August 2020 – Keith Robertson

Week in Review – August 23, 2020

A pretty severe storm rolled through on Sunday evening after I published the blog last week. The forecast had said this would miss us completely, so Diana had to scramble to get the sunbathing area all covered up.

My Best Man Denny’s Mum passed away this week after a lengthy battle with cancer. We enjoyed so many laughs, often at Denny’s expense, and meals with Diann over the years, and will really miss her kindness and her smile.

I watched an episode of “Mediterranean Living” on television that showed an American family moving to Almunecar on the Spanish Andalusian coast. The weather was much nicer there and the town looked perfect. I had Diana watch it and she was as shocked as me at how inexpensive the rent was on some gorgeous villas. Should we start learning Spanish? Might be worth a visit when we can travel again.

The calendar for August is completely open. We remember when it was a complicated tracker of me going one direction, Diana going another, and trying to figure out when we would go to Austin rather than staying in McKinney. All that as well as concerts and restaurant reservations. I did have three outings this week – a haircut on Monday, physical therapy on Tuesday, and a trip to Filtered in downtown McKinney for coffee with Penelope and Diana – those and four trips to the gym for swims.

Saturday was a lovely, cooler morning to sit outside and enjoy that coffee. There was only one fly in the ointment – McD beat me at the crossword by a full minute plus. She completed the puzzle in 7:03 with me straggling behind at 8:08.

Prior to the coffee excursion, we enjoyed a fast paced 3 mile walk. The Apple watch refuses to count Diana’s walks unless she gets her heart rate up above 100 eats per minute – a big source of annoyance. No matter how fast she walks, her heart rate doesn’t get there. So…she’s taken to doing regular runs to boost her rate – she runs away from me and then turns around to rejoin me. Speaking of running McD – she did run a 5K distance this week – effectively fully completing the couch to 5K program.

It happened again on Sunday. We went to Duino for coffee and the crossword. I lost again! McD finished in 7 minutes again, besting me by at least 30 seconds. All that running has got her brain firing on all cylinders. I’m going to have to up my speed solving abilities. Losing two days in a row is a non-starter for sure.

The “memories” feature of the iPhone showed me these excellent memories of August 20, 2019. The Marc Cohn and Blind Boys of Alabama concert form the wonderful Saratoga Mountain Winery. What a great memory indeed.

We had Laureano, a new colleague from our Guatemala Technology Center, join our Happy Hour on Thursday evening. We started talking about traveling and he shared a story from his honeymoon a few years ago – he and his new bride had toured the Vatican and asked about a special service for newly weds. It was a couple of days out and would disrupt their travel plans, but his wife convinced Laureano that they should try to attend. Do you think it was worth staying?:

Laureano couldn’t find the picture on his computer and I was quite impressed as he navigated through the Vatican website (all Italian) to find this shot.

Another work friend had a bit of a scary experience this week. His son was crouched down by a river on their deer lease at night and he noticed a coiled up rattlesnake less than 2 feet away from his bottom. Dad took care of the issue as a native Texan would:

I’ve started reading the “Splendid and the Vile” by Erik Larson. It’s about Churchill, his family, and the years 1940 and 1941 when Britain stood strong against a potential invasion by Germany. Reading about Churchill brought to mind an old Supertramp song that I first heard on the “Paris” double live album (remember those?). I believe that “Fool’s Overture” is largely about World War II and the lessons to be learned about ignoring growing threats. Here’s the first verse:

“History recalls how great the fall can be
While everybody’s sleeping, the boats put out to sea
Borne on the wings of time
It seemed the answers were so easy to find
“Too late, ” the prophets cry
The island’s sinking, let’s take to the sky”

Here’s the live version:

The song first appeared on the album “Even in the Quietest Moments”, released in 1977. Supertramp is often referred to as an English group, although their bass player, Dougie Thompson, is Scottish – as evidenced by the Glasgow Herald he’s reading in the diner picture on the back of the “Breakfast in America” album. I like the album cover art with the snow covered grand piano in the mountains. Some research revealed that the group recorded the album in Colorado and put the piano (which doesn’t have any insides) on a ski slope one evening, photographing it the next morning after a snow storm had cleared. The small details really make their album covers. What’s the music on the piano? It’s titled “Fool’s Overture” but is actually “The Star Spangled Banner”.

