Ali Bumaye

"What's my name?"

........it just smells funny

Taking a walk on this lovely day. Powered up the old iPod . That's right , I said iPod. Old skool baby. I still have an original iPod that my sister gave me as a gift ages ago. A few years back a bunch of elementary school kids saw it and had no idea what it was. The mocked me viciously, children can be so cruel. To them it was enormous , the size of a brick- comparatively I will agree it's a bit bigger then what they have today........ I'm tearing up, just writing this, why do they have to be so mean?

Anyway......

I was listening to a odd mix of tunes House of Pain, Doris Day, Sly and The Famile Stone. In among the mix I stumble upon Grand Funk Railroad playing the Rolling Stones classic- Gimme Shelter.  Is there version as slinky , as slithery , as challenging as the original? No, it's kinda plodding, a bit Neanderthal , and I love every second of it.

Now, Grand Funk will never see the inside of the Rock and Roll hall of fame- if Jann Wenner had his way they wouldn't even be allowed to buy a ticket.

But if I had my druthers , I would put them in, immediately. (And if I had my Druckers I would own a general store near Hooterville, but that's another story for another time.)

What the.....? Grand Funk? Hall of Fame? Heresy! Kill him! Stone the Beast! Kill! Kali! Kill for the love of killing? Kill for Kali! .......okay, got carried away there.

Here is my case for Mark, Don and Mel- I was in 8th grade or so when they first burst on the scene. And make no mistake, they hit big! Big! They played Shea Stadium! Big! They were releasing albums every coupla weeks (I exaggerate). The albums would have like 4 songs on them, two on a side! Eleven, twelve minute magnum opie! ( plural of opus)  the scone half of "I'm your Captain" alone runs about 45 minutes!

But, you know what? My 13 year old self and my buddy Ed said "We can do That!" And by gods we did! That summer we set up in Eds garage, electric guitar and a bunch of cardboard boxes stuffed with pillows and we would thrash the bejeezus out of "Inside Lookin' Out" for hours out of time.

It is said that now many people bought the first Velvet Underground album, but everybody who did started a band.

I'll guarantee that like the punk bands who would arrive a few years later, Grand Funk inspired more than a handful of young punks to sit in a hot garage and pound away and make a loud, joyful noise..

Mark says Alright.


ps the title of today's digression is a paraphrase of an old Frank Zappa line " Rock and Roll isn't dead, it just smells funny" for the original substitute Jazz for Rock and roll.

Pps picture has nothing to do with the story, I just like Stewart's.

.....for arts sake

A good friend of mine (as well as a theatrical co- conspirator) runs an art gallery on a picturesque little Main Street. Tonight they had a reception to celebrate their 5th anniversary, that's right I am a hipster by association. A lovely event.

Recently we worked together on a production of Mary Poppins. She designed the costumes and props for the show. She reached out to one of her fellow artists to create the iconic parrot head handle for Mary's umbrella. It was gorgeous..

Tonight I met the artist who created the piece, delightful. As we spoke I asked her to show me some of her work in the gallery. The pieces she had in the gallery were ceramics, small bowls and mugs as well as a few abstract sculptures.

The craftsmanship was beautiful with great attention to detail. As usual I started asking questions about the process, she pointed out details that I didn't even notice at first glance. It was fascinating.

How long does it take to create something like this? " the basic shape, about a minute. Well 15 years learning the craft and a minute" she answered.

A lesson to be learned for all artists

use your words.....

Sitting in Starbucks , enjoying a green iced tea, unsweetened. I was gifted a gift card the other day, hence my enjoying an over priced beverage.

The people at the table next to me are on a first date ( or more accurately one of those " we have been talking on the interweb, we should meet face to face" occasions)  They were talking about dogs a few minutes ago, now we just took a hard left turn into " there is no god" territory. Oh boy, hope all goes well you crazy kids.

The in store radio just played -A Simple Twist Of Fate, by Mr Bob Dylan.... I enjoy that song. Over the past few years I have seen Dylan live a number of times. An eccentric presence to say they least, but I always enjoy it.

I saw him twice at Bethel Woods, near the site of the original Woodstock festival, one of my favorite venues. The first time there was a women sitting behind me, she was incensed that he didn't speak in between songs, he rarely speaks at all. She was working herself into a frenzy! Why wasn't he saying anything?

What the heck did she want him to say? What in gods name could he possibly have to say about these songs that haven't been said a million times before? People examine every word he writes looking for evidence of..... Something. He'll sing them, let somebody else try to figure it out.

That same summer I saw the Doobie Brothers at Jones Beach, another terrific venue, they played all the hits, sounded great, classic rock radio come to life. Now Tom Johnston, spoke before and after every song. The comments were mostly of tHe "Are you ready to Rock?" " How you feeling Jones Beach?" Variety. Which is fine.

