More Front Porch Music

Here is some more front porch music on my new Martin. The song is something I remember from my youth. I can't remember the title. The picture is from left to right, my mother, my uncle Earvin, my maternal grandmother and my uncle Eugene who taught me how to play. The guitar he is holding appears to be a pre-war Gibson L Model, perhaps an L-5. It would have been worth the good part of a years "crop" back then and now it would be priceless.

Front Porch Music

This is the kind of music I heard in my youth. It was played on front porches and even at the general store. True to the form, I did not use a mic nor any effects. It is a raw acoustic recording of me playing a Hohner Crossover harmonica in a rack accompanying myself with a Martin LXM guitar. The sound is kind of raw to my tastes and I was amazed at the amount of reed rattle a nearly hundred dollar harmonica produces in an acoustic recording. But, the sound is also authentic. This is pretty well what front porch music sounded like around our place in the 1950's.

The song has no name. It is what my uncles used to call a breakdown. They did live radio back then. When they had to "stretch" they would go into one of these "breakdowns" and vamp until they ran out the clock. My uncle Eugene taught me some basic breakdowns when I was five or so.

At any rate, this is in remembrance of my Uncle Eugene who took the time and trouble to give me the gift of music when I was too young to appreciate it.

Post Script:

This was my first recording with my new Martin LXM guitar. I have had it now for a couple of weeks and I think I have developed a friend for life. It is very small guitar, 3/4 sized actually. It is made for children and adults who travel. But, it has a HUGE voice and more than adequate tone. It is easy to play and easy to haul around. I can play it all evening if I want to without developing cramps as I play or spending the night awake with aching shoulders.

The guitar is made in Mexico. I wish it had been made in America but I doubt that it could be under the current administration since it uses all high tech laminates whose manufacturing processes would cost a fortune to license in the US due to environmental restrictions. And, that brings up another point. I had avoided this guitar for months because of it is made of plywood. Problem is, whatever Martin did, they did right and their little plywood axe sounds much better than many solid wood guitars I played.

Sometimes, a musician develops an emotional attachment to an instrument. I have several guitars and ukuleles. Some of them are pretty good instruments and some are just adequate. I have played this little guy every morning and evening since he arrived on my front porch and I can see myself doing the same thing every day for the rest of my life. It is that comfortable. Thank you Martin for making a good quality, inexpensive guitar.

Good Time Over A Bad Meal

The Rat Pack went out Wednesday night for the five dollar spaghetti dinner special at Spaghetti Warehouse. I can't say much good about the meal. My soup was cold, my pasta was lukewarm, the chicken topping I ordered for it was a frozen entree that had been nuked. I have had better pasta out of a Korean War era C-Rat can warmed up over a heat tab. The only things really worth talking about on the table were the sourdough bread (which was good) and the really overpriced pitcher of Sangria. I suppose it would be really, really hard to screw up Koolaid and table red.

But, the talk around the table was pleasant as was the company. The conversation went something like this: Mike was deeply engrossed in getting his quite sophisticated, self installed home security system installed and working right. Maddy was exercised about Rush Limbaugh for calling Georgetown law student Sandra Fluke a whore. I have been reading a book about the destructive effects of meth on small towns and talked some about that. Vacation plans went around once or twice. We're kicking around the possibility of renting a beach house together next fall after the students clear the beaches. Probably someplace on the Redneck Riviera in Mississippi or Alabama.
















But, as usual, good food or bad, a good time was had by all.

The Rat Pack Takes A Cruise

Bill Plays At Photography

Back in the stone ages we used to have to develop film in darkrooms and apply our artistic bent through both the camera lens and electro-mechanical monstrosities called "enlargers." Now, with digital cameras and photo processing software, it is all so easy. But, despite that ease, I gave up photography when I began the long path toward becoming an attorney. I am coming back to it now. Recently, I decided that life is too short and I have lived too long to give up the simple pleasures God gave to us to make life enjoyable. I used to particularly enjoy doing character studies of people. Here are few shots from our recent cruise:

Bill and Sheila Eat Indian

After a string of spring like days, it was a raw and windy night in Tulsa. The kind of night you think twice about going out into. But, we decided to go ahead and Sheila suggested we try the new Indian restaurant at 4844 S. Memorial for our regular Friday night outing. I'm glad she did.

Himalaya's Aromas of India serves a buffet style meal for lunch and dinner every day. Tonight, there was a wide range of interesting choices on the buffet. I had a lamb meatball, Chicken Tiki Marsala, Chicken Curry, Chicken Tandoori, my favorite deep fried spinach leaves, a vegan potato and vegetable dish and fried bread. Every choice was fabulous. The chicken in the curry and the Tiki Marsala was buttery, almost melting in your mouth. The ground lamb was well seasoned with mint and cilantro.

