tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203509112024-03-07T13:33:26.988-08:00The Whitsuntide Singers Blog (Est. 2005) Ramblings, reflections, epiphanies, flashbacks, and music reviews loosely connected to my Folk group of the late 1960'sTomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-9913910337200918722023-09-05T14:11:00.011-07:002023-09-05T14:23:07.200-07:00MEETING JIMMY BUFFETT<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZ5FVM4f3U5Qx8YbHyo-5ECbxD-CWEogLJyunmojDvRtUULq_zAfZ9VxGT69vb-df3K0o5j2HlhzEOr_ukVW2ytTCRWP4n2qTO80GfQ3DJdm5K9c5dGKQuA-MckuZtACrVwmXuU30rTRhMyZj_3GSBELItOPTGK7WQ0PAUn0WbGe704h59gRc8Q/s973/374559140_277484591735413_6351976904394745167_n.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="200" data-original-height="973" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZ5FVM4f3U5Qx8YbHyo-5ECbxD-CWEogLJyunmojDvRtUULq_zAfZ9VxGT69vb-df3K0o5j2HlhzEOr_ukVW2ytTCRWP4n2qTO80GfQ3DJdm5K9c5dGKQuA-MckuZtACrVwmXuU30rTRhMyZj_3GSBELItOPTGK7WQ0PAUn0WbGe704h59gRc8Q/s200/374559140_277484591735413_6351976904394745167_n.jpeg"/></a></div>
In 1973 I was managing a motel by O'Hare Airport in Chicago. After work I would have a few beers in the lounge to relax. I fed the juke box quarters and listened to the mostly country songs to select from. I saw a title "Why Don't We Get Drunk And Screw"! The other patrons loved it and it was a instant ice breaker and loosened up the crowd. That was my introduction to the singer/songwriter (among a handfull more) I would have as my life's soundtrack for decades to come. Fast forward a few months to February of 1974 when I found out he was playing a The Quiet Knight, a Chicago folk club I frequented constantly. I recall a cold snowy midweek evening, that only a few hardy souls ventured out into. There was a bartender, a waitress, a dozen or so concert goers, Jimmy and me! A wonderful show with "before the beach" songs on his set list. After the performance he sat on a barstool at the door and drank a few beers with us folks milling around, not wanting the magic to end. Jimmy shook everybody's hand, and thanked us for coming out in such increment weather. That's when I guess I became a pre-parrothead... Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-34645524645976555642023-03-27T18:06:00.001-07:002023-03-27T18:06:55.318-07:00About five years ago I got a phone call from a writer/author who was doing a book about the history of country and folk music in Chicago. He wanted to set up a phone interview to ask me about those halcyon days, when I was immersed in that scene. We had a couple nice conversations, and then I forgot all about it. Not long ago I learned that the University of Chicago Press had published this wonderful book. I ordered it and it arrived today. Pages 273-274 Mark Guarino writes about "It's Here" the popular folk club my group, The Whitsuntide Singers played as the house band. We opened for Bob Gibson, Josh White Jr., Bonnie Koloc and other headliners. So now my group is ensconced with a grateful smidgeon of recognition for the half dozen years I played professionally. I was in the right place at the right time, back when supply could not keep up with demand (for folk music). Circa 1966, if you had good three part harmony and knew four chords you worked every night!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAX01r6cd_7n8gijpk8Vz_ccs-jpdYf-eCAJglZRllFpq2tp9tVGiw-Ju5csTzFJlXJZF1QIP6lLhpYa94oAuj0I7wfmtUirmtQ7eZPpupDXuMzwUX1hR8L1ygwTBoKvt6bJmwbR0t2m6EG8TuOALQ2Vgn5d4ix8DIQCfgLSwTjxNAMaZSKXw/s1635/317436014_10227359451585692_8563487788316512496_n.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1635" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAX01r6cd_7n8gijpk8Vz_ccs-jpdYf-eCAJglZRllFpq2tp9tVGiw-Ju5csTzFJlXJZF1QIP6lLhpYa94oAuj0I7wfmtUirmtQ7eZPpupDXuMzwUX1hR8L1ygwTBoKvt6bJmwbR0t2m6EG8TuOALQ2Vgn5d4ix8DIQCfgLSwTjxNAMaZSKXw/s320/317436014_10227359451585692_8563487788316512496_n.jpeg"/></a></div>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-68413085894180806492021-05-24T12:50:00.006-07:002021-05-25T14:15:07.892-07:00Our Magic Carpet Ride<p> In 1966 The Whitsuntide Trio became the The Whitsuntide Singers when we added Barb, our first of three female vocalists. One of the higher profile venues we played was The Flying Carpet Hotel in Rosemont, Il. (by O'Hare Airport). We performed in their show lounge, as the property mimicked the Las Vegas strip. Crowds were large, appreciative, and way over served! We were riding the wave of folk music's exploding popularity. This iteration of the group most resembled "The Seekers" or "We Five". We were a good cover band for the hungry masses who didn't know the difference!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-48CSgdXjBfSp_RkbZjAdKU6oBupVguFurEj5051YyXoTiqjEVvRuY5pdunt4Xz3ANP8wqv1eRSX4q8ehOoh_CO2PB1kU_TNd-pMuaTSM2a5xAXlp_z3Ig2HO22beCRPoLPz1aA/s400/54F6EEFA-3CEF-4C54-96F2-1C402F6FE42A_4_5005_c.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-48CSgdXjBfSp_RkbZjAdKU6oBupVguFurEj5051YyXoTiqjEVvRuY5pdunt4Xz3ANP8wqv1eRSX4q8ehOoh_CO2PB1kU_TNd-pMuaTSM2a5xAXlp_z3Ig2HO22beCRPoLPz1aA/s320/54F6EEFA-3CEF-4C54-96F2-1C402F6FE42A_4_5005_c.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6at9kc9PKfDTBZn8C4sre1ujiTzJm7uAyZeGX7jiA_0GdSEeaqJ-k4snmaly0q98Q08OpLBWQQ_XxWSzyDuu5732PSQx7l94HD85jlu3-PTXUCgmb-Bf2fjG27xjy0Y8Fq1Eag/s1024/4948637329_38ba98af72_b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6at9kc9PKfDTBZn8C4sre1ujiTzJm7uAyZeGX7jiA_0GdSEeaqJ-k4snmaly0q98Q08OpLBWQQ_XxWSzyDuu5732PSQx7l94HD85jlu3-PTXUCgmb-Bf2fjG27xjy0Y8Fq1Eag/s320/4948637329_38ba98af72_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-42300422823350072372020-06-12T08:35:00.001-07:002020-06-12T08:44:00.741-07:00<font size="2"><span style="color: #1c1e21; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a 73 year old white guy. I was born into a suburban republican family back when the party actually had principles, and stood for something. I remember going to first grade with an "I Like Ike" campaign button on. I still like Ike to this day. Especially his quote during his farewell speech warning "Beware of the military/industrial complex"...Apparently nobody listened. </span></span><br />
