Big rock show and going back in time

 I HAVEN'T GONE to a big rock show in seven years. I'm going Sunday. I'm dragging the soon-to-be retired-chief with me.

And I'm going back in time.

Adam Yates and I are going to see Triumph and April Wine in Maryland Heights at the big outdoor place named after a big business I don't remember. For those of you out of town, it's not far from St. Louis. 

Triumph? April Wine? Aren't they like 100 years old? 

Well. So am I.

I just want to go. I just want to see a great band play great songs. Yes, we will geek out at the gear and critique the sound and wonder about the drums cutting through the mix. But mostly I just want to enjoy the spectacle. 

Did I spend too much money and get good seats? Yes. See? Being old has its perks.

Triumph is fronted by Rik Emmett. He's one of my original rock and roll heroes. He is a huge reason I got really into the guitar and playing music. And he's still out there killing it.

So let's go back in time. I looked this up to make sure it happened. Thanks to the Kalamazoo public library, I now remember it was March 16, 1983. Triumph and Foghat played at Wings Stadium in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and my buddy Scott and I went. Tickets were $10.75, plus we had to pay a 25-cent surcharge for parking. We were seniors in high school. We probably had to scrape up the cash and gas money. 

I remember little about it, other than we were deaf for days after. We were on the floor not far from the stage. The pyro and light show blew out minds. People went nuts. It was glorious!

I'm not expecting to be deaf for days after Sunday's show. I think you make it what you want. You either want to be there or you don't. You are either gonna have a great time or you aren't. 

I'm gonna. I might even spring for premium parking so we can get in and out faster. I bet it's more than a quarter.

I'm young now, I'm wild now, I long to be free .... !!!!!!

 

 

Hallway walking rules

 AS A COURIER for Blessing Hospital, I walk six to seven miles a day, 11,000-plus steps. I spend a lot of time in the lower level of the main campus by the 10th Street loading dock, picking up at the pharmacy and heading to the 927 building via the second floor skywalk over 10th.

It can be hazardous. There should be rules posted on walls. Not that anybody would look up from their phones to read them.

That's the No. 1 obstacle to safe hallway walking. Don't. Look. At. Your. Phone. Keep your head up while you walk. How I haven't run somebody over yet with my flatcart full of stuff is a miracle, but there's always tomorrow. That recipe you are looking at or Insta-Chat message can wait until you get to your office or cafeteria. 

So ...

1. No phones.

2. Stay in the middle. Don't hug the side when approaching one of many hallway T intersections. There is also a jog in the 927 Broadway second floor skywalk that connects the two buildings. I've had many a near miss there. I'd really like to have a chat with whoever designed the 927 building but it may not end well so we'll skip that bad idea.

3. Groups beware. When walking with a colleague or friend, don't hog the whole hallway. If you are coming up on a turn, be ready to line up single file. And it's amazing how many people I see talking to each other AND still glued to phones. Multitasking. Beautiful.

4. Say hello when passing somebody. There are a few people who prefer to stare straight ahead and not say anything, and that's OK. But really ... does it hurt to acknowledge your fellow human being?

5. Stop. Don't jump. Sometimes coming around a corner and finding somebody right in front of you is inevitable. "You scared me!" is something I hear at least once a week. Usually we end up laughing about it. And it's unintentionally hilarious when we both try to go the same way and almost collide again. Just do the Blessing Hallway Cha Cha and dance around each other. It wakes you up! 

6. Point them in the right direction. Going to the hospital can be intimidating. We see so many poor souls in hallways trying to find a doctor's office or department. Be patient and help them out. I got lost for a month straight when I started taking stuff around. 

That's it. Be safe in the hallways, Blessing peeps. Hallways are highways and highways always get your there - unless you don't look up from your phone.

Drivers using phones. Grrrr ....  

 

 

Falling down and getting up at Gem City movement

HEADS UP, SAM McElvie. I'm coming to your class this week. You'll get a workout too, from laughing at my lack of mobility and falling down. You've seen it before.

