Old Friends

It's been a friendly week. Monday, an old college buddy arrived from South Africa, via Minneapolis, with her husband and as-yet-unborn son. That of course occassioned a mini-reunion of the UD Class of '91.

And even though not all of our lives have been unalloyed joy over the past nearly two decades, reconnecting was.

Wednesday, I drove to Austin and spent time with Patrick, and my sister, and met Jesse Sublett for coffee and Jon Dee for music; at the Continental Club I ran into more old friends.

Last night, Danny Paschall and his lovely partner Lindsey landed on our doorstep and we all drove down to Greenville for a Bob Schneider show, where we hung out with yet more old friends.

"Old," is, of course, relative. I've known Angela since 1972, and I'm so proud to call her a friend today. Carrie and I enjoyed (and I do mean enjoyed) our first date in 1984. Danny and I have adventured together in nearly a dozen different countries over the past ... gosh, 14 years now? We still can sit and talk until 5 a.m.

I've known Shannon and Il Duplicates more than half my life.

Other friends are of more recent vintage, but I have a feeling they'll stick: Sweet, stylish, smart Molly, for instance. She soldiered through the Jon Dee show Wed. and will be our houseguest next weekend. And Hermann, and not just because he's part and parcel of the Shannon experience.

One thing I've learned over the past four decades is that true friendship takes time, and it takes work, and because of that I've grown ever more discriminating in whom I attempt that with.

It might just be laziness.

But old friends, the ones with whom a connection -- 20 years or two years in the making -- is true and strong, make that work a pleasure.

And for that, today, I'm very grateful.

William Butler Yeats wrote this:

Though you are in your shining days,
Voices among the crowd
And new friends busy with your praise,
Be not unkind or proud,
But think about old friends the most:
Time's bitter flood will rise,
Your beauty perish and be lost
For all eyes but these eyes.

Music and more

The summer sure has flown by. Tam and I returned last week from a six-day Pacific Northwest tour, which she has written about for RoadTripAmerica.com (look for the article next weekend).

I'll post a blog about it shortly. School starts for Austin kiddos next week ... Patrick's looking forward to the 4th grade after discovering a couple of his best friends will be in his class this year.

The words around Abilene Trail this month are moths and snakes.

As many of you may know, my all-time favorite songwriter and friend Jon Dee Graham (site, MySpace) was involved in a terrible car accident at the end of July. Word is he's recovering well, if painfully, and he'll be back at the Continental Club this coming Wednesday. Come on out and show your love -- it should be a great show.

It may, however, be a different show. One of the outcomes of the accident (other than huge hospital bills and the loss of Jon Dee's Volvo -- see Greg Garrett's blog entry if you'd like to help) is that Graham had his spleen removed.

Medically, it's sort of a big deal; but the body adapts and, in fact, there's a statistically significant number of folks walking around sans spleen. My concern is what it will mean for the man's songwriting and performances:

According to Wikipedia:

In French, spleen refers to a state of pensive sadness or melancholy ... In German, the word "spleen", pronounced as in English, refers to a persisting somewhat eccentric (but not quite lunatic) idea or habit of a person .... In modern English, "to vent one's spleen" means to vent one's anger, e.g. by shouting, and can be applied to both males and females; similarly, the English term "splenetic" is used to describe a person in a foul mood.

Jon Dee Graham without a spleen ... is it the end of the hugging booth? Come to the show and find out.

If you can't make it out to the Continental Club for the comeback show, there's always the next Wednesday, and the next ... and Saturday, Aug. 31, Jon Dee will play an 11 p.m. show at the Saxon Pub.

Last night, a happy hour drink with a colleague at my favorite neighborhood bar turned into a few drinks with friends Valerie Fremin (rock photographer: MySpace) and Will T. Massey (rock star: site, MySpace).

Bonus: we got to hear porterdavis (site, MySpace). I knew Mike Meadows (site, MySpace), the band's percussionist, from his gigs with Will T., but I'd never heard the whole band together. Wow. They're really great. A whole lot of sound from a box, some bells, a mouth harp and one six-string guitar.