</font><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font size="2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><div class="yiv1778898515">I'm not sure at what point the GOP lost their way. What I am pretty certain of, is that the hi-jacking (by the right-wing sociopaths like Cheney) had gained a foothold during Dubya's second term.
</div>
</span></span></font></div>
<div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="yiv1778898515_1mf yiv1778898515_1mj" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><font size="2">Fast forward: Today's Republicans spout terms "Christian values" and "free market system", but at every turn they show their hypocrisy by ignoring Jesus' teachings and cornering the markets. Most hard core republicans are insecure and self-centered. They tend to exhibit egocentric outward behavior, and language dominated by the words Me, Me, Me and I, I, I. And COVID-19 has truly laid conservatives' inner deficits bare.</font></span></span></div></div><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><font size="2"><br /></font></span></div><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font size="2"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The sad fact is that republicans are just "wired" differently than (dare I say) normal people i.e., folks with a little empathy and compassion. Repugs </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">seem to be</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> only interested in what they can extract from a business transaction or a relationship. Their mantra is "What's in it for me?" You see if it's not affecting or benefiting them, they simply don't care. They believe if they go to church on Sunday and drop a few bucks in the collection plate, they've done their part for their fellow man. </span>
</font></div>
<div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><font size="2"><br /></font></span></div><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font size="2"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Republicans crave an insulated existence focusing on what they consider to be the finer things of life. The operative word there being "things". They by-in-large equate happiness with material objects, and measure success in terms of wealth. To varying degrees Repugs are generally void of the virtue of trust, because basically they judge others by themselves. They cannot be re-programmed, because these character flaws are in their DNA.</span>
</font></div>
<div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><font size="2"><br /></font></span></div><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><font size="2">The incomprehensible damage they are now inflicting on American society, and the world in general (read health and the environment) is evidence that our democracy is in peril. This current administration of greedy, selfish GOP assholes must not go unchecked. We cannot sit on the sidelines. The 2018 Midterms show change CAN, and must be accomplished. Vote Blue 2020 as if your life, or way of life depends on it! </font></span>
</div><div class="yiv1778898515" style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
</div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-91656868045710735652018-10-12T13:32:00.001-07:002018-10-12T13:33:48.449-07:00Red Molly - '1952 Vincent Black Lightning' (Glasgow, 2014)Super Band and song!<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VJa8QoUcN5A" width="480"></iframe>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-45810530779155724442018-07-16T08:28:00.003-07:002018-07-16T08:28:53.502-07:00Hitting the Stage Again?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSZivtODj6RFleMz0wH7G8tQO_eS-er5JJTg2ZrGUyY0xApyBxlyoM8NCGl5Hz3fC88FxK5p8CDmyZmbngzVRi2lTN2GRLfLmgj-Mm3StwDvL0Xdc1mPUky-Hhy_T7JUkXnSnUQ/s1600/tom+bhfs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSZivtODj6RFleMz0wH7G8tQO_eS-er5JJTg2ZrGUyY0xApyBxlyoM8NCGl5Hz3fC88FxK5p8CDmyZmbngzVRi2lTN2GRLfLmgj-Mm3StwDvL0Xdc1mPUky-Hhy_T7JUkXnSnUQ/s1600/tom+bhfs.jpg" /></a></div>
The highlight of this Summer has been to play music almost weekly with members of the Black Hawk Folk Society. Recently I got to sing with members of <span style="color: #38761d;"><i><b>Swamp Road</b></i></span> at the local 4th of July celebration. It's been a long time since I've had the confidence to perform in front of an audience. It feels good!<br /><span id="goog_1644633442"></span><span id="goog_1644633443"></span><br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-9117620939016122992017-09-29T12:34:00.001-07:002017-09-29T12:34:12.202-07:00Quote of the Day
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:SimSun;
mso-font-alt:宋体;
mso-font-charset:134;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 680460288 22 0 262145 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:none;
font-size:10.5pt;
mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;
mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
-->
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There
is no need of fear on this journey. “Certainly we will experience evil and good
– that divine good which is present to us in hope…..for what we experience as
evil is no longer serious unless we insist on making it so for ourselves.”
