Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts

Thursday, August 27, 2015

On Being Denied the Pleasure of Their Company



Most of us — if we had our druthers, as the folks in the Li'l Abner comic strip liked to say — would prefer to die quickly and relatively painlessly when we were at the top of our respective games.

Not everyone is granted that wish, of course, just as it is true that not everyone lives to a ripe old age — but if one does live into old age, he/she is not likely to be as fit or as sharp as he/she was at a younger age. Such a person is hardly likely to go out on top of his or her game.

Most of us, I guess, would like to live long lives, but most people can't live long lives and be as vibrant as they were when they were young. Some can, I suppose, but not most of us. Everything in life, it seems, is a trade–off.

(In a way, I'm inclined to think that Spencer Tracy's character in "Inherit the Wind" was saying the same thing when he remarked, "Progress has never been a bargain. You have to pay for it. Sometimes I think there's a man who sits behind a counter and says, 'All right, you can have a telephone, but you lose privacy and the charm of distance. Madam, you may vote but at a price. You lose the right to retreat behind the powder puff or your petticoat. Mister, you may conquer the air, but the birds will lose their wonder, and the clouds will smell of gasoline.'"

(Perhaps, when the subject is quality of life, it depends on what one considers progress — longevity or never having to contend with diminished abilities.)

My mother was denied the old age that my father has had. Mom was a schoolteacher who died in a flash flood 20 years ago. She and my father owned a duplex in Dallas and rented half of it as an additional source of income. The house had been in the family for decades. It originally belonged to my mother's parents, and she grew up there.

A week or so after my mother died, my brother and I crossed paths with the tenant, who remarked that Mom went out at the top of her game, and I couldn't argue with that.

A few hours before Mom died, she was at a carnival at her school. I've seen pictures that were taken that day. Perhaps there are home videos that were made as well in which I might be able to hear Mom chatting with her students or her students' parents. I can't get that from photographs, of course, but the look on Mom's face tells me she was in her element that day — and, for that matter, all the years she taught at that school. The tenant was right. Mom went out at the top of her game.

While I wish she had been with us longer, it is hard for me to imagine Mom in retirement. I know there were times when the job wore her out, but her work with children always seemed to energize her. I wonder where she would have found a source for that energy in retirement. My guess is that, if she couldn't be paid to mentor children, she would have found some way to do it for free — perhaps in a voluntary part–time capacity at a school or library.

There is a conundrum at play in every human life. See, I am grateful to have that mental image of my mother and not the one that my mother had of her mother in the final years of her life — but I still wish I had not been denied the pleasure of her company all these years.

Today would have been her birthday. It is also the 25th anniversary of the helicopter crash that claimed the life of another — and much more prominent — native of Dallas, Stevie Ray Vaughan. He was considerably younger than Mom, but it could also be said of him that he went out at the top of his game.

And I often wish we had not been denied the pleasure of his company.

Stevie Ray Vaughan struggled with substance abuse issues in the 1980s, but he had straightened up and was clearly on an upward trajectory when his helicopter crashed in southeast Wisconsin 25 years ago today. Each album was better than the one that preceded it, and his last album, "In Step," seemed to be the one that would earn him the acceptance of the mainstream audience.

His debut album with his band Double Trouble was called "Texas Flood," which was the name of one of the songs they played on the album — but it wasn't a Stevie Ray original. Matter of fact, it was a blues standard that had been covered by many artists over the years, but it came to be associated with Stevie Ray. Maybe he played it better than anyone else ever did. I don't know if that is true, but I do know that he played the hell out of that song.

I was in graduate school at the University of North Texas — about 35 or 40 miles north of Dallas — when Stevie Ray was killed, and I remember watching the news reports on the Dallas TV stations the night following Stevie Ray's funeral. The list of attendees read like a who's who of popular music — Eric Clapton, David Bowie, ZZ Top, Stevie Wonder, Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne. Those are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. I'm sure there are many I have forgotten.

After Stevie Ray's death, the city of Austin, Texas, erected a statue in his memory, showing him wearing his trademark poncho and holding his guitar at his side standing by the river. Some folks didn't like it. I liked it well enough, I suppose, but I think I would have preferred for him to be holding his guitar in his classic pose on stage. To me, the guitar looked a little too much like a gun at his side — until you got close enough to examine it.

I thought it was ironic, in this the 25th anniversary of his death, that we got so much rain this past spring, and the river flooded the area around the statue. At the water's peak, Stevie Ray appeared to be standing on water.

Talk about your Texas flood.

