All We Are Is Dust In The Wind

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that lot of weird stuff goes through my head when I’m laying awake in bed at 4 am; stuff that wouldn’t have pinged my consciousness when I was younger. This morning, while still pondering the joint loss of David Bowie and Alan Rickman, I remembered reading somewhere that within 300 years of your death—unless you’re someone notable like Bowie or Einstein or Neil Armstrong—you will have been completely forgotten since anyone who knew you directly will have long since passed on as well.

I personally put that time frame at half that—or even less. Think about your grandparents. Now think about your great grandparents. How much do you actually know about them and their lives?

I know more about my material grandparents than my paternal. Even then, that knowledge is woefully lacking, and since Mom was an only child, once my sister and I pass on, that knowledge will vanish as well. I believe my grandfather was a chemical engineer. I know he worked in a white collar capacity at a paper mill for the majority of his life, and was recognized by the company for coming up with a new way of folding napkins for use in fast-food restaurants. Beyond that, I haven’t really got a clue. Was he in the army? Did he fight in World War I? How did he and my grandmother meet? Those are some of the things I probably should’ve asked Mom about when she was alive, but they were also those things that when you’re younger you really don’t care about. I have no idea if my grandmother ever worked—or if she did, what exactly her profession had been. As far as I know, she was a homemaker for her entire life (as was pretty common for women of that generation).

Going back another generation, I have no knowledge of my great grandparents beyond what I’ve seen in old photographs. If you even ask me their names I couldn’t tell you without having to look it up somewhere. My great-grandfather (or perhaps it was his father) fled Germany because—as family legend has it—he shot a deer in the Kaiser’s forest and the penalty if he’d been caught was death.

I know even less about my paternal grandparents. I think my dad’s father was a cabinet maker and owned his own business for many years in Safford, Arizona. I have no idea if my grandmother did anything outside the home. Their parents? No clue whatsoever.

About thirty years ago I realized how woefully inadequate my knowledge of even my own parents’ lives had been, so I asked them both to write short autobiographies. Dad took to the assignment like a fish to water; Mom never did come through with her story. Dad’s revelations and secrets were enlightening and helped explain many major and minor mysteries of his life, but like so many things, his written story has gone missing and I’m left with only my own memories of what he’d transcribed.

I think this lack of proper passing-on-of-the-family-story explains both my folks’ interest in genealogy as they grew older. Curiously, at least at this point in my life I do not share that interest. Since my sister never had children, when she and I are gone it will be the end of the line for this particular branch of the family and no one will be asking who my folks—or their folks—were or what they did during their lives.

And also since I have no children, I’ve pretty much resolved myself to knowing that at some point after I’m gone—like so many people who have come before—all my photographs, art, and possessions will end up at the bottom of a landfill or as curiosities in second-hand stores, offering some rare personal glimpses into life in the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

That’s why the here and now is so important. It’s all we’ve got.

Just Because

Pointer Sisters: Fire/Happiness (12″ 45 rpm gold vinyl mix)
Brothers Johnson: Strawberry Letter 23 (12″ 45 rpm red vinyl mix)

Equalizer

Once upon a time, any audiophile worth his salt owned (or at least wanted) one of these beasts. The thought being that a graphic equalizer allowed control over the entire audio spectrum instead of just at the ends, as the more common bass and treble controls afforded. In theory it allowed you to tweak specific ranges of frequencies to achieve the desired “flat” (i.e. uncolored) response from your audio source. Alternately, you could use the equalizer to boost or reduce frequencies intentionally for effect.

It wasn’t until the early 2000s that I actually had an equalizer in my system, although not nearly as impressive as the one above. And you know, I found it to be a complete waste of money. Maybe it was my already-aging ears deceiving me, but I found nothing really needed a degree of tweaking that couldn’t be accomplished with the bass and treble controls on my receiver.

Funny, that.

Anyhow, I was thinking the other night how I wish there was some sort of equalizer for life; something that allowed you to fine tune those areas that needed a little help. Increase employment or employment satisfaction, boost income, decrease fear and anxiety.

Sadly, no such device exists, not even in the darkest recesses of eBay.

APPLE, FIX YOUR SHIT!

All I wanted to do was buy Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk and listen to it on my phone while I napped this afternoon.

