The Dawg and the Bear

The Dancing Bear had lived in many places in North America but he found himself of late residing in an urban area of the great Northwest with normal people. At least as normal as anyone could be considered on the Best Coast in a large metropolitan community.

He loved to dine on local fare and listen to the music  that was played by local musicians as well as visiting performers and among his favorite haunts was a local jazz club that featured a continuing lineup of world class music makers.

This is what drew him to Dimitrious’ Jazz Alley on a Saturday night in the big city.

There are a lot of performers who sound better on their recordings than they do in person.

David Grisman has made some incredible recordings over the last forty years but he is one of those performers who you just have to see in order to really appreciate. I have had the pleasure of seeing him on a number of occasions but last Saturday night at Dimetrious’ Jazz Alley in Seattle was the first time in at least five or six years. It’s a pleasure to report that he is still the master of the mandolin.

The David Grisman Quintet has been around for thirty years, but Mr. Grisman is the only original member. The names of the various people who have been members of the band at one time or another reads like a list of who’s who in acoustic music.  Tony Rice, Mike Marshall, Mark O’Connor and Darol Anger just to name a few. The current lineup has a couple of long timers who have played so long with the Dawg (Mr. Grisman) that it sounds like they are not only playing as one but thinking together as well. Matt Eckle has been the flute player for nearly twenty years and Jim Kerwin has handled the acoustic bass for twenty-three years. They are the core of the band and they can read each other’s musical minds. I am sure of this.

This was my first experience listening to George March on the drums and he handled the job flawlessly. That is no small feat given the changing tempos and racing performances that the Dawg puts the band through. The “Dawg” sound is based on a jazz swing that can be at times melodious and sweet as sin. It can also rock and reel and race around the room like a hurricane with each performer taking the lead and soloing.

The other new band member was a rather young looking guitar player named Grant Gordy. His demeanor was calm and his attention was devoted to his band mates and the music. He never wavered in his duty and he was the biggest surprise of the evening as far as I was concerned.

When called upon to pick up the lead and solo he burst forth in a machine gun attack that captured the whole room’s attention. He was masterful in his solos and had the unerring sense of rhythm that “Dawg” music requires. Whether the tempo was fast or slow, this young person, who out of respect for his talent I will refrain from referring to as a kid, just plain tore up the guitar. I have heard several guitar players perform with Grisman over the years but this guy was fresh, exciting and just screamed potential. If he is this good now, I can’t wait to hear him in a few years. He was just outstanding.

The band did a wonderful blend of old as well as new numbers and the time just flew. They do two shows a night at Jazz Alley and the first show never seems long enough.

My wife and I had a delightful dinner and were close enough to the stage to feel as though we were part of the performance. After an encore we moved to the bar and purchased a CD to take home. One of the great things about seeing the Quintet is that Grisman always comes out to talk to the fans afterwards and signs autographs. He is a treasure and if you get the chance you should go hear him play. The master of the mandolin is one of the best musical acts that you can see and we need to appreciate him while we can.

A bear and a dawg might seem like an unlikely combination but all was peaceful this wonderful evening and a good time was had by all.

How ’bout them Steelers?

The city of Champions is about to send their beloved Steelers to their 7^th Super Bowl and you know that I will be in front of the TV to watch them capture their 6^th Championship. I’m making vegetarian chili for the meatless crowd and Buffalo wings for the carnivores. If you’re in the neighborhood, do drop in.

The Bear as a Steelers Fan

Miss Davis

“There are two kinds of people in the world.”

This is the classic opening line many speakers choose. Lawyers, preachers, politicians and other tellers of tall tales often use this as a jumping off point in their attempts to regale us. Like so many things in life, this opening statement can be either true or false depending on how it’s phrased.

An example of a false statement would be “There are two kinds of people in the world, Democrats and Republicans.”

This is clearly not true as there are many other political parties to choose. Some people choose not to be affiliated with any party.

However, if you said “There are two kinds of people in the world, Democrats and non-Democrats,” the statement makes sense. To put it another way, the statement is logical.

Everyone is either a Democrat or not. This is very simple and true.

The formal rules of logic were developed by Aristotle over two thousand years ago and they still hold today. There are groups of statements called syllogisms that have rules for their use and if the rules are followed, you can determine if a given statement is true based on the previous statements. The rules are quite rigid and the statements have to be constructed following those rules, but it is possible to determine whether a statement is true or false given that the previous statements are true. I will not go into any more detail as I fear I may have lost you, dear reader, already.

In any event, Aristotle left much for us to ponder including the beginnings of a systematic method of labeling and categorizing the world around us. He divided the natural world into groups and thus pointed us in the direction of naming the animals, plants and minerals. This has allowed us to catalogue and study these “things.”

There is much good that has come from this but there is much that is confusing and mistaken as well. At least, in my opinion there is. I believe that there are instances when we label things or people that cause us to misunderstand who or what they are. I will give you an example.

My favorite magazine is the Oxford American. A good friend gave me a subscription to it over a year ago and I have become obsessed with it. They put out four issues a year and since that is not nearly enough for me I have tracked down and purchased every single back issue except for one and I am in the process of reading them all from cover to cover.

I want to point out here that I cannot find issue #4 and would be willing to pay a fair price for it if any of you out there have one. Contact me at rkwhaley@gmail.com if you have any information about this issue.

