen’s westinghouse show- late night every night but i could only manage to watch it on friday night.  brilliant stuff plus the jazz greats of long ago.  it didn’t get much better.

the a team-  yes, what can i say other than george peppard was a very good actor.  anybody remember ‘breakfast at tiffany’s’?  another nuff said.

miami vice- pastels and no socks. plus an edge.

the sopranos- maybe the best show ever.

monk- good stuff though he’s sorta wearing thin these days.  first four years were stellar.

the deadliest catch- if you haven’t watched this one you really should.  a white knuckle ride for sure.

magnum, pi- this one is top 5 all-time.

columbo- peter falk.

laugh-in – probably a bit dated these days due to the topical humor but good stuff.

the smothers bros- funny stuff plus hot rock ‘n’ roll acts.

the avengers- the first one with patrick macnee and diana rigg.

the prisoner- perhaps the strangest show ever to hit the tv airwaves.  top 10 for sure.

the man from u.n.c.l.e.- great cold war angst.

i, spy- more cold war angst.  plus culp and cosby.  i got a ‘d’ in a chemistry class while going to college.  i had the class on monday night.  all i wanted was for the damn class to be over so i could scream down the hill and catch whatever i could of the show.

navy log- if only for the lovely hymn sung at the beginning and end of the show.

victory at sea- ww2 brought to your living room in living black and white.

seinfeld- of course.

that’s it kids.  you all have your faves and these are just some of mine.  feel free to comment and add your own.  i know it’s only old tv but i like it, like it. yes, i do.

jmh

it was mary and she had typhoid

it couldn’t have been mary mallon aka typhoid mary.  ms mallon has been dead and gone for many a year.  if you don’t know who mary mallon was you really should take the time to google her story.  interesting stuff and scary as well.  but she isn’t the reason i’m here or for writing this.  however, the blog is in a similar vein.

ex g/f and i were at the airport in vancouver, bc, waiting for our flight back to lax and the official end of our alaska excursion.  we had tiredly plopped down into those uncomfortable airport waiting area seats.  from behind us we heard this woman cough.  a nasty dry hacking cough.  both of us can and do give adrian monk a run for his money.  we both alerted like a deer catching the scent of humans during hunting season. 

shit.  she’s sick.

i know.  we need to move.

yeah, over there.

so we moved about as far away as we could get and still keep an eye on the gate and be ready to leap into action when the time occurred.  we had left typhoid mary behind.  for the moment.

several hours later we boarded the plane.  earlier than we were supposed to due to this guy catching sight of us and waving his hand at us to come on down.  we were on board right after the first class folks.  sweet.

all was sweetness and light for maybe ten minutes.  then horror of horrors typhoid mary is seated right behind us.  still dry hacking away and looking like warmed over shit.

jesus christ.  we’re fucked.

we need to move.

we can’t right now.  we have to wait and see if there are any empty seats.  maybe we’ll get lucky like on the flight to anchorage.

so there we sat.  ex g/f with neck craned looking for a couple of empty seats together and occasionally shooting mary a nasty look.  there weren’t two empty seats together.  there were a few empty seats but i reasoned if we moved to any of them we would get stuck on the plane forever at lax while we had to fight our way back to where our carry ons were.  ex g/f grudgingly agreed. 

mary hacked away the whole flight.  she actually had the row to herself and stretched out more or less.  then fitfully slept on the ride to lax.  of course, coughing most of the time.

ok.  so here’s the point of this unless i veer off into something else.  bleeding airlines.  they refuse to put air purification systems on the planes.  we breathe the same foul air over and over again on all flights.  the longer the flight the longer you are inhaling whatever the hell is in the air.  a nasty thought.

yes, of course airlines are cheap and get cheaper every day.  oh, the fuel costs are killing us.  so, no more stale pretzels and you have to pay $100 more for any luggage weighing more than a sparrow.  your carry on?  we are tossing it out over the pacific. 