[Journals of Thomas Merton: Harper Collins: 1997]</span></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-79440465002695661162016-12-12T12:04:00.000-08:002016-12-12T15:28:14.341-08:00SNOWED IN WITH MICHAEL PETER SMITHThis past weekend the <i>Black Hawk Folk Society</i> presented one of America's finest singer/songwriters, Michael Peter Smith.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagtxSKMA2xIKEnO0_2uax9-3TjtTrXxpkZ-9GVrgqW6l5I5dEJLUvo3ye8dlRCjWK6S7LIla3tssKxeXuI6630EngYKp9R7A9HRGM3K3Kj6pRjgNMyLFX4AeFophPe_vwccJRgw/s1600/MichaelPeterSmith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagtxSKMA2xIKEnO0_2uax9-3TjtTrXxpkZ-9GVrgqW6l5I5dEJLUvo3ye8dlRCjWK6S7LIla3tssKxeXuI6630EngYKp9R7A9HRGM3K3Kj6pRjgNMyLFX4AeFophPe_vwccJRgw/s400/MichaelPeterSmith.jpg" /></a> Smith is best known for his iconic composition "The Dutchman". A beautiful, sensitive, and poetic piece popularized by Steve Goodman, Liam Clancy, Gamble Rogers, and covered by countless others.<br />
<br />
The concert was lightly attended (by usual standards) due to an well publicized impending snowstorm. But the nearly three dozen folks, who did brave the weather were treated to yet another example of Michael's legendary artistry.<br />
The snow arrived on schedule, and as he and I drove back across the countryside to our home in the woods, it became apparent that he would be with us for awhile.<br />
<br />
We opened a bottle of fine wine, stoked the fireplace and got to know each other as snow piled up outside. That evening Michael shared with us (among other topics) his journey through the beloved genre (with a good dose of humor I might add). My wife and I soon learned that the <b>Dos Equis </b>fella is definitely <u>NOT</u> "the most interesting man in the world"!<br />
<br />
<b>The Dutchman</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">by Michael Peter Smith <i><br /></i></span><br />
<br />
<i>The Dutchman's not the kind of man
</i><i>To keep his thumb jammed in the dam
<br />That holds his dreams in
<br />But that's a secret only Margaret knows
<br />When Amsterdam is golden in the morning
<br />Margaret brings him breakfast
<br />She believes him
<br />He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
<br />He's mad as he can be but Margaret only sees that sometimes
<br />Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes</i><br />
<i>
</i>
<i>(chorus)<br />
Let us go to the banks of the ocean<br />
Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee<br />
Long ago I used to be a young man<br />
And dear Margaret remembers that for me</i><br />
<i>
</i><i>
The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes<br />
His cap and coat are patched with love<br />
That Margaret sewed in<br />
Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam<br />
He watches tugboats down canals<br />
And calls out to them when he thinks he knows the captain<br />
'Til Margaret comes to take him home again<br />
Through unforgiving streets that trip him<br />
Though she holds his arm<br />
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name</i><br />
<i>
</i>
<i>(chorus)</i><br />
<i>
</i><i>
The windmills whirl the winter in<br />
She winds his muffler tighter<br />
They sit in the kitchen<br />
Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew<br />
He sees her for a moment calls her name<br />
She makes the bed up humming some old love song<br />
She learned it when the tune was very new<br />
He hums a line or two<br />
They hum together in the night<br />
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out</i>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-23989932334485669102016-11-09T13:47:00.003-08:002016-11-09T13:47:55.440-08:00An Old Song Fitting For 11/9/16<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
The Man Who Would Be King - John Stewart (1939 - 2008)</div>
<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Oh it’s time to tell the children<br />That it’s not about the war<br />It’s not about the winning,<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><br />It’s not about the score<br />It’s time to tell the children<br />That it’s not about the rings<br />That we put upon the fingers<br />Of the man who would be king</span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Oh it’s time to tell the children<br />That it’s not about the gold<br />It’s not about the money<br />Things that are bought and sold<br />It’s time to tell the children<br />That they don’t mean a thing<br />Like the rings upon the fingers<br />Of the man who would be king</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Oh it’s time to tell the children That it’s not about the plan<br />To see who is the richest<br />Or the