Yes, Stevie Ray Vaughan went out at the top of his game, but you can still feel the loss for the rest of us. He was 35 when he died. He would be 60 if he had been permitted to live. At the time of his death, he had been putting out several records/CDs that soared on the charts; one can only imagine what the future held for him. Hey, 60 is a whippersnapper compared to Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney, all still out there playing to packed houses in their 70s.

What else might Stevie Ray have done in the last quarter of a century? I don't know, but I'm sure he would have been an influence on popular music. "In Step" would have been his breakthrough album, I'm sure of it, and I'm equally sure it would not have been his last. The entire musical landscape might be different today if he had not died.

"After he cleaned himself up, by 1990, he was back to playing guitar in a ferocious way," Jason Hanley, senior director of education for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, told the Milwaukee (Wis.) Journal Sentinel. "Who knows what he would have done next?"

One thing I do know — if you like blues rock, then you owe Stevie Ray Vaughan a special debt of gratitude. Every day, really, but today in particular.

Monday, January 26, 2015

'Bridge Over Troubled Water' Was a Memorable Swan Song



As I have written here before, my mother was a huge fan of Simon and Garfunkel.

She didn't have copies of all their albums, but she had some — and she had 45 rpm singles of her favorite songs, whether she had the albums or not.

One of my most vivid memories of my childhood is of my mother putting Simon and Garfunkel on the stereo and playing it loud enough so she could hear it, no matter which room she was in. There weren't many activities that could prevent her from hearing the music — mostly it was the vacuum cleaner, I think, that obstructed her.

She didn't own the album that made its debut on this day in 1970, "Bridge Over Troubled Water," but she did have a single of the title song, and she played that single until it was scratched and just plain worn out.

It was probably the most popular song on the album. It was Simon and Garfunkel's biggest seller, and it is probably regarded as their signature song. When my parents, my brother and I saw them during their reunion tour a couple of years after their concert in Central Park, my memory is that "Bridge Over Troubled Water" received the loudest round of applause — and we saw them in the Cotton Bowl, probably the largest venue in Dallas at the time.

It is probably the song that most of their fans would like to hear, but, when I saw them in concert, I really wanted to hear them sing another song from the album, "The Boxer."

I did hear that one during the concert, and I also heard another song from the album that I really wanted to hear, "El Condor Pasa (If I Could)."

All three were released as singles and did pretty well. That was hardly surprising, really. Simon and Garfunkel singles always sold well. The tunes were always catchy, and the lyrics were always perfect.

There were other good songs on the album that didn't get as much attention. I would include "Keep the Customer Satisfied," a song for which I have more appreciation now than I did when I was younger.

I can't prove it, not even to myself, but I suspect that my admiration for good writing stems in part from my earlier experiences with Simon and Garfunkel's lyrics.

They influenced others, too. I have heard that Paul McCartney was motivated to write "Let It Be" out of a desire to match Simon and Garfunkel.

You could certainly do worse than have people say that you inspired one of the Beatles' biggest hits.

Unfortunately, "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (the album) was the last studio album ever released by Simon and Garfunkel. They split up shortly thereafter and never made another studio album together.

They did record together before the concert in Central Park. In 1972, they recorded the single "America," and, in the mid–'70s, they made a recording of a Paul Simon composition, "My Little Town," which appeared on solo albums for each performer.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Introducing the All-Starr Band


This was filmed in Los Angeles at the end of the 1989 tour, but Joe Walsh
also played "Rocky Mountain Way" when I saw the All–Starr Band in July.


Twenty–five years ago today, former Beatle Ringo Starr and his recently formed All–Starr Band opened their first–ever tour — 30 cities in six weeks.

That first show took place here in Dallas at an outdoor arena, and I was there. So were about 10,000 other people, including two friends with whom I rode from Denton, about 35 miles north of Dallas.

Apparently there was some anxiety backstage. I couldn't tell from the audience.

"I was real nervous before I went on," Ringo told the New York Times. "I kept thinking, What's it like? What do you do? All those madnesses go through your brain. But once you're out there, you see that people haven't come to see you get nervous. They've come to have a good time. And we're having a good time, too."

Accompanying Starr on that visit to Dallas were Joe Walsh, Levon Helm, Billy Preston, Nils Lofgren, Clarence Clemons, Jim Keltner and Dr. John. I heard that Bruce Springsteen was a guest at one stop during that tour. Paul Shaffer and John Candy were guests, too.

I don't recall any special guests when I saw the band, but that was OK with me. The band by itself was enough.

When I was younger, I hoped that, if I ever saw any of the Beatles in person, I would get to see John Lennon, but Ringo is the only Beatle I have ever seen to date.

