Archaeological News

Nile shipwreck discovery proves Herodotus right – after 2,469 years

Greek historian’s description of ‘baris’ vessel vindicated by archaeologists at sunken city of Thonis-Heraclion

Some Recent, and Obtuse, Jack Kerouac References

If you're a reporter journalist, when in doubt, Kerouac out.

Have to write an obit of a perfectly ordinary local musician?  Kerouac that thang:
Asa Brebner, at 65; guitarist/songwriter in Boston bands and alone

He was known for an astonishing range of music, from roots-rock and punk to R&B and gospel, along with an edgy, Jack Kerouac-meets-Charles Bukowski* wit that “did not suffer fools gladly,” said longtime bandmate John Pfister.

Have to write a review of a tedious one-woman show that is, for some reason, supported by your publisher?  It's Kerouac time:

Work is a four-letter word in Claudia Shear’s 'Blown Sideways Through Life'

Under Pam Wiley’s snappy direction, Carrie McQueen delivers a spirited, R-rated, syncopated and rapid-fire performance. Shear’s jazzy language owes a debt to Jack Kerouac and other beat writers.

Have to write...something...about this year's [so far] most peculiar contender for the Democratic nomination?  There is only one way to go, and that's Kerouac:

Ladies, we need to talk about Beto

Beto spent the better part of the winter musing on his Medium account about the vicissitudes of life like a discount Jack Kerouac, only to emerge from his period " adrift" to announce that he's in fact running for vice president.

Rubin: Beto O'Rourke: Savior or slacker?

"Jack Kerouac-style, he roams around, jobless (does he not need a job?) to find himself and figure out if he wants to lead the free world," Nia-Malika Henderson wrote at CNN in January, during what she called Beto O'Rourke's "excellent adventure." "This is a luxury no woman or even minority in politics could ever have.'"

Beto and the White House

There was hope among Democratic partisans that after Mr. O’Rourke ended his impersonation of Jack Kerouac he would challenge John Cornyn, the other Republican senator, next year. But he dreams bigger than that. Instead, as he revealed last week, he would try to turn an unimpressive three terms as an obscure congressman into a run for the presidency. Mr. O’Rourke’s rollout was accompanied by a profile in Vanity Fair, replete with an Annie Leibowitz photographic album.

 *I found myself wondering what was trying to be said about the deceased musician, as both Kerouac and Bukowski were notorious drunks.  It's not really a flattering comparison.

Lenten Wave #15

"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added. And that was true. I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs and gleams.... "What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well...." -Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1900-1944), The Little Prince

Three Guesses Where

Huge fish found washed up along the Coorong near mouth of the Murray River

[Hat tip to Steve.]

Lenten Wave #14

“The Word is living, being, spirit, all verdant greening, all creativity. This Word manifests itself in every creature.” ― Hildegard of Bingen

A Pungent Observation

With the addition of Robert Francis O'Rourke [who calls himself "Beto" at the suggestion of his father so that he would have some intersectional cache], there are now seven candidates for the Democratic nomination who have a personal net worth of over $10 million dollars.

When they start pranging on about income equality and how they will "fight" for the common person, keep in mind that may be a bit of fabulism.

By the way, if the recent article about O'Rourke in Vanity Fair seems familiar, check out an article in Men's Vogue about John Edwards that was written in 2003.  The two articles are by the same author and are so similar that he might be able to sue himself for plagiarism.

Lenten Wave for Today

"I believe because it is absurd." —Tertullian

As Long as It's Just a Rumor

NASA Rumoured To Be About To Probe Deeper Than Ever Into Uranus

Lenten Wave #12

The Lorica of St. Patrick

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

A Common and Ignoble Practice, as is Writing an Unnecessary Textbook and Requiring Your Students to Order It

pic.twitter.com/8xJhHyNtwg

— Horst von Horstmann (@Kaboom1776) March 16, 2019

This Didn't Make the News; It Should Have

Small Business Job Creation Breaks 45-year Record

Endorsed

I’m not giving up my pickup—and neither should you

Mr. Berk states that, “I am not the vehicle police. I don't believe in a nanny state,” and I believe he truly feels that way. His article suggests that regular people like you and me should simply know better than to consume the same amount of fuel or resources as our social and economic betters, in much the same way that the help on “Downton Abbey” instinctively stands when an aristocrat enters the room. How dare some unwashed prole from Ohio or Montana have the effrontery to purchase a 420-horsepower truck. Why, my good man, that’s two-thirds of the twist a Bentley Bentayga can produce—and the Chevrolet is barely 20 percent more fuel-efficient. What’s next, I ask? Allowing manual laborers to own property? Giving Catholics the vote?

Lenten Wave #11

"Seek not to understand that you may believe, but to believe that you may understand." —St. Augustine

The Coracle's Saturday Literary Corner: Popes

Popes in fiction: What do they say about us?

