Daily Blues & Views

 They disappear. People, treasured memories, cherished objects.  From car keys to one-time friends, to collections, to everyday items, things disappear.   Over a lifetime, a few chosen objects or people irritate the mind.  Where did they go?  We all have these mysteries.  For me it's a few folks I knew in college, my baseball cards, and accidental displacements. I had a robust collection of 1950s baseball cards between the ages of 8 and 12.  Lots from the glory years of 1951-1956.  They were in a couple of shoe boxes, the thin ones that originally held US Keds.  After I turned about 14, they went from my bedroom closet to the garage.  At least that's what I tell myself.  By the time I left my childhood home for good and returned to clean it out after my father's death, they were nowhere to be seen.  Nobody in my family would have thrown them out.  Nevertheless, like so many before me, they disappeared.   When I see 19...

 After my lifelong friend Kenny died, his partner sent me some of his books, records, and fly fishing gear.  Kenny and I met at age 9 in the dugout of the Sun Valley Little League during the tryouts in 1956.  Through Jr. high and high school we remained friends,  Even though we went to different colleges, we stayed close.  In fact it is during those years between the ages of 19-22 that we cemented our shared interest in the burgeoning folk/rock music scene, beat poets, foreign films, and baseball.  Living in LA in the late 1960s we had a wonderland of opportunities to see iconic blues and jazz artists.  We frequented small bookstore readings, music clubs, and small cinema houses that featured many films from the iconic European filmmakers.  Kenny read widely and most of the time, had his own car and knew the geography of the vast LA basin.  In later years from the 80s to early 2000s we went on fly fishing trips together, camping and exploring...

 These eyes are deep brown, They've seen for decades. Sights include: Those who hate (heard too) Emotional darts thrown at the vulnerable. Poverty from aging wooden homes, Whose walls have child-eyes, Empty kitchens, Clothes long gone, cheap highs in the gutter, Catatonic, clinging survivors, unemployment waiting rooms, unnecessary wars, Prime of life interrupted, Friends gone too soon. Then too,  meadow streams, Alpine lakes, Crystal rivers, Love returned, isolation, watercolor worlds, gleaming coat of a thoroughbred, Black spotted golden Redside trout, Fluorescent blue/pink spotted Brook trout, Black/tan Brown trout, Willie Mays play, 100,000 people in the street, Iron gate at the White House, Coffins on the Capital steps, Texas, Montana, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Newark, New Orleans, Baltimore, Portland, Atlanta, Dallas, Los Cabos, Mex. from above, Son House, Lightnin' Hopkins, Howlin' Wolf, Elvis, Arthur Crudup, Miles, Brownie and Sonny, Big Mama, Donovan, Dylan,  Ap...

 It was a moment in time.  Something that could hardly happen again.  Imagine going into a place to look at and probably buy some records of some of your favorite artists, and seeing one or two of them right next to you in the store.   In the late 1960s I spent a lot of time in and around the famed LA folk/blues club, the Ash Grove.  It was where I could see performances by legends like Son House, Howlin" Wolf, Elizabeth Cotton, and Big Mama Thornton.  The place was a living museum and gave me an opportunity to see many influential performers in the last years of their lives.  People like Sleepy John Estes,  Yank Rachel, Lightnin" Hopkins, Hedy West, and Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup all played there.  Crude was the bluesman who wrote and recorded "That's Alright" in 1947, well before a young Elvis Presley took it and added a rockabilly beat and soon became the "King" of Rock and Roll." If Presley was the King, Crudup was the Father. Presley m...

 As the clock winds down on the 2024 Presidential election, the mood is tense and foreboding.  It wasn't always this way.  Still, a quick look at the history of our elections shows some striking similarities.  This election is the most crucial in our lifetime...they all say.  As a 7th grader in Jr. High I recall how the Nixon/Kennedy race of 1960 was described that way.  The week before the vote the popular sit-com "The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis even ended its program with a giant question mark.  If we only knew how both those candidates would end up taking their place in history!  You can watch that episode here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvV8xaL8TIY I recall, too, how we debated the issues in my classes.  Those activities were spirited, to be sure, but nothing like the climate today.  Back then we all took Government classes with a big-ass textbook.  We learned about the 3 branches of government, the various intricacies of ...