Pharrell Williams is notable enough to have his own Wikipedia page. I checked. Ye gods, he’s won seven Grammys. That seems an awful lot for someone I never heard of. The Beatles only won eight. That’s not a typo. They won a “lifetime achievement” Grammy, too, so nine, depending on how you count them.
I have heard of The Beatles. They seem to have gotten much more mileage out of their meager stash of Grammys.
I don’t think very many people know how good The Fabulous Thunderbirds were. They’re like fellow Texans ZZ Top; they got crummy to get famous. But they were both primal, essential, and wildly influential at one time.
I wonder how many bar bands were launched by the first Thunderbirds record, Girls Go Wild. Of course, the name of the record was The Fabulous Thunderbirds, but it said “Girls Go Wild” on the front, and everyone got to calling it that, and when they re-issued it 21 years later, in 2000, they gave up and named it that.
I’ve read all sorts of stuff about that record. I’m not sure how much I remember accurately, but I think they just set up two boom mikes and blasted away like they were playing in a barroom. That’s the essence of roadhouse music, and it captured it perfectly. It’s supposed to be made right in front of you like bacon and eggs at four AM in a bad diner way after last call. If you’re expecting some sort of garnish, you’re in the wrong place.
I was never much of a musician. I did get to perform a lot, in a lot of different places, with a lot of different people. I played badly everywhere for anybody, from rent parties to places that had names that ended with Civic Center, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten as much of a thrill as I did that very first time I got on a bandstand the size of a kitchen table, with a neon sign buzzing next to my ear, in a blockhouse dive under a highway overpass going nowhere from noplace, razor wire on the fence outside, two-dollar cover, and blasted away at some Junior Wells song or another to the kind of flotsam and jetsam of humanity that would be interested in us on a Tuesday night in the rain. They clapped because they liked it, or maybe because it was over; I don’t know, and I didn’t care, either. I had entered another world, and it took me in like a brother when I desperately needed it.
Well, your favorite Homeschooled Pop Duo, Unorganized Hancock, is back treading the boards in Skowhegan, Maine this weekend. They’ve already played three jobs in Skowhegan. The town seems to like them. We like the town.
Skowhegan is very much like where we live now, but then again, it isn’t. They’re both the wreckage of mill towns trying to get up off the mat, but Skowhegan is doing a better job of it. They have a lively arts, commerce, restaurant, and public fetes scene that makes the town seem like it’s moving in the right direction. The citizens of Skowhegan have been very kind to my children. It’s the easiest way to get me to like you.
This Saturday, March 15th, The boys are headlining the Talent Show at the Skowhegan Opera House. Show starts at 7:00. The boys are playing two sets, almost an hour total. The Opera House is pretty big; it seats 850 people. I don’t think it will be full. Just a hunch, since there’s only about 849 people in Maine. Here’s a picture of the venue in the locul papah ah few ye-ahs back :
A pretty and intelligent friend of ours who lives on the wrong coast pointed out that the boys needed a sign. I know when I hear the truth spake. So my whole family went down to the workshop on Sunday, and we made a six-foot-tall Unorganized Trojan Billboard out of plywood and pine and housepaint. There’s an easel setup on the back, so it’s freestanding. We had lots of laughs doing it, and spent most of our time naming our new spokesman. Stretch McGillicuddy was my fave. Slim Chance was another. A-Flat Minor was another. You can take a stab at it in the comments if you like. The kids and I all took a run at the paint job, so to speak. Like all our work, we pride ourselves on the fact that we can do it faster than anyone that can do it better, and we can do it better than anyone that can do it faster.
So, here you go:
I’m told that the organizers of these events often refer to the boys YouTube channel to decide if they want to hire them. Bringing the third son might be a problem. But we can bring the cat, fer shure.
It’s been a very long winter. There’s glacial ice, covered with six feet of snow, in my yard. The calendar claims it’s March, but the calendar appears to be either illiterate or innumerate — or perhaps it’s a foreigner. The temperature still routinely drops below zero at night, and likewise struggles to begin with any number higher than “one” during the day, too. The sun comes up, looks ashamed of itself for a few minutes, and slinks back down below the horizon as fast as it can. The entire state of Maine, where I live, is almost out of firewood, pellets, and patience.