so why don’t they make sick fuckers like typhoid mary wear a damn surgical mask like the chinese and japanese do in the winter time?  it’s a simple and cheap thing. 

oh, my poor dear, you look dreadful.  are you ill?

why, yes, i am.  thanks for your concern.

tsk tsk tsk.  how awful for you to be traveling while you are sick. 

yes.  yes, it is.

well, we here at cheap ass airline feel your pain.  however, with all due respect, we need you to put this surgical mask on and keep it on for the duration of your flight.  ok?  if you choose not to wear it we will toss your sorry ass out with the carry ons over the pacific.  capice?

ah, lovely, a simple solution to the sick that infect airline cabins all over this land and over other lands as well.  so why won’t they do something about it?  you got me.  oh, yeah, that airline blanket typhoid mary used to cover herself with?  the airlines don’t clean and or replace them very often if at all.  they just fold em back up and stick them back in the overhead storage bins where your carry ons used to be.

jmh

a knife in the water(?)

the first thing i suppose i should do is apologize to roman polanski for sorta using the title of his first film.  this has nothing to do with that movie though it’s been a number of years since i’ve seen it and, well, you never know there might be something to it.

i’ve been packing a pocketknife since i was a kid.  a fairly young kid i guess.  at the time it was a boy scout knife.  a handy little thing if there ever was one.  i’m pretty sure my folks got me the knife after a neighbor girl around where an aunt and uncle lived disappeared and was never seen again.  yeah, stuff like that happened even in the early 50’s.  nothing like these end of times goings on but still there to rear it’s sad ugly head. 

about the same time i was given a nice or sorta nice hunting type knife to be kept in or on the headboard of my bed.  i was told, by my father, not to be afraid to use it if necessary.  fine.  whatever you say, pop.  i believe i was told the same thing about the boy scout knife.  be prepared was and still is their motto.  i was never a boy scout but i was prepared. 

my mom and i walked a lot of places when i was a kid.  she never learned how to drive.  one of those strange oddities of the 20th century to be sure.  i was also told by my dad should anyone try and mess with mom while we were out walking about to use said boy scout knife on them.  yeah, just another crazed world war 2 vet dealing out the does and don’ts of old time urban life.  or maybe just to many episodes of the old jack webb  b/w tv show ‘dragnet’ as well. 

any the damn ways, i’ve always packed some sort of folding iron in my pocket since those long ago days.  regular readers of this insanity will recall the ass hole mexican customs agent in puerto vallarta lusting after my swiss army knife.   the swiss army knife became my pocket knife of choice years ago.  mainly because it has a nice corkscrew on it, among other things.  the corkscrew being the main selling point.  a good italian boy should never be caught without a corkscrew.  trust me.

we were in our last port of call on our alaska cruise.  ketchikan to be precise.  to veer, i always put the knife in the checked bag whenever i go somewhere these post 911 days.  the first thing i do is drag it out once we hit the room or where ever.  i don’t feel right without it in my pocket.  yes, even if i’m all cleaned up and looking sharp in a suit and tie.  the knife is where it belongs. 

ok.  to further muddy the waters and veer around some more but it sets the stage here.  i had been off the ship every day we were in a port.  a few times off and on twice in one day.  in order to get back on the ship you must have your bags x-rayed and your pockets emptied of all metal stuff and put into a tray.  not unlike an airport screening.  fine.  any the ways, the knife had been in that bloody tray every time i got back on board the ship.  no one had said shit about it. 

well, that is until ketchikan.  i was boarding the ship for the last time.  i stuck all my crap in the tray.  knife included.  i had a bunch of other stuff as well.  ex g/f had done some shopping before she went on a sea plane excursion.  i’d passed on that.  plane to small with still very vivid memories of small plane rides in nam.  no thanks. 

i was waiting for the shopping bags to come out of the machine and this security hump from the ship has the knife out and is looking at it.  it’s deja vu all over again.  an indo or paki guy this time.  stupid as well because he couldn’t manage to get the main blade out to really check the knife out.

