The forsythia has come… and almost gone. Redbud is here in all its glory. Before you know it, these beautiful lavender branches will have turned to green and unless you are tuned into such local beauties you will wonder, ‘What happened to the redbud?’
It’s like, ‘What happened to life?’
I was thinking about the Tom Waits character in Rumblefish. The ‘I’ve got thirty five summers left,’ soliloquy. Great scene, but it made me think… it’s been a long time since I’ve had thirty five summers left. When I was young I just took the endless stream of summers for granted as we all seem to. There’s always next year… there will always be another time to do this or that.
One day you realize how quickly you are running out of that time and that there never was such a thing as an ‘endless stream of summers.’ The pandemic has robbed us all of so much, most notably time. The time to have lived, the time have proceeded on the course you laid. Time that you will never get back no matter what happens in the future.
Staying alive gives you another shot at another endeavor… perhaps another season of redbud, perhaps another cardinal on the back porch railing. Perhaps seeing your daughter grow into womanhood, you son moving deeper on the trail into manhood.
Perhaps…
Indeed…
In the meantime, here’s the link for this weekend’s Quarantine Concert Series #45.
You think we’d pick up on the misspelling of ‘Quarantine’ immediately… but it was not to be. Proofreading is tricky stuff as I found with my book, ‘Been So Long. You go over it
again
and again
and you still miss the most obvious stuff. No matter, the show will be great and I’ll be on the chat feed with Vanessa.
On Easter morning Maverick and I walk the perimeter of the Fur Peace Campus
Photo by Jorma Kaukonen
Happy Easter to all who celebrate! It is a lovely morning… finally.
Last night we found our into and out of #44 of the Quarantine Concert Series.
Jorma Kaukonen 15, 2021
Quarantine Concert Series #44
The Fur Peace Station
Darwin, Ohio
Saturday, April 3, 2021
True Religion
Heart Temporary
Big River Blues
I See The Light
Death Don’t Have No Mercy for Allen Albrecht
Everybody’s Talking with John Hurlbut
Driving Wheel with John Hurlbut
Ice Age
Hesitation Blues
Sleep Song
Bar Room Crystal Ball
I’m pretty psyched about my EC Strat through the Louis Electric DelTone channeling the Eventide Black Hole and I can only say we’re going to be hearing and seeing more of this chain of gear!
So I’m driving our daughter back from the gym at Athens High School and we look out the window a we head south on Rt. 33. The grass… Spring green… the cows… happy to be out of the barn. Temperature in the low 70’s.
Delightful!
Then this morning as I headed out to walk the dogs and feed the cats. 17 degrees Fahrenheit. Good grief. Early Spring weather. You just have to love it.
Moving right along.
Yes, there you have it. The link for tonight’s show which would be #44. I’ll be there. Will you?
Nessa took that great picture a day or so ago and I just wanted to share it. The ladies are up in Triadelphia, West Virginia for a Volleyball Tournament but thanks to the occasional magic of the internet we were both able to be present for the chat and I could watch and critique myself during the show. Many thanks to all who tuned in and participated!
Jorma Kaukonen 14, 2021
Quarantine Concert Series #43
The Fur Peace Station
Darwin, Ohio
Saturday, March 27, 2021
Too Many Years
Broken Highway
New Song For The Morning
I Belong To The Band
Watch The North Wind Rise
Search My Heart
Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door with John Hurlbut
A Little Faster with John Hurlbut
Corners Without Exits
River Of Time
Water Song
A good time playing and hanging with my team here at the Fur Peace Ranch as it always is. John and I picked two songs from The River Flows Vol 2 and we are pretty excited about its release presuming that the Covid situation in Europe allows it to ship. On this as on all things, more will be revealed.
Got to get ready for my Sunday City Winery Zoom class.
Don’t miss it folks. I’ll be on the chat… more will be revealed.
And speaking of more…
The Eric Clapton Strat…
Photo by Jorma Kaukonen
Big thanks to my pal Marc for this beauty. Someone thought there might be a locking nut. Nope. I have no use for that, and changing strings on a Strat is demanding enough as it is. This beauty does have a piezo pickup under the bridge, hence the xtra knob.
Are you sure Hank done it thisaway?
Photo by Jorma Kaukonen
Laptop with Eventide Tutorial on the Black Hole Delay… The Eric Clapton Strat makes a great controller. Good times now, but better on down the road. Big thanks to Anthony Agnello for this!
I’m a drifter on the sea of time. I remember my dog as a puppy… but he is not a puppy. He is grey around the muzzle as am I and we have spent the better part of a decade in each other’s company. I think of friends I have met and when the light of their existence surfaces in my mind it is as if I just talked to them yesterday. But that is not the way it is either.