Welcome to the NYC Subway System. When you think you have seen it all.... pic.twitter.com/zEZSLQLq1u

— NYC Scanner (@NYScanner) March 15, 2019

From the Anglican Church of New Zealand's Book of Common Prayer

God of the present moment,
God who in Jesus stills the storm and soothes the frantic heart;
bring hope and courage to our brothers and sisters as they wait in uncertainty.
Bring hope that you will make them the equal of whatever lies ahead.
Bring them courage to endure what cannot be avoided, for your will is health and wholeness;
you are God, and we need you.

Lenten Wave #10

"The idea that an individual can find God is terribly self-centered. It is like a wave thinking it can find the sea." - Sir John Templeton

Carol Kaye

“When you hear somebody with [audacity], that’s me.”

I'm often asked why I became a priest.  When I was younger, and testing the vocation, it was a question that was part of the process as the "powers that be" were always very, very concerned that someone would be ordained "for the wrong reason".  [Given how those men and women who were the guardians of faith in my early career have all but destroyed the church, I'd like to re-visit their standards.  Oh, well, they let me in.  Eventually.]  Later in my career, the question would be asked with a different emphasis, as in "Why did you become a priest?"  I confess that I've never had a particularly compelling response, especially as it's a question I intend in asking the Almighty should I one day be granted an audience, mainly because I don't know the answer.

But no one asks me why I play the bass, which is a pity since I actually know the answer so well that I can trace it to a specific date and occasion.  It was February 27, 1966 and I was on the floor of my parents' living room watching the Ed Sullivan Show with my grandmother when some famous singer's daughter came on and sang a brief, rather ordinary song that featured a terrific bass line in its chorus.

"What's that instrument, Grandma?"
"Ah, Robbie, I think that's the bass fiddle.  Pity we can't see the musicians for this silly girl."
[I should note that my grandmother, who was seventy at the time, was quite a fan of The Beatles.]

Well, she was right about the instrument, although it was an electric solid body bass rather than a bass fiddle, and she was right about not being able to see the musicians, as those who provided the backing for the famous singer's daughter was a group of legendary, albeit invisible, studio musicians known informally as The Wrecking Crew.

"The Crew" were much in demand during the 1960's and backed performers as diverse as The Monkees, Bing Crosby, The Mamas & the Papas, The 5th Dimension, John Denver, The Beach Boys, Simon & Garfunkel, Neil Young, Nat King Cole, and many, many more.  As they only worked in the studio, they remained virtually unknown outside of the close community of musicians.  Only three of the forty-some who worked in this amorphous group ever developed successful solo careers: Leon Russell, Dr. John, and Glen Campbell.  To my knowledge, there was only one woman in The Wrecking Crew and that was Carol Kaye, the bassist who laid down that walking line that was the best thing about that mediocre song.

It wasn't just "Boots" that Kaye improved, though, as even a casual listener to the radio, or viewer of movies and television in the 1960's will have been exposed to her talent again and again.  In fact, even if the reader's knowledge of '60's pop music is nil, it is still likely that he or she has heard Kaye provide the bass line for the themes to the TV show Mission Impossible and other long-running shows like Mannix, MASH, Hogan's Heroes, Get Smart, Kojak, and, naturally, Hawaii Five-O.



TV work brought Kaye a steady income, but a bass can easily become lost in a brassy, busy TV score, or reduced, as in the Hogan's Heroes theme, to walking lines so routine and repetitive that they would numb the bassist's mind.  It was in the pop singles of the 1950's and 60's that Kaye's musicality provided the drive that defined what we think of when we recall the music of that era.  Remarkably, because of the role of studio musicians in those days, not only was her influence unnoticed, but her name and those of her colleagues tended to be left off of the songs' credits.

Kaye was the daughter of musician parents so, naturally, she grew up in poverty in Washington state. To help her family, she took up the guitar and started working as a busker and giving lessons.  This lead to work as a guitarist for a variety of bebop bands in the Los Angeles area at the time when the guitar was the least important instrument in the ensemble.  This brought her to the attention of Sam Cooke, who invited Kaye to be the guitarist in what would become her first popular recording.



When Leo Fender took pity on bassists, who often had to lug a massive instrument up and down narrow nightclub stairs and fit them into buses, cabs, and subway cars, and invented what was originally known as the highly portable, guitar-oriented Fender Electric Bass, many guitarists switched to the new instrument and decided to earn their living in those bottom notes.  Kaye was one of the first and it was on that instrument that she played in over 10,000 recording sessions.

While a complete list of Kaye's bass recordings may be found on the Internet, her favorite ten are "Boots" and "Summertime" linked to above, "Sloop John B" by the Beach Boys, Ray Charles' versions of "America the Beautiful" and "In the Heat of the Night", Glenn Campbell's "Wichita Lineman", Lou Rawls' "A Natural Man", Barbra Streisand's "The Way We Were" [yeah, I know], the Frank and Nancy Sinatra duet of "Something Stupid", and her fave, Joe Cocker's "Feelin' Alright".

