A sample of some obscure – and some maybe not obscure – tunes from my strange and off-the-wall collection.
Today’s selection: Deep Purple's "Burn" cover 1974
Let me take you back to a Friday night in September 1974. A warm late summer evening. A pick-up college bar in a medium sized town in Michigan. Not really a dive bar ... but the decor was open-ceiling industrial flat black. The toilets - at least the men's version - were arranged for one purpose: getting rid of excessive amounts of cheap beer via various orifices. I'd find it hard to believe the women's version was much different - perhaps those in the audience with experience of such places might express their thoughts ... because - being a pick-up bar in a college town of the mid-70s - the girls fully participated in the fun.
Funny about all the dear, "I Love You, Man" friends I made there that were forgotten the next morning. Sometimes, I wish they had been forgotten the next morning. Sometimes, they wish I had been forgotten the next morning. Or the night before.
If I have child - unknown, unlikely, but possible - it would be about 50 years old now ...
Anyway, any respectable (I use the term loosely but several of you will understand) bar of that era and that place had live music, at least on the weekends. Ted Nugent was one of the performers here. That type of dive bar. Somewhat local boy. I recall one "concert" where he basically practiced his screeching and feedback (though I like a fair amount of Nugent's stuff, especially with Amboy Dukes - but this was after the Duke's time and before he went solo)
On this Friday night, I had permission from the bar and band to record the show. I like this cover of Burn but the band shall remain nameless per their request. I actually like this version better than Deep Purple's.
So - here you have a sample of Friday night bar music, 1974.
Today is considered Memorial Day because someone in 1968 decided that Federal employees should have a 3-day weekend (as well as all those other holidays now spent on Mondays). Memorial Day to me is still May 30 as originally intended.
But so be it - few even recall what Memorial Day represents other than "the beginning of (official) summer!"
Originally "Decoration Day" - a day to decorate the graves of Civil War soldiers, the holiday was recognized by all states by 1890. After the world wars, it became a day to remember all soldiers who died in war.
"You bet I'm goin' to be a soldier, too, like my Uncle David, when I grow up." - 1900
Congress changed the date from May 30 to the last Monday in May in 1968 (during the height of Vietnam and LBJ) and formalized the change of name to "Memorial Day" in 1971.
The VFW declared:
"Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed a lot to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day."
My family has been tremendously lucky in times of war: direct ancestors on both sides of the American Revolution survived hale and hearty. None in the War of 1812 or Mexican War. All survived the Civil War (both sides). None in the Indian Wars or Spanish War. All survived WWI (with injuries), WWII, Korea (with injuries), and Vietnam. None in anything later ... counting direct line and out to 1st cousins of each. One distant relative survived Little Big Horn, another survived the Spanish War ... neither being close enough to consider "related" (Though I have one "relative" whose most recent common ancestor was born in Philadelphia in 1776 - a bit distant eh? Not even close enough to get married in Kentucky).
Only medal awarded I know of was Bronze Star with V.
As I've mentioned before, I missed that little kerfluffle in the jungle by the skin of my teeth and the grace of the release of the Pentagon Papers which caused a change in troop allotments. My draft orders were rescinded.
Many of those of my age and acquaintance weren't so lucky but I only know of one that died over there. My cousins all made it back uninjured. I'm not aware that any friends were draft-dodgers but I know of at least one with a dishonorable discharge - never found out why.
It is my once-upon-a-time friend Jim who I remember on this day. Jim was a Marine. He was proud of his country and bucked the trend of the times:
"Hey, hey, LBJ. How many kids did you kill today?"
"And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for? Don't ask me, I don't give a damn Next stop is Vietnam"
I'm still not sure how I feel about those days. Peer pressure for sure. Kent State was a big thing at that time. That war was a useless example of political posturing, profiteering, and lies to the world and especially the American public. But I was never a "hippie" and didn't care for what I came to understand as socialist ideas. I was old enough in '64 to consider Barry Goldwater as my choice - I still have one of the books he put out: "Why Not Victory?". I was kinda young for such things ...
If you must fight a war, fight it to win. It seems we didn't want to win in Vietnam.
But even being half Canadian, hopping the border wasn't a consideration - I am American. Joining the Air Force might have happened. I wanted to fly B-52s ... not bad enough to enlist on my own though.
Water long under the bridge but the after-effects are still with us.
Jim joined up as soon as he was old enough.
And then he came back.
At least his body returned.
My cousin was in the Marines as well. A few years older, he was in one of the Marine regiments at Khe San. He made it back - we get together every so often and play poker, drink beer, and not talk about the war.
Jim and I weren't real close ... but we weren't really distant either. We went to school together, Boy Scouts together; would get together and do things small town high school kids did. After he got back from Vietnam, we'd get together down at the B-Bar and have a few beers, talk over older times ... and in hindsight, it seems he was trying to re-connect with his life as it once was.
It didn't take ... so far as I ever knew.
We never really talked of his time in service; he said it was something we didn't want to know and he didn't want to talk of it. He never said if he regretted joining up. At least at that time, he wasn't rah, rah Marines though. So many of today's Vietnam vets talk as if they were happy and anxious to join up. Didn't seem they felt that way at the time - so many were unwillingly drafted or given the choice of jail or service ... at least those close to my age. Jim may have been the only one I knew fairly well that enlisted by choice.
My life took me away a few years later. Last I recall seeing Jim, he was sitting in a corner at the B-Bar - a small narrow place, room enough for the bar along one wall, an aisle to squeeze through, and narrow booths along the other wall. Pat, the bartender - a girl/now woman - of our age keeping an eye on him. Jim would break down crying at odd times and lose himself. Jim had never been that type; he was the type to prefer the Marines over the other services. I felt ... not sorry, not pity - perhaps anger at those that caused this with so little care about the consequences of their numbers game.