One would think that it would be easy to hold all these dear ones and their memories close at all times but there just doesn’t seem enough time and space for that to adequately happen. Reflecting thus it just seems like the vessel of life doesn’t have enough space on board… or perhaps that’s just an excuse, or just the way it is.
There are so many people who have touched my life. I wish they were on the surface of the memory pond at all times instead of lurking in the currents waiting to be swept to the surface unbidden, at the oddest moments.
The odd moments come as they will and sometimes they cannot be ignored. Last night as I was heading bed a message pinged out on my phone. Normally, at the end of a day I ignore these pricks of conscience and cast off the shackles of bondage that one accepts when you let a Smart Phone into your life. The message was a group chat from Jack Casady and our friend Jeff Jampol.
‘Brian Rohan died.’
Back in the 60’s Brian was indeed the ‘people’s’ lawyer. He defended countless members of my generation most notably for pot busts. My ex-wife, Margareta, was one of these after the Airplane took a bust at Sandy Koufax’s Tropicana motel on Santa Monica. Paul Kantner and Margareta and I were sharing a suite and the cops came to our rooms when Paul and I were out. M took the weight for what they found in Paul’s room.
Brian and M would make more than a few flights to court in LA back when PSA would fly you to Burbank for under twenty bucks. Brian’s wit, wisdom and expertise would get her off in an era when a couple of joints might buy you a dime in prison. That is just a passing memory for me today.
The last time I saw Brian was a couple of years ago in LA at a Jefferson Airplane Corporate meeting which sounds like a contradiction in terms, but isn’t. Since we hadn’t seen each other for a while we spent some time at the table catching up. We were both in recovery so we spoke of that as well some of the roads we had traveled. Older men will do this… it keeps us connected to the earth to be able to talk to someone who knows where have been. Brian was a little older than I, but we were young together and that’s not something you can’t buy.
Over that last couple of days, I noticed the daffodils are blooming in odd little patches around the Ranch. There are some actual beds for them and then there is that one blossom that will make its presence known in the middle of nowhere. This morning as I walked The Big Guy, I noticed that the forsythia was in full bloom around the parking lot. Yesterday it was green… today a sunny gold.
Spring is here and thankfully and I am here to enjoy it with my family. As rivers inexorably swirl us to the sea, I cannot help but wonder how many seasons of the daffodils there are left for me to enjoy. I’m not the one who gets to pull tickets so this is a rhetorical thought of the first water.
Last night was #42 for us and as usual we shared a lot of camaraderie along with the music. In addition to Vanessa and myself just being us, we made special note of Wavy Gravy’s 85 birthday. I have known Wavy for more than half my life now and he is, without doubt one of the most truly significant humans I have ever met. It is easy to get lost in his persona and of course that is what you see and that is a large part of who he is. But there is way more. His commitment to Seva… Service… and to humanity in general is more than noteworthy. I highly recommend adding Saint Misbehavin’ to your movie collection. In the long tradition of the Holy Fool… he is one of the Holiest.
Watch it often… with your friends. I dedicated There’s A Bright Side Somewhere to Wave, because with him… there’s always a Bright Side!
Jorma Kaukonen 13, 2021
Quarantine Concert Series #42
The Fur Peace Station
Darwin, Ohio
Saturday, March 20, 2021
Candy Man
There’s A Bright Side Somewhere for Wavy Gravy’s 85th birthday!
Barbeque King
Highway Song
Izze’s Lullaby
I See The Light
Who Will Stop The Rain with John Hurlbut
Working Class Hero with John Hurlbut
Song From The Stainless Cymbal
Day To Day Out The Window Blues
Embryonic Journey for Brad Coyle
In the the course of our little livestream there’s always that person that just calls Vanessa out and says, ‘You talk too much.’ Without getting pissy if I felt called upon to actually comment in real time I would point out that our event is not a ‘concert’ per se. I wouldn’t deal this sort of badinage into a live concert. That’s not what a concert is all about. We have all been locked up to a greater or lesser degree for the last year and our stream has given Me, Nessa, John, Myron and occasional guests the opportunity to dance in the sunlight if only for a moment, and that’s what we do! Since the show is ‘free’ comments are duly noted and in this case set aside.
We had a great time last night as we do every the livestream cameras roll. Finally, I dedicated Embryonic Journey to our old friend, Brad Coyle. Brad came to the Ranch almost 20 years ago with a guitar and a motorcycle. It was a Pick ‘n’ Putt weekend. My Sister-in-law Ginger rode with Brad on that run. Nessa had her first Sportster that year. It was a good day! As I got to know Brad I discovered that as a nurse he was one of the good people attending to the final days of my old band mate, Spencer Dryden. I was able in those final moments to reconnect in some very small way with Spencer.
