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hummelberries · 2 years

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glee kids as the car i think they have

rachel: little two-door chevy sedan from the 90s, because her dads are loaded but they still thought her first car should be a cheap used car on principle. planned on getting her a nicer car once the chevy crapped out but it's still hanging on and she's emotionally attached to it at this point. her windshield shade is gold star print, she has three sets of seat covers, and the carpet is vacuumed. it has a cd player and a tape deck. her glove compartment full of music is alphabetized. "bernie" - short for bernadette.

finn: one of those SUVs that you have to climb into, with the step-up ledge on the side. it's huge, and it seems even bigger on the inside, but he loves it, because everything on a regular chassis had the steering wheel in his lap. it's pretty recent and he feels guilty that his parents spent so much money on him so he's a really careful driver, but the car is an absolute mess of laundry and trash until once every couple months rachel or kurt starts bitching at him about how disgusting it is. he didn't name it, but he calls it "buddy."

kurt: his baby, the navigator, of course, but hear me out - he has access to an auto shop, and he loves working with his hands. what if he had a project car? a rundown 60s lincoln continental that he bought from the scrapyard, because how dare they, sure it's falling apart and has moth-eaten seats but it's gorgeous, it just needs some love. he's made a moodboard for it complete with paint samples and fabric swatches for the carpet and the upholstery, and burt was there to hug him the first time he got it to run. "sweetheart" -- blaine's a little jealous.

blaine: bmw two-seater convertible. bright red with black-trimmed white leather interior. daddy's money, yeah, but blaine doesn't resent it -- he picked it all out himself. if his dad thought he could buy blaine's love, blaine could at least have some fun with it. it makes him feel like a badass, which was something he really needed after freshman year. dad called it a ladykiller car, but blaine's boyfriend seems to like it pretty well when they're parking. "desdemona."

quinn: a pastel green volkswagen beetle, the same car she's wanted ever since she was a little girl. a present from her parents. she keeps clothes folded in the back seat out of habit; there's a picture of puck holding beth taped to the dashboard, another one of sam's little brother and sister, and one of herself, santana, and brittany. there's a picture of the whole glee club clipped under the visor, and a bible and a half-empty pack of newports in the glove box. a cross necklace dangles from the rearview mirror. she never named it.

puck: bigass ford pickup truck that always smells like marijuana. there's pool chemicals in a box on the floor in the back and a skimmer in the bed, and there's a star of david sticker on the tailgate. the only other one has the logo for ac/dc. he's pretty bad about the laundry, too, and there's a pile of cds in the passenger seat that's half fallen off into the floor next to a can of dip that he always has to fumble for. there's a big dent in the left rear door from when he and finn were taking turns doing donuts in the school parking lot when they were fourteen and one of them ran into a streetlamp. puck swears it was finn. he has menthols in his glove box, too, even though he doesn't smoke cigarettes. the ashtray is only roaches and lipstick-stained filters. quinn doesn't mention it. "the puck-mobile."

santana: a wood-paneled station wagon that was a hand-me-down from one of her tias. it's old enough that the back seat seatbelts don't have cross-straps. the breaks are iffy and something's always rattling and she claims to hate it, but selectively does not hear when her mom tells her "we can get you a better car than that deathtrap, mija." there's a hula girl on the dash and the radio's preset to the channel brittany likes, lipsticks rolling around on the bench, and a charm of saint christopher from her abuelita stuck to the inside of one of the visors. there's pom-poms and one of brittany's stuffed animals in the backseat. "bitch" or "puta."

brittany: big old minivan. and she wanted a minivan, she picked it out herself. the dashboard, bumper, and back windshield are all covered in stickers of kittens and unicorns and rainbows; there's a cat bed on the floor of the passenger seat so she and lord tubbington can hang out. she has a pair of fuzzy dice over the mirror, along with a lei, a bi pride flag, and the first friendship bracelet she got back from santana. kurt helped her bedazzle the license plate frame and cried a little when she explained that the big heart magnet full of letters is the initials of everyone in glee club. "sparkles."

sam: his first car that his parents bought him back in kentucky was a truck, but that got repo'd along with everything else. he bought himself a discrete, practical four-door sedan, in black. its interior is perpetually coated in some amount of glitter, no matter how much he vacuums; he has two carseats in it, and half of the CDs he has are kidz bop and disney soundtracks. finn and puck ceremoniously hung a red solo cup from his rearview labeled "#6", and he keeps it there, taping the family photo carole took of him, finn, kurt, and burt to the other side. brittany calls it "other sparkles"; sam doesn't call it anything.

#yes i realize this is just my faves. and what about it #glee #glee headcanons #klaine #brittana #mypost*

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truck451 · 2 months

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I Am Saddened Over The Death Of Country Music Artist And Ford Truck Enthusiast Toby Keith

I am saddened over the death of Country Music Artist and Ford Truck enthusiast Toby Keith. One has to wonder what Toby Keith ever thought about the North American counterpart to the Ford Transit, the Ford Econoline/Club Wagon; and the parts that it has shared with the Ford F-Series Light-Duty Trucks since the late 1960’s (including the International Harvester/Navistar Diesel Engines). One also…

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juanmecanico · 4 months

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JHT5862S TRW AMORTIGUADOR Ford E-100 Econoline, Ford E-100 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford E-150 EconoliJHT5862S TRW es la marca líder a nivel mundial en diseño y producción de partes automotrices, siendo proveedor de las más prestigiosas armadoras automotrices. TRW, siempre buscamos nuevas y mejores formas de suministrar amrtiguadores que ofrezcan un viaje más tranquilo y seguro. La seguridad es nuestra maxima prioridad. Ford E-100 Econoline: 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983, Ford E-100 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983, Ford E-150 Econoline: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991, Ford E-150 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991, Ford E-200 Econoline: 1971 1972 1973 1974, Ford E-250 Econoline: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991, Ford E-250 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991, Ford E-300 Econoline: 1971 1972 1973 1974, Ford E-350 Econoline Club Wagon: 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991, Ford F-150: 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979, Ford F-250: 1972 1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 Ford E-100 Econoline: 1971 - 1983, Ford E-100 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 - 1983, Ford E-150 Econoline: 1975 - 1991, Ford E-150 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 - 1991, Ford E-200 Econoline: 1971 - 1974, Ford E-250 Econoline: 1975 - 1991, Ford E-250 Econoline Club Wagon: 1975 - 1991, Ford E-300 Econoline: 1971 - 1974, Ford E-350 Econoline Club Wagon: 1977 - 1991, Ford F-150: 1975 - 1979, Ford F-250: 1972 - 1986 Ford E-100 Econoline, Ford E-100 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford E-150 Econoline, Ford E-150 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford E-200 Econoline, Ford E-250 Econoline, Ford E-250 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford E-300 Econoline, Ford E-350 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford F-150, Ford F-250 https://zf.tecalliance-solutions.com.mx/articles/detail/JHT5862S Mirar JHT5862S TRW AMORTIGUADOR Ford E-100 Econoline, Ford E-100 Econoline Club Wagon, Ford E-150 Econoli

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seattlereddit · 5 months

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Our 1996 Ford Club Wagon high-top Van was stolen last night

https://www.reddit.com/r/SeattleWA/comments/17z48g9/our_1996_ford_club_wagon_hightop_van_was_stolen/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#seattle

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 6 months

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FLYLEAF Singer LACEY STURM To Release 'Kenotic Metanoia' Solo Album

FLYLEAF vocalist Lacey Sturm will release her sophomore solo album, "Kenotic Metanoia", on November 17, 2023. Preorders are available at this location.

As the official follow-up to her Billboard chart-topping debut album, 2015's "Life Screams", Sturm's latest effort offers a deeply personal look into a matured season of the singer's storied career.

"All these songs have been for my own heart," Lacey, who has been very open about her Christian faith, offers. "When David sings the Psalms, a lot of the time he's telling his soul what to do. That's me too in this: telling my soul, singing what I know to be true."

"Kenotic Metanoia" is defined by Lacey Sturm's distinctive scorching vocal tones, married with husband Josh Sturm's broiling guitar riffs.

"Kenotic Metanoia" will be available on all major streaming platforms and in physical format.