I decided to try and learn the introduction to “Fool’s Overture” for my piano tune this week. It’s a bit challenging as you can see in this video of my efforts:

More work required. I can play it through just fine without the video recording going. No, really!

I don’t have a guitar song to share this week – the piano one occupied all of my free time. Back to the book now.

Here’s an interesting picture from the inside front cover. Look at the men selecting books from library shelves that are still standing in the rubble:

I’m 125 pages in at this point and here are some interesting passages from what I’ve read:

“Mine is an intimate account that delves into how Churchill and his circle went about surviving on a daily basis: the dark moments and the light, the romantic entanglements and debacles, the sorrows and laughter, and the odd little episodes that reveal how life was really lived under Hitler’s tempest of steel. This was the year in which Churchill became Churchill, the cigar-smoking bulldog we all think we know, when he made his greatest speeches and showed the world what courage and leadership looked like.”

“Coveting power for power’s sake was a “base” pursuit, he wrote, adding, “But power in a national crisis, when a man believes he knows what orders should be given, is a blessing.” He felt great relief. “At last I had the authority to give directions over the whole scene. I felt as if I were walking with destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and for this trial…”

“With a German victory in France nearly certain, British intelligence now forecast that Germany might invade England immediately, without waiting for a formal French surrender. The British expected that an invasion would begin with a titanic onslaught by the German air force, potentially a “knock out” blow – or, as Churchill called it, and aerial “banquet” – with as many as fourteen thousand aircraft darkening the sky.”

“But fighter production lagged. England’s aircraft plants operated on a prewar schedule that did not take into account the new reality of having a hostile force based just across the channel. Production, though increasing, was suppressed by the fusty practices of a peacetime bureaucracy.”

I love the picture painted by the word fusty, and remember my parents asking me why I had such a “fusty face” going.

“Goring harbored a distorted perception of what by now was unfolding off the coast of Dunkirk, as British soldiers – nicknamed Tommies – prepared to evacuate. “Only a few fishing boats are coming across,” he said on Monday, May 27. “One hopes that the Tommies know how to swim.”

“The Tommies did not, after all, have to swim. In the end, 887 vessels carried out the Dunkirk evacuation, of which only a quarter belonged to the Royal Navy. Another 91 were passenger ships, the rest an armada of fishing boats, yachts, and other small craft. In all, 338, 226 men got away.”

His most famous speech:

“As he neared the conclusion of the speech, he fired his boilers. “We shall go on to the end,” he said, in a crescendo of ferocity and confidence. “We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and the oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”

“To watch him compose some telegram or minute for dictation is to make one feel that one is present at the birth of a child, so tense is his expression, so restless his turnings from side to side, so curious the noises he emits under his breath.”

I’m reminded of the bomb shelters that were in back gardens of the big cities in Britain during this time – about 2 million were distributed. My Dad was a kid living in Glasgow and so was the potential target of bombing raids. My Mum lived in the country and so was less at risk. I think I remember a bomb shelter out behind where my Grandpa Robertson lived. Not sure if I’m imagining that or not. These days, many of the shelters remain in gardens and are often used as garden sheds. Here’s a link to an interesting article in The Guardian about these:

https://amp.theguardian.com/world/2018/aug/21/how-britains-abandoned-anderson-shelters-are-being-brought-back-to-life

I’ve been listening to “American Dirt” by Jeanine Cummins during my swims this week. It’s a story about Lydia and her son, who try to escape Acapulco and Mexico after her husband and most of her family are killed by a drug cartel. An initial twist is that Lydia is a bookstore owner and one of her best and favourite customers is the head of the cartel that carried out the killings. She is devastated when she discovers this and thus begins an attempted escape to Colorado. It’s still early in the story but I suspect her escape exploits are about to become quite harrowing.

What’s happening in the week ahead? Absolutely nothing exciting that I can think of, other than exercise, physical therapy and a busy week of work. We’re hopeful that the bathroom will be usable next weekend. I’m contemplating trying John Prine’s “Hello in There” on the piano and will search for something good for the guitar.