baddest in the land<br />It’s time to tell the children<br />That the birds upon the wing<br />They would never give their power<br />To the man who would be king<br />They would never give their power<br />To the man who would be king</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Don’t you realize? When you see the clues<br />Right before your eyes On the evening news<br />Don’t you realize? That the children know<br />What the children see Is where the children go<br />Oh it’s time to tell the children<br />That it is about the heart<br />That it is about the people<br />Of this world we are apart<br />That it is about forgiving<br />Those who stole the rings<br />To put upon the fingers<br />Of the man who would be king</div>
</div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-27025918749381344482016-02-25T12:34:00.002-08:002016-02-25T14:54:23.428-08:00Time For A New LookAfter ten years on the Web, and over 25,000 views I think it's time this old blog takes on a new appearance. And since I am void of followers due to extremely infrequent postings, who really cares? Most of the folks who stumble on this endeavor are bored net surfers hoping to find something interesting. If you are one of those individuals you might want to hit the "Next" button now.Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-11568478639457066072015-11-03T13:20:00.001-08:002015-11-03T13:20:28.185-08:00A NEW PAGE...Well my world of folk music has taken yet another turn. I now handle the bookings for the Black Hawk Folk Society. This new endeavor will not only be fun but increase my exposure to some of the great new up and coming artists in the genre.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2BNWFf74V9AAkAPDVFmnAVRL3G3Q4Yg2wfvVAOoFN8-Xg8c3iL14k6wf8GkHLOGEuroyfBQusJUrqtZii_5FAM8f6KpRXBxGDCosHbH5ILMZO88g63NsG5ShnxVEihlpEt9Nfg/s1600/65785_158182810882261_2718195_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2BNWFf74V9AAkAPDVFmnAVRL3G3Q4Yg2wfvVAOoFN8-Xg8c3iL14k6wf8GkHLOGEuroyfBQusJUrqtZii_5FAM8f6KpRXBxGDCosHbH5ILMZO88g63NsG5ShnxVEihlpEt9Nfg/s320/65785_158182810882261_2718195_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-297653229014427862015-06-02T16:23:00.001-07:002016-02-25T14:57:25.769-08:00EAGLES THEN AND NOWIt's been almost 45 years since I've seen the Eagles live. Actually they weren't even the Eagles yet. Don Henley and Glen Frey were Linda Ronstad's backup band when I saw her at the Quiet Knight in Chicago after her breakup with the Stone Ponies. Not long after that those two fellas joined up with Bernie Leadon and Randy Meisner and "America's Band"was formed. But I was on to them early and saw them open for <b><i>Yes</i></b> before they got really big.<br />
<br />
Now decades later I will see them <u>ALL</u> again at a concert in Green Bay, WI! <b><i>The History of The Eagles Tour </i></b> includes Leadon along with the current lineup that features Timothy B. Schmidt and Joe Walsh.<br />
<br />
Now I'm not a concert goer much anymore. But the seats are comp (in a luxury suite) along with a hotel room for the night. So this is gonna be really cool!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6tfj2GczJHoN3z8P_dj-4CHcp5xfmPQ8OWZpJFn6XBl1IQjrj0iuwYTHZD2MSMG99dHbdxrdzu4tObViD5HTns0_eX2uXvE83CIHT1RCmiwXNp-EnphATCSPQRimgTq-MUPj3g/s1600/eagles-band-original-members.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6tfj2GczJHoN3z8P_dj-4CHcp5xfmPQ8OWZpJFn6XBl1IQjrj0iuwYTHZD2MSMG99dHbdxrdzu4tObViD5HTns0_eX2uXvE83CIHT1RCmiwXNp-EnphATCSPQRimgTq-MUPj3g/s320/eagles-band-original-members.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-90141745129940371282015-02-25T17:38:00.000-08:002015-02-25T17:38:29.847-08:00"Let's Play Two"!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKgXCJbkny5pmwWBBwNc-c21PPi1ZMbz9LBDf-25lEPahxWZQW96I52yYSkHEL6vsgqmjRIjclXQJIt_ahz-69xpgpxwk5KgTU1zFfKCHZ-fhavYDtKsVV3sybMQlX5rpGEJFgg/s1600/sunset-over-baseball-diamond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKgXCJbkny5pmwWBBwNc-c21PPi1ZMbz9LBDf-25lEPahxWZQW96I52yYSkHEL6vsgqmjRIjclXQJIt_ahz-69xpgpxwk5KgTU1zFfKCHZ-fhavYDtKsVV3sybMQlX5rpGEJFgg/s1600/sunset-over-baseball-diamond.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Lenny sits in front of his cubicle on a rickety folding chair. A huge smile comes across his sun tanned face as Ernie Banks walks into the clubhouse at Pearly Gates Field! After some whoops, hollers and back slapping Ernie scans the vast locker room. Banks squints and slowly moves in Len's direction. Above the locker next to Lenny the plaque says<b> #14 Banks</b>. Ernie grabs Lenny by the elbow and says "Looks like us Chicago guys are together". Len's mouth opens but nothing comes out. He looks feverishly in his glove for a baseball, but remembers that he flipped it to his dad. "Does anybody have a damn ball?" Lenny yells. Clemente comes over and hands the rookie a Spalding. "Ernie...would you sign this"? Banks says "Sure if you will too". Lenny thinks to himself that he's really gonna like this heaven place.