"Kenotic Metanoia" track listing:

01. Intro (My Heartbeat) (2:17) 02. State Of Me (3:14) 03. Are You Listening (4:07) 04. The Decree (4:14) 05. Terrible Mistake (5:44) 06. Wonderful (4:42) 07. A Man Needs A Maid (4:12) 08. Thief (3:12) 09. Not Your Fight (3:39) 10. Awaken Love (4:27) 11. Reconcile (3:55) 12. (I Died) (3:56) 13. Breathe With Me (feat. Lindsey Stirling) (4:57) 14. End The Wars (3:36) 15. Outro (My Heartbeat) (1:11)

FLYLEAF played its first concert with Sturm in 11 years on April 27 at Schoepf's BBQ in Belton, Texas.

FLYLEAF, which hadn't performed live since 2016 prior to the Belton concert, made its final festival appearance of this year at the Blue Ridge Rock Festival in September in Alton, Virginia.

Sturm left FLYLEAF in October 2012. She was replaced by Kristen May, who recorded one album with the group, 2014's "Between The Stars", before exiting.

In an interview with Ned of Iowa's Rock 108 radio station at this past July's Upheaval festival in Grand Rapids, Michigan, Lacey spoke about how she ended up reuniting with FLYLEAF for their first live shows together in more than a decade. She said: "Well, actually, my assistant that was on tour with us from the very beginning of FLYLEAF; we were called PASSERBY at that time. We were touring in an '88 Ford Club Wagon van, and we had a bunch of gear in the back with a mattress on top, and you could climb in there and sleep. She actually came on tour with us to be a stylist or a merch person — whatever we needed. She was with us from the beginning. So she got married. And we hadn't seen each other in, like, ten years, nine years, and so we all ended up at the wedding together. And that's how it started."

Sturm went on to say that her reunion with FLYLEAF came together in a "more organic" way than has been the case with some of the other high-profile band reunions in recent years. "I think it had to be that way," she said. "There were some offers for us to get back together, to do reunion shows, but we hadn't seen each other, and everybody has different lives, lots of children. So it didn't really make sense in those times, but because we were already connecting, we figured it out."

At several shows last year, Sturm joined SEETHER on stage to perform the FLYLEAF song "I'm So Sick".

#lacey sturm #Kenotic Metanoia #2023 news

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adventurerd1001980 · 6 months

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la historia de la dodge D100

D Series fue una línea de camionetas vendidas por la división Dodge del fabricante de automóviles estadounidense Chrysler, entre 1961 y 1980. Después de 1980, las camionetas pasaron a denominarse Dodge Ram y el mismo diseño básico se mantuvo hasta la introducción en 1994 de una carrocería completamente rediseñada. La D Series comparte su plataforma con el Dodge Ramcharger.

En Argentina, se fabricó la primera y segunda generación de la D Series y se las denominó como Dodge D-100. La empresa encargada de su fabricación, la Chrysler-Fevre Argentina S.A. tenía su predio en la localidad de San Justo y la vendió hasta 1979.

Historia

Chrysler Argentina, a comienzos de los años sesenta primeramente comienza a ensamblar la pick-up "D-100 Sweptlite", siguiendo con la producción de la D Series, ofreciendo el mismo producto con 3 marcas distintas, Dodge, Fargo y De Soto. En los comienzos de la importación de automóviles en Argentina, las agencias de ventas e importadores estaban divididos en dichas marcas, por este motivo se las comercializa de dicha manera para satisfacer las necesidades de los clientes fieles a las mismas. En 1967 se unifica con la marca Dodge y su fabricación se discontinúa a finales de la década de 1970.

Primera generación (1961-1964

El cuerpo ofreció la cama entonces tradicional de estilo a paso, con defensas distintas como una opción.1962 Dodge D-100

La serie D utiliza el conocido motor de Chrysler Slant-6 en desplazamientos de 170 pulgadas cúbicas, 198 pulgadas cúbicas, y 225 pulgadas cúbicas como los modelos base, dependiendo del año. (El 198 era relativamente raro, disponible como el motor de base única 1969-1973.) Todos los motores más grandes de Chrysler, con la notable excepción del motor Chrysler Hemi estaban disponibles como opciones de fábrica.

Otra innovación fue la introducción de un alternador en lugar de un generador de energía eléctrica. Una transmisión automática de tres velocidades fue un gran avance, aunque también estaba disponible la transmisión de dos velocidades automática, de la época pasada.

Sin embargo, otra innovación, una "doble cabina" (cuatro puertas) estilo de la carrocería se introdujo en 1963, por primera vez en una camioneta de la fábrica. Eran trabajos de conversión personalizados. Un "club Cab" también estaba disponible para 1973, proporcionando el asiento transversal, ya sea para una sola tercer pasajero o dos pequeñas pasajeros de la tercera y cuarta (más a menudo, el Club Cab fue utilizado como espacio de carga adicional).

La primera generación de la serie D en Argentina. Se les dio las marcas Dodge y Fargo, como de Dodge D-100 y Fargo De Soto. Los camiones fueron producidos por la filial argentina de Chrysler-Fevre Argentina SA.

Segunda generación (1965-1971)

1966 Dodge D-100

La serie D-Series fue rediseñado para 1965. Las actualizaciones incluyen un portón trasero más ancho y la sustitución de los motores de la serie A con la serie actualizada. En 1967, los camiones de la Serie D recibidos de bloque grande 383 motores como una opción estándar.

Desde 1965 hasta principios de los años 80, la serie D se reunieron por el Equipo de Grupo Automotriz en Israel en una nueva fábrica situada en Nazaret, cuatro años y -seis motores de gasolina con transmisión manual. Esta fábrica también produjeron el Jeep Wagoneer SUV por el ejército israelí, y los vehículos Reino Unido Ford Escort y el Ford Transit para el mercado civil. La Serie D se realizaron tanto para el mercado civil y por el ejército israelí. Los modelos fueron D100 y luz D200 camiones, camiones D500, y el camión D600 con motor de seis cilindros en línea y con tracción a las cuatro ruedas. También hubo una versión de autobuses hecho (sobre todo para el uso del ejército). Este autobús era un bus de 20 asientos construido en el chasis del camión D500 con cuatro puertas, motor hidráulicos delantero y trasero.1971 Dodge D-100

Los modelos 1968 recibieron un nuevo frente de la parrilla y dos filas de cuatro hoyos cada uno. Un nuevo paquete de ajuste Aventurero sustituyó a la antigua; básicamente, se incluyó un asiento delantero acolchado con ajuste de vinilo y alfombras, además de otras características como el acabado de cromo extra y la iluminación de cortesía. Esta generación continuó siendo construido en Sudáfrica también. Se vende como la D300 o la D500, el modelo más ligero recibido el 225 Slant-Six, mientras que el D500 usaba el motor Heavier-Duty y el V8 318 ci. Salidas de potencia de 127 y 177 CV (95 y 132 kW).

Para 1970, el aventurero se ampliará en tres paquetes separados: el aventurero base, el aventurero deporte y la línea superior Aventurero SE. El Aventurero SE incluye cosas tales como una parrilla cromada, el ajuste de madera en el salpicadero, el asiento delantero de vinilo acolchado con cinturones de seguridad de color de la carrocería, iluminación de cortesía completa, aislamiento extra, cuernos duales, alfombrado completo, panel de la puerta de lujo del ajuste, un relieve de vinilo moldura corrída a lo largo de los lados de la camioneta, discos de ruedas completo y un panel de madera insertada en el portón trasero. Los modelos 1970 también contó con una nueva sección de cuatro rejilla (dos filas de dos agujeros cada uno).

Tercera generación (1972-1980)

1972 Dodge D-200 Crew Cab

Un nuevo diseño de la Serie D de 1972 que duró hasta 1980 presentó un aspecto más redondeado, similar a la serie GM C / K 1973 hasta 1987. Este rediseño de la tercera generación, que se extendió hasta 1993 con cambios menores, incluido nuevas características tales como una suspensión delantera independiente y luces traseras embolsados (la inversa distintiva en luces superiores se rebajada a 0,25 in (6,4 mm) para evitar daños en los muelles de carga y espacios confinados). Guías de estilo, como el capó festoneado y guardabarros redondeados, fueron similares para el buen aspecto redondeado, del 1971 Plymouth satélite. Estos camiones fueron construidos con una cantidad considerable de acero galvanizado para resistir la oxidación y la corrosión que los hace muy durable. Debido a esto, hoy en día estas camionetas se utilizan para hacer grandes proyectos de restauración.