So, a surf harmony classic, The Chairman of the Board, Barbra herself, the '60's favorite country twanger, and a gutter rocker.  That's quite a repertoire, isn't it?  It's also the mark of a true musician that whatever the croon, cocktail duet, soul ballad, or deconstructed 4/4 signature barn-burner, the person they had to have on bass was Carol Kaye and no one else.

I have to admit that my favorite of her's is the bass line on this one-hit wonder, and one that I still play along with in idle moments:




I'm also partial to her work on The Monkees' "I'm A Believer", but that's mainly because it was the first song I ever sang in public.



Carol Kaye still records from time to time, but mostly she manages to teach up-and-comers and give entertaining interviews about pop music's early days.  As she has written over a dozen instructional manuals with related CD's, her influence is still powerful and there is no bassist with whom I've played, spoken, or for whom I've made an instrument who has not given her due credit for encouraging their interest in the instrument and what it can do for music played in ensemble.  This is why she is now considered the #1 session player of her era.

Lenten Wave #9

"Being, for the religious person, is a gift, not a fact. It is through understanding this that we overcome our metaphysical loneliness" - Roger Scruton

Thursday's Place: The House of Swing

The House of Swing 

Mayfield Heights, Ohio

It was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that you can find in any city, although usually the discovery is accidental or coincidental.  Like the many, many other people who lived and worked on the east side of Cleveland, I had driven by the establishment many times and never noticed it.  It was, and I hope still is, in the most ordinary of buildings, shared with a beauty salon, a small bank branch, the office of some personal injury attorneys, and a McDonald's.  For a few years the sign out front was cracked and, if traveling east on Mayfield Road, unreadable.  It didn't really matter, though, as all of the aficionados knew where it was.

I learned of it from a colleague during my first year of teaching at a high school.  He lived not far from there and, one day when our faculty lounge conversation turned to jazz, invited me to hear his brother-in-law's band play there. 

"What's it called?", I asked.
"The House of Swing"
"Where is it?"
He smiled and said, "It's where jazz is king."

Lou Kallie was the owner/operator/bartender/disk jockey/master of ceremonies of the biggest of the small jazz clubs of the Mid-West.  In terms of floor space, I doubt that it made it much past 1000 square feet.  But, on live music Fridays and Saturdays, it would host as many people as it could hold [roughly two people for every square foot] and, for the young musicians of the area, it was the Cotton Club, Birdland, and the Aragon Ballroom all wrapped up as one.

 

Kallie was a jazz drummer who had worked with many of the small bands that toured the Midwest from Chicago to Cleveland, playing the ballrooms and small clubs in places like Detroit, Toledo, and Indianapolis. He once played with a big name orchestra. When tapping out the rhythm to "Tangerine" night after night got dull, he bought an old Irish bar, mostly to house his collection of jazz records and related accessories, installed a turntable, and opened the doors.

In addition to serving as the godfather of Cleveland-area jazz, Lou's most spectacular contribution was his record collection; in the late 70's it numbered somewhere around 15,000 volumes, all housed on shelving surrounding Lou's turntable in the center of what space was available between the storage area and the restrooms.  On the nights when there wasn't live music, Lou would sit from around from 5pm until 2am playing from his collection, looping together themes in the music selections that made sense only to him, and talking about jazz in all of its forms and styles to anyone who desired the conversation. 

There are two things for which I thank him.  First, he introduced me to the music of Art Pepper.  Second, he gave me the best advice ever about playing in a small club.

"When the power goes out, and it always does in those small places, just keep playing.  It'll come back on sooner or later and that way you won't have to drop any songs from your set." 

That latter bit of advice rescued me time and again during my playing days, and also served as the basis of a pretty good sermon.  Once, I think it saved me from being trampled in a small club fire.

Lou Kallie died suddenly in the mid-1990's at the age of 67.  His widow and son still run the House of Swing and still host live music and play Lou's record collection every night.  They probably feel they must, as Lou's ashes are sitting on a shelf behind the bar, as if making sure that everything is at it should be.

When my parents were still alive, and I'd make two or three annual visits to Cleveland, I would always stop by and make sure that The House was still there.  It was and, like a time capsule of syncopated rhythm, virtually unchanged.  It was still small, still cheap, still loaded with vinyl and turntables, and still impossibly hosted live music each and every week, all jammed into a space originally designed for inebriation and dark slouching.

After I moved to New York, and would play in more storied clubs, I invited a friend back to Cleveland with me and, naturally, had to take him to the Mecca of midwestern jazz about which I had spoken many times.  When we walked through the door and took the nearest stools, he looked around and said, "From what you described, I thought this would be a lot bigger."

It is, but only in imagination and inspiration.