But nooooooo! As is becoming more and more common, Apple was having none of it. The album was purchased and showing as downloaded on the phone, but where? It was nowhere; not under “recently added” or—god forbid—even under “Fleetwood Mac.”

This led me to say “FUCK IT,” and I got out of bed, giving up all thoughts of a nap.

On my Mac, Tusk was shown as available for download. So I downloaded it and plugged in my phone to sync.

Tusk still didn’t show up on the phone after the sync.  If that weren’t enough, for whatever fucking reason, all the album artwork on the phone disappeared as well—as has been happening with increasing regularity of late—and I’m getting really tired of it.

Because…

The only way to fix the missing artwork is to delete all the music from the phone (75GB worth) and then resync it. Do you know how long it takes to transfer 75GB over a USB connection?

Fuck, Apple…with each passing day you’re turning more and more into everything I hated about Microsoft, and it’s obvious you don’t give a shit. You’ve got more money than god and can live off the interest for the next thousand years, so why should you even?

I used to look forward to going to an Apple Store or receiving OS upgrades. Now I dread both experiences because I know at the store I’ll be met with attitude at best or insouciance at worst and OS Upgrades have become a question of “What is this going to BREAK?” (Much like it became with Windows.) Hell, I used to want to work for Apple, but no more!

Check Ignition and May God’s Love Be With You

RIP David Bowie, 1947-2016

Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (Five, Four, Three)
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you (Two, One, Liftoff)

This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You’ve really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare
“This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles
I’m feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much she knows
Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you “Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do.”

Rumour Has It

And this is the other original piece of vinyl that survived the purge: Donna Summer’s 1977 masterpiece, Once Upon a Time… This record holds a special place in my heart for several reasons, but mostly because of the very personal “once upon a time” quest for that special someone that a certain wide-eyed, newly-minted 19-year old gay boy and and his closest friends were going through at the time. (To this day, on I Love You, I distinctly hear Donna sing, “…and he wrapped him in his arms again…” though I know logically that even if she had flubbed up and sang that it would’ve been caught and corrected long before the record was even pressed.)

I remember the first time we heard “Rumour Has It/I Love You/ Happily Ever After” and “Now I Need You” on the dance floor; it was as if Donna was singing about us. And for many, many weeks, the DJ wouldn’t play these songs as part of his regular set during the evening, instead reserving them for the start of after hours when the lights and been turned back down and the mirror ball started glittering. They were always met with squeals of joy from the dance floor.

It was a balmy November afternoon when my friend and dance partner Kent and I ran down to Odyssey Records and bought this LP. I know the exact date only because I wrote it on the outer dust jacket, anticipating that it would be a special moment to remember. (And because Kent and I had already had several arguments over when specific records had come out.) We hadn’t yet heard the entire album, so when we got back to my house and played the entire 2-disk set, it was a magical experience. Afterward we played it again and then talked for hours on what it all meant; something I will never forget.

May the Force Be With You

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. This is one of only two LPs I kept when I sold my entire collection in the late 80s, bought new in the summer of 1977. And is actually the second copy of the record I purchased because I literally wore the original copy out. (I know this is the newer copy because of the graphic on the center label of the record. 20th Century changed it on all their pressings shortly after the movie was released.) And yes, getting rid of all my vinyl ranks right up there as one of the “Dumbest Things I’ve Ever Done In My Life” category.

But on the other hand, if I’d never gotten rid of the vinyl or my turntable back then, I might never have met the people or made the friends I have now through my quest to rebuild that collection, so I consider myself ahead.

Memories…

I ran across this online today while searching for something else. I had to pass it on.

You Lived in Phoenix in the 60s, 70s, and 80s If…

You remember when Bell Road (especially through Glendale) was the considered edge of civilization. There was nothing there but tumbleweeds and prairie dogs. Now, it’s where you go to run all your errands. Or if you were traveling eastbound on Bell Rd. the sign that said “Scottsdale- 21 miles.”

You needed to pack a lunch to drive to Sun City.

Your parents took you to Legend City, the only theme park in Phoenix.

Afternoons were spent watching The Wallace and Ladmo Show.*

You remember when Beardsley Road was a seldom traveled, two-lane blacktop. Now, it’s the eastbound frontage road for the Loop 101 freeway.

Before there was Target, there was Gemco. Now, most of the old Gemco stores are Targets.