En 1971, Dodge introdujo su "estilo de vida", camionetas, diseñado para satisfacer las necesidades de las familias que los utilizan principalmente para remolques de vacaciones. Fue duro, pero cómodos en el interior y no demasiado difícil de conducir. Una opción popular fue el deslizamiento en el cuerpo de campista (Dodge no se ha vendido el cuerpo, pero se ha vendido un paquete de opciones que les hizo más fácil de instalar y usar).1978 Dodge D-100 Custom

Dodge fue pionera en la camioneta de cabina extendida con la introducción del Club Cab con los modelos 1972. En 1972, (1973 en Canadá) fueron las Cab Club, para llevar a la gente con más comodidad, o para almacenar equipo de valor dentro del camión, seguro y fuera del tiempo. Tim Vincent escribió: "La única diferencia que he encontrado hasta la fecha [en el Club y la cabina regular] es la forma en las perchas frontal están conectados a la estructura, en lugar de remaches, tornillos que sostienen que hay en la percha principal. Esta fue una cabina de dos puertas con pequeñas ventanas traseras que tenían más espacio detrás de los asientos que la cabina estándar, pero no tan largo como el de cuatro puertas Crew Cab. Para 1972 también vio la introducción de las 440 pulgadas cúbicas V8 motor utilizado como una opción para la camioneta. "El Club Cab había asientos transversales para un tercer pasajero (o dos pasajeros pequeños).

El 1972 la D-series se hizo famoso en el programa de televisión de Emergencia !, donde estaba el vehículo patrulla de rescate paramédico destacado de todos los siete temporadas de la serie popular.1978 Dodge D-200 Adventurer

Modelos notables producidos durante esta época fueron el desde 1978 hasta 1979 Li'l Red Express, Warlock, la Power Wagon Macho, el Macho Power Wagon Top Mano, Macho Power Wagon Palomino, y el aventurero (adventurous). Los colores de Dodge Power Wagon Macho Palomino fueron los mismos que un Palomino. (Nota: Todas Li'l Red Express, eran aventureros, aunque no a la inversa).

Los modelos 1978 también se vio la introducción del primer motor diesel de Dodge pickup. Disponible como una opción económica en los camiones ligeros fue 6DR5 4.0 L 6 cilindros en línea diesel de aspiración natural de Mitsubishi, valorado en 105 CV (78 kW) a 3.500 rpm, y ~ 230 N · m (~ 169 libras · pie) en 2200 rpm. El diesel usado manual estándar Dodge y transmisiones automáticas a través de la placa adaptadora especialmente hecho que tenía el patrón de pernos LA V8. Esta opción de fábrica raro, código VIN H, fue el resultado de la crisis de combustible y la colaboración de Chrysler y Mitsubishi. El motor, mientras que ser digno de confianza y que tiene mucho mejor economía que cualquier otro motor en la alineación de Dodge en el momento, sufrió desde su salida de potencia baja y fue considerado para ser el poder suficiente para los estándares americanos, a pesar de que se utilizó anteriormente en el japonés 3,5 toneladas Mitsubishi T44 Júpiter y en aplicaciones industriales. Debido a las bajas ventas que fue eliminado rápidamente.

Dodge Ram (1981-1994)[editar]

1985 Dodge Ram1981-1990 Dodge Ram

Esta generación final fue de cara levantada en 1981, cuando la D-Series se le denominó como la camioneta Dodge Ram Lee Iacocca se hizo cargo de Chrysler Corporation. Tales cosas, incluyendo un nombre grabado en relieve "DODGE RAM" en el portón trasero, junto con otros cambios obvios como la parrilla y el capó, las luces traseras, y todo el interior. Más sutil fue la adición de una línea de "hombro" que recuerda a la competencia de GM. Comenzando en 1981, se utilizó incluso más acero resistente a la corrosión en la construcción de los camiones. Este estilo de la carrocería se mantuvo hasta 1994, y muchos de estos vehículos están todavía en el camino. Muchos paneles de la carrocería son intercambiables para todos los modelos a partir de 1972 a 1994, por lo que no es raro ver a un "híbrido" con, por ejemplo, una rejilla de 1978 montada con una capucha 1974. A veces, la cama se intercambia con una caja de estilo de camión en movimiento para los modelos como estos. En la mayoría de las jurisdicciones, el año es dictado por el año del chasis del camión, independientemente del cuerpo que ha sido atornillado a la misma. También mantuvo fue el modelo stepside Utiline que tenía la misma plataforma del camión que se remontaba a la década de 1940. Así lo dejó caer durante esta última época de los W / D camiones Dodge.1991-1993 Dodge Ram

Se ofreció un rango más estrecho de motores: la central de base era las 225 pulgadas cúbicas (3,7 L) de inclinación-6, ahora con-top alimentado empujadores hidráulicos y las 318 pulgadas cúbicas (5,2 L) y 360 pulgadas cúbicas (5,9 L) LA-serie V8. La inclinación-6 fue suplantado por el 3.9 L (237 cu in) V6 para 1988; en 1992 y se convirtió en el V8 motores Magnum. El 6BT 5.9 L (360 cu in) 12-Válvula de motor diesel Cummins Serie B se convirtió en una opción en 1989.

Las ventas fueron buenas durante la era Sweptline y hacia finales de 1970. Una combinación de estilo estancada casi dos décadas de antigüedad, más lealtad a la marca principalmente a Chevrolet y Ford durante los años 1980 y 1990 redujo el volumen de ventas de la primera generación de Dodge Ram. Un totalmente nuevo Dodge Ram fue lanzado para el modelo del año 1994.

Motor

2,8L 6L Slant-6 (101 Hp / 75 kW).

3,2L 6L Slant-6 (125 Hp / 93 kW)

3,7L 6L Slant-6 (145 Hp / 108 kW)

4,5L V8 (187 Hp / 139 kW)

5,2L V8 (140 hp / 100 kW)

5,2L V8 (160 Hp / 119 kW)

5,9L V8 (180 Hp / 134 kW)

6,3L V8 (258 Hp / 192 kW)

6,6L V8 (200 Hp / 149 kW)

7,0L V8 (365 Hp / 272 kW)

7,2L V8 (235 Hp / 175 kW)

#mopar #dodge #HEMI

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thewestern · 7 months

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Chapter 16

Driving back over the bridge, the murky brown water beneath was running low and slow to merely a trickle. When they were just a couple of pequenitos, Kitty and her brother used to splash about in the backwater pools of that pathetic excuse for a waterway. Little kids still played there but Kitty thought they were loco to do so. Que agua tan sucia. What with the discarded rubbish — bottles, cans, syringes — bobbing downstream. The poor children — los hijos pobres — wading in gore. Some Monday evenings she would join the Newfy Run Club for a jog along the pedestrian pathway that ran parallel to the westernmost bank, the length of downtown. For their part, the NRC had about a five-kilometer loop, starting and ending at the green awning. There was the option to stretch the route to ten kilometers, although Kitty seldom did. She ran two years of cross country at West High, but even then running was something she could only tolerate. And only to a point. Never one past some threshold of fatigue and pain into one supposedly of euphoria. Runners’ High. As if. Then again, the serial marathoner types in the Monday-night crew sure seemed to be getting off on something. Likely of their own supply. Jogging amongst hobbyists the likes of Kitty, they fancied themselves to be Endurance Athletes. What a bunch of sickos. Fitness tracking every step they took, every breath, every heartbeat. All kitted out in the latest in moisture-wicking synthetic fabrics. Meanwhile Mick’s hand-me-down NFBC tees, which Kitty wore exclusively for exercise and sleep, seemed designed specifically to be moisture-absorbent. Particularly in that heathered gray color, which accentuated the outline of your perspiration just so. Like a Rorschach test of boob sweat. To match, not unlike Michael Jordan, Kitty still hoarded her thread-bare shorts from high school, team-issue, with the little block arrow running through the WHCC, although she’d been meaning to toss those. They were looking a little ratchet, in her words (that she pronounced in the French, ra_shay). Maybe then this Christmas she’d ask Mick for new workout clothes.