Catch porterdavis at Tyler Junior College, 8 p.m., Aug. 26, at Schreiner University in Kerrville, 5 p.m. Aug. 27, at Lorraine's in Marble Falls Aug. 29 (9 p.m.), at the Corner Pub in Conroe Sept. 4 (9 p.m.), at the Blues Boot Camp in Dallas Sept. 27 ... and finally, back in Austin at the Saxon Oct. 11.

Speaking of Will T. Massey, his spanking-new album, Wayward Lady, comes out Sept. 9. It's a bold return to folk music roots with political and social commentary and comes with a pretty astonishing backstory.

James McMurtry (site, MySpace) may be pissed-off by what's going on in this country, Will T. is heartbroken. Catch the CD release shows at Flipnotics (Barton Springs Rd.) Sat., Sept. 6 at 11 p.m., at the Opening Bell in Dallas Sept. 13 or Threadgill's North in Austin Friday, Sept. 19.

For you Coastal Benders reading this, you should know that Austin's favorite redhead, Idgy Vaughn (site, MySpace), is playing the Third Coast Theater in Port A tonight with Will Sexton (Sexton also plays on Will T.'s new album). Show starts at 8 p.m., tickets are $15 (and worth it, in my opinion).

Then she's on the road for a while, with a stop in Rhode Island at the Common Fence Music Concert Series in Portsmouth Sept. 27. She plays Austin next Oct. 7 at Waterloo Icehouse, and Oct. 17 at the Cactus Cafe

Speaking of the Cactus Cafe, Ari Hest (site, MySpace) will be there Tues., Sept. 2; Guy Clark (site, MySpace) with Ramblin' Jack Elliott Sept. 18; Lil' Cap'n Travis (site) on the 19th and Jimmy LaFave (site, MySpace) Sept. 27. October brings Carrie Rodriguez (site, MySpace) back home for two nights, Oct. 23 and 24. Carrie has a new album out and it's pretty terrific.

David Wilcox (he had just landed his A&M recording deal when I booked him at UD's Rathskeller back in ... oh, 1989?) (site, MySpace) will be at the Cactus Oct. 29. Wilcox is playing some protest songs these days as well. To round-out the month there, Dar Williams (site, MySpace) and Shawn Mullins (site, MySpace) will play the Cactus Oct. 30. Finally, Nov. 8, Dah-Veed Garza (site, MySpace) plays two shows at the Cactus, 7:30 and 10 p.m. Phew!

Back at the Saxon on South Lamar, Matt the Electrician (site, MySpace) continues to play the 7 p.m. show Monday nights, ahead of Bob Schneider (site, MySpace). Tuesdays are Bruce Hughes (MySpace) at 10 p.m. with some edgy, world-class funk-inspired pop. Through August, the Band of Heathens (site) have been playing the 8 p.m. show at the Saxon, ahead of Bruce. It would be cool if that continues.

Speaking of Matt, he'll be playing the eighth Wyldwood show of the season with buddy Southpaw Jones (site, MySpace). Come on out and groove and laugh under the stars in Amy and Andrew's HUGE back yard. S'mores at intermission, kids welcome (and they get in free).

In the miscellaneous category, Martin Sexton (site, MySpace) will be at the Handlebar in Greenville, SC, Oct. 15, at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta Oct. 17 and at Antone's right here in Austin Oct. 19. He'll also be at Seattle's Town Hall Oct. 25.

The Mother Truckers (site, MySpace) are still burning up the road on their Let's All go to Bed tour. I bet Josh and Teal's dog, Ajax, really misses them. They'll be back in Austin at the Continental Club Oct. 4 and at Threadgill's Oct. 25. They'll be in Portland, Ore., at Berbati's Pan Nov. 21.

Finally, check out M&S Artist Development's free happy hour shows. Mark and Sarah rep Joel Guzman and Sarah Fox (site, MySpace), No Show Ponies (site, MySpace), Shawn Nelson (site, MySpace) and more.

That should be enough to keep everyone's ears happy for a while. I'm sure I'm missing some really good stuff, but I promise the shows mentioned here don't suck!

If you're not fortunate enough to live in Austin ... if you live, say, on the Olympic Peninsula but are planning to visit Austin soon, check out some of the links and get a preview of what you might hear when you get here.