I got to hear all the songs I wanted to hear him sing ("It Don't Come Easy," "Yellow Submarine," "Act Naturally," "With A Little Help From My Friends") — as well as the songs the others played.

The rest of the band members performed what were probably their best–known songs. It was like getting to see a string of mini–concerts.

Along with "Rocky Mountain Way," I heard Joe Walsh sing "Desperado" and "Life in the Fast Lane." Never got to see the Eagles in concert so that kind of filled that gap for me.

Levon Helm performed "The Weight" and "Up on Cripple Creek." Likewise, I never saw the Band in concert, either. Check off another one.

Billy Preston sang "Nothing From Nothing" (I've heard he sang "Will It Go Round in Circles" when the band played in Japan). Dr. John sang "Right Place, Wrong Time."

It was a great evening — the All–Starr Band under the stars.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

The Start of the Stones' Historic Tour



In recent years, it has come to be regarded as one of the most successful rock 'n' roll tours of all time.

But when Sheila (one of my college buddies) and I decided to attend one of the Rolling Stones' shows in the fall of 1981, we didn't know that, of course.

We knew that we were in school in Fayetteville, Ark., and the Stones would be performing in two shows — on Oct. 31 and Nov. 1 — in the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. Sheila's sister was living in the Dallas area at the time. Sheila said we could get her sister to get the tickets for us, and we could stay at her sister's house before and after the concert.

(In hindsight, the shows in Kansas City in mid–December would have been closer, but neither of us knew anyone in Kansas City and the timing would have been awkward, right around the time of final exams.)

Halloween was on a Saturday so we figured we could drive to Dallas on Friday, see the show on Saturday and drive back to Fayetteville on Sunday without missing any class.

Thus, everything was covered. And so the decision had been made.

Looking back on it all, I can only shake my head at the sheer naivete — not to mention the monumental leap of faith — it took for us to not only undertake such a whirlwind trip but to believe (hell, to practically take for granted) that it would all go smoothly.

And, for the most part, it did.

It was a great show. ZZ Top was the warmup band, and I had always wanted to see ZZ Top, anyway, but, in my eyes, getting to see ZZ Top and the Stones on the same occasion would have made the tickets cheap at twice the price — even though I was a struggling student at the time.

And I got a great T–shirt out of it — which I wore with as much pride as an Olympian wearing a medal or a veteran wearing a Purple Heart — at least until it fell apart after numerous trips through the laundry.

There were a few setbacks. It rained on Halloween. It was kind of a sporadic rain, kinda heavy at times, but it was particularly intense during the Stones' portion of the show. The speakers started to make what I always described as snap–crackle–and–pop sounds during the Stones' encore.

That made the show I saw unique — even special — but I'll get back to that.

That 1981 tour began on this day in Philadelphia. The news had reached my friends and me in Arkansas in the weeks before that day that there had been millions of advance requests for tickets. Perhaps it was an omen of things to come.

That tour smashed attendance records in many places, including Philadelphia's JFK Stadium, which was demolished nearly 20 years ago. A little more than a month into it, the New York Times wrote that the tour was "expected to be the most profitable in the history of rock 'n' roll."

Well, the tour drew approximately 3 million people to 50 shows in 29 cities, and I heard that the Stones' profits from the tour, which was designed to promote the just–released "Tattoo You," exceeded $20 million so I can only conclude that the Times was right about that — at least in 1981.

(I don't keep up with these things the way I once did, but, surely, at least one tour has matched or bettered it in three decades — and perhaps the answer is so obvious that I should know it, but I don't. Maybe U2, with its astonishingly popular tours, has broken many of the records the Stones set in 1981. Perhaps Paul McCartney did. Possibly someone whose name does not occur to me at the moment.

(But, in 1981, the Stones were the undisputed champs.)

After 30 years, I can't tell you every song that was played or the order in which they were played on the day I saw the Stones. It was Halloween, and many of the concert goers came dressed in costumes. Some were quite elaborate — I remember a Darth Vader and a Grim Reaper in my immediate vicinity — and they grabbed my attention at times.

Certain songs stand out in my memory, such as "Under My Thumb," "Honky Tonk Women," "Sympathy for the Devil," "Street Fighting Man" and the Stones' latest hit, "Start Me Up."

The next year, I bought the album that was made from tracks recorded during the tour, but it included several songs that I couldn't remember then from the show I saw, much less today — such as "Let's Spend the Night Together" and "Time Is On My Side."

There was one song on that album that I know wasn't played at the show I saw — "Satisfaction." I've heard that it was the grand finale of every other show on the tour, and, fittingly, it was the last track on the album.