The bridge was built a good ways up there, high enough to accommodate any underpassing vessel, ironically. Reason being, back when the city was just a tinpan camp for dusty old prospectors, the major land-havers and other boosters would print up these brochures for sending back east, hyping up the city as a desirable frontier destination. A Pearl on the Plains. Good quality of life, great schools, etc. As for its viability as a hub for commerce, since transcontinental rail didn’t exist yet, one of the main selling points was this river that passed right through town. Their copy claimed it was quite a a strong current indeed, as wide, or even wider in stretches than the Mighty Mississipp’. In no time at all there’d be a veritable armada running up and down-stream, shipping all manner of pelts, hides and other wares.

Well that was a fucking lie. Water wasn’t hardly deep enough to accommodate Hank’s kayak, never mind Steamboat fucking Willie. Hell, it was shallow enough Kitty could probably ford that sorry excuse for a creek in her station wagon. Like that old computer game she could vaguely remember playing in the computer lab, where she would seclude herself most recesses. Everyone in your party has died, the screen’d say in that eight-bit font when your simulated river crossing failed, either on account of the riverbed was too muddy and you got stuck, or maybe you tried to float it, but the wagon was overloaded with supplies and it capsized. Could have been any number of reasons how come you and your people came to perish, never mind whether it were you made it to t’other side of that crick. Dysentery and cholera being chief among them. That means shitting yourself to death, basically. But also there was typhoid, measles, getting bit by a snake. For a fact, one in ten of those folks who set off on that westbound trail didn’t make their destination. Hey, speaketh of which, you ever have that funny feeling that you want to swerve off the side of a bridge, crashing through the guardrail, airborne just long enough to reckon with the fact of you’re falling, have that awful, albeit life-affirming sensation of your stomach lurching its way up out of your throat, the one you only get on top of a rollercoaster or before your first kiss in the planetarium; to have that feeling one final time, before your station wagon hits the water, slamming against the surface tension like it’s a fucking brick wall, killing you instantly on impact of blunt force trauma or a spinal cord rupture, or at least knocking you unconcsious to the extent that you drown comparatively peacefully, or preferably, so that you may go out in a blaze of glory, and since the water here is hardly deep enough anyway, the car explodes into a massive fireball upon the jagged rocks below?

Yea, Kitty neither.

Zeke was likewise looking out over the bridge, just thinking. It bears mention that this was no average bridge. It was a brand-spanking new suspension bridge the city had just erected. (Just a few short years after civil engineers had determined its predecessor to be on the verge of collapse.) This as part of a massive transportation infrastructure, overhaul funded through Mayor Mockingbird’s public bond package, the signature (and sole) legislative achievement of his first term. That was what he ran on. More bridges, tunnels, lanes and roads. For to get you to work more faster. Zeke too. About on the hour, almost every hour, right over top of this great big new bridge, this monument to the Mayor’s executive virility, traveled the Number Ten bus. Of all the five busses he took in total getting to and fro the brewery, The Ten was the by far sketchiest. Maybe because it emanated from the downtown station — a central gathering place for fringe types. But also because the bus itself was old and sad and decrepit. All the seat cushions — if you could call them that, they were so worn down — had been upholstered in a very seventies plaid, of whose crisscrossing colors — oranges, yellows and browns — had faded underneath god only-knows how many coats of fermented bodily fluids. (Perhaps that was how come they chose that rather unfortunate palette. For to camouflage the phlegm.) On that leg of the commute, Zeke elected to stand.

Hitching a ride in Kitty’s car then was far more comfortable. Even if the back seat was considerably cramped for a fella his size, it was still downright spacious when compared to the Ten Bus at rush hour. Good thing then he rode mostly during off-peak times, although his fellow passengers on the pink eye could be a somewhat poorly lot. Grace’s recent antics notwithstanding, this was a much more civilized traveling party. Nobody was using Kitty’s station wagon as a toilet, for example. Although by now she was getting damn close. She’d have used the bathroom unit on the way out of #x_brüing but the line was still too damn long. Mick about pissed himself just looking at it, and he hadn’t even had to go.

Come to think of, Zeke had noticed Kitty was driving a fair bit faster on the return trip. Although with her lead foot, he was in capable hands. Always at ten and two, pulling up to school at precisely ten of eight and not a moment sooner. Partly because the Mick would often make a big production out of breakfast — steel cut oatmeal garnished with seasonal berries and nuts, five-cheese omelets with garden-fresh veggies and hand-foraged mushrooms, fucking challah bread french toast and bacon. The latter or some other confection only on occasions that he deemed to be special. Not an especially high bar to clear. An average Tuesday could qualify if he’d been as such inclined.

Burning rubber into the faculty lot with a belly full of eggs benny, Kitty couldn’t help but notice all the fancy foreign cars. How in the world could her colleagues possibly afford these on a teacher’s salary? Was she managing her and Mick’s money poorly? Were they spending too much on breakfast foods? Now she was feeling self-conscious. And doubly so, she was feeling self-conscious About feeling self-conscious. That was a feeling she felt all too increasingly of late. Get a grip, girl. Who cares? Probably they had significant others who were doctors or lawyers or something. Multi-car families. Zeke had always been in a zero-car family, unless you count his uncle’s panel van that he split with his brother for going on jobs. On the side, they printed DRYWALL, above a number for a beeper, which they also shared.

Zeke’s phone buzzed.

From: Mayor Lawrence Mockingbird for Governor ([email protected])

Subject: I Need You [Pointing emoji]

Preview: Yes, Ezekiel. I need You. You specifically …

Whoa. Wait a second. For a moment there Zeke really thought the Mayor was reaching out to personally seek his council on a matter of urgent city business. Something so important that he used his given name. Then he opened the email and right there at the top was a big blue button marked Click to DONATE. Turned out to be an invitation to an upcoming Young Professionals fundraiser at #x_brüing. Zeke didn’t much consider himself a young professional. For one thing, he hadn’t conducted a lot of official business on this his work email. Really he hardly received any messages at all, unless of course you counted Thadeus and Louisa copying the entire Newfy staff plus Kitty on their interminable back-and-forth thread of idle threats, essentially an online extension of their IRL quarreling, annotated with hyperlinks to viral videos of backyard bare-knuckle boxing matches and people being attacked by wild animals.

All which begs the question, why would the mayor ask Zeke for money? He didn’t have any. Like didn’t he — the mayor — know the second richest person in the world? He should hit up that guy.

It was for this reason that the Mick was most happy to pass his old new phone down to Zeke. That he hated having correspondences delivered to his pocket. All the day long, it would tremor at his right hip. The lawyers. The contractor. The bank. The lawyer again, reaching out on behalf of the contractors, cc’ing the bank. The detective from the Parks Service. The Council of Brewers. (D-d-d-douchebags.) The lawyer, two more times. Everybody wants something he doesn’t got.

And all these inbound inquiries to his work address, the mick at newfybrew dot com, those weren’t even counting the emails related to his actual job. Although those he could mostly ignore with reckless abandon. The obscure brewing industry vendors shamelessly attempting to upsell the latest and greatest in craft beer innovation. Are you getting the absolute most out of your glycol chilling units? Have you serviced your brewing equipment with the highest-performance food-grade lubricants? What does malt Mean to you? Not exactly the questions that keep you up at night.

However, even if the electronic solicitations were only a minor nuisance, the reviews … well, those he did lose sleep over. Oh, how he hated the fucking reviews. If the Mick could rate reviews, he would give them zero stars. Fervently he believed that one day we would all reflect on them — these online reviews — as something we wish we could un-invent, paraphrasing Nicholas Cage in his favorite movie, The Rock.

(As justification for the United States invading Iraq [this for the second time … unlike The Rock, Desert Storm — the far inferior Michael Bay movie — got a sequel], Bush Administration officials cited intelligence reports that Sadaam Hussein was rapidly accelerating a chemical weapons program. Among their expanding capabilities was said to be a skin-melting gaseous agent, packaged in spherical glass containers that were strung together like killer Christmas lights. Turns out, not only did all the Intelligence about that camel fucker’s supposed arsenal of WMDs turn out to be totally bogus, but that specific fantasy about the anal beads filled with flesh-eating gas … well that was taken straight from a Hollywood film: The motherfucking Rock, starring none other than Nic motherfucking Cage.)

Let‘s for a second consider the personal ramifications of these Reviews, from the Mick’s perspective. Okay. So every time some dickhead wanders into the bar and has even a modicum of an opinion about his or her experience — be it positive, or let’s be honest, it was definitely negative — he or she may now dictate that proto-though, stream of fucking consciousness, into the Cloud, wherefrom instantaneously thereafter it is beamed from that person’s fat fingers, off a satellite somewhere in goddamn outer space, back down to wherever on planet earth the Mick happened to be at that given moment, quite often on the the toilet, at which point his mobile phone would begin to seizure uncontrollably, alerting him via email notification settings that he does not know how to modify.