You remember the original Cine Capri theater at 24th Street and Camelback. You also waited for hours in a line that wrapped around the building to see the original Star Wars there.

You remember stores like Yellow Front, Woolco, Newberry’s, McCrory’s, TG&Y, Fedmart, Sprouse Reitz, Wards and Yates.

You remember when Metrocenter Mall had an underground ice skating rink. Watching skaters from the overlook above was the best way to escape the summer heat.

Metrocenter also had a Farrell’s ice cream parlor. No Farrell’s trip was complete without getting to see two waiters run though the restaurant with a sundae resting on a stretcher, while lights and sirens whirred in the background. Sometimes, the ice cream would fall off the stretcher. Don’t forget the trip thru their candy store.

You were bummed when Farrell’s closed. The space was later occupied by ‘Round the Corner, a burger and sandwich place similar to Red Robin.

You saw a concert at Compton Terrace when it was attached to Legend City.

Your folks subscribed to the Phoenix Gazette (afternoon newspaper) and the Arizona Republic on Sunday.

You remember when the Brass Armadillo antique mall was Angel’s—a building supply warehouse similar to Home Depot.

You remember when you got your building supplies from O’Malley’s, Entz-White or Payless Cashways.

You remember when the Phoenix Suns were the only professional sports team in the state, and they played their games at Phoenix Memorial Coliseum.

Your groceries came from Alpha Beta, AJ Bayless, Basha’s, Lucky’s, Neb’s Market or Smitty’s. Smitty’s even had a little coffee shop attached to it. Smitty’s sold everything.

A night out consisted of family dinner at the Lunt Avenue Marble Club. Their French Onion Soup and deep fried mushrooms were the best. (I’m here to witness, let me tell you!)

You remember when eastbound I-10 ended at Dysart Road. In order to continue east, you had to take McDowell or Thomas Road 15 miles to I-17 and head south. I-10 started up again somewhere east of downtown.

You remember when the Chili’s at 20th Street and Camelback (recently demolished) was The Jolly Roger.

You ate breakfast at Sambo’s or Bob’s Big Boy.

You drove to Central and Thomas to have strawberry pie at Big Boy’s because it was a car hop and they brought it to your car.

You remember when most houses were built with carports instead of garages. Roofs were covered with wood shakes or asphalt shingles instead of stone tiles.

You remember home builder’s billboards that advertised interest rates of 5%.

Your aspirin and cough syrup came from Skagg’s, SuperX, Revco, Thrifty’s, or Drug Emporium.

Your shoes came from Buster Brown.

For cafeteria-style French Food, you went to Café Casino at 24th Street & Camelback.

For some of the best Mexican food in town, you went to La Cucaracha at 7th Street and Indian School.

You remember when CBS was on Channel 10, ABC was on channel 3, and channels 5 and 15 were independent. Now, CBS is on Channel 5, FOX is on Channel 10, ABC is on Channel 15, and Channel 3 no longer has a network affiliation. NBC and PBS are the only ones that stayed on their original stations (channel 12 and 8, respectively).

You accompanied your dad to the True Value Hardware store in Westown in hopes of getting to stop at Baskin Robbins afterward.

You shopped at Valley West Mall before it became a ghost town, and was ultimately torn down.

You shopped at Phoenix Spectrum Mall when it was known as Chris-Town. Broadway was on the east end and Montgomery Wards was on the west. In the 80s, the mall was extended south at the west end and Bullocks anchored the southwest end. The movie theater was on the second floor of the east end of the mall.

You remember when Park Central was actually a full-fledged mall. You bought clothes at Goldwaters and Diamond’s.

You woke up to Bruce Kelly in the morning on KZZP. Before that—Jonathon Brandmeier and his ‘loons!’

You remember Phoenix’s only real rock and roll stations were KRIZ and KRUX in the 1960s.

You rode the ‘Tico’ to Park Central.

You remember quality local programming like Open House with Rita Davenport or Sun Spots with Jan DiAtri.

You accompanied your dad to the LaBelle’s catalog showroom to buy your mom’s Christmas present and where you drooled over hi-fi equipment.

Before he was governor, you remember Evan Mecham as the owner of a Pontiac dealership in Glendale.

You remember when Castles-n-Coasters was known as Golf-n-Stuff.