Sam just opened Gem City Movement at Eighth and State in Calftown. She had an open house Saturday morning, and the place looks amazing.

The thought of going to a fitness center or gym can be intimidating. Gem City Movement is anything but intimidating. Everybody is invited and everybody can do it. The idea is to move, however much you can. Or, in my case, can't.

Actually I'm in decent shape right now, mostly from walking six-plus miles a day as a courier for Blessing. I'm trying to eat better. And I quit drinking, a huge reason.

I don't know Sam that well but I have immense respect for her, and she is one of the few people I follow on social media. A while back she wrote about her decision to not drink anymore, and it resonated. It's not about having a problem or getting a DUI or relying on it to get through the day - it's all about not feeling like crap after you drink.

Haven't missed it a bit.

Saturday morning at her studio, I was talking to Judge Tad Brenner, himself a great story about moving and coming back from a serious injury. Sam came up and made a joke about me being so tall. I told her I can't jump or move that well so it all evens out.

"Oh, I've seen you fall off a stage. You can move," she said.

True. She's referring to the legendary YWCA lip-sync contest, which our little group won, by the way. It was worth busting up the ribs and it was all for a good cause - I showed Sam the photos of my rib cage a few days after the event and even she was impressed.

This morning I'm reminded why I do need to move more. We had glorious Prospect Road gigs over the weekend - Saturday night we played a private 50th birthday party, and Sunday afternoon we were at the Dock.

The party was just that - a party. Like most it took a while but once they dove in, it was chaos. On Sunday the Dock was packed and we seemed to hit a groove. 

I am not responsible for my own behavior at gigs, especially with a wireless guitar. People say I move around a lot. I have no idea. It's just part of playing. But this morning, it's slow glowing, and it will probably be worse tomorrow. 

It used to be a lot easier a few years ago. At 61, it won't get easier. So ... I need to do things like go to Sam's "Mobility + Core by CIRCL" class this week. Who cares if it sounds like she's going to kill us all? "It's just a lot of getting up and down," she said.

That's it. I need help getting up and down. I fall down. A lot. And if I'm trying to read the directions on my new electric mower, I have to bend down and take off my glasses and I end up on my knees, and it's a lot of work to get back up. You try being 5-foot-19.

Sam? I'm ready to move. 

You'd better be ready to help me back up, if needed. 

 

Golf naps and games on the radio

 YOU CAN TRY to relive childhood. But age always catches up.

Always.

I followed the NCAA basketball tournaments, both men and women. But the men's Final Four wasn't on network television. I understand that cable networks pay gazillions to show the games, but I'm not subscribing to Tru TBS Lame-A-Vision for one weekend. Sling is one of the choices for cable - it's a gigantic ripoff, and I don't watch it enough.

So I found the men's Final Four semifinal game between Michigan and Arizona on the radio. Actually, online. And it took me back. 

When I was a kid, before running water and electricity, I listened to the radio all the time. I remember finding Montreal Canadiens hockey games on French radio when we lived in Montreal, circa the early 70s. I could sort of follow along.("LaFleur ... Il tire, il marque!"). Even in high school, the legendary Detroit Tigers announcers Ernie Harwell and Paul Carey were the soothing summer night sounds often lulling me into Zs.

I managed to listen to most of the Michigan blowout win. Monday night, Michigan played UConn in the national title game, and I planned to listen to the second half.

But I fell asleep. So I woke up at 4 a.m. and found out what happened. Ah, the joys of being 61.

Yesterday was the Masters golf tournament and the compelling tale of Rory McElroy going after his second straight green jacket. Prospect Road had a riot Saturday night at The Club Tavern, and Sunday was busy until about 4, so I was dead tired.

I finally collapsed on the couch, turned on the TV, and saw five or six players who had a chance to win. So what did I do?

I immediately fell asleep. At least Coco had a lap for one of her 39 daily naps. 

I was in and out the entire back nine, which is kind of the way I play golf too, now that you mention it.