</div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-46688760948521558232015-01-07T12:23:00.001-08:002015-01-07T12:39:16.011-08:00YESTERDAY IN HEAVEN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3KIv20zousQ4w2HgNuwyzBwgw7Mev1TsVzm_KM6VSfwM-e6LH2PMCrGwhrkPa73U6hZOKsZzsecjA9jlndzFcXW8c-wk5Z-LKNg2f71MsrHMWh4uWGUjb4iKSvPuBHtwNr2VOA/s1600/baseball-field-and-morning-sky1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3KIv20zousQ4w2HgNuwyzBwgw7Mev1TsVzm_KM6VSfwM-e6LH2PMCrGwhrkPa73U6hZOKsZzsecjA9jlndzFcXW8c-wk5Z-LKNg2f71MsrHMWh4uWGUjb4iKSvPuBHtwNr2VOA/s1600/baseball-field-and-morning-sky1.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I had a dream last night about a baseball game played in heaven. The following is a narrative as best I can remember...<br />
<br />
PLACE: Pearly Gates Field<br />
TIME: Eternity<br />
PRESENT: Former major league manager for the Padres, Rangers, Red Sox, and Cubs...Don Zimmer and baseball TV commentator Harry Carey<br />
<br />
Harry: "So Zim, who's the rookie?"<br />
<br />
Don: "Names Dwelle, just got here...(Zimmer spits tobacco)<br />
<br />
Harry: "Dwelle...he Italian?"<br />
<br />
Don: "Don't think so, I think I'm gonna start him today. He's suppose to be a really good center fielder". <br />
<br />
Harry: Can I do a quick interview before the game Zim?"<br />
<br />
Don: "Yup, but make it quick I wanna see what he's got". (Zimmer spits tobacco again)<br />
<br />
Harry: "Hey rook, gotta second"?<br />
(Harry waving his microphone in the air)<br />
<br />
Len: "Sure, what's up? Hey aren't you Harry...Car...(Len extends his hand)<br />
<br />
Harry: "Yeah, nice to meet you kid, I mean Lenny. So where did you play ball down on earth? I see your jersey says <i><b>Saint Stephens</b></i>." (Harry makes some notes on his pad)<br />
<br />
Len: "That's my grammar school, I was on the Des Plaines Catholic All star team back in the day."<br />
(Len briefly looks over Carey's shoulder peers out at the field behind him. A broad smile comes over his face) That's the most beautiful baseball diamond I've ever seen, it almost sparkles!"<br />
<br />
Harry: "Lenny, it actually does sparkle. That's Pearly Gates Field...It's heaven you know."<br />
(Len drops his sunglasses off his forehead to the bridge of his nose and puts his ball cap on)<br />
<br />
Len: "Do I get to play on it?" (slipping his hand into his glove)<br />
<br />
Harry: "Yeah, Zim says you are in center, says you cover it like a blanket...have an arm like a cannon."<br />
(Harry puts his hand on Lenny's shoulder and points out to right field) That #24 is..."<br />
<br />
Len: "That's Roberto Clemente! I'm gonna play next to the greatest right fielder of all time?"<br />
(Roberto shades his eyes and gives Lenny the thumbs up)<br />
Harry: "You ain't seen nothing yet fella. Say, you see your parents yet?"<br />
<br />
Len: "Sure, the second I got here. That's them in the front row over the third base dugout. I really missed them." (Len waves at his mom and dad, and they wave back half standing)<br />
<br />
Harry: "Cute puppy, he yours? (Harry bends down to pat the small mostly black dog on the head)<br />
<br />
Len: "That's Raleigh, boy was he happy to see me! But he looks a lot younger than I remember though."<br />
<br />
Harry: "We are all a little younger here if you haven't noticed. You too kiddo! Len, Zim is giving me the eye. You better go get ready for the game before we get in trouble."<br />
(Len looks out at the field again for a long minute)<br />
<br />
Len: "That's the most beautiful baseball diamond I've ever seen, it almost sparkles!"<br />
(Lenny turns and trots briskly to the home team dugout bounding down the steps, flips the ball from his Wilson A2000 to his dad and disappears up into the brilliantly bright tunnel)<br />
<br />
TO BE CONTINUED...<br />
<br />
<br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-73622436864843863842014-08-15T14:43:00.001-07:002014-08-15T14:43:50.087-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is a recent painting by my trio mate Bill Kolacek (center)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4K38V4rXWS2KKw78wAfQLBKfzo-d6xEDUIkHDoVyGCOgRFkjkSbc5YdRZ7pxZOgW6QeHTSwsGwi5f4yVRmsrjE9TGxngX-AzoSB0GgLgvRmgyQq7rT1kSLUc7VT7I-Mi24hFgw/s1600/Scan+141980000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4K38V4rXWS2KKw78wAfQLBKfzo-d6xEDUIkHDoVyGCOgRFkjkSbc5YdRZ7pxZOgW6QeHTSwsGwi5f4yVRmsrjE9TGxngX-AzoSB0GgLgvRmgyQq7rT1kSLUc7VT7I-Mi24hFgw/s1600/Scan+141980000.jpg" height="262" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-37552760392560315072014-03-16T08:53:00.000-07:002014-03-16T16:53:06.338-07:00The BanjitarI have more than a couple friends who play banjo. Over the years I have teamed up with several musicians to commit the misdemeanor crime of folk music. It all started back with the inspiration for this blog, The Whitsuntide Trio. Len Dwelle, myself, and Bill Kolacek.<br />