That was more than a mitzvah! Thanks Brad. Today Brad himself is facing a trip down that road from which there is no return and we have reconnected again. I was told that as a player himself he loved Embryonic Journey and so my friend… that last song was for you.
This chilly Sunday morning begins with chilly air and blue skies.
Well, Saturday night last, March 13, 2021 that would have been, we celebrated and played our 41st show in the Quarantine Concert Series. Forty-one weeks of music not counting our great shows from the Vaults. As we started the show it took a moment or two for me to find my artistic homeplace and get comfortably relaxed but I’ll get to that after the set list entry.
When I create a set list when for one of our QCS shows or a ‘real’ show in the outside world I try to focus on where I am that evening… physically, spiritually and emotionally. I select tunes that reflect that environment. If a get an outside request from someone that doesn’t contravene that microverse I’m inhabiting then I may or may not add that tune. On this night, someone needed to hear 3rd Week In The Chelsea so I swapped out Izze’s Lullaby. Glad to oblige. The Lullaby will get the call next week and I’m very fond of 3rd Week so in it went. In any case, here’s the Set List from the 13th.
Jorma Kaukonen 12, 2021
Quarantine Concert Series #41
The Fur Peace Station
Darwin, Ohio
Saturday, March 13, 2021
Parchman Farm
Mama Let Me Lay It On You
Things That Might Have Been
San Francisco Bay Blues
Ain’t In No Hurry
A Thousand Miles From Nowhere with John Hurlbut
Morning Dew with John Hurlbut
3rd Week In The Chelsea
Waiting For A Train
Trial By Fire
I Am The Light Of This World
Now, back to getting relaxed on our home stage for our show. As I was walking over to the Fur Peace Station with my Burnt Husk Tea and the evening’s set list I saw a car stopped by the closed gate next to our ticket booth out in the parking lot relentlessly beeping his horn. Now, the parking lot gate was closed and there is a profusion of large signs from St. Clair Road to the parking lot plainly advising the public that the Fur Peace Ranch Facility was closed, I was going out to deal with it but Vanessa insisted that she do it. Now it’s not up to me to decipher what might be in anyone’s head. I’ve got more than enough going on in my own. In any case perhaps the individual was innocent enough in their well-meaning intrusion but that doesn’t matter. When you are asked to leave someone’s property, you leave. Compound this with an unmasked individual who was speaking in riddles and a myriad of warning flags are raised.
Vanessa insisted that I not get involved but I stayed close enough so that if I needed to make my presence felt I would be there. Like we say down here in the country, ‘When seconds count, the police are only minutes away.’ Anyway, Vanessa kept insisting that he leave and he finally got back in his car and instead of simply turning around in our ample parking lot, he got his rig stuck in my culvert and then tore it up getting out. As he finally extricated himself from the ditch he stuck his hand out the window and flipped us off.
Ooooh…. That really hurt.
Oh well, as we say.
Anyway, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t on my mind as we started #41 forty minutes or so later. The good news is that we all settled and had another great evening. Music is indeed magical in its healing powers. Now before I move on, without reflecting on what the intruder’s intentions might or might not have been, the whole moment was rife with disrespect. Nuff said.
Moving right along… I watched the Grammy’s last night and I have to say I thought it was one of the most entertaining Grammy presentations I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of them. Our fourteen year old daughter reminded us, ‘The Grammy’s are tonight Dad…’ My expectations were low but I was more than pleasantly surprised. I know little about ‘new’ music. Not because I look down on it, it’s just not part of my artistic world unless someone opens the door for me and invites me to peek in. I got the invite and I not only peeked in, I walked through the door… and yes, I like Cardi B.
Cool… it’s hard to remember, but Jefferson Airplane got a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist in 1967 and I got a nomination for Best Traditional Folk Album in 2002. (Doc Watson won that year as he should have.) That’s really funny because until very recently I had no idea that Jefferson Airplane had garnered a nomination. Our daughter Izze said, ‘How could that have been Dad?’ Speaking only for myself, that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to me back then. Quite simply put, I was unaware of that honor and didn’t give it a second thought. We collectively didn’t get into the game for those kinds of honorifics. This many years down the road two Grammy nominations, a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and being inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame are all honors that I will gladly bask in. At this point in my life I’ll take the wins as I see them and walk on smiling.
Who knew?
As for last night’s Grammy show and the memories it induced, all I can say is you’re only young once. I’m still working on perfecting ideas that were nascent over half a century ago. I was an Enfant Terrible a long time ago. Now I’m just trying to avoid the Terrible part.