You remember when the entire state of Arizona only had one area code. Now, there are three in the Phoenix area alone.

You remember when Scottsdale Fashion Square was an outdoor mall with Goldwater’s, Bullocks and Leonard’s luggage being the only stores.

You remember when Goldwater’s was bought out by Robinson May who was then bought out by Macy’s.

You remember when Diamonds was bought out by Dillards.

You remember when Diamonds box office was the only place to buy concert tickets.

You remember when it hit 99℉ and that was considered HOT.

You remember when Big Surf water park was the place to go to beat the heat. Then hitting the drive in theater to see movie across the street.

You remember when best ice cream was found at Thrifty’s Drug Store, where $0.85 cents would get you three scoops.

You remember when you wrote all your information down on a piece of paper and then your drivers license was mailed to you. It was very easy to change the 1968 to 1965 (because it was still in your hand writing) so that you could go to Devil House drinking because the drinking age was 19 years old.

You remember when you could go to Devil House for dancing after hours which was from 1am – 3am.

You remember going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show at midnight on Mill Ave.

You remember when 44th Street and Thomas was Thomas Mall.

You remember when 40th Street and Thomas was Tower Plaza, and there were a few people that climbed to the top and threaten to jump.

You remember when there was a canal at 48th.

If you are of a certain sexual orientation, you remember Miss Matty’s Attic, Maggies/HisCo Disco, The Connection, The Forum, and Hotbods.

You remember when driving up Pima Road and you could see for miles and miles because there was nothing east or north of Shea Blvd. And it was very dark and scary.

You remember when the only way to get to Shea Blvd. was thru Dreamy Draw Park and there weren’t any streetlights. Squaw Peak was the name of a mountain, not a highway.

You remember going to concerts at Graham Central Station because the band was not popular enough to fill Mesa Amphitheater.

You bought vinyl at Odyssey Records and Circles Records & Tapes. At circles you had to pass through what seemed like a hermetically sealed passageway to get to the classical section.

You lusted over high-end audio at Jerry’s Audio and Bruce’s World of Sound.

You remember Terminal 1 at Sky Harbor.

You remember Sky Harbor before it was Sky Harbor International.

You remember being able to go out on the observation deck above Terminal 2 to watch planes arrive.

You ate lunch at McDonalds on Central under actual golden arches (one of the original designs). A Big Mac cost 55 cents.

You got your hair cut at Long Hair Inc. and maintained it with Conceived By Nature Shampoo, Creme Rinse and Conditioner.

You and your family ate at Sirloin Stockade, Guggy’s, or Hobo Joes. If it was a very special occasion, you went to Beefeaters on Camelback.

The smell of orange blossoms permeating the air everywhere in the spring.

You bought model kits at Webster’s Hobby Shop and ate lunch at the lunch counter of McCrory’s in Uptown Plaza.

You remember KXTC Disco 92 and their silver mylar bumper stickers.

You remember when the Colonade was an actual enclosed mall, with Sears on the east end and Rhodes Department Store on the West.

You shopped at West Plaza. You bought your pool and backyard fun supplies at Paddock. You bought plastic models from Hobby Lobby (no affiliation to the current behemoth).

*My sister and I were actually on the show one afternoon after our names had been selected from cards we’d mailed in.

Oh. My.

Technics is back in the turntable business!

From The Verge:

The legendary Technics SL-1200 turntable has been a mainstay of the DJ scene for decades now, but the tanklike direct-drive turntable has also long had a quiet reputation for sound quality as well. And for the 50th anniversary of the SL-1200, Technics is releasing two new “Grand Class” models aimed at audiophiles: the aluminum-cased SL-1200G and the magnesium limited anniversary edition SL-1200GAE, of which only 1,200 will be produced.

Apart from the case, the new models all have new “high-dampening tonearm” and a “three-layered turntable,” which are words that audiophiles who buy a limited edition magnesium record player are sure to be excited about. There’s also a new microprocessor controlled direct-drive system which eliminates something called “cogging,” a scourge so terrible that Technics devotes a full paragraph to it in the press release. Here is that paragraph. Behold its majesty:

Direct drive turntable systems have been beloved by HiFi enthusiasts since their birth in 1972. However, one problem that direct-drive systems have always faced was sound quality degradation caused by ‘cogging’, or tiny vibrations of the motor and rotational speed fluctuations. However, by combining the knowledge and expertise gained as the originator of direct-drive turntable systems with a newly developed coreless direct-drive motor without iron core, this ‘cogging’ can be eliminated. Any potential minute motor vibrations are suppressed even further by high-precision rotary positioning sensors guided by a microprocessor controlled system; a feature unique to the new Technics turntable.