But in Dallas on Halloween, it was raining so hard that the people in charge decided it was too dangerous to go on — and so the show was stopped before the Stones could play "Satisfaction."

That made the Halloween show unique on that tour.

There was no dramatic announcement. There was no apology for shortchanging the fans who had been standing in a rather cold Texas rain for hours. I don't remember the last song the Stones played that day, but I do remember that the Stones seemed a bit surprised to be told to wrap things up. Clearly, whatever song they had played was not intended to be the last one.

Besides, we hadn't heard "Satisfaction" yet.

That was still in the future on this day in 1981. The Stones' tour was under way — and, from what I heard at the time, it got off to a rousing start in Philly.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Into the Great Wide Open



I guess I am, by nature, what is known as a "morning person." At least, I was until I got to college.

I'll get back to that in a minute. First, permit me to reminisce a bit.

I grew up in central Arkansas, a state that is on the outskirts of the South geographically but (unlike Texas) is far more Southern than Western in its attitudes, climate, accents and other things.

Arkansas had its pluses and its minuses, I guess, and there were certain aspects of life there that I didn't like, but one of the things I did like about living in Arkansas was the fact that there was always a time in the early hours of the morning when the temperature was cool and the air was still.

Sometimes — for example, during an unseasonably hot stretch of weather in the summer — that time was brief. But if you happened to be awake at that time, it was an ideal time to think, to meditate, without fear of interruption.

In the fall and the spring, that time was considerably longer, and I used to enjoy waking up before anyone else in the household, opening the window in my bedroom and smelling the freshness in the early morning air.

Sometimes I went over the homework assignment I thought I had completed the night before — and, on more than one occasion, I discovered and corrected mistakes I had made. To this day, I believe that some of the grades I received when I was in junior high and high school were better than they would have been if I had opted to sleep an extra hour on some mornings.

Well, I am reminded of things like that this morning for a couple of reasons, one of which is that I awoke around 5 o'clock this morning.

The reason I did was simple. It's just been too darn hot here in Dallas the last three or four weeks.

Now, I know it gets hot in Dallas. I used to visit Dallas in the summers when I was a child. My grandparents lived here. Many of my parents' friends still lived here. And I know that, occasionally, the temperatures get into triple digits.

Most of the time the temperatures stay in the 90s. That's hot but not unpleasantly so. The heat index might get into triple digits, which makes it more uncomfortable, but the actual temperature usually doesn't. And, at night, it usually cools off enough that I can sleep.

But, lately, we've been getting into the 100s every day (with nighttime lows in the 80s). The air conditioning is running constantly — and the only thing that scares me more than the anticipation of my utility bill these days is my fear that my air conditioning will go out on me.

(It's happened to me before, about six years ago, in August. I struggled to sleep for four nights before the apartment management replaced my air conditioning unit. The memory of that time is incentive enough to hope and pray it never happens again.)

When I got up this morning, the temperature was 86°.

Today's going to be another scorcher, with a projected high of 105°. But, if the forecasts are correct, the temperatures will be going down gradually as the week progresses. Tomorrow, the forecast high in downtown Dallas is 99°. Currently (and that is definitely a crucial word when one speaks of Texas weather), forecasts call for highs of 94° on Wednesday, 96° on Thursday, 95° on Friday, 92° on Saturday and 95° on Sunday.

That's not jacket weather, but, after nearly a month of 100–plus–degree days, the difference should be noticeable.

And, what's even better, after tonight the nighttime lows are projected to be mostly in the 70s. The forecasts I've seen call for a low of 73° on Thursday night. I don't know if it will drop to that level or not — this is Dallas, after all, and it is August.

That doesn't help me right now, though.

Today — actually, tonight — I will be starting a new job as an adjunct journalism instructor at the nearby community college campus. I probably could use another hour or so of sleep, but I'm awake. Wide awake.

And I'm nervous. Without going into too much detail, I taught journalism on the university level in Oklahoma many years ago, but I gravitated away from both journalism and teaching. In the last couple of years, though, I have been out of work, like millions of other Americans, and the opportunity came up to teach journalism again.

Originally, I was supposed to teach two journalism courses this semester — news writing and news editing. Unfortunately, one (news editing) had low enrollment so it was canceled. I agreed to teach something I have never taught before — developmental writing — which meets for the first time tomorrow.

The news writing class meets tonight. And I'm nervous about that, but it's the kind of nervousness you have when you're about to do something you haven't done in a long time.