After we were seated with our buffet plates, the head waiter asked if he could make us a "crunchy Indian salad." He proceeded to take a couple of large salad bowls and begin scooping up various items and sauces from the buffet line. In a couple of moments he sat the bowls before us. After one bite, we were both hooked. It was an intriguing mixture of tomatoes, onions, lentils, Indian crackers, other things we could only guess at and what tasted like several Indian sauces. The result was a delight to the palate. The mixture of textures was fascinating. The flavors were clean and at the same time savory and homey. The salad could have been a meal in itself.

We finished the meal with Mango custard poured over chopped apples and bananas and an interesting dish made from pineapples, raisins, nuts and cream of wheat. All I can say is that as unlikely as the latter dish sounded, it was nothing short of fabulous and I found myself wishing I had eaten less earlier in the meal so that I could have had more of it.

Despite its humble home, Himalaya's Aromas of India serves one of the best meals in Tulsa. It is a little pricey, around twenty five dollars for two, but the food is nothing short of fabulous. It is exotic, intriguing and satisfying. The staff are friendly and helpful and the surroundings, while humble, are spotlessly clean. We will be going back often.

Bill and Sheila At Sea - Day One

I am sitting on the fantail of the Carnival Triumph. To my right is nothing but the wake of the ship, a frothy white and turquoise confection streaming behind us for a hundred yards or so and then nothing but sea to the horizon.

We are just about in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico halfway between Galveston and Cozumel. The weather is pleasantly warm, in the lower 70's. Shorts and flip flops are just comfortable given the wind but overall it is a beautiful day at sea.

We departed Galveston around 4:00 yesterday afternoon. The check in and boarding, while long and tiring, did not have the concentration camp atmosphere typical in most airports these days. The port authority people, the TSA people and especially the cruise line people were all friendly and helpful.

At the sight of my cane, Sheila and I were whisked around the long lines and given expedited handling through every step. And, while the over half mile walk was taxing, just about everything that could be done to make it easier was done. We made it to our stateroom less than an hour after starting the check in process and our luggage was politely placed outside our door before 5:00.

After we had more or less unpacked, the group we are traveling with met at a classy little bar down on the 3^rd deck and split a bottle of Mogen David mixed with ginger ale. Booze is expensive on cruise ships, even in the very moderate quantities that our crowd drinks. We decided to take advantage of the one bottle of “fine wine” per person allowance to cut down on that expense. I was prepared to argue that Mogen David is a fine wine. It says so right there in their advertisements. And anyway, in today’s politically correct craziness what company would dare refuse a bottle of Kosher wine? I called our little get together a Skid Row Cocktail Party because I showed up with a bottle and all my friends showed up with plastic cups. That’s exactly what happens down on 11^th when one of the fellows is seen walking around with a new brown paper bag in his hand.

We passed a pleasant couple of hours in the lounge, listening to a very professional solo artist do standards and light rock. Later in the cruise, I talked to this guy. I heard him several times and he is without a doubt the best solo bar act I ever heard. Nothing but him, a Gibson 335 and a one foot by eighteen inch stomp box case. I asked him how he was getting all of that sound out of so little equipment and he showed me his I-Pad which he was using to store all of his multi-track backing tracks. The most surprising thing however was his voice. On stage, he had the perfect blues, rock southern accent and intonation. Off stage, he has the annoying twang of his native land, Canada.

While it seemed to take forever to get a table in the dining room, the combination of the wine and the company made the wait enjoyable. I really don't know what to say about dinner. They served the best Caesar Salad I have had in a long, long time and the best cup of decaf coffee. But, everything in between was at best lackluster. However, our wait staff was superb. The assistant maitre' de who is a ships officer not just staff was our waiter. He and his crew were cheerful and professional.

With dinner over, I headed back to the stateroom while Sheila and a girlfriend wandered off in search of bingo cards and stage shows. Leaning out over the rail of our little balcony, it strikes me that this is one big old boat. As a matter of fact, the Carnival Triumph is a huge ship, one of the largest passenger vessels afloat. She is nearly three hundred yards long and travels at twenty knots. While not speedy by the old thirty knot plus standards of the golden age of liners, this is nevertheless absolutely amazing for a ten story floating hotel carrying over three thousand passengers

There is a lot of motion for a ship this size in relatively calm seas. The action of the stabilizers is quite noticeable in preventing roll and oscillation. The motion isn't unpleasant but is far more noticeable than my memories of the motion of the much smaller but heavily loaded Navy transports that I sometimes traveled on in my youth. The thing that surprises me most is the fact that even on the 8^th deck we can feel the propulsion plant. Eight stories up, you know those shafts are turning someplace down there.

It is almost a misnomer to call the Triumph a liner. She is a floating hotel, casino and resort that is as much a destination in herself as the ports she visits. The Carnival lines are the Greyhound buses of the cruise industry. This was especially apparent at dinner last night. Some of the ladies were dressed in designer cocktail dresses and expensive resort wear. Others were in what was obviously an outfit chosen from the bargain rack at WalMart. But, somehow it works. The ship and the crew don't take themselves too seriously and realize that their job is just to make sure that everybody has a good time. And, they do that pretty well. More tomorrow.