I suspect our last words were something along the lines of "See you later"; I didn't know then I wouldn't be back and never see him again.
I lost touch with home and all the people there. I still have some family there but they are younger than me - too young for Vietnam - and didn't know my peers. Mom's buried there but I don't go back anymore myself - town's changed beyond recognition - from 7500 to 150,000 or more. The dirt roads I used to roam are 7 lanes wide now with traffic lights and road rage. The cornfields are full of multi-million dollar mansions packed together like sardines. The trains are long gone, so are the tracks - and the ghosts themselves have faded away. There's no point stirring up resting spirits - even if I could get through the traffic.
And B-Bar's long gone ... even the trace of it has disappeared.
I hear stray rumors/facts every now and then. I'm at the age where friends and acquaintances passing on becomes more common. Joe's gone; so is Dave. Sue disappeared, Becky killed herself, so did Linda. I heard Tom died a few years ago. I heard from one former serious HS girlfriend about 15 years ago; nothing since. Lost touch with Scott and another Joe. No reason to think they aren't still around. A few - Eric, another Dave - turned into sufferers of TDS and cut off contact ...
A day of remembrance ...
I never did hear anymore about Jim ... or Pat either for that matter. I suspect Jim has passed on. Maybe - wherever - he's found peace within himself again.
The band Kansas said it better than I can: "Dust In The Wind".
I play that tune on Memorial Day.
Here's to a remembrance, Jim ... wherever you may be.
Quail came up on my post with a chukar. I knew I had a photo of quail but it got lost in a bit pile. So I pulled out a bit shovel, dug around in the bits, and there it was.
There are a lot of these little critters around these parts ... in spite of a neighborhood full of cats, dogs, coyotes, and other such that enjoy a good poultry meal.
This article over at ZeroHedge ("These Are The States With The Highest Freeway Fatalities") is summed up in its last sentence. Presented by a law firm, the article concludes: "“It’s time for decisive, proactive measures that prioritize lives over speed,” the spokesperson added."
“States like Wyoming, New Mexico, and Missouri consistently see alarmingly high rates of interstate freeway crashes. Factors such as long rural stretches, high-speed travel, and limited visibility often create dangerous driving conditions that put lives at risk every day.”
They present "statistics" that imply Wyoming has the highest fatality rate "per 100,000". Wyoming having little population, vast regions of open territory, and two interstate highways carrying heavy - non-Wyoming residents - inter-state travel, it's easy to develop numbers showing Wyoming is the most dangerous ... but limited visibility? In some places maybe, but in others you can see 15-20 miles ahead. To say nothing of "rural" implying low traffic density.
I-80 - Wyoming
Wyoming's population is under 600,000. If there are 6 highway fatalities in Wyoming, that's a "death rate" of 6 per 100,000. That could be a singe bad accident. Six highway deaths in California (pop about 40 million) wouldn't even register. There are about 20,000,000 people in NY. It would take 200 deaths for NY to have a death rate of 1 per 100,000; 1200 to "match" that 6 per 100,000 in Wyoming.
(reported actual numbers for Wyoming: 31.6 average fatal crashes per year/5.4 crashes per 100,000 between 2019 and 2023. No report of number of fatalities per crash).
Here's where they get down to it: "The law firm called on policymakers to take concrete steps, recommending a stronger highway patrol presence, improved road lighting and signage, and the use of technology to monitor high-risk zones. Public education on speed control and defensive driving was also highlighted as a critical need."
I've driven every Interstate of the west and many back east. I'd suggest I-75 in Kentucky, or I-66 in Virginia, or I-95 most anywhere, or I-90/94 in Chicago, or any highway near Atlanta are far more dangerous than I-80/25 in Wyoming or I-90 in Montana. Though I-70 in Missery can be interesting, especially near St Louis or Kansas City.
Damn! I'm not fond of the direction people with too much power are forcing "technology" on to those with not enough. Too late to change it though.
I'm not a hunter but ... "Idaho offers some of the best chukar and gray partridge hunting in the West, not to mention robust populations of California quail. Chukars are typically found in rocky, arid areas covered with cheat grass and sage brush."
Half my property is sage covered. Smells nice, especially after a rain. I have groups of coveys of quail - 25 or more per covey sometimes - wandering around the homestead. Ground dwellers for the most part. They seem to prefer running to flying but capable of both. The cats catch one or two but I suspect that's the quail's fault because usually the coveys are very attentive. Not so many chukar immediately close by but pheasant and sage hens make a rare appearance. Need to dig up a photo ... but this is about chukars.
"Chukars are not native to North America, having been introduced from Asia, but they have thrived in the arid, rocky slopes of the western states."
"The Owyhee Mountains in southwest Idaho provide some of the state’s best chukar hunting opportunities. This remote and rugged range along the Idaho-Oregon border has an abundance of chukars. The chukar population here thrives thanks to the plentiful water sources and steep, rocky slopes."
"The birds are hunted across the dry, rocky Columbia Basin, especially in the vicinity of the Snake River in Washington and Oregon." Not sure why this source doesn't mention Idaho - the majority of the Snake is in Idaho and forms much of the border with Oregon.
Pretty bird. Tasty I hear but doesn't seem to be much meat on them, particularly if needing to pick out shotgun pellets.
Even though I'm more or less due north of San Diego, southern Idaho is on Mountain Time. For that matter, Mountain Time (in the US) extends 60 miles west into Oregon. Nevada to the south is on Pacific Time as is northern Idaho. So sunset is an hour later than it would be considering our longitude (near 117W).
