Donny Hathaway

It was 30 years ago today that we lost one of the most beautiful voices ever to grace this planet.

I will always remember him for how sweet he was to me when I photographed him backstage. He wasn't concerned about himself or how he'd look in the photos. He just wanted to be sure I was happy and got what I wanted. Incredibly accommodating. Unfortunately, I screwed up the pictures. As a purist, I never wanted to use a flash - especially for live performances...never, never, never - but on this occasion I really needed to use a flash, but for some reason I didn't. The result was negs too thin to print.

So, here's one of my live shots of the incomparable Donny Hathaway...

Donny Hathaway
10/1/45-1/13/79

Ah, screw it. I'm going to scan the backstage stuff right now and post whatever I come up with...pride be damned.

Okay, here you go...this is the first time this photo has seen the light of day. It's not as bad as I thought it was...I kinda wish I had included it in my book.

Donny with Warner Bros record rep, Mark Wilson (also passed)

The voice:


His personality:

Remember Maurice Gibb

I confess. Most of this post is from the one I did last year to remember Maurice on the 5th anniversary of his premature passing. It's not because I don't want to take the time to put up something original...but because I don't think I can top the clips from last year. And I'm guessing 90% of you didn't see last year's post, and the 10% of you who did have probably forgotten.

That being said, this photo was not presented in last year's post. I pulled this backstage pic for this year's memorial because I think Maurice would appreciate having a certain other one of his attributes honored... (and in case you are the one person in the world who has no idea who the Bee Gees are or don't know which one is Maurice - he's second from the left):

Maurice Gibb

12/22/49 - 1/12/03

This one brings a tear to my eye. Maurice was married to Lulu from 1969-73.



This one makes me smile. It's from a 1970 TV show the Bee Gees (minus Robin) made for their album Cucumber Castle.



An interview from the Mike Douglas Show in 1974. You gotta love how unprepared journalists can be.



This one makes me laugh. Maurice's "My Thing" also from Cucumber Castle in 1970.



This one is sweet. All Maurice with a solo record Railroad, released in 1970.



Maurice takes center stage in 2001 with Man in the Middle.

We miss you, Maurice.

It Is Brain Surgery - Part 5

I was happy when Jaimie asked me to sleep over in her room. Although "sleep" turned out to be a complete misnomer. The kind folks at the hospital rolled in what would double for my bed -- a gurney with a three inch thick Naugahyde-covered mattress, which provided me with a whole two and a half hours of interrupted sleep. Okay, it wasn't just the gurney that was waking me up every ten minutes. It was the girl in the other bed. "I need juice." "I have to pee." "Where's my phone?" "Hand me my computer." "I need more morphine." She could press the feeder button on her morphine pump every 12 minutes but that obviously wasn't enough.

I don't think she slept at all. But she was feeling okay. Actually, better than she should. She was over-friendly to visitors who were merely acquaintances . She was gushing outright love to those who were her friends. And she professed her eternal devotion to her brother, who brought us some lunch before he departed for L.A. Yup. Her behavior was changing. She was flying high as a kite. Every 12 minutes. Another push.

I couldn't stay the second night. I needed to go to Jaimie's apartment and prepare it for her impending homecoming. In other words, maid duty called. I had to strip her bedroom of anything her two cats might have come in contact with so there would be no chance of infection...the greatest risk after brain surgery. The cleaning was not fun, although I did appreciate the full night's sleep. But...when I woke up the following morning there was a voicemail message from Jaimie.

The call had been made at 3:30am. It started out with, "Hi Mom, it's me...don't worry...I just called to let you know I'm fine...I'm still in Paris..." Um, okay. From there her communication skills morph[in]ed into complete gibberish. Numbers mixed with words for no apparent