sir, you can not have this knife on board the ship.

excuse, me?

yes, sir.  you can not have this knife on the ship.  i must confiscate it and give you a receipt for it and you can get it back when you leave.

wait just a minute.  i’ve been off and on the ship in every port.  some days twice.  and now you are telling me i can’t have the knife?  what sort of weird crap is this?  if anyone had told me this the first time i was getting back on this ship perhaps i wouldn’t care.  however, the horse is out of the barn here and you can kiss my ass.

i was also thinking that was just what the fuck i needed.  some other goddamn hoop to jump through the last day on the ship.  the last cruise day is hectic enough without further hoop jumping.

sir, you can have the knife back when you leave.

the line was beginning to back up.  other security folks were looking at mr. apu like he was insane.  although no one said anything.  perhaps he out ranked them.  i dunno.

no, no.  i’m not going begging or groveling to get my knife back on the last day of this cruise.  just get the rest of my stuff out of the damn machine and i’ll go away. 

but sir, you will be able to get your knife back when you leave.

i don’t want it anymore.  you can keep the damn thing.  you are an ass hole and you can go to hell as well.

i left in a huff.  sickened and saddened by the whole sordid affair.  you might be thinking i was a bit rash in my actions.  i don’t think so.  i suppose i could have complained but i doubt it would have done any good. i did however mention it to my bartender that evening and like all good bartenders he was most sympathetic.  tsk tsking as he made one of those world’s best absolut martinis.  my fellow shipmates at the bar were incredulous.  he mentioned something about speaking to the captain. 

perhaps he did i don’t know.  i never saw the knife again and no one came looking for me to explain or apologize or to tell me that i was the ass hole and not mr. apu.  fine.  what the fuck ever.  i haven’t felt this bad about losing a knife since i lost a very nice folding knife years ago while swimming in the sacramento river.  i didn’t realize that i had a small hole in my pocket and it just somehow floated away through that tiny hole.  it was a very old knife.  it had been my grandfathers.

a swiss army knife.

jmh

the voyage of eric the red or a mountain of dirty laundry

i’m not sure if i want to run the whole deal down like i did in the mexican riviera voyage blog.  time tells.  i didn’t take any photos but the ex g/f did so when i get them in an email i’ll trot them out and see what happens.  as for now i’ll just ramble.  nothing new there.

i enjoyed alaska if only for some cool summertime weather.  there is something to be said about having to wear a jacket or sweatshirt during the summer.  plus the scenery was pretty spectacular. 

as for the cruise line, royal carribean, yes, i’m naming names this time, i won’t be back.  nice friendly staff and one bartender who made the perfect vodka martini doesn’t make for a worthwhile money spent deal. the food was only so so and the ship is noisy at night with paper thin walls.  and live music careening around the hallways till after midnight.

speaking of the live music, it wasn’t as good as i’ve heard on past cruises.  ok stuff but just not quite the dead bang on professionalism of other trips.  what can i say?  though there was one show that sang and was one of the most amazing concerts i’ve ever seen.  more later. 

at any rate i’m back and the deal is done and over with.  7 days with the ex g/f was way more than enough.  it just reinforced why i left in the first place.  though i must say she was actually very nice for the most part.  notice i said for the most part.  that deal is over and done with as well.

i’m still tired and strung out.  the ordeal of getting up to alaska was what it was, an ordeal.  getting home was another one.  though not quite as bad.   or maybe it was just the fact of doing another 7 day cruise within two months time.  i don’t know but i doubt i’ll be going anywhere anytime soon unless it’s some sort of deal or offer i can’t refuse.

i know this is pretty lame but what can i say?  plus my typing skills have eroded badly over the past week without them being used on a daily basis.  and i’m getting tired of fixing my screw ups.  then there’s that mountain of dirty laundry that needs to be dealt with.  at any rate, it’s nice to be home.

jmh