Rough Riders

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort whithout error and shortcoming; but who does actuallly strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

- Teddy Roosevelt, San Juan Hill

FREEDOM OF SPEECH UNDER FIRE

The way things are going on this continent, I need to get in as much FREE SPEECH as I can.  There’s no question the FCC will be looking to regulate the internet soon, and finally every bit of information placed on it.  Please don’t be offended by the comments that follow.  Harsh language is used as subject matter only, and if you think you might be offended then please go NO further because this section is called FREE SPEECH and it resides on my own private piece of electronic real estate.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is being revised.  The word “n*gger” is being removed and replaced with “slave”.  That both upsets me to my core, and confuses me.  It doesn’t upset me because I am a racist.  I am not.  It upsets me because I am an American and there still exists an Amendment in the U.S. Constitution that says you can pretty much say what you want.  UNLESS, of course, someone takes exception to something written by one of our nations most iconic authors who has made a spectacular and lasting contribution to American literature. 

Twain used the derogatory term for a black man when he wrote the book published in 1885.  They’re actually going to pull a BACK TO THE FUTURE on old Huck’ and change the “n-word” to “slave” even though slavery was abolished 19 years before the book came out.  The 13^th Amendment to the Constitution tidied that up in 1864.  You see, this Constitution is supposed to be our playbook.  But our playbook is being changed by the politically correct and I’ve had enough.

I read “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” in high school and it was meant to be a descriptive time-piece in American Literature.  Mark Twain was sharing his view of the social climate of our country and actually putting prejudice on exhibit, so you could see what it looked like from the outside.  If we’re going to alter his work of art, for aesthetic and politically correct purposes, then maybe we should also go back and make the Mona Lisa hotter?!  Maybe we should pierce her nose and put a tattoo on her ass?

We can certainly remove the offensive word from future copies, so some teachers will be more comfortable teaching it, but why?  The “n-word” has become the salutation of choice AMONG young blacks, especially in the NYC area.  You can’t tell me I’m wrong, I hear it on the train platform every day amongst students commuting to and from high school or college.  But go ahead, change the book, change history, and guard the soft malleable masses from the reality of our nations past.  I will continue to listen to stories told by adolescent blacks and enjoy the incredulous chorus-like response of the story tellers surrounding friends – “damn n’gga!!!” 

Following suit with that sort of profanity and hearing the word “asshole” on CBS during prime-time television is insulting to me and my 3 children under 8 too.  Fortunately modern programming gives me an entire host of other (sports) channels I can turn to, NEVER to return to one of the major thieving networks again.  Brain ON, prime-time profanity OFF.  It’s a very simple concept.

I’m afraid you won’t be able to draw illustrations as you were in the past either.  Two illustrations (below) include rebel flags were ordered to be REMOVED from the Elmont Fire Department in Long Island.  Those cartoon-like pictures were found offensive by one firefighter and a handful of people in the community that Engine Company 3 protects with their flesh, blood, and courage. 

My points are twofold here.  First, they are only illustrations.  They are an artist’s interpretation of Engine Company 3’s nickname.  It gives them a persona.  When they go to fight fires, I would imagine their adrenaline begins to go haywire and they can get behind the rebel image and get into character.  I know firefighters.  I know how they think and behave.

The skeleton firefighter (below) wearing a rebel bandana is painted on the side of the truck; the firefighter on the right is wearing rebel flag shorts and can be found on a small painting on the firehouse wall.  Wake up call.  It is 2011; the books on slavery, even on segregation are FIRMLY closed. What’s the big deal?

Secondly, if the Elmont Fire Department, long known as the “Runnin’ Rebels” were such a bad bunch of guys, then why did they volunteer for a public service that puts them in danger in order save lives by design?  If my house were burning, God forbid with someone trapped inside, I would much rather a runnin’ rebel with fire in his eyes, a fire hose over his shoulder, and a confederate bandana around his neck show up than a civil rights leader in a pressed suit with a bucket of salt.  Different situations call for different measures.

You better be careful if you are a songwriter and trying to creatively capture a moment in history.  The Dire Straits tune “Money For Nothing” was banned in the country of Canada.  Know why?  Because ONE GUY called up the Lord of Canadian Airwaves and said he was upset by guess which verse? 

See the little faggot with the earring and the makeup
Yeah buddy that's his own hair
That little faggot got his own jet airplane
That little faggot he's a millionaire

I don’t use the word anymore either because it is derogatory to the gay community.  I certainly wouldn’t sing those lyrics in front of friends who are gay.  I have no objection to it being in a song though…BECAUSE IT’S A SELF DEPRECATING SONG!!  If you read that dreadfully offensive verse in context, you will learn that Dire Straits thinks those benefitting from fanfare is the utter JOKE.  Confused that they’ve achieved fame and wealth playing guitar and drums while others slaves away at more productive and actually useful blue collar jobs.  While they’re at it, they happen to be using that generation’s terminology, which didn’t always have a sexual connotation.  It just meant weak and that’s all Dire Straits is saying.

 

Well, Elton John is out of the closet, there are gay characters all over main stream entertainment, and they’re ALL welcomed with open arms by sensible North Americans so I don’t see why they need to ban a Dire Straits song for any other reason than it is one song by a great band that happens to suck.

 

 

I think everyone needs to take a page out of Ricky Gervais book.  He caught holy hell for being funny, original, and telling it like it is at the Golden Globe Awards.  Luckily he’s a MASTER of the IF/THEN statement and everyone on this continent should respect how expression of ideas and FREE SPEECH actually work.