Open in Spotify

Week in Review – August 16, 2020

“103 Years Old”

Hello again. Not much happening here in McKinney this week. Just working from home, reading, eating, exercising and sleeping. I’m pleased to announce that with all this time eating at home, McD has become an accomplished outdoor griller. Burgers, steak, salmon, shrimp and veggies are all cooked perfectly these days. Here’s some perfectly cooked shrimp and a lovely salad that I enjoyed:

My annual physical (personal M.O.T.) rolled around again this week. ECG, prostate, and most blood tests (still waiting on a few) all show positive and healthy results. Maybe I’ll be brave enough to go for the day long full battery of tests that my company offers next year. In addition to this torture, I also had my weekly Physical Therapy appointment. It really wasn’t too bad but certainly stretches the limits of what my leg and hip can do.

I loved receiving this picture from my sister-in-law, Amy, this week. That’s our newest niece, Frankie, our nephew Massimo, and their Great-Grammie. I love the looks on both of their faces. And the best part, Grammie turned 103 yesterday. She’s still walks unassisted and had cooked an apple pie for the visit. Truly amazing!

The New York Times crossword puzzle was kind to me today. The Sunday puzzle usually takes me about an hour – it’s easier but much larger than Friday and Saturday. Today was my best time by far. You’ll notice that I finished this at 7:34 am – courtesy of Diana’s early morning weight training and walk – she likes to get them in before the weather becomes too oppressive. The theme was “Alternative Cinema” – I really like the clue that I highlighted here:

With so little excitement these days, I’ve been wondering how to add something interesting to the blog. So… here goes with a new segment. I’m going to share my exploits in learning new songs on the piano and guitar. First I’ll tackle “Racing in the Street” by Bruce Springsteen – a long time favourite:

Let’s talk about those lyrics:

“I got a 69 Chevy with a 396,

Fuelie heads and a Hurst on the floor,

She’s waiting for me tonight,

in the parking lot,

of the Seven-Eleven store”

Other than the “69 Chevy”, it’s a bunch of Greek to a Scotsman. We don’t have souped up muscle cars and drag racing in Scotland – at least that I’m aware of. The Anglo/American cross culture flow may have changed that by now. To break it down, “Fuelie heads” are defined in my Google search like this:

“The 461 head is more popularly referred to as the “Fuelie” head, because it was introduced as standard equipment on the 1962 327ci Corvette engine that was fed by a mechanical Rochester fuel-injection system. In some bench-racing circles, all double-hump heads are classified as Fuelie heads.” Got it?

“Hurst” is basically a gear lever: “Hurst proudly maintains a wide variety of exceptional shifter products for the performance enthusiast including automatic shifters, legendary Hurst manual …”

I hadn’t heard of 7-11s until I was in training in Fort Worth and frequented the 24 hour convenience store just across from the apartment complex where we were housed. Apparently 7-11 parking lots are a gathering place for street drag racing competitions. I remember going to my first amateur drag racing event many years ago with some friends from Gearhart. Quite an experience to witness the strategy of amateur racers going through the heats with a wide variety of vehicles.

Back to the practicing – and for the guitar, I’m very early (1 day) into learning “Pride and Joy” by Stevie Ray Vaughan. When I first visited Dallas for training with the oil logging company in 1985, Stevie’s song “Change It” was all over the radio. The first riff caught my attention and had me cranking up the radio every time.

Hearing him live in Dallas in 1986 was a musical highlight. I remember being a huge fan of the live version of “Pride and Joy”.

On our Executive Committee meeting this week, I was presenting a request for some capital spend, and one of the members said he wouldn’t approve unless I played something on the guitar that he spotted in the background. He specifically requested some Stevie Ray. I managed to dodge that request but it did give me the idea for this new segment. Here’s my attempt at the first few bars. The song only gets more difficult from here. Going to take some hard work:

I listened to a short story called “Climbing with Mollie” by Bill Finnegan on a couple of my swims this week. A small MP3 player that clips onto the strap of my goggles and some waterproof earphones made this possible. Those and a bit of patience deciphering how to find an Audible book download file, convert it to MP3 format, and load it onto the player. Then some trial and error with different sized earphone end pieces and “fitgoo earbud insertion helper”. Now I’m all set to listen to books while swimming.