Even if you're not planning on visiting Austin anytime soon, check the artists' individual schedules; Austin musicians travel, maybe they're coming to a venue near you.

Yeah, I know it's lame

That I haven't written anything here in ages ... been busy, ya know?

There are two new posts up at my other blog, Abilene Trail Chronicles, and scads of photos up at www.AaronReedPhoto.com, and I'm going paddling soon.

Really. I am.

JDG is AOK

Tam and I just got back from the "anniversary" show at The Continental Club. The Continental Club is always standing room only, but it was even more so tonight. Big crowd.

Loud crowd, in the back; I assume they also paid $10 cover to get in and hear Jon Dee and the Fighting Cocks return to the stage after a 3-month hiatus, but they must have forgotten why they were there.

Bastards.

Seriously, it ticks me off. I'm all for drinking beer and BSing with my buds ... just not at the same time other people are trying to listen to music.

I've written elsewhere that Jon Dee Graham wields his guitar like it's a part of his body, another appendage. It's more than that. He is so utterly confident, so completely in control of the instrument, it's something else entirely. Something powerful. He owns that guitar, and the stage he stands on. And any audience he plays in front of.

Except for the guys in the back, who won't shut up.

Andrew Duplantis is always a pleasure to watch and listen to. Sometimes, like when he's on tour with Son Volt, he's not on stage with Graham. Then we have the pleasure of watching and listening to Harmoni Kelley, star of Naked 2007.

It's always an amazing show. It's real rock and roll, the kind where the guys (and gal) on stage are having as much fun playing as the audience is listening and dancing. It's also thought-provoking, heart-warming ... and a lot of other hyphenated adjectives.

Graham has talked publicly about his longtime struggle with depression. Some of his songs are about that; about the human condition, really.

Mark Finkelpearl, the director and producer of the forthcoming DVD about JDG's life, personally gave me permission to use that YouTube video, below, by the way. Of course, that's why he uploaded it. He'd like lots and lots of folks to post it to their blogs.

If you haven't already, give Jon Dee Graham a listen. You won't regret it.

Odds and ends

Life is busy, busy, busy. Big changes in the offing on the homefront, seemingly ceaseless rain across the middle of the state (and accompanying busy-ness at work), lots of writing deadlines; I'd sure like to slow things down a bit.

Contrary to that deep-seated desire, I've been chatting back and forth with the editor of RoadTrip America about some brief web pieces. RTA pays comparatively well, I'll be roadtripping anyway, so ... why not?

One reason why not, or that gave me pause anyhow, is that web publishing demands some level of exclusivity; RTA likes all electronic rights in perpetuity. We've negotiated 12 months on text, 6 months on photos. So while I'd really like to write here about a fun road trip out to Menard, the 1750s Spanish acequia there and an adventure at the London crossing of the Llano River ... I can't. But look for it at RTA next month.

The good news that comes with all the rain across the state this spring is that the aquifers are full, the rivers and streams are full, and it should be a good paddling summer. It's a big change after a couple of drought years; in fact, right now there's too much water in some of the rivers I plan on including in the Falcon book.

My editors liked the sample material I sent, by the way, so I'm feeling more confident about being on the right track with that.

On the coastal paddling front, the long July 4 weekend will see me stroking north from Padre Island National Seashore to Rockport, my hometown. Tam's going to give coastal paddling a try, says if she doesn't like it she'll catch some rays on the beach and pick me up at the take-out.

The next weekend I'll paddle on up to Seadrift. Like much of the middle and upper coast, here redfish, trout and flounder will be on the fishing menu. But around Corpus Christi and Port Aransas, I'll also get a few shots at tarpon and snook and that's a pleasant prospect.

Patrick's been having a ball with his cousin Chris and their Grammi and Papa. Longview -- berry picking and the Texas State Railroad; Austin -- Children's Museum and gellato and some Daddy time; Ingleside -- beach today, fishing with Uncle John tomorrow and some more Daddy time this weekend ... it all reminds me of the kind of summers I had as a kid.