Then the Mick is rendered this review, a final judgement that is arrived at through no semblance of due process, nor is it subject thereafter to any appellate procedure. Nonetheless, it ascribes to him a numeric rating which is inscribed on the Internet in digital ink for all time. A jury of your peer has found you guilty on two counts of felony pouring too much foam, and three counts of it being too loud in here. The honourable judge Doug F. of Sacramento sentences you to one of five stars. [Bangs gavel.]

Having that hanging over your head at all times … well, it was existential dread-inducing, even for the most self-assured of service industry professionals.

Funnily enough though, it was the rare positive feedback that would really get his goat, even moreso than the garden variety vitriol. Regarding the latter, it was easy to be dismissive. Like, fuck ‘em, you know? Bunch of entitled assholes. You’re a one-star person. How do you like that?

(You might expect Thadeus and Lousia to have received their fair share of unfavourable reviews. Not the case. They were merely ever mentioned. The Mick thought it was for fear of retribution.)

But, as for the positive feedback, the full-throated recommendations, the unabashed praise … well, that was something else entirely. Something which the Mick could never quite get his head around. Like, what’s your angle? Were you so blown away by the Black Hole Imperial Stout (the Mick wanted to call it Horse Fucker, after Catherine the Great, but Hank would not abide despite also his being a history buff), and the atmosphere in which you consumed it, to the extent you felt compelled to crank out five hundred words? What, on the transcendence of that experience? Why, exactly? Out of the goodness of your heart? For the civilizing arts of commerce? Sorry, bud. I don’t buy it. Say what you will about the morality of our American tipping culture. But, hey, that’s cash in my pocket. U.S. dollars, kimosabe. Your money spends. Your opinions? Opinions are like assholes, Cliff used to say. And this time the Mick remembered why. Because everybody’s got one. Yep.

The worse he was for it, the Mick read every solitary last one of those reviews. He’d drop whatever he was doing too to do so. When he had that phone, with the email on it? Forget about it. He could be lain wide awake next to Kitty in their marital bed, her dreaming peacefully, him getting all the wrong kinds of riled up, scrolling like there’d be no tomorrow. Then after that you know he couldn’t fall back asleep for fuck all, so he’d have to digitally detox himself. For that he liked reading the show reviews on the online forum, phish dot net … get it? Now you’re thinking, what makes these reviews any better than t’others? He couldn’t tell you why. Just that he liked these ones.

He never could bring himself to post his own, though, for the handful of shows he had attended in person. The Mick (username: llambic1900) was what you would call a Lurker in the parlance of message board culture. He would read these cryptic entries and feel somewhat apart, even though he knew all the etymology, the historiography, the symbology,— all of the -ologies, of which these forums were chalk fucking full. For better or for worse, that was a big part of being a Phish fan. Homework. Have you done the reading? Just kidding. Because life’s this big cosmic joke. But it’s an inside joke. And you get it, man. You do.

Whereas, and pardon the generalization here, a Grateful Dead fan looked at life like this big cosmic mystery. Sure, there were laughs along the way, but this shit was serious. No fucking clever puns, cryptid clues in a Sunday show crossword puzzle. Rather, it was a magic riddle. And only in listening layeth the answer. The truth that would gain you passage to the other side.

Anyways, that was one thing he missed not having on the old flippy phone. Reading Phish reviews in bed. Raging against the blue light as it strained his tired eyes. Also, it was convenient, being able to look up the weather. And getting directions to places on the GPS. That’d been handy. Lately he had to go back to printing them off Hank’s computer, which now seemed burdensome beyond belief.

Currently, on the car ride back from his do-si-do with Dandy Jim (no need for maps — didn’t matter where in the world he was, he knew the way back to the brewery by heart, like a lost dog finding his way home), the Mick was cleansing his ear pallet from that Frankenstein’s fucking monster of a mashup. Good thing he had just the sonic sorbet: Phish. 2010 Late Summer Tour. 6 August 2010, William Randolph Hearst Greek Theater, Berkeley. Help me, oh kee pah. You’re my only hope. Kitty always got a kick out of the way he would carry his CD binder and brewer’s notebook back and forth between the bar and her station wagon, like the old car stereos you would remove from the dash to prevent their being stolen. When they made a pit stop he was dillegent about hiding them beneath the passenger seat. Imagine a desperate car thief’s surprise, upon smashing out the passenger’s side window to this absolute beater, to find a decade’s-worth of beer recipes and twice that’s-worth of concert bootlegs.

Including Phish at the Greek, the subject of eleven show reviews posted to the online forum. One prolific poster, known by the username, waxbanks (criticism =/= cynicism, or so his bio reads), writes:

Yes, Trey absolutely *butchers* the Ghost > Mike's 'transition,' pointing to a worrying trend in Phish's music, an apprehensiveness or impatience on Trey's part, far removed from the patient and generous playing throughout the rest of the show. The sudden insertion of Mike's Song into the winning Ghost jam is a clunker on par with the 2009 Hartford DWD > Wilson. Ugh. But the rest of the second set approaches perfection. And you can't get There without passing through the points between There and Here…

Fuckin' a.

Not unlike Trey in the first part of the second set, something was definitely off with Kitty. That much the Mick could tell. There had been since everything popped off yesterday. That could explain things. She corrected him when he brought up Hank’s Funeral at the breakfast table, where her Belgian waffle was getting cold.

It’s not a funeral because there is no Hank. And because it’s at a bar.

So what? We got married in a bar, Mick thought. That bar, actually. But he didn’t start, and off she went to school. Hank had always said they didn’t fight enough, that fighting was a healthy part of relationships, within reason. But then again what did he know.

Maybe it was that her new job had something to do with it. Kind of got the feeling the bloom was falling off the rose on that one. Even before accepting the offer, she was acting unsure of herself in a very uncharacteristically Kitty way, about leaving West. Of course he was supportive, but the way they talked about it, Mick got the impression that she wanted something more out of him. Like permission. Or was it the opposite? That he would forbid her from taking this great opportunity at the fancy new school with a modest increase in pay. Why she would desire either was a mystery to him.

Suppose then of course he could fucking well ask, suggests Hank’s ghost, getting in people’s business beyond the fucking grave.

In any event, they hadn’t made it anywhere’s near the second set. Unless you were on some kind of road trip, in the car you were lucky to finish one, maybe two songs, traffic pending. Keep in mind these are ten, fifteen, twenty-minute opuses we’re talking about here. No fucking top forty radio edit. Don’t bore us, get to the chorus? Get lost. For a fact, these aren’t even songs. Not in that way. They’re more like maps … to buried treasure. Fucking ancient scrolls. It’s no wonder then fans treat them like scholarly texts, worthy of being categorized and analysed. When Rome inevitably burns, these natural histories will be all that remains.

Of track five, the one they were enjoying at present, username Jmart exclaims to posterity: this jam is the shit … one of my absolute favorites from Three-Point-Oh.

The Mick wouldn’t trifle with that assessment one bit.

Did I forget to mention, to mention Memphis

Home of Elvis and the ancient Greeks

Do I smell? I smell home cooking

It's only the river, it's only the river.

Grace slept.

#novls of tumblr #the rock

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merlinband-archive · 9 months

Text

The Merlin File

Source: Melody Maker

Date: Late 1974

From my own collection

(Transcript Below)

The MERLIN File

EVOLUTION: Merlin’s manager, Derek Chick, and Allan Love decided in May 1973 to form a new London-based group that would incorporate three basic essentials: musicianship, image and stage presentation. After extensive auditions and rehearsals the band was gigging by July under the name Madrigal, which was changed in February 1974 to Merlin.

PERSONNEL CHANGES: Jacob Magmusson (keyboards) left in October 1973 and Paul Taylor (bass) in September 1974.

ORIGIN OF NAME: Scully Wagon-Lit’s idea in the van going to a gig.

FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE: Zero 6, Southend, 17/July/1973.

FIRST BROADCAST: BBC Radio One David Hamilton Show and Radio Luxembourg Power Play consecutively in March 1974.

FIRST TELEVISION: Scottish TV’s Showcase in November 1973.