Vinyl record sales have been booming lately, so it’s not at all surprising that Technics is capitalizing on the SL-1200’s mystique here—we’re actually expecting to see a few high-end turntables at CES 2016. No word on pricing, but expect these to be crazy expensive when the 1200GAE arrives in summer and the 1200G hits late in the year. (Also, 50 years’ worth of SL-1200s are also available on eBay and Craigslist in virtually every city in the world, if you’re that impatient.)

While there are certain aesthetic aspects of the design I don’t agree with, I still peed myself a little bit when I saw this today.

So I Went to Zia Records Today

I wasn’t really intending to buy anything. I still need to flesh out a few dozen missing titles from my old collection that have eluded me, but the spreadsheet where I keep all that data is a mess and needs to be properly sorted before it will be of any on-the-go use to me.

First off, I was shocked—shocked, I tell you—at the price of new vinyl: $19.99~49.99. Seriously? I realize it’s making a comeback and there are still precious few pressing plants in operation, but still. $39.99 for Madonna’s latest?

Thankfully, the bins were overflowing with even more used vinyl at a very reasonable price point of  $2.99~5.99. Buying used is always a crap shoot because of the nature of the medium, however. You can visually inspect the records, but you can never tell how much actual gunk is hiding in the grooves until you play them.

While browsing, I ran across the above gem, Isao Tomita’s 1978 Bermuda Triangle on coral vinyl. It had no inner liner so I knew it was probably going to be a very noisy disk, but there was no way I was going to let this slip through my hands—especially when it was on that fabulous colored vinyl!

I owned this new (also on coral) back in 1978. You’ve got to remember that at that time electronic music in general was still something very new and the sound very modern. I was a huge Tomita fan, having fallen in love his application of electronic instruments to classical masterpiecesThis particular disk, however, was strictly of his own composition, and while it brings back a lot of good memories of that period in my life, parts of it sound very dated. A little STAR WARS here, a little E.T. The Extraterrestrial there, and some Prokofiev and Sibelius thrown in for good measure.

And as I feared, the record is very noisy, ironically sending me off on a search for a digital copy…

You Spin Me Round Like a Record

I seem to have rediscovered the joys of vinyl. It’s not like I ever stopped, but I would say conservatively that I’ve played more records in the last two weeks than I have during the last two years. I sensed that the format was making a comeback—especially among the next generation–but I had no idea of the actual extent of it until I started searching hashtags on Instagram, revealing a thriving, vibrant community of like-minded individuals.

This led me to other hashtags, revealing that not only is interest in classic hifi equipment alive and well, there are also many, many people out there who share my passion for the days when stereo equipment was built like tanks and made to last.

The Obligatory End of Year Post

As 2015 rapidly spins down into memory, I figured it was a time to take quick stock of the past year.

It’s been an interesting one, that’s for sure. I don’t think either Ben or I anticipated moving back to Phoenix—at least not this year—and yet that’s exactly what happened. I wish I could say it was a bittersweet departure from Denver, but I can’t. On the other hand, I also have no regrets about the past four years we spent there. We wanted an adventure, and that’s exactly what we got in Colorado.

As for the two resolutions I’d made a year ago, I managed to fulfill both of them. What a shock! I’ve taken a a lot more pictures than I did in 2014, and I got the hell out of DISH.

Now if only the next chapter in my employment saga would start, I’d be a happy guy.

In March, we visited Ben’s cousin and his partner in Atlanta, then drove to Columbia to spend a day with our friend John. At the end of May, we saw Bianca Del Rio’s Rolodex of Hate, and last month we saw Chris Hardwick’s Funcomfortable show.

Next year I’m looking forward to taking more photographs and seeing Donald Trump’s campaign (and by extension the entire republican slate) implode, wither and die. And then there’s the whole getting a job thing that needs to happen sooner rather than later.

A large winning lottery ticket would also be nice. But I guess we’d have to play in order to win…