“IF you are offended, THEN I don’t care.”
- Ricky Gervais

My Gibson Les Paul

Quoteboard: Tom Ford

"Just because I've become spiritual doesn't mean I can't love crocodile."

Phish Bowl

When a time tested band like PHISH makes a holiday run through the worlds most popular arena on New Year’s weekend, it would be a sinful event to miss.  That’s why my wing man and I made our way to row S on the floor 20 minutes before the show started to make sure we were in the thick of it from the very start.  Well, we were in the thick of it all right, and we came out with a few unsuspecting treats.

Now, the treats at a Phish show come in all different forms.  From the hysterical pre-curtain convo I had with some loon in a tie-dyed T-shirt and 2011 glasses carrying his “meat stick” from the New Year’s Eve show the night before, to the foursome from Vermont’s cover of Walk Away by the James Gang in the middle of the first set that almost blew the roof off the Garden.  The entire night that makes up a Phish show is part musical improv and part magical mystery tour.

To walk into one of their concerts is to jump into a giant Phish Bowl.  These four musicians have got their gig down to a complex science.  Their original songs and the covers they choose take you on an exploratory journey through power chord rock, jazz fusion, bluegrass, funky grooves, country sing-along, and some hippie dippy geeky nonsense that in my opinion doesn’t translate well to the studio albums that Phish puts them on.  Well, my opinion doesn’t matter in the phish bowl, and their loyal fans devour every bizarre note, lyric, and crowd participation moment the band has to offer.  When you mix this cultural concoction and play it through light man Chris Kuroda’s kaleidoscope, the result is an amazing 3-hours of sensory overload. 

They opened the new year with My Soul featuring one of the most basic blues riffs known to the guitar, and the show got a lot more complex and heated from there.  I couldn’t possibly identify their one-word title songs from my place in their fan base, but I was pretty alone there.  As soon as the first note of a new song was released every tweaked fan in the Garden raced to call it – “TUBE dude!” followed My Soul, giant smoke plumes followed, and off we all went on our journey. 

Phish got the entire Garden crowd to bounce for the reggae-like intro to Guelah Papyrus, they played fan favorite Divided Sky, and then hit hyperspace with their blinding version of Walk Away.  I’ve only seen a few bands raise the roof of the Garden to a level like that and I couldn’t help paying them the ultimate concert accolade, aloud to myself as I looked around M.S.G. – “fuckin’ awesome.” 

They touched my oddball favorite Phish album “Farmhouse” with Gotta Jibboo, then again in the second set with a slow and trippy version of Twist.  (I still think that was their best studio album life to date, but I haven’t given them all an equal listen.)

The first set ended with a great chance for Page McConnell to stand out from his post at stage left behind the piano as he pounded away the dramatic chords of Walls of the Cave.  He and guitarist Trey Anastasio are truly impressive showmen and great musicians.  Trey goes nimbly back and forth between blues scales and classical arpeggios and it is next to impossible to figure out where his fingers leave off and his custom Languedoc guitar begins.  One thing is certain.  He is the conductor of the 5-man orchestra known as Phish (remember their fifth man, Chris Kuroda.)

I don’t have as much good to say about bassist Mike Gordon since his incident with the daughter of a Hell’s Angels biker only 9 miles from my house, but let’s not get into that.  He’s a kooky looking bass player that anchors the band pretty solidly.  I really don’t have anything to say about drummer John Fishman.  The guy plays drums in a dress and they named the band after him.

Set two was equally amazing.  They covered Crosseyed and Painless by the Talking Heads and everyone followed the directions in the chorus "saaaaaaail away!”  Then Twist, Simple, the mellow crowd shaker Sneakin’ Sally thru the Alley, and back through Kingston Jamaica with the Makisupa Policeman reggae chant.  They ended set 2 with a driving version of David Bowie and walked off to darkness.

Nobody thought for a second they were done.  It had only been about two and a half hours of music, it was Saturday night, and we we’re in New York – Phish had to leave it all out on stage.  They came back on for Fee and then shocked the crowd for a finale.  Page McConnell grabbed a ferocious keyboard guitar, took center stage and they blasted out a psychedelic roof raising version of Edgar Winter Band’s Frankenstein.  Chris Kuroda took a final opportunity to let the crowd know that the light guy is part of the band because this encore was among the most memorable in my 25-year history of concert attendance. 

I came into the Phish Bowl very relaxed with no expectations.  Like I said, they aren’t my favorite band and they're still not.  However, I walked out wishing there were three more sets and saying to myself – “I’ll come back if they do.”  In fact…I grabbed one last treat on my way out the door.  Madison Square Garden sure is one funky Phish Bowl.

Bring it to New York BITCH !

Saluting "Brute" Krulak

“Being ready is not what matters.  What matters is winning after you get there.”

- Victor “Brute” Krulak

 

Victor Krulak lived from 1913 to 2008.  He saw action in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.  He was a highly decorated marine that hoped to become the next Commandant of the Marine Corps.  Unfortunately, in 1968 President Lyndon Johnson chose someone else, so Krulak retired on the spot.

Historians have said Krulak’s prior comments to President Johnson criticizing the restraints placed on American military operations in Viet Nam resulted in his being passed over for the post.  For expressing those opinions, I just saluted his picture.

p.s. – Victor Krulak’s son Charles Krulak became the 31^st Commandant of the Marine Corps serving that post from 1995 to 1999. 

That is one bad ass gene pool.