I can't imagine Bob asking " Are you ready to parse the meaning of all twenty verses of Tangled Up in Blue, New York Ci- Tay ?"

John Prine has a nice laid back quirky uncle vibe on stage. An offhand bit of oddity here, a wry observation there. A personal favorite, when I saw him at Carnegie Hall he asked " Did you all find the place alright? " a wee bit of perfect.

The late great Dan Hicks played the part of a slightly cranky, sour show biz veteran who had seen it all- twice. " Thank you very much Ladies and gentleman" he would intone without a shred of sincerity..... All the time allowing himself  to be drenched in self deprecation. A big star on his way down the ladder, deigning to do his best to entertain the Hoi-polloi.

My nephew Kevin and I had the pleasure of seeing Mike Nesmith in concert at the Boulton Center, another great venue, very small and intimate. He introduced every song with a short monologue that would set the scene. Each introduction and song were like little movies. Great fun.

Oh boy, the couple next to me are now talking about their shared love of musical theater. Judging by his tone , I somehow question his sincerity. Time for me to skee-daddle.

Goodnight Starbucks! You've been great! Catch you next time!

(A programming note)

a few people asked about the title of the previous post. Comedy.......Tragedy.....

It is a paraphrase of a Mel Brooks quote, when asked about the difference between the two.

The management thanks you for your interest.

Comedy- you fall in a manhole and die. Tragedy- I get a paper cut

Years ago I read an interview with Jorge Posada, the Yankee's catcher, in it he said that his hands were swollen throughout baseball season. Six months a year, swollen hands. Ouch.

I read an interview with Tiki Barber, the football player not the Polynesian Tonsorial Parlor, he compared playing in a professional football game to being involved in a minor car accident. He went on to say that basically he would be bedridden until Thursday. So basically involved in nearly 20 car accidents a year. Ouch.

The other day I fell and broke my left thumb. Owww. I would tell you how, but I told a few people about it and they berated me, telling me the story was too boring. Ouch.

My wee little thumb was swollen for the better part of a week.  amazing how much the lack of a working left thumb impacts the day to day. Holding a thing, grabbing a Whats -it, buttoning a shirt, playing the old guitar. Nothing earth shattering, just a nuisance.

They day after my fall, okay I fell bringing the garbage to the curb! Go ahead mock me! ..... Okay, the next day, I ached all over. Again nothing major just your basic dull ache. One fall. Broken thumb. Full body ache for four days. One fall. Ouch.

Of course in a movie our hero gets beaten by an angry mob, kicked in the ribs repeatedly, thrown off a moving train , all after head butting a vicious ne'er do well. Then he'll sit up, sigh, shake it off and then hi jack a motorcycle and continue the high speed chase that was interrupted by the head butt.

Don't ask me what movie that's from, I'm just trying to create some excitement to make up for the tripping taking out the garbage anecdote. Give a guy a break, just not the other thumb.

Ouch.

eye yi yi

I read an article once about a production of Ben Hur that was produced on Broadway years ago, many years ago. They staged the chariot race, live, with honest to gods, real life, flesh and blood horses, running on a revolving stage. Kind of a lazy Susan arrangement.

A few years back a friend of mine directed a play that had a scene of a helicopter flight. Two actors and a kitchen chair.

Given a choice I would prefer the helicopter chair.

A few years back I saw the first Lara Croft: Tomb Raider movie. Back in the day I would basically see every single movie that was released. All kinds of special effects, lots of CGI, stuff blowin' up, all sorts of hi-tech hi-jinx. In the middle of it all was a shot of Angelina Jolie in close up, peering over a wall, all eyes.

That was the best effect in the movie.

On stage or on screen , for me ,the best special effects are people. Telling a story, connecting to that story. Connecting to their character. Connecting to the other actors and finally to the audience

 Watch the eyes. It's all in the eyes.

As an actor, when you make that eye to eye connection, you get locked in with the other actor. There is something about it that is incredibly intimate. Often a  young actor has trouble making that eye to eye contact, it's too much. Often you get the "staring at the forehead effect" not as effective.

There are times when you don't want to make eye contact and that can be just as powerful. " hmmm, why can't he look her in the eye?"

During rehearsal the other night we were having an " eye" conversation, when I went home that night I picked up a book and discovered this bit of poetry. Coincedence? I think not.

You need not see what someone is doing
To know if it is his vocation

You have only to watch his eyes:
A cook mixing a sauce, a surgeon

Making a primary incision,
A clerk completing a bill of lading,

Wear the same rapt expression,
Forgetting themselves in a function

How beautiful it is
That eye-on-the-object look

W H Auden