Did an in-studio interview about boating safety with Bryan Beck at KGSR-FM this morning, and was reminded that Austin really is a great music town. Stumbled across "My Baby Now," by Bruce Robison, earlier in the week. Good stuff, and ... well, I find it calming.

And while I'm making recommendations, check out Love Warps the Mind a Little by John Dufresne. I'm reading it again, a second run-through within 12 months, and it's lovely in about a dozen different ways.

The Perfect Weekend

In his gripping, true, tale, The Perfect Storm, Sebastian Junger describes a combination of meteorological phenomena that came together in a way so rare as to create the type of storm seen only once a century, if that.

Thankfully, my perfect weekends lately come more frequently -- if not entirely routinely -- but they also rely on a combination of disparate elements that, together, create something rare.

And unlike the storm that swallowed the Andrea Gail, my perfect weekends are things of great joy. Take this past weekend, for instance.

It included an easy Friday-night dinner date with the adult I most like to spend time with. It was the perfect conclusion to a long work week.

Saturday, we paddled eight miles of the upper Guadalupe River with friends -- work, because it will be one of the stream segments profiled in Paddling Texas -- but the kind of work I'll take any old day. It's one of those perfect second jobs you hear about.

Saturday night it was off to Kerrville for a house concert at the home of cousins Paula and Marty. Bonnie Bishop put on a great show and I'm completely sold on house concerts as opportunities to hear live music. People actually listen!

Plus, Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bob were there, as were cousins Ray and Jordan ... good beer flowed freely and the food was great. Perfect.

Sunday, after a leisurely breakfast featuring the time-honored family recipe, "Snappy Eggs," Tam and I headed out for a Sunday drive.

Initially, I just wanted to see the Hill Country folding in on itself in the mist along the edges of Texas 16 west of Kerrville. From the top of the hill down to Kinky Friendman's Echo Hill Ranch is my favorite part of my favorite drive in the state. And it was beautiful. Perfect, even.

Since we were already there, we stopped at the first Hwy. 16 crossing of the crystal-clear Medina River.

I caught a beautiful 15-inch bass and a couple of sunnies, and Tamara caught two smallmouth bass -- her first. Honestly, we could have stopped right there and it would have been a perfect day.

But we kept going.

At Lost Maples State Natural Area, we hiked through a light rain up to the ponds on Can Creek and fished a little more.

On the way up, we spied a white-lined sphinx moth -- the so-called "hummingbird" moth -- sipping nectar from purple Prairie verbena along the edge of the trail.

Uncle Bob, not a dozen hours before, had described this intriguing little insect (he had seen it in Colorado) as we watched the hummingbirds at the feeders on Paula and Marty's porch. Perfect timing.

On the way back down, we watched for a while an unafraid Scrub jay go about its business, and then saw the jewel-like Indigo bunting on a feeder near the parking lot.

One bird I hadn't seen before, and one I hadn't seen in a very long time. Perfect.

Later, unwinding after the long road trip, I heard an Eastern screech owl trilling its "A" song over Bull Creek. What a lovely night sound, especially with a chorus of frogs in accompaniment. It was kind of the perfect end to a perfect weekend.

Sweet, live water with kayaks above and fish below; glimpses of nature's glory, primarily in blue -- blossoms and feathers; music, soulful and fresh and not 15 feet in front of me; catching up with family -- people I've known, and liked, literally all my life; the company of someone I've met only recently, a beautiful woman I'm proud to call my friend ... these are some of the things that, together, can make for a perfect weekend.

[About the photos: Happy paddlers on the upper Guadalupe River; me, with a Guadalupe bass-Smallmouth bass hybrid; Tamara in front of a spring falling into the Guadalupe; a white-lined sphinx moth sipping nectar from Prairie verbena; raindrops caught in a spider web; Blue-eyed grass, a member of the iris family.]

Driving

I do a lot of it. Never been one to let a couple hundred miles of asphalt stand between me and ... whatever.

And really I don't mind. It's good thinkin' time, and sometimes I see some interesting stuff and I get to know my CDs really well. I'll come back to all of these things in due course.

It's 187 miles from my front door to the center of Rockport (my hometown) via U.S. Hwy 183, Texas 239 and Texas 35. I've done it so many times it's as if my car's on rails. Lockhart-Luling-Gonzales-Cuero-Goliad-Tivoli ....