Way to go Rory. I got a good nap. I went to bed at 9 and read and was out by 9:30.

Of course, falling asleep and staying asleep are two different things. Another story for another day.

Nap on, old man. Maybe I'll try to find a Blue Jays or Tigers game online tonight.

 

creature of unhabit

 IT'S SAID WE are creatures of habit. I'm a creature of unhabit.

I have been neglecting this blog. I don't know why. I really don't have much to say anymore. I'm just a former newspaper and music store guy who picks up labs for a living. I've had a lot of adventures. If asked, I'll tell you all about them. But I'm not a Web Warrior who thinks he's better than anybody else.

So ... I've been quiet.

When I wrote columns and stories for The Whig, I cared about what people would think. The better the subject the better the product, but .... reaction was motivation.

Now? It's live and let live. Unless you are an idiot. 

I gotta get back to the habit of writing, if only to please a few people. Or not please them. 

This past weekend, I got out of the unhabit. Namely, I cleaned. What? 

I have three upstairs rooms. One serves as a spare bedroom. The other two are just .... rooms with stuff. 

My brother Steve and his son Riley are coming this summer for a visit. I'm going to need another bedroom. And another bed. Wait ... that's another blog idea.

See? Getting out of unhabits is starting to work.

I had a rare Saturday off - no guitar lessons, no gig that night. So I trudged upstairs and I cleaned out the big junk room.

I only hit my head on the ceiling fan twice. I only cursed breaking a bookcase once. Actually, five times. Getting out of unhabits can lead to bad habits. But I'll take it.

I threw away five or six big empty cardboard boxes. Actually, I took them to the recycle place. I filled two garbage bags with useless stuff. Hey! Another blog idea! What is useless, and what isn't?

In about two hours, the room was empty. I even (gasp) vacuumed. Please don't tell anybody.

I put everything in the smaller of the two junk rooms. It's stacked and organized. I won't be able to find anything. But it's ... there.

Later Saturday, I moved some music stuff upstairs to the empty room. It's going to be Riley's Room, but for now, it's Uncle Rotknee's Guitar Tone Chasing Lab. I'm having a ball.

I'm out of the habit of ignoring a project. And, believe it or not, I just bought an electric lawnmower and used it for the first time yesterday.

But that's another blog for another day. If I can get back in the habit.

 

 

 

Prayers for Justin Haubrich and family

 LOCAL MUSICIAN JUSTIN Haubrich passed away Friday night after an ATV accident on family property in Missouri. He was 37. He leaves a wife and four young sons. 

Devastating.

I do not claim to be great friends with Justin or know him that well. But I do know this - he was one of the best musicians around. 

Justin played in the amazing band El Gentlemen. Nobody can touch them for what they do- classic rock and party music. They play songs other bands can only dream of doing. 

Justin was the guitar player. He was a shredder but he also could ... play. I'd watch him at Octoberfest and Mayfest and I'd want to throw my guitars into the river. He was also a great sax player. 

Sadly, his family has been through this before. Justin's brother Zak passed away years ago after a vehicle crash. The annual celebration of Zak's life at The Dock was always one of Quincy's biggest and best shows. 

 Justin was also a good Second String Music customer and we were always glad to see him when he came in to buy strings. He'd always talk about how crazy his life was with little kids. But you could tell he loved it.

A few years ago I was playing with Prospect Road at a garage party. Justin was there. He was good friends with our singer, Alicia. We took a break and Justin asked if he could play a few songs with Alicia and maybe somebody else.

I just remember thinking when he got done that my guitar never sounded that good when I played it.

At the end of the night he gave me a big hug and thanked me for letting him jam. 

That was Justin. 

I have the song Heartbeat City by The Cars swirling around in my head and I can't stop thinking about Justin's parents, wife, sons, friends, bandmates.

His death is a massive hole that will never be covered up. Never. And we will never understand it. 

Peace and prayers to you, Justin. You were one of the best.