Developmental writing meets tomorrow, and, if anything, I am more nervous about that because it is a subject I have never taught before. Perhaps it is something that is better suited for someone with academic training in English. Then, again, perhaps these students can benefit from learning the basics of writing from someone with a journalism background.

I guess I will see.

I said earlier that my tendency is to be a morning person. That changed in college, when I found myself staying up all night to finish stories for my journalism classes or to study for major exams. Then I got my first newspaper job, which had more traditional hours (it was an afternoon paper), but I often found myself having to work at night so, rather than pay time and a half, the newspaper would compensate me in the form of time off during the day. Sometimes that made for short nights.

After two years of that, I took a job with a large metro paper, working on the sports staff as a copy editor. It was a morning paper so I worked nights. The hours varied, but, most nights, I didn't get home until after 1 o'clock. I kept my curtains closed because I couldn't run home and jump into bed. I need to wind down, and I didn't want to be wakened after about four hours.

So I got into the habit of sleeping late for the next 4½ years. Then I moved to Texas to work on my master's degree. And I got a job working at the newspaper, which was an afternoon paper, but editors had to be at work before the sun came up on weekdays in order to get everything done.

And the difference in my lifestyle was — literally — night and day.

After I got my master's, I took the job teaching journalism. And I enjoyed it, although I always felt I got mixed results. But, after my mother was killed in a flash flood, I felt the need to be close to my father, who had been injured in the flood but survived. And I returned to Dallas.

I worked as a writer/editor for a trade magazine for a couple of years, but after that, I sort of gravitated away from journalism.

Now, I'm about to return to the classroom. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm nervous about it at the same time.

I guess, when you combine my nervousness with my tendency to be a morning person, I'd be up early, anyway, even if it wasn't as hot as it has been. And I'll probably be waking up early every day until I feel more relaxed.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Evenings With Sir Paul



I'm having a very strange sensation today.

It feels kind of like Paul McCartney Week to me.

Well, by proxy.

Tomorrow night, McCartney will be playing in Tulsa, Okla., which is about 100 miles or so from where I went to college. I know someone who will be there. We went to college together. He's back in the area now, and he will be attending the show with his 10–year–old son. He e–mailed me about it recently and told me it will be his son's first rock 'n' roll show.

That's the kind of thing that makes me envious of my friends who found someone to share their lives with. The ones who have sons also get to experience these father–son moments — a first ballgame or a first rock concert, whatever shape the coming–of–age ritual may take.

(For instance, a guy I knew in school has established a personal tradition. When each of his sons has reached a certain age, the two of them go on father–son camping/fishing trips in the Canadian wilderness. It sounds like fun, but it isn't quite the same thing as spending an evening with Sir Paul.)

I've never met my friend's son. But I've been to ballgames with his father, and I've been to concerts with his father. In fact, I remember that, within a relatively short period, he and I went to concerts by REM and Eric Clapton and we went to a major college football game. I had a blast each time. I know his son will, too.

Imagine ... seeing Paul McCartney in your first concert. I think Three Dog Night performed at my first concert.

For that matter, the only Beatle I have ever seen in person was Ringo with his All–Starr Band. Now, Ringo is a Hall of Famer because he was with the Beatles, but he isn't a legend on his own like Paul McCartney.

I hope that young man appreciates the fact that he will be seeing a legend. I was about his age when I saw Three Dog Night. It was an enjoyable show, but it took me several years — and many concerts headlined by B–list entertainers — to work my way up to genuine legends.

So I have to wonder — what's next when your first concert experience is Paul McCartney? Where do you go from there?

Then, on Wednesday night, McCartney will be here in Dallas. I won't be going to that show, either, but my pastor will.

I don't know if he has ever seen McCartney before. But if this is his first time, I hope he enjoys the show. I'm sure he will. From what I have heard, McCartney puts on quite a performance.

I suspect that my pastor will get more from the show than an evening's entertainment — although I have no doubt McCartney will deliver. My pastor's a musician himself, and he plays with a band that participates in many charitable fundraisers locally. I've never been to a concert with him, but I know, as a writer, that I am influenced, both consciously and subconsciously, by things I read.

My guess is that it works the same way with musicians. On a conscious level, my pastor will enjoy listening to Sir Paul. He may even feel moved to sing along with him. And, on a subconscious level, he may be accumulating tips that will add to his performances in the future.

My old college friend is also a musician. There was even a time when he and I collaborated on songs (trust me, though, the Lennon–McCartney team is in no danger of being replaced in the public's affections). And I'm sure he'll be doing the same thing.

All kinds of things will be going on at the shows in Tulsa and Dallas this week. Wish I could be there.

Have fun, y'all.