Saturday I drove south to spend some time with my friend Kendal. He'd had a lousy week, I'd had a lousy week ... he has a fully stocked bar and satellite TV and lives right on the water. We figured that, somehow, some combination of those things would improve our collective mood.

On the way down, I got to thinking about the things I've figured-out all on my own while driving. Sadly, it's a pretty short list, but feel free to marvel at my, uh ... powers of observation. Or something:

• Highway maintenance contracts are awarded by county. Notice: most often, when you cross a county line, the road surface changes. It's the only explanation I can come up with.
  
• There's no such thing as a "canola." Canola cooking oil is actually made from rapeseed, not a marketing-friendly plant.
  
• When someone gives you two reasons for disappointing you, it's usually really only one or the other ... or maybe a third reason entirely that you're not hearing.
  
• Goats' tails point up, sheep's tails point down.
  
• Old roads follow even older tracks; US 183, for instance, follows the path of the old Indianola-Bexar stagecoach route for a good part of its length in the southern part of the state. That's why old roads are so winding and interesting. New roads, like IH-35, were surveyed with the express intent of getting from Point A (Laredo) to Point B (Detroit?) in the most efficient manner. That's why new roads are so straight and boring. (okay, I actually had some help with this one from an historical marker)
  
• The outside heel of my left shoe is always the first thing to get worn down because I walk funny. I mean, I must walk funny, right?
  
• If you mostly throw just one type of lure, that's going to be your most productive lure. A corollary is that if you stop fishing after you catch a fish, you will have caught that fish on your "last cast." Fishermen like to say: "I caught that big sucker on my last cast," like -- "what luck!" -- what luck indeed.
  
• Vodka tonics are not effective aids to weight loss. I used to think they were, but then I figured out that really it was all the dancing I was doing along with the drinking. This, by the way, is an excellent example of using science in everyday life. A dozen vodka tonics per night + six hours of salsa x 20 nights = weight loss. A dozen vodka tonics and no dancing = weight gain. It's all about adding and subtracting variables. Either way, though, you're pretty well protected from malaria.
  
• The sun and the moon, when close to the horizon, appear so large because ... oh hell, I haven't figured this one out yet. The question is: why do the sun and the moon on the horizon appear so large, yet appear so small higher up in the sky? You can test this by looking at that big ol' orange moon as it rises, then taking a photo with a lens equivalent to about 50mm, and compare. It looks nothing like what you see with your naked eye. This is apparently an abiding mystery, and I'm not the only one still wondering. Seriously. Theories have ranged from atmospheric distortion (greater magnification by looking at the distant object through more or thicker atmosphere) to an optical illusion caused by one's mind comparing objects (like trees or buildings) of a known distance and size to an object (like the moon) of an unknown distance and size.

The astronomical body on the horizon question leads me to things I've pondered while driving but have yet to understand. For instance:

• Why the hell do so many trucks in Texas have "FISH" emblazoned on the trailers? This applies to refrigerated 18-wheelers and fish farm stocking tanks alike. I've actually asked TxDoT about this and they don't know. I understand HAZMAT placards ("Hey, this sucker could explode."), but ... fish?
  
• If synthetic materials (like polyester and polyethylene -- Nylon and bowling balls) are made from oil, what is "synthetic oil" made from?
  
• Is there an afterlife?

Some things just aren't observable. Or easily testable.

----------

Of all the cool things I spy while driving, birds usually top the list.