Finnegan won the 2016 Pulitzer Prize for his memoir “Barbarian Days” which is about his fascination with surfing while he grew up in Hawaii. The book that I listened to is about his adolescent daughter, Mollie’s, passion toward rock climbing. She had been a bored non-participant in group sports – counting daisies on the soccer field and rejecting swim team – but took to rock climbing immediately. Mollie proves to be a natural-born climber and Finnegan gets hooked as well.

As Mollie progresses in the sport, the descriptions of her activities get more detailed and technical. I really enjoyed learning so much about how climbing “problems” are rated and named. The duo travel from indoor gyms to rock faces in Central Park, Mexico and Canada. I was interested to hear about their time near Queretero in Mexico – that’s where our corporate office for Mexico and Latin America is located – and one of the last places I traveled to before lock down. The descriptions of the nearby town of Bernal have me looking forward to a return visit. Pena de Bernal is the name of the monolith that dominates the skyline.

I ordered “Nashville, scenes from the new American south” with text by Ann Patchett (author of “Commonwealth” and “The Dutch House” and one of my very favourite current authors) and photographs by Heidi Ross, expecting a series of short stories about the city. Instead it turns out to be mostly a photography book with short notes from Patchett. I have enjoyed flicking through the beautiful photos for places that we’ve visited, and places that we should visit on our next trip. Here are a few of the pictures that I enjoyed. “The iconic Delbert McLinton at the iconic Union Station hotel”:

My favourite Delbert tune:

He’s clearly traveled a few miles since recording this song. The second night that I spent in the United States, I saw a Delbert McClinton concert. I convinced a few of my oilfield logging classmates, including a couple of Argentinians, to accompany me to the Caravan of Dreams music club in Fort Worth and really didn’t know what to expect. I can still remember how much I enjoyed that show and the feeling of being right at home with great blues and R&B music that wasn’t going to be easily found in Scotland. Isn’t it fun when a photograph can bring back so many memories?

Here’s a look inside the Parnassus bookstore that Ann Patchett owns with her husband:

The shop appears to have quite a nice music section.

And finally, a weekly lunch date that Sturgill Simpson and John Prine (famous Nashville based singer songwriters) enjoyed at Big Al’s Diner prior to Prine’s passing from Covid a few weeks ago:

I read the book “Silver Sparrow” by Tayari Jones this week. Sometimes I really can’t remember what possessed me to order certain books, and this is certainly one of those. I suppose it popped up on one of those “if you liked this, you’ll love this” lists or on a book review that I trust. Here’s what the Los Angeles Times reviewer had to say:

“Tayari Jones has taken Atlanta for her literary terroir, and like many of our finest novelists, she gives readers a sense of place in a deeply observed way. But more than that, Jones has created in her main characters tour guides of that region: honest, hurt, observant and compelling young women whose voices cannot be ignored . . . Impossible to put down until you find out how these sisters will discover their own versions of family.”
—Los Angeles Times

The book opens with the line, “My father, James Witherspoon, is a bigamist.” A unique opener for sure. Silver Sparrow is the story of two young women, Dana and Chaurisse, who are the daughters of a bigamist father. Only Dana is aware that her father has another family and Dana’s existence must be kept a secret from her father’s other family. The first half of the book is told from Dana’s perspective and the second half is told from Chaurisse’s perspective as she slowly begins to realize that something isn’t quite right with her family. The last quarter of the book was certainly the best, as all the threads come together for a somewhat predictable finale. Not sure I’d recommend this one to any of you, but it did keep my attention for a couple of days.

We’ve been working our way through the Hulu series “The Handmaid’s Tale” over the last few weeks. What a truly bizarre and disturbing story. Perhaps mostly because we have the sense that it’s not such a long leap for our society to become something like this. That being said, the acting and directing are excellent. Several episodes have had us on the edge of our seats.