Oxford American refers to itself as the Southern Magazine of Good Writing. I love it because it is all about good writing and while I lived for twenty years in a state that is thought of as the “south”, I have a little bit of trouble with the label “southern writing.”

If there is such a thing as southern writing I cannot help but wonder if there is such a thing as northern writing, or eastern writing or whatever. Of course the logical way to think of the whole thing would be to label things southern writing and non-southern writing. The problem with that for me is that it sure makes that particular kind of writing sound pretty darn important. To be completely honest with you I think there are some people in the south who do think of themselves as pretty darn important.

I’ve met people who seem to be unaware of the fact that the Civil War is over. I seems as though some of them believe that General Lee is camped somewhere outside of Richmond waiting on supplies. I pointed out the fact that the South had lost the war to a southern gentleman once and he shrugged his shoulders and replied “Once we found out you didn’t want our women or horses, we really didn’t care.”

The name of this blog is “What’s Bob Eating….and What’s Eating Bob?”

Most people understand that the second question refers to things that may be bothering me or things that I have on my mind. No one seems to wonder whether or not some “thing” or animal is actually trying to eat me. I am glad they understand that but I hope they understand that the first part of the title is to be interpreted in a similar manner.

I consume many things and they include books, movies and music. These are the material things that give my life meaning. My family is my rock and my ultimate concern, but I love to fill my head with sounds and images and ideas. They roll around in the vacuum of my brain and on occasion settle into some sort of order that pleases me. That is all I can hope for.

The Feet of the Outlaw

Several years ago my wife borrowed a projector from her office to use in a computer presentation she had written. Her Power Point slide show was projected onto a screen to make it easier for a large group to see. Someone in the family, probably my son, pointed out to us that the projector could be attached to our DVD player or our cable box and the image projected on a screen or a white wall for theater style viewing. With that projector we were able to build the “poor man’s” home theatre and we practically gave up watching our old tiny twenty-five inch screen. We were able to generate a ninety inch screen on the wall and with the addition of the stereo speakers greatly enhance our movie and TV experience.

I have always loved watching movies but when we found and purchased a used projector on eBay I really got into it. When we moved to Seattle a year ago we did not hook up the projector. There didn’t seem to be a good wall to use and we did not have a movie screen anymore. All that changed a couple of weeks before Christmas after we rearranged the furniture and got the stereo amplifier and projector out.

Now my wife and I are watching several movies a week again and have developed a rather serious “Bette Davis” problem. She made a lot of movies and we are really enjoying working our way through her catalog. But that is not all we are watching. With a four day weekend to relax and my wrist banged up we spent a good deal of time in the dark northwestern winter watching movies on our living room wall.

Three of them stood out for me and I guess some folks would describe them as “southern” films.

The first film was entitled “Shakespeare Was a Big George Jones Fan; The Home Movies of Cowboy Jack Clement”. Jack Clement is a record producer and songwriter who helped discover and promote Jerry Lee Lewis, Charlie Pride and others. He has made home movies for years and this was a sampling of that collection. The movie included several performances as well as candid clips of Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton and many more. It was great fun, extremely funny and a very interesting look at some of the early days of rock and roll and Sun Records.

The next film of the south we saw was truly spellbinding. “Searching For the Wrong-Eyed Jesus” unashamedly calls itself a look at the back roads of the South. Our guide on this journey was the singer/songwriter Jim White and he took us through small bars, prisons and churches off the beaten path from Mississippi to Virginia. Along the way we were entertained by some lesser know musicians and the writer Harry Crews. If you have not read any of Mr. Crews’ books you have missed out on a truly original “southern” writer. His books are brutal, bloody, earthy and honest. If you can’t take that, then don’t pick him up. This movie made me feel as though I needed a shower when it was over but I would be glad to see it again. It was comic and serious at the same time and at many places just plain frightening.

The last so-called southern movie I saw was made sometime around 1990 and is a real piece of comic/tragic art. “The Dancing Outlaw” is magical. The original film was thirty minutes and it tells the story of mountain dancer Jesco White, a resident of Boone County, West Virginia. Jesco is the son of legendary mountain dancer D. Ray White who was immortalized in a PBS documentary several years before this film was made. Jesco dances, talks about his father and documents the substance abuse and criminal activities of his youth. Sounds like fun, huh?

Along the way he also addresses his special interest in Elvis as well as the murder of his father (not by him) and his strained relationship with his wife. All in all this is quite an entertaining look at a very unique dude. “The Dancing Outlaw II” continues the story and tells of how Tom Arnold contacted Jesco and got him to appear on an episode of the Rosanne show. The cast found him quite amusing and when the shooting was over Tom gave him some cash and sent him to a tattoo parlor to get the swastikas on his arms covered up. The two films will make you laugh and if not cry, at least shake your head in disbelief. As they say, “You just can’t make this stuff up.”

All three films have several qualities about them that caught my attention. They are funny. They are tragic and they are real. I’m not sure if that is what makes them “southern” or if being “southern” gave them those qualities, but I think they are wonderful.

There are more than two kinds of people in the world and if there is such a thing as southern writing or southern music, food or movies then there are many, many more kinds of all of the above in this great big crazy world we live in. I think that the truth is that there are no two things or people alike in the whole world and we should be very careful about putting names and labels on each other. I like the differences. Heck, I just like the different.

Jesco White

Wrist Update

I am healing. At least I think I am. I am obviously back to typing long meandering essays and that is what I enjoy.