<br />
One of the primary reasons I started these musings was to reconnect with these long lost friends and others who were part of various iterations of the group, beyond the first two trio configurations. The first former member to be unearthed through the wonders of the Internet was Marssie Mencotti, our extremely talented songstress. She quickly informed me that she had remained in touch with Lenny over all these years. I was ecstatic!<br />
<br />
After reconnecting with Lenny, and re-uniting with Marssie and him in North Carolina for a few days, my focus then narrowed to Bill. He wasn't hard to locate through some old grammar school friends, but contact was slow to develop as Bill (like me) lives a fairly low-key backwoods lifestyle. OK, he's a modern day hermit. Nevertheless my friend Wayne Fuhlbrugge (one of the previously mentioned banjo players) and I met up with Bill in the hills of southwestern Illinois for what turned out to be a fond re-kindling of friendships born long ago in 7th grade!<br />
<br />
During that delightfully long afternoon of singing, beer drinking, and story telling Bill gifted me his banjitar. I had never heard of this instrument, much less seen or played one. A banjo body with a six string guitar tuned neck! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIt_xhqN2pTmRuia_nDclA6eYSuk1jcx9GpNBmgImlQFPjPQUs8DgFBxZE27IeKT4mjr5QgS32ASArCBolJXTeQwdXiMYyDFSxFX5j7DpdyoLYI8d3dS7QKEZufSlMNvJfGmaUg/s1600/Mastercraft+Banjitar+003_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIt_xhqN2pTmRuia_nDclA6eYSuk1jcx9GpNBmgImlQFPjPQUs8DgFBxZE27IeKT4mjr5QgS32ASArCBolJXTeQwdXiMYyDFSxFX5j7DpdyoLYI8d3dS7QKEZufSlMNvJfGmaUg/s1600/Mastercraft+Banjitar+003_edited-1.JPG" height="320" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
I have never fully accepted this way too generous gift, instead considering myself a custodian of this beauty. And while I can't play it banjo style frailing, I can get that unique banjo sound playing guitar chords. It is particularly conducive on Irish songs like "Whiskey In The Jar" or "The Patriot Game", I have plunked out this St. Patrick's day weekend. Thank you Bill for the banjitar, but more importantly your enduring friendship...Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-46948989036771374032013-03-29T11:12:00.001-07:002016-12-29T18:45:53.576-08:00This Old Guitar...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is my 1967 Gibson J-50 that I bought new. We have been together now for 50 years! We have both been through a lot over time. Certainly the guitar has aged much better than I. But for a couple of years this guitar was in 2 pieces. The good folks at Spruce Tree Music in Madison WI repaired the severed head stock and now it's as good (or better) than new. Besides my teddy bear I can't think of any possession I have had longer than this beauty. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiO5LkJ2fhiqrsTk7M9Fs11NVsj2mflgJofMFAKCH3GjdgTbJf-bH4EC_f0o2budym6TBGu0AwcqmZYqcEd1YiziPmhobo7ijmg4c36n4z82gEwZDaoT8bHAbvNQNoEYrvy49dw/s1600/10811_4375749804129_2065989218_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiO5LkJ2fhiqrsTk7M9Fs11NVsj2mflgJofMFAKCH3GjdgTbJf-bH4EC_f0o2budym6TBGu0AwcqmZYqcEd1YiziPmhobo7ijmg4c36n4z82gEwZDaoT8bHAbvNQNoEYrvy49dw/s320/10811_4375749804129_2065989218_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-25394112029459068032011-03-13T15:16:00.000-07:002021-05-24T13:42:18.588-07:00Waylon Jennings (and me)This is a re-post about a LONG night hanging out with Waylon Jennings. I'm guessing it was 1969 or '70. I was living at the DeVille Motor Inn by O'Hare Airport in Chicago where I was employed as a life guard. My job at the pool to keep airline stewardesses from drowning, or worse yet...meeting Don Chapman. He was a DJ at WJJD radio, the top country station in the market at the time. Don Chapman was a fun-loving guy, who could drink gin in the morning, right after his #1 listened to show (from 6am to 9am) was over. Sometimes he would bring a Styrofoam barrel shaped cooler out to the pool filled with gin and tonic. He would lay on a lounge chair and occasionally tap "the pig" as it became affectionately known. I liked Don a lot and we became friends and eventually roommates.