I’ve commented a couple of times on the music in the show. There’s not much of it and the deep selections had me convinced that the musical director was British. When Roy Harper’s “How does it Feel?” showed up in an episode this week I was convinced. What do you think Google revealed? The music is selected by a lady who lives in Austin! The Harper song took me quickly back to an old favourite of his from University days – “When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease”. If you listen you’ll hear one of the things that draws me to this – that’s right, the excellent brass band accompaniment. Coupled with the poignant lyrics, it’s right up K alley.

Now that I think about it, I believe I wrote about discovering this song again quite recently. Apologies for the duplication. Well, not really, it’s a great song.

What’s on deck for the coming week? Well, let’s see: a haircut on Monday; Physical Therapy on Tuesday; 3 swims worked into the calendar (I plan on listening to the audio book version of “American Dirt” for company); reading the new Churchill novel, “The Splendid and the Vile”, by Erik Larson – it covers the years 1940-1941 and the last part of the jacket blurb reads, “this book takes the readers out of today’s political dysfunction and back to a time of true leadership, when – in the face of unrelenting horror- Churchill’s eloquence, courage, and perseverance bound a country, and a family, together.” We can only wish for a tiny bit of that these days.

Stay positive, calm and kind.

Week in Review – Aug 9, 2020

I’m finally able to get some exercise again. Swimming seems to be the best bet for my leg and I’ve been amazed at all the data my new Apple watch captures from my swims – total laps and yards, average and peak heart rate, yards of breaststroke versus freestyle, active and total calories expended. I did 1400 yards on Tuesday and 1500 on Friday – picking up the pace quite a bit on Friday as I got comfortable that my leg would handle it. All that technology is great and we currently have a week long competition going between Diana, Alicia and me to see who gets the most exercise and burns the most calories. McD is quite upset that she doesn’t burn as many calories for the same amount of effort – as I’ve told her, it takes a lot less effort to move her little body around than it does mine.

I saw this crazy video of Katie Ledecky balancing a glass of milk on her head while she swims a full lap. What amazing body control and balance:

The nagging and prodding all got too much and I succumbed to Physical Therapy on Tuesday. My therapist, Shenpagavadivu Sathiyamoorthy, thankfully goes by Shenda and was very thorough in understanding my situation. She’s probably nowhere close to winning a most vowels in your name contest, but should at least get a bronze star. Taking a baseline of my recovery, she had me walk in the corridor for 2 minutes and noticed that my left foot turns out when I walk and my weight is all on the outside of my foot. I explained that’s the way I’ve always walked since breaking my left ankle in University. She thinks that running in that same way put the strain on my left hip as it tried to compensate for my foot turning out, causing the stress fracture. Interesting. Now we start the exercises to strengthen everything and work on turning that left foot back in.

We’re hoping that the bathroom remodel woes are mostly behind us now. The steam shower installation is complete and all the peripherals appear to be working now. Diana and I had to play a very hands on role in supervising the initial plumber and helping him to correct his mistakes. All that remains is some argy bargy with the plumbing company over how much they would like to charge us for the first plumber that didn’t know what he was doing and spent way too much time redoing and troubleshooting his work. Diana will take the good cop first pass at that and hopefully bad cop K won’t need to make an appearance. The bathtub may be able to come inside from the front porch soon.

Will and Christine moved to a new apartment this week – a penthouse in the same building as his old one. He’s quite excited about the 20 foot vaulted ceilings, the extra bedroom, and the mountain view.

I finished “Blood” by Allison Moorer this week and I can’t remember being as affected by a book since Joan Didion’s “Year of Magical Thinking” and “Blue Nights”, as you’ll be able to tell by the number of quotes and comments that I’m sharing. The way that Moorer conveys her emotions over the years as she continues to deal with her tragic upbringing is beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.

“I call the B-25 Daddy’s guitar because that’s what it is and always will be. It’s a 1964 Gibson. I’ve played it on every record I’ve ever made.”

A guitar as old as me that’s still going strong. Clearly a very good year.

“I keep it out where I, or anyone who comes into my house, can pick it up and play a tune. Daddy would like that, I think. I don’t treat it like a precious thing, but it is even though it’s so scarred.”

Even after the devastating pain and suffering inflicted on Moorer by her father, she still plays his guitar. A great example of the healing power of music.

“Guitars are mysterious. A person can practice playing one for a lifetime and never really figure out how they work.”