MANAGEMENT: Derek Chick, Chic’s Own Music and Management Ltd, 246/248 Great Portland Street, London W1 (01-381 6192/3).

AGENT: Barry Collings Agency Ltd, 15 Claremont Road, Westcliff-on-Sea, Essex (0702-47343/43464).

RECORDING COMPANY: CBS Records Ltd, 28-30 Theobalds Road, London WC1 (01-242 9000).

RECORD PRODUCER: Roger Greenaway.

MUSIC PUBLISHING COMPANY: Shapiro, Bernstein and Co Ltd, 246/248 Great Portland Street, London W1 (01-387 6192) and Grenyoco Music Ltd, 108 Park Street, London W1 (01-493 6439).

FAN CLUB: Ling, 17 Gladstone Park Gardens, Cricklewood, London NW2.

BRITISH TOURS: 47 dates 1/March-28/April/1974 Top Rank ballrooms, clubs and colleges. Solo tour.

AMERICAN TOURS: None.

TRANSPORT: Ford DO607 3-ton truck for the equipment and Audi 100 for the group.

STAGE MANAGERS: Iain Ward (Sound Engineer), Chris Taylor (Lighting Engineer), “Speedy” (Stage Roadie), “Crystal” (Assistant Lighting Engineer).

SINGLES: “(Let Me) Put My Spell On You” c/w “Just ANother Fish On My Hook (CBS, 1/March/1974), "Alright” c/w “Pictures In My Mind” (CBS, 28/June/1974), “Wild Cat” c/w “Half A Man” (CBS, 1/Nov/1974).

ALBUMS: “Merlin” (CBS, 25/Oct/1974).

P.A.: 1400-watt JBL system comprising Kelsey 16-channel stereo custom mixer, 4 x DC3000 Crown amps, 4 x bass bins with 2 x 15 inch JBL speakers in each, 2 x mid range JBL horns, 2 x high-frequency JBL boxes with lens horns, two bullets. Microphones are 8 Sure Unidyne III 545, 2 AKG 190C, one AKG D12, 4 Calrec condensers, 4 Sims Watts condensers, 3 Sure Unisphere B. Binson Echorec and Mavis 3-way active stereo crossover with stage boxes, cables, etc. Lighting comprises 6 x 100 watt Strand Floods on stage, 30 x 200 watt Strand Floods on stage scaffolding, 3 x Strand 1,000-watt follow spots and stands, 2 x Strobes and a Strand dimmer board.

ALAN LOVE: Vocalist

BORN: Hampsted, North West London. 13/Dec./1952.

EDUCATED: Challoner School, Finchley, North London.

MUSICAL TRAINING: None.

MUSICAL CAREER: Has been professional for seven years, playing in Opal Butterfly from 1967 to 1969 with Simon King (Hawkwing) and Tom Doherty (Sting). Referendum from 1969 to 1973 and Madrigal/Merlin from 1973.

OTHER OCCUPATIONS: None.

MUSICAL INFLUENCES: Mick Jagger, Joe Cocker, Little Richard.

COMPOSITIONS: “Half A Man,” “Space Raider” and co-wrote with Gary Hardwick “Getting Involved” all recorded by Merlin.

FAVOURITE SINGLES: “Something In The Air” (Thunderclap Newman), “McArthur Park” (Richard Harris).

FAVOURITE ALBUMS: “Tapestry” (Carol King), “Court Of The Crimson King” (King Crimson), “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” (Simon and Garfunkel).

FAVOURITE MUSICIANS: Paul McCartney, Steve Howe, Tom Doherty.

FAVOURITE SONGWRITERS: Lennon and McCartney, Cat Stevens, Carol King.

FAVOURITE SINGERS: Joe Cocker, Neil Diamond.

RESIDENCE: Bachelor flat in Wandsworth, South West London.

INSTRUMENTS: None.

GARY ALICE STRANGE: Bass, vocals and guitar.

BORN: Hampsted, London. 26/Oct./1952.

EDUCATED: Whitefield School, Barnet.

MUSICAL TRAINING: Three classical guitar lessons and then self taught.

MUSICAL CAREER: Various semi-pro bands and wrote first song aged 16 featured on ATV programme “Come Here Often.” Former band with Dave Martin called March Hare and recorded LP for MAM. Group then changed to newly-formed Kinks Production Company, but after few months of touring with Kinks and recording, split up. Joined Merlin.

OTHER OCCUPATIONS: Director of La Starza Palace Studio.

MUSICAL INFLUENCES: Beatles, Stones, Free, Average White Band.

COMPOSITIONS: “Gipsy Rose Lee” and “Lay Me Down” for March Hare both issued as singles by MAM.

FAVOURITE SINGLES: “I Am A Walrus” (Beatles), “Need Your Love So Bad” (Fleetwood Mac), “Little Bit Of Love” (Free), “Amoureuse” (Kiki Dee).

FAVOURITE ALBUMS: “Elf” (Elf), “Sgt Pepper” (Beatles), “Talking Book” (Stevie Wonder).

FAVOURITE MUSICIANS: Andy Fraser, David Martin, Peter Green, Liberace.

FAVOURITE SONGWRITERS: Lennon and McCartney, Holland, Dozier and Holland, Lional Bart and Paul Simon.

FAVOURITE SINGERS: Paul Rodgers, Elvis Presley, Tina Turner, Rod Stewart.

RESIDENCE: Single and lives in Hampstead, North West London.

INSTRUMENTS: Fender Precision Bass with thin maple neck. Hagstrom six-string guitar with pick-up. Kemble baby grand piano. Rotosound Roundwound strings. Orange 120-watt amp with 2 x 15 inch reflex cabinets.

JAMIE MOSES: Lead guitar and vocals.

BORN: Ipswich, Suffolk, 30/Aug/1955.

EDUCATED: Schools in America and Japan. Shirley High School and Redhill Technical College in Surrey.

MUSICAL TRAINING: Self-taught.

MUSICAL CAREER: Given first guitar when ten, formed first band at 11. Formed the Inferno, 1969-71, in Japan, doing gigs, radio, TV. Came to England in 1971, worked with semi-pro bands and at a music shop in Croydon. Formed Angel with Scully 1972 and recorded LP of original material. Joined Madrigal July 1973.

MUSICAL INFLUENCES: Jimmy Page, Paul Kossoff, Beatles.

COMPOSITIONS: “Just Another Fish On My Hook”, “Gypsy”, and “He Thinks About You All The Time” all recorded by Merlin. Co-wrote “Angel” LP with Scully.

FAVOURITE SINGLES: “Livin’ For The City” (Stevie Wonder), “Can’t Get Enough” (Bad Company), “Joybringer” (Manfred Mann’s Earthband).

FAVOURITE ALBUMS: “Foxtrot” by Genesis.

FAVOURITE MUSICIANS: Genesis, Steve Howe, Free, Scully Wagon-Lits.

FAVOURITE SONGWRITERS: Paul McCartney, Genesis, Stevie Wonder.

FAVOURITE SINGERS: Paul Rodgers, Peter Gabriel, Mario Lanza and David Coverdale.

RESIDENCE: Is single and lives with his parents at Sanderstead, Surrey.

INSTRUMENTS: White Les Paul Deluxe (1973) and black Les Paul Custom (1974), both with Rotosound ultra-light strings and Gibson plectrums. EKO 6-string acoustic guitar with La Bella strings. Hiwatt 100-watt amp fitted with half power switch for distortion and sustain at almost any volume. Two 2 x 15 Fender Dual Showman JBL Cabinets. A cheap Japanese fuzz box with a three-tone fuzz switch.

SCULLY WAGON-LITS: Keyboards, guitar and vocals.

BORN: Balham, South West London, 20/Dec./1953.

EDUCATED: Henry Cavendish (Balham), Bec School (Tooting) and Archbishop Tennison (South Croydon).

MUSICAL TRAINING: Guitar lessons at night school for one year aged eight, cello at school for three years and double bass for two months, but is self-taught on keyboards.

MUSICAL CAREER: Played guitar in band in Balham (1964-65), joined Angel with Jamie (1972-1973) as semi-pros and recorded an album. Turned pro June 1973 with Big Wheel in South France. Joined Madrigal October 1973.

OTHER OCCUPATIONS: Organ salesman at Western Music and Selmer.