• It ocurred to me this weekend that vultures really are disgusting creatures. I know they fill an important niche in the ecosystem, but I'd like them a lot more if they'd draw the line at skunks. They're amazingly engineered, though. Did you know a vulture's vent is positioned so that it shits on its own feet? Vulture shit, as you might imagine, is pretty caustic stuff; so caustic, it kills the bacteria the birds pick up by wading around in dead stuff.
• I saw another pair of marsh hawks this weekend. The males are a very distinctive gray, and both males and females have white rumps. Unlike other hawks that soar or perch for a "birds-eye" view, harriers (properly, these birds are "Northern harriers") often hunt in pairs by gliding just feet over the ground. I frequently catch sight of a pair or more on Texas 239 between Goliad and Tivoli. I'm actually not much good at identifying raptors, and I saw several others; an American kestrel perched on a power line was the only other species I could identify for sure.
• I often see Rio Grande turkeys on this stretch of road as well, and sometimes geese this time of year. This trip the only large game birds I saw were sandhill cranes flying low in a ragged vee. They're impressively large animals with a distinctive, honking call that always puts me in mind of a brisk, north wind.
• I saw a couple of Belted kingfishers between Rockport and Aransas Pass. They habitually perch on the old telephone wires near the DeGussa refinery. While not exactly uncommon, kingfishers always get my attention in a way that seagulls, pelicans and whistling ducks don't. But I did see scores of those, too.

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Typically, when driving to Rockport, I can pick up The World's Best Radio Station (KTXN-98.7 FM, they stream at http://www.texasmix.com/) south of Gonzales. I usually listen all the way into town.

This trip, though, I kept cycling Jon Dee Graham through the CD changer. Partly because it fit my mood, partly because I'd seen him play at the Saxon Pub the night before, partly because I can be a little bit obsessive .... mostly because it's just really, really good stuff.

I've often found my favorite music at the intersection of my experience and the songwriter's sentiment; somewhere just north of blues, south of hard rock and a little east of country.

This is no great Eureka! discovery; plenty of other people already know about this guy, but his music is new to me and it just bowls me right over.

Thoughtful, wry, hopeful, a little heartbreaking sometimes, outright funny others, Jon Dee's songs are mostly about standing somewhere in the middle of your years and checking the traffic in both directions.

My favorite tracks so far, from Full, his most recent CD:

• "Swept Away" (Jon Dee said in an interview he considers Mexico his "spiritual home." It's my ancestral home, and I've ... well, I've actually sorta done the swept away thing. Once.);
  
• "Holes" I haven't quite parsed yet, but I keep going back to it;
  
• "Remain" (my sis and her heck-of-a-good-guy boyfriend of seven years really needed to hear this one Friday night. Glad they were there.); and
  
• "Beloved Garden" (a retelling of Genesis, Chapter 3 ... didn't really expect to like this one, but it's a great song).

The title track from The Great Battle rocks.

• "Robot Moving" continues the meditation on ... well, just keepin' on, I think, and includes one of my favorite lines from the CD: Everybody says put one foot in front of the other/'Course the irony is that's the only way feet work/What luck/Now what am I supposed to do about that?

Anyhow, check him out.

Jon Dee plays most Wednesdays at the Continental Club, usually on a double bill with James McMurtry. You can catch him at the Saxon Pub about once a month with his band, and every Sunday there with The Resentments. I think all of the songs on his MySpace page are from The Great Battle, but his Web site (http://www.jondeegraham.com/) includes samples from Full.

That's it, man. All I got today.

My links ...

Okay, people; click on a link every once-in-a-while. Please. I don't get paid for them.

The linkees didn't ask to be linked ... in fact, some of them may be horrified to find out they are unwittingly associated with me.

First of all, the "TexasMix" link -- KTXN-FM out of Victoria, Texas -- really will take you to the best radio station on the planet. It's some sort of genius format only they can do: Larry Joe Taylor and Brian Burns segue to Van Morrison and Dave Matthews Band which leads right into Willie Nelson and Lyle Lovett with a little Jimmy Buffett thrown-in to keep the Parrotheads happy.

KTXN plays more Austin musicians (Darden, Bob, Marcia, Trish, etc.) than any station in Austin. Check it out.

Okay ... reviewing my links, there are some you can actually safely skip, unless you're shopping for a new kayak or you want a fishing report. But check out Radio Lab: those folks produce some really interesting shows. And Ira Glass and This American Life -- freakin' hilarious stuff.

Oh, and visit Hornetbear's Haus o'Anglin'. He posts some great photos, and he's pretty damned funny. Too cool to e-mail me back, apparently, but what the hell ...

I'm not even going to make this easy for you by linking the sites in this post. You're gonna have to make the trek over to the right side of the page here and do it yourself. Go. Now.