“Music was second nature to Mama, while Daddy had to work hard just to be an average songwriter, singer, and player. He probably had more talent for other things – but the desire to make music was deeply in him, even more than it seemed to be in her. He always looked to her for the right chord when he couldn’t find it and for the harmony parts he couldn’t hear. She was just plainly better and more naturally talented than he was. It made him deeply frustrated because she had something he didn’t but wanted badly. He despised the part of her that didn’t treat her talent for music as the most important thing in life besides, of course, him.”

This is an extreme version of the feeling I have with people who squander a natural music talent and ability. I have to work very hard to make something sound half way decent, while so many others can just sit down and do it with zero effort. And that is quite frustrating.

“Daddy’s main disease was alcoholism. But I don’t think it began and ended there. I have more than a suspicion that there was very likely something else going on, something else that didn’t allow his mind to operate properly. Normally? I don’t know what normal is.”

“Was he bipolar? I know he was depressed. His moods swung violently. He was unpredictable. He did dangerous things. I’m pretty certain he didn’t care if he lived or died. He would come up out of the misery every once in a while and when he did it felt like the sun was shining directly on you and only for you. That’s what his happiness felt like. He’d deliver a sweet “That’s my girl” and a pat on the back or the head when he was pleased with you. But that was only every once in a while.”

“He didn’t like competition. Everyone loved her. So he shrank her. He shrank her until she almost disappeared. She decided that she didn’t want to disappear anymore. Then he disappeared her for good. No more speaking too much, no more personality, no more competition, no more chance that she might possibly have a life outside of the one she had with him.”

Hard to imagine someone who wants to shrink their wife. But there are a lot of them out there. Then the story gets worse, in my opinion:

“What happens when you hit your daughter: First, she will bond to you out of fear, mistakenly thinking she has done something wrong and if she can just manage to not do it again or somehow please you, you might not hit her or anyone else anymore. She will even think you will love her properly if she can earn your approval. She won’t realize this is impossible. Then, she will either do that with every man she comes within a hundred feed of for the rest of her life or until she learns not to (this will take much doing), or she will despise them with such vehemence that she can barely stomach one around. Sometimes she will do a combination of both of those things, working herself into a pattern of push and pull. I love you I hate you, I need you I don’t need anyone, that will drive her a little crazy. She won’t understand at first, if ever, why she only attracts other masochists.”

And then some more positive commentary on music and innate ability:

“I was always a stickler for details even as a girl, and noticed that someone had hit the wrong chord upon first hearing the recording. When I revealed this to my sister, she looked at me like I had three heads. It was true that I was almost missing the point entirely, but the little things meant everything to me. I’d pick out the smallest details on a recording and would often fixate on them, waiting for them to come around every time I’d listen – a faraway harmony part, a double-time strum on a guitar, the acoustic upstrokes between every spelled-out letter on the chorus of “D-I-V-O-R-C-E.” The details always connected me to the ground and reminded me that even if everything else around me was too unpredictable to depend on, I could count on the records to not vary. I could trust them, and not a whole lot else.”

Moorer’s records are always impeccably produced and the paragraph above partially explains why. The only record I remember bugging me every time I listen is “Easy Money” by Rickie Lee Jones. The double bass is alone in the intro and quite out of tune – how does that happen? I love the song but the bass always bugs me.

“That I cannot cancel my love and attachment to them is a testament to the bonds, good or bad, of blood. It’s fascinating to try to figure it out, though, and I have a hunger to do so. It’s medicine, a balm for the wounds still healing. I need a balm. Sorting through it makes me tired in the deepest part of myself.”

Talking about her son, John Henry, who has appeared in the background of some Hayes Carll livestreams, and who has non-verbal autism:

“He is here as an angel. He is sometimes of the sort that tests my patience, fortitude, and endurance, sometimes of the sort that ruptures my heart, sometimes of the sort that makes me feel like every part of me that has any good in it will burst through my skin from the way he makes it increase in size. I am here to learn to allow him to redeem me.”