MUSICAL INFLUENCES: Harry Stoneham, Miller Anderson, Keith Emerson, Christian Vander.

COMPOSITIONS: “Marina,” “Takin’ Part,” “Pictures In My Mind,” etc.

FAVOURITE SINGLES: “Rock Man” (Elton John), “Space Oddity” (David Bowie).

FAVOURITE ALBUMS: “Tarkis” (ELP), “Fire And Water” (Free), “Dark Side Of The Moon (Pink Floyd).

FAVOURITE MUSICIANS: Keith Emerson, Tony Banks, Steve Howe.

FAVOURITE SONGWRITERS: Paul McCartney.

FAVOURITE SINGERS: Paul Rodgers, Stevie Wonder, Peter Gabriel, Greg Lake

RESIDENCE: Single and lives in Surrey.

INSTRUMENTS: Hamond RT3 with additional height plynth and customised guts driven through Hiwatt amps and put out through one Leslie 145 and two RSE 1 x 15 inch JBL bins and three custom-made Werlin Bat rotating horn units. Muri-Moog (modified) through Hiwatt 100-watt amp with JBL Showman Cabinet. Hagspiel grand piano, with scaffolding, miked through PA. Black Gibson SB Les Paul Junior (1960) plugged into Moog.

DAVID WIGHTWICK: Drums and vocals.

BORN: Dunstable, Bedfordshire, 25/August/1950.

EDUCATED: Priory Secondary School, Dunstable.

MUSICAL TRAINING: Self-taught.

MUSICAL CAREER: Former member of Madrigal from 1967 to 1973. The band split and was reformed with new members and retitled Merlin.

OTHER OCCUPATIONS: Varied from soldier to postman.

MUSICAL INFLUENCES: Beatles, The Move, Genesis.

COMPOSITIONS: None.

FAVOURITE SINGLES: "Say You Don’t Mind” (Colin Blunstone), “Motet Overture” (Abors), “Eleanor Rigby” (Beatles)

FAVOURITE ALBUMS: “Dark Side Of The Moon (Pink Floyd), "Erismore” (Colin Blunstone), “Tubular Bells” (Mike Oldfield), “Moving Waves” (Focus).

FAVOURITE MUSICIANS: Carl Palmer, Jon Bonham, Simon Kirke.

FAVOURITE SONGWRITERS: Lennon and McCartney, Colin Blunstone, Genesis.

FAVOURITE SINGERS: Ian Billan, Colin Blunstone, Karen Carpenter.

RESIDENCE: Flat in London.

INSTRUMENTS: Hayman see-through drumkit comprising 1 x 22 inch bass drum, 1 x 12 inch and 1 x 13 inch mounted tom-toms, 1 x 16 inch and 1 x 18 inch floor tom toms, 1 x 14 inch snare drum, Ludwig/Paiste 22 inch cymbal, 1 x 22 inch and 1 x 20 inch Zildjian ride cymbals, 1 x 18 inch Zildjian crash cymbal, 1 x 14 inch Zildjian hi-hat, Ludwig and Hayman accessories and Premier C and Selmer sticks.

#clippings #reference

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kammartinez · 10 months

Text

By Susan Straight

Over the last five years, I’ve read or reread 1,001 books of fiction in my project to create a literary map of this country. The idea for this “library of America” was born in 2016, when the news and the elections told of a country being irrevocably divided by politics, by ideas of red and blue, by arguments over who is American and who is not.

For me, those arguments ignored the vast geography of our stories and novels, the ways people search for belonging, leave home or stay, and how every state is really many places. Those arguments also ignored our common dreams, fears, challenges, hopes and everyday experiences, which unite us, regardless of where we live. I wanted to show that the places of American fiction can’t be divided into blue or red states.

Click on each dot to see the novel set in that location. To see the entire project at Esri, click here.

This may seem unbelievable, but in the course of creating this map, I filled my house with 1,001 books. Some are from the 19th century, with cloth bindings; some were published last month. I worked with the mapping company Esri to find specific geographic locations for each book, each idea of place contained in fiction, because American literature is a celebration of literary regions: city neighborhoods, rural parishes, small towns, ranches and boroughs, riverbanks and desert vistas, night bayous and frozen tundra, asphalt playgrounds and deep woods.

I made 1,001 books my goal, just as Scheherazade in “The Arabian Nights” told that many stories to stay alive. Maybe these books can keep us going as we read about the places we or our parents came from, regions we don’t know, homes lived in decades or centuries ago or homes made last year by someone new.

The books are all in my orange-grove farmhouse, in towering stacks, like a movie set for an old bookstore. I see America through fiction.

“Driftless,” the region of Wisconsin in David Rhodes’ work, is a timeless evocation of a remote place that led me west, where two books set hundreds of years apart in Montana — James Welch’s “Fools Crow” and Stephen Graham Jones’ “The Only Good Indians” — kept me awake all night. Rereading Willa Cather, in Nebraska, took me to “Pickard County Atlas” by Chris Harding Thornton, a beautiful echo of homelands. In my California, the Central Valley of Helena Maria Viramontes’ “Under the Feet of Jesus” leads into the L.A. of “The Tattooed Soldier” by Héctor Tobar and the Pala Reservation of Gordon Lee Johnson’s “Bird Songs Don’t Lie.”

My obsession with geography began early, in a 1966 Ford Country Squire station wagon, when my parents took us kids — five then — camping in Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite. I carried the maps, diligent about each small dirt road, each creek, each mountain. This year, on a paper map of the nation from an auto club, I marked journeys and regions in highlighters, trying to find the hearts of these books.

Working with the story maps team at Esri, I drew all over my paper map, seeing regions emerge in the novels for each state. We ended up with 11 regions, chosen for spines of mountain ranges, shared coastlines, prairie expanses. To find exact locations to map for each novel, I found references in the books themselves, I read interviews with authors throughout decades of their writing, and often — my favorite way — I contacted them by email or through Instagram and asked where they felt the exact heart of their books might be — especially in fictional places.

I got the idea for mapping hidden kingdoms from a former student and writer, Vanessa Hua, who knows those secret places in China and California. After we talked last year, I remembered my first hidden kingdom story, written at 15, about a desert canyon in Anza-Borrego.

The essential geography of America in the books of my favorite contemporary writers is peopled by characters who speak Spanish, Tagalog, Vietnamese and more. They are filled with the vernaculars of place, where nothing is merely red or blue, solely political or always divided. This is, of course, true in life: Every neighborhood in America is a blending of stories that can’t be reduced to any single idea.

We live in a nation of narratives told over thousands of years in lands like the Coachella Valley, near my home. I live in a state that was Mexico Territory until 1848. I grew up with schoolchildren whose families arrived in what would become Riverside County in 1842. My hope is that this map will encourage other readers to imagine all the kingdoms of America and the characters who live there, in the heart of the hearts of the country.

Here are the 11 kingdoms that have filled my imagination on this journey:

Pointed Firs, Granite Coves and Revolution Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island The stony coasts and harbors of Indigenous and pilgrim, heritage stories both dark and bright in rock-lined fields, cobblestone streets and onyx rivers, this region’s novels are classic, but I love the new voices as well. Every fall I visit New Brunswick, land of my stepfather, then drive south, seeing New England through these remarkable books.

Empire State and Atlantic Shores New York and New Jersey Boroughs and bridges, Finger Lakes and Adirondacks and the Jersey Shore, countless avenues and cobblestone streets of literature, bridges and bays, and millions of stories, as the sayings go. This region is home to great novels narrated by characters famous around the world, but also beloved at home where neighborhood, history and both blood and chosen family mean everything.

Capes and Tidewaters, Shifting Coasts and Capitals District of Columbia, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina and South Carolina Into the misty lowlands along the Intracoastal Waterway, the bays and sea islands of South Carolina through forests, abandoned plantations and tobacco fields, and eventually America’s capital, places to revel in summer fireflies.

Mountain Home and Hollows, Smokies and Ozarks Arkansas, Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky, West Virginia and Pennsylvania With a series of wooded spines, the swath of America dominated by ridges and valleys holds unique stories of resilience, isolation and family, secrets held for centuries and brave travels to save those loved and loyal to this place. This kind of home means deep reverence for tradition, and yet great novels of children longing for new visions as well.

Blues and Bayous, Deltas and Coasts Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and Florida One of the richest legacies of fiction is here in eddies and waves, the desperate fields and dark roads to freedom, the tenacity of centuries and the swirl of change brought by bravery. In the South, story is life, captured from the air into great literature.