He also was half owner of a roadhouse type country music bar called The Rock'in Horse in Stone Park. It was a sprawling basement saloon under a strip mall that feature "name" entertainment on weekends. One Saturday night Waylon Jennings was playing, and we arrived early to greet him and have a few pre-show beverages. After getting acquainted, Don and I sat down at a front row table for a dynamite two set show that went past 1AM in the morning. After the music stopped and the drunken crowd stumbled out, we sat down with Waylon to count out the gate and pay the band.
Don keep the bar open and we drank some MORE, then Waylon proceeded to put large amounts of pharmaceuticals on the table for general consumption. I recall we pounded beer with the waitresses and talked smart until the help started stacking chairs on tables and threw us out. The band had long since retired to the tour bus parked in the lot.
Back then Waylon wasn't the star he became a few short years later, but he was a great guy to get drunk with and a hell of a nice fella. Now he's in the Country Music Hall of Fame and I consider myself fortunate enough to have met him (but what a hangover). <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTguOojNcGHB5l7iP7HOuKsgvZJ1LrnSfJvpUURb60YjWI7QhZtxw9i0-_t8xSC3cWF96D7_HC1Oto_P2-xrPRjTSNtou1C_CbJRLalCfGqpNIA26eEV9B0UgNmBzHCKNRmH0iQ/s1274/20464730_836106453232231_1122541999_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTguOojNcGHB5l7iP7HOuKsgvZJ1LrnSfJvpUURb60YjWI7QhZtxw9i0-_t8xSC3cWF96D7_HC1Oto_P2-xrPRjTSNtou1C_CbJRLalCfGqpNIA26eEV9B0UgNmBzHCKNRmH0iQ/s320/20464730_836106453232231_1122541999_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-60101234438567545232011-02-28T13:30:00.000-08:002011-02-28T13:31:18.113-08:00Peter Yarrow, me, and 70,000 of our closest friends sing "Blowin' in the Wind"This past Saturday I drove a hundred miles to Madison, WI to march, protest, rally, and sing. And I got to sing this song with Peter Yarrow on the steps of the Capital. We sang <span style="font-style:italic;">"Who's Side Are You On"</span> and a few others. One wonderful experience...<br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/taGkIjRPyw4?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-41170931941596566522011-02-16T16:05:00.000-08:002011-02-16T16:10:20.672-08:00Beer, Banjos, Babes, and Blotter Acid...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQznCreuXFc1klRGNsIPB-C76Fxd9u_Y0p71TCUv6TLy9r5b2CIVitLjPctmQscMRU4fsCu60g0rZnwVMxNO_eVFGYmFRycrXiSaeche0YNXEqxbyEQqA4Cpw5hNWVZqzTSFNhQ/s1600/186885_1599604661_3107743_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQznCreuXFc1klRGNsIPB-C76Fxd9u_Y0p71TCUv6TLy9r5b2CIVitLjPctmQscMRU4fsCu60g0rZnwVMxNO_eVFGYmFRycrXiSaeche0YNXEqxbyEQqA4Cpw5hNWVZqzTSFNhQ/s400/186885_1599604661_3107743_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574443131407994594" /></a><br /><br /><br />They say if you can remember the sixties, you weren't there! After I left the Whitsuntide Singers I fell in with a bunch of no-account hippies. My best friend from grammar school, Wayne had just returned from the army and had brought back a Framus Banjo he had purchased at a PX in Germany. He also brought back some of Timothy Leary's "best". I was about to enter the world of sex, drugs and rock & roll. Well folk-rock anyway...<br /><br />Now mind you, this nice Irish Catholic boy had never had anything stronger than Blatz beer, when my best friend dropped that little piece of paper into my Orange Crush soda at the Yogi Bear Chicken restaurant. My oh my...Anyway, so for a few years I searched for the meaning of life (which I don't have time to explain right now).<br /><br />During this time warp I made many wondrous, need I say unforgettable friends (and lovers). But alas, one day I stepped into a steaming pile of something akin to responsibility. And I hate when that happens. It got worse! Next thing I knew there were steady jobs and semi-permanent relationships...Yuck! I had lost my immoral compass.<br /><br />Guitar playing suffered the most (as if it weren't hurting already). My shallow musical skills digressed to a point where I only had a three song repertoire. <span style="font-style:italic;">Bull Shipping Time in Nebraska, Charlotte The Harlot, and The Good Ship Venus. </span>Then the flashbacks started...KIDDING. No what really happened was I got up one day, looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the old guy looking back at me. Then I realized that...it was all good! My skin fit and somehow I had wiggled through six decades with the help of friends, family, a soul mate and of course a bunch of four-leggers. Someday I'll write my memoirs, I just can't show all the pictures...Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-89534200484008616912010-09-10T09:05:00.000-07:002010-09-10T09:07:04.519-07:00STEVE GILLETTE & CINDY MANGSEN COMING TO WAUTOMA!Well, this Saturday Central Wisconsin is again blessed with great folk music. The Rising Star Mill hosts Claudia Schmidt and the Blackhawk Folk society features Steve Gillette & Cindy Mangsen, along with the Berrymans. I have loved Steve Gillette's singing/songwriting since his first Vanguard album back in the 60's. I've luckily seen him several times over the past few years. Here he is doing his most covered composition <span style="font-style:italic;">Darcy Farrow<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hJkB-dBj-HY?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hJkB-dBj-HY?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-72581518511002521572010-08-06T12:11:00.000-07:002010-08-06T12:11:14.639-07:00Claudia Russell and the Folk Unlimited OrchestraLast evening I drove over to Green Bay to see my good friends Claudia, Bruce, and Mark play a concert at the Botanical Gardens. It was a magical setting for a terrific show. There was a wonderful crowd of about 200-300 people, none of whom had ever seen her before. Claudia's soul hangs on the sleeve of every song she sings. From my vantage point in a gazeebo (that we used as the "green room") I watched a sea of smiling faces, of a totally engaged audience, absorbed in the moment and the music. Towards dusk the mosquitoes came out as the Folk unlimited Orchestra finished their second set. A few friends were going out with the band to a Mexican Restaurant, but with night falling I reluctantly hit the highway for the 2 hour trip home. But I'm sure glad I went! <br /><br /><br /><object style="background-image:url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/6LGX7gBv81E/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6LGX7gBv81E&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6LGX7gBv81E&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-45940677088185136662010-07-13T13:03:00.000-07:002010-07-14T06:34:30.557-07:00Off To See Joan Baez!I've been blessed (or lucky) to have seen most every great performer from the 60's folk revival live...save one, that would be Joan Baez. When I found out I had a business trip to Bayfield Wisconsin up on Lake Superior I immediately thought to check out the schedule for Big Top Chautauqua. Yup, Joannie on a Thursday night! With the Big Blue Tent almost sold out I quickly purchased my single seat ticket, and am off to see a legend up in God's country. Here she is singing one of my favorite songs of hers'. <br /><br /><br /><br /><object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/GGMHSbcd_qI/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GGMHSbcd_qI&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GGMHSbcd_qI&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-72073367199608924412010-07-09T09:20:00.000-07:002010-07-09T09:20:06.229-07:00Small Potatoes Tomorrow!The first time I saw <strong><em>Small Potatoes </em></strong>was a mistake. I had bought tickets for Claudia Schmidt and read the date wrong and showed up a week early. We were with friends and didn't know what to do... ask for a refund or stay. At that point an attractive, smallish woman approached us and convinced us to stay. She said if we didn't like the show we could have or money back! We went into the auditorium and sat down. Small Potatoes took the stage and yes..."that" woman turned out to be Jacque Manning, one half of the group. It was a terrific concert moving the audience as one from laughter to tears. We have seen them every time they come to the area, and tomorrow again at the Blackhawk Folk Festival. Here is their touching performance of <strong><em>1000 Candles, 1000 Crains </em></strong><br /><object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/_INemxKjMZs/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_INemxKjMZs&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_INemxKjMZs&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20350911.post-1065772848547318072010-07-07T13:10:00.000-07:002010-07-07T13:10:08.439-07:00John Stewart - Mother Country - April 2007My favorite singer/songwriter doing his powerful "Mother Country". I miss that man...<br /><br /><object style="background-image:url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/yWwayDfJtkE/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yWwayDfJtkE&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yWwayDfJtkE&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14529851824178363561noreply@blogger.com0