About making music with her “Sissy”, Shelby Lynne:

“The sound of our voices blending as only those that belong to siblings can buzzed through them just as it did us. Our voices are like two halves of a whole, and when we sing together we make one thing. It was electric. My chest and ribs vibrated in that perfect way that notes coming from my toes can make them do. Sometimes I think I live for that feeling.”

The other siblings that come to mind when reading that paragraph:

“I watch my friends and H. with fascination as they talk about what their folks are up to, how they annoy them, how they love them. I try not to cry when H. speaks to his folks on the phone, and cover up my longing for just one conversation that he’s having. I am jealous and I am sad. I am lonely.”

Sometimes simple phone calls are so precious. We don’t always recognize that at the time.

My last quote from “Blood”:

“Guns: I am farther away from them now than I have ever been. The sight of a gun unnerves me – all that shiny metal clicking and clacking, heavy in a hand. Maybe that’s how much fear weighs. It weighs as much as the gun you tote. you think you can ward off your fear if you have one.

I do not like firearms around me. I will cross the street if I see a copy because they carry them. I don’t like the sounds they make, I don’t like the damage they do, I don’t like the power they possess.”

Continuing on the musical front, I heard this great cover of the Grateful Dead’s “West L.A. Fadeaway” by moe. I love the jazzy elements of their jamband sound.

I heard about this NPR listening test that let’s you see if you can really tell the difference in high quality audio recordings. There are 3 choices for different styles of music and each is at a different audio quality (sampling frequency). I got about 70% correct indicating that I really can’t hear high frequencies well enough any more to be able to tell the difference. Put on some headphones and see what you think:

https://www.npr.org/sections/therecord/2015/06/02/411473508/how-well-can-you-hear-audio-quality

Staying with NPR, they put on what they call Tiny Desk concerts – performances at the desk of one of their reporters. Those have obviously gone virtual these days. Here’s one from Lucinda Williams. Such an unabashedly Southern accent and she always has excellent guitar players:

https://www.npr.org/2020/07/27/894685942/lucinda-williams-tiny-desk-home-concert

And here’s the Tiny desk contest winner for this year – Linda Diaz has such a gentle and smooth sound with a good message for now:

This John Hiatt song just popped up on Spotify as I was writing this post. Listen to Ry Cooder’s slide guitar – Wow!

Three Weeks in Review – August 2, 2020

“Austin’s Been a Friend of Mine”

I’m getting worse – three weeks since I provided an update – just a plain old slacker. A couple of projects have been keeping us (mostly McD) quite busy over the last few weeks.

The bathroom remodel has begun. The designer twins (Marci and Mindy) – identical so it’s helpful that they have different hairdos – visited us to finalize the tile and other design elements. The tiles are actually white, grey and blue, although they look a bit beige in the picture. Believe me, there will be no more beige in that bathroom.

We’ve moved to the upstairs guest bedroom and I’m now showering in the small bathtub area. Should only be another few weeks or so – OK, maybe a month at the most, he said optimistically.

At this point, the demo has been completed, the new shower floor poured, and the steam shower mostly installed. We have steam, coloured lights, and WiFi connectivity. We just don’t have music coming out of the speakers. Hopefully that will be resolved tomorrow and the tiling can begin. Oh yeah, the aromatherapy hasn’t proven to be working yet either.

Diana has been doing an amazing job of overseeing the work. Without her management, several more redos would have been necessary, and we would not have had helpful access to the area where the steam shower is installed.

The other project was getting packed up and out of the Austin apartment by the end of July. Diana did another excellent job of getting everything ready for the movers. What a great crew we had – showed up early, took incredible care with everything, and followed directions to a tee, all with kindness and a smile. The movers taking the couch to Alicia were late, and so the McKinney crew was fully unloaded when we arrived.

We laughed at the debris under my spot on the couch – including a martini olive stick and a variety of crackers. It really wasn’t as bad as I had expected but Diana was quick to point that there wasn’t a single crumb under her spot. Perhaps she was sweeping things in my direction?

Bats Domino and Baby Penguin enjoyed one final pretty sunrise from the kitchen window.

It was pretty sad to see the empty apartment as we waited for our final walk through with the building management.

We did manage to squeeze in visits to another two of our favourite restaurants before leaving Austin. June’s is always good and we loved the curried escargot with puff pastry and the bone marrow bolognese. This is the restaurant where I had my lunch “interview” before taking the job in Austin.