Me too. How about you?
So what’s a fella to do? Keep working, and trust in the promise of Spring. We might only have Spring for four hours, and those four hours might not appear until July, but sooner or later it has to show up, doesn’t it? I need to reset the tumblers on the year, and right now.
So let me be the first to plant the flag of rebirth in the snowbank at the end of the driveway where the plow driver really lets you have it: I’ve got a new website.
I’ve decided to offer a line of ready-to-ship, solid figured hardwood, heirloom quality furniture on its own website. Fastique.com is a portmanteau of FASt and anTIQUE. Of course if you don’t want to reach for your dictionary, the word portmanteau means “a gibberish word designed for the Intertunnel.”
Everything on Fastique.com is already made, so there’s no waiting around for it, except for the time it takes to put it in a box and ship it to you. I’ve partnered with Amazon Payments, too, so you can pay for your purchases by using your existing Amazon account information. My new website has a better picture viewer, more pictures of the items, and a real, live, shopping cart instead of plain old Buy Now buttons. But if you see something you like, you’ve got to buy it right away, because there’s only one of everything you see.
Same great quality we’ve always offered at Sippican Cottage Furniture, but no waiting. And to kick things off, everything is discounted, and ships for free. What’s not to like? Hmmm, what’s that smell? Smells like Spring. Let’s Dance!
SPANNERS by: Sippican Cottage
Sun’s beaming in the window, There’s rumbling from the floor, We’re rollicking and pulsing Boxes dancing out the door.
Oh how our muscles ripple, We’re making twenty knots, We’re alternating; current — We’re glowing with the watts.
Pounding down the corridors, With Bills of Lading, piled; Our output’s put the boss on ice We’re blowing out the dials.
They count the beans but can’t keep up, We’re cooking with the gas; Our arms are made from tempered steel, Our heart is made of brass.
That brass is rolled to make a tube, The tube is bent just so; And when we blow that trumpet, Jack, The girls get all aglow.
The whistle blows at five o’clock, It’s twenty-three skidoo; The guys and gals that made that stuff, Go out for dancing too.
They box the compass of the steps Then swing from chandeliers; They leave the clerks there in the lurch Then kick it up a gear.
They pound the floor into the ground, They swing and then they sway; They’d drink to all their troubles, But they’ve long since gone away.
They close the places late at night, And walk beneath the stars; Arm in arm, exchanging charms One’s Venus, one is Mars.
Mighty children spring from them, To keep the flame alight; They nurse them with acetylene, And ultra-violet light.
They grow some whiskers when they’re old, And sit down for a spell; Their Ercoles will take their place, And raise a little hell.
Joseph Anthony Jacobi Passalacqua, better know as Joe Pass.”He looks like somebody’s uncle, and plays like nobody’s business,” according to New York Magazine. We’ll let it rest there. Sometimes things are said properly right out of the gate, and require no filigree.
The cameraman has the distinctive traits so common to his tribe. He will point his lens at any goddamned thing but what you want him to. I half expected him to lay down on his back and point the camera at the ceiling for a spell, to forestall boredom. There appeared to be, by my watch, one-hundred-and-fourteen minutes of footage of Joe’s patent leather shoes in the middle of the proceedings. This is only meet, and just. They’re really nice shoes. First-rate. Joe’s wife has shined them, it’s evident. Joe keeps them in good repair. Joe is solicitous of his appearance in this regard. There was a chance — dare I call it what it was: a danger — that we would not have gotten a good, hard, stare at Joe’s footwear, had not the cameraman had the presence of mind to ignore Joe’s hands, and face, and torso, and uvula, and his guitar, and his aura, and his shakra, and various other trivial aspects of his performance and persona, in order to fill our desperate need to see Joe tapping his feet.
I have an award for that cameraman, which he could pick up if he comes within arm’s length of me.
Month: March 2014
sippicancottage
A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything.
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