In the Heart of the Heart of the Country Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio I took this title from William Gass, whose rhythm repeats throughout this immense heartland, where I’ve been told secret histories that echo marvelous novels. I walk along cornfields where endless streams of blackbirds flow above, thinking that prairie turned to field, to town, to city, and yet the long-held heartaches and sly humor color this heartland.

High and Lonesome Songs: Prairies and Mountains Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado and Nebraska Yearly, I come here to hear stories from my long-gone grandmother’s people, secrets from Fraser mountains to desolate farmhouses in ghost towns like Purcell. These books immerse readers in centuries of beauty, movement and bone-hard work in this extraordinary place.

Big Skies, Red Earth and Lone Stars Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas Kansas might live in the imagination through Frank Baum’s “The Wizard of Oz” — the sky filled with entire lives swirling in tornado, the small wooden house lifted. Great stories of women in Kansas might surprise you: “Tie My Bones to Her Back,” set in 1873 Smoky Hill, “The Persian Pickle Club” in 1930s Harveyville, and “The Virgin of Small Plains.” The Republic of Texas is vast, but great literature has come from the small towns like marvelous “Olympus, Texas” in Sealy, the dark “Valentine” in Odessa and “Black Light” in Lubbock.

Enchanted Deserts and Coyote Canyons Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada and Utah In this land of extreme beauty, the land is carved with deep canyons by rivers Colorado, Rio Grande, Virgin and Salt and Mojave, serpentine threads of water. The mesas and mountains rise to the sky, and for thousands of years, Indigenous peoples have built their homes protected by cliffs and stone.

Forest and Totem, Sea and Mountain: The Great Northwest Alaska, Oregon, Washington and Idaho My beloved stepfather, born in Canada, and my little mother, born in Switzerland, yearned for the wild coasts and woods here, and took five children in a 1965 Holiday Rambler trailer through the trees silvered by rain, the ghostly beaches and salmon-filled rivers. But I know Alaska only through imagination — a someday dream.

Golden Dreams and Sapphire Waves California and Hawaii Californiaisn’t a construct or cliché to me — it’s my native land. As a child born here to parents migrated from snowy lands, I grew up obsessed with how people got to what they believed was the promised land, what parts of other homes they carried, what languages and foods and legends. Hawaiiis also not an exotic construct. In forests and on beaches, people have told me about their chickens, their grandmothers, their ghosts.

#books #reading

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kamreadsandrecs · 11 months

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Click on each dot to see the novel set in that location. To see the entire project at Esri, click here.

The books are all in my orange-grove farmhouse, in towering stacks, like a movie set for an old bookstore. I see America through fiction.

Here are the 11 kingdoms that have filled my imagination on this journey:

#books #reading #book recs

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wytfut · 1 year

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X world friends

Excelsior Henderson community is the longest I’ve ever participated any organization other than employment.

I’ve been a certified soccer coach for 12 years. Fire/Rescue as stated before. Some black powder. And a few Ford clubs.

I obviously had developed some very good friends within this community. This doesn’t lessen my friendships outside of X world, but in truth broadens it, for me to experience new things.

My X world friends hold value.

I have lost a few in the near past years. Gary (Jumper) Houk out of Virginia... one of the best ambassadors for our community. Always up, always for what ever is good for the group. In public most likely in great behavior. I’ve witnessed him helping Cafe staff serve food, when we’d invade the local Cafe for a meal... overwhelming them.

I got to meet him in person the first time at the X rally in Minnesota in 2012. Via Email and phone calls he appeared bigger than life.

In person it was all real. Waking up second morning of the Roast and Ride in Elkton Virginia, to him singing at the top of his lungs.... “Paint your wagon”

At one of the rallys in Minnesota, he got pulled over, and the officer found a pistol in one of his bags. Officer questioned whether it was loaded... “what good would it be unloaded???” Judge let him go back to Virginia, and he came back to serve his time in the local jail. I think it was a weekend??

Don’t know if he ever married, and pretty sure he had no children. A faithful Methodist, and supporter of his church.

Younger than I, but close, he passed away in his sleep from heart failure.

Another we lost was Gary Thomforde from Minnesota. Gary was on a ride, and missed a 90 degree turn. Comments have been said that he knew that turn well, and suspect a health incident.... no skid marks.

I didn’t get to know Gary well, until his last year with us. Retired, and very soft spoken. All about EH’s. Had a huge hoard of parts, he had bought thru the years. And was always willing to sell and at a fair price to help out other owners.

We had chatted on the phone the night before he died. I found out several days later, he had passed.

Another, younger member of the group was James Farnham. I think he was in his early 50′s if that old. Just a good guy. Thought all of us old guys were genius’s... James died suicide, via anguish of a horrible health issue. He was made of good stuff.

There have been several others that have gone thru this 20 plus years, but I didn’t know them personally, or even had exchanged conversations via WWW.

As for the rest. I’d guess there are around 150+ active members in the club/group/community. I probably have met each and everyone one way or the other... via internet, in person, or via phone.

Of that number, I feel really comfortable with about 20 or so. And close with 10.

In the picture above is a few of the 10.... Left to right... Julie Liskie girlfriend of Dave Mcquitty next to her... both in Overland Park Kansas. Next to them is Jumper Marshal Virginia. Next to me is “fat Jesus” Dennis Bennet of Huron South Dakota.

In this shot you may noticed how red some of our faces are.... full day ride in the Ozark mountains. And most likely 1 beer in.

This shot was taken at Little Rock Arkansas.... our motel parking lot.

I love this picture, as it has the best of thoughts of Jumper. Makes me smile every time.

Dennis and I see each other about once a year, and mostly as we arent that far apart. About 6 hours distance. He’s made of good stuff too, and we get a long well.

Ken Bretz also doesn’t live that far away.... Minnesota.... and has partaken with our adventures with the Antique motorcycle cannonballers. Kansas, Iowa, South Dakota.

Ken, Dennis, and I are all members of the Team Fat Jesus scooter cannonball event this spring. We are the beans...

The social class of this group is all over the place. We have folks that are financially set for life. Huge working class for the most part, that we all have worked hard. And others that struggle to keep their X’s running looking for pennies. We all seem to get along well, and would go out of our way to help each other.

East coast members seem to be tighter than the rest of us, and to be honest I’m not sure to this day why/how that happened. They are a good intended bunch, and don’t treat the rest of us any different. But there is a relationship they all have that the rest of us don’t appear to have.

So many members go out of their way to support the group as small as we are. I’m constantly amazed at how many across the board type of folks in this group, and yet an extremely small number of problems members, if any.

I’m used to the rule of thumb experienced by me... once you get around 8 members of anything, there’s going to be at least 1 asshole that is there for the wrong reason.

Not sure how Phil Marks and I got tied together. We talk frequently on the phone. And try to make events that we know each other will be attending. Phil is older than I by a couple of years. Has lived in Pennsylvania his whole life. Always has me laughing at some hysterical story/event that has happened to him.

With his emotions running full throttle in his stories, and his accent, plus hand language, ... I just can’t help but laugh.

Our likenesses from our pasts is cosmic... or something I can’t describe. He had a Norton, I did too. He had a Capri, as I. He had an early Ford Broncho, same with us. His Wife’s name is Pat, and mine Hunny is Patti. There are a few more, that make a person scratch their head...

On the other end of familiarly, thru the group, I became friends with John Kane in England. .... via facebook. John loved to buy American memorabilia here, and then ship it to England. Cars, motorcycles, parts, etc.... what ever suited him at the moment. Talked to him on the phone once, and lots of DM’s thru facebook back in the day. He was using me as a central point of delivery, and then I’d help him out getting all of his items to a port, to ship home. I really enjoyed it, and it was a great experience. Something new in my flat land slow paced life. It was fun. John had a severe stroke, and its been difficult at best to keep up to speed with him. I do miss our short messaging and emails.

Have met several of the Swedes in the group. Good folks, that enjoy American Motorcycles, and I’d suspect they own several of all the brands.

At the end of my facebook membership, I was just starting to get acquainted with a younger guy in Russia who owned an X.

If for some crazy reason I could not be a part of this organization any more... I’d miss the bunch of them big time....

Its been real

UPDATE: AJ Fago...... Hang in there buddy, we are all rooting for you.

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