After dinner we walked up to C-Boy’s Heart and Soul and snapped a picture – it’s not going to be open again for a while and we’ve had so many lovely evenings there.

And then on the walk home, we found the elusive Mr. Rogers mural on the side of Home Slice pizza – can’t believe we never noticed it before.

We also got to experience the new layout in the garden at Justine’s in East Austin. What a great job they have done with individual awnings over tables with chandeliers and ferns to enhance the separation. They also are employing the scan-able “Le Menu” that you pull up on your phone.

Farewell for now Austin – we’ve had such a good time with you this last year or so. You’re not the same as you were now, but hopefully we can visit again when you’re feeling better and back to normal.

“But I never wanted to leave this town
Austin’s been a friend of mine
Texas we’ve had a time”

We listened to “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine” by Gail Honeyman on the drives to and from Austin. Apparently this is soon to be a movie starring Reese Witherspoon. I can’t quite picture that given the Glasgow setting. I highly recommend this book – very unique, entertaining and heart-breaking at the same time. The narrator of the audio book really adds quite a bit with her wide variety of male and female Scottish accents.

Alicia shared one of her jazz appreciation class assignments with us. We had to write 1,000 words about this performance by the Yellow-jackets. I gave some input that was incorporated into the final paper – particularly about an electric wind instrument that had Alicia fascinated – “It looks like it’s from the year 3000.” Her paper was very enjoyable to read and must have covered everything the teacher was looking for – 250 out of a possible 250 points!

Tuesday night continues to be live music night with Hayes Carll followed by the Band of Heathens Supper Club show. I particularly enjoy this Little Feat cover they put together from one of the Supper Club shows:

This CBS Sunday Morning piece about a conductor who has assembled the largest ever virtual choir is excellent. Thousands of folks from around the world record their parts in time with the conductor’s video, and then a technical team splices together all the video and audio – what must be a painstakingly tedious process.

We’ve enjoyed a few of the episodes of Zac Efron’s “Down to Earth” show on Netflix. The one about free sparkling water fountains in Paris is quite good.

I watched the movie “American Folk” while Diana was sunbathing yesterday afternoon. The film is written, directed and edited by David Heinz. Typically an editor on major films, this is his only feature film and I loved it. A beautifully created, quiet film that just happens and doesn’t push anything. It was originally titled September 12th, as it covers two strangers who meet on a plane that is forced to land as September 11th unfolds. Amber Rubarth’s character meets Joe Purdy’s when she pulls out a splitter and plugs in her headphones to share his music on the plane. The major themes are the kindness of strangers and the bond of music. Joe Purdy and Amber Rubarth are great musicians and sing well together. Highly recommended.

I mentioned the Hayes Carll Tuesday night livestreams earlier. He is often joined on those by his wife, Allison Moorer. I didn’t realize she was the younger sister of the equally great singer, Shelby Lynne. They both had tragic upbringings, culminating in a murder/suicide of their parents when Moorer was fourteen. She writes about her upbringing in rural Alabama in the book “Blood”. I’m about half way through this (taking a break from the Susan Sontag tome) now and while the subject is very sad, the way Moorer writes about her memories and how she feels about them in her forties is quite beautiful and moving. Here’s one of Moorer’s songs that sounds like it was inspired by childhood:

I stumbled into a large collection of Youtube videos by Rick Beato accidentally while doing some research for Alicia’s paper. Beato is a musical genius, playing almost all instruments and with an infectious love of the music he discusses in his postings. I love the way he breaks down the elements of classic recordings and explains the harmonic and melodic make up. Here’s one about “Rocketman” by Elton John that is a great example:

I enjoy these postings so much that I have to limit myself to just one or two at a time.

Peter Green, founding member of Fleetwood Mac (way before Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham), died recently. He has the sweetest tone of any guitar player and wrote so many amazing songs. Here’s my favourite:

And finally, here’s a tune from Paul Desmond that popped up on a Spotify list. I think he has the best saxophone tone, perfectly pure and full, like Chet Baker’s trumpet sound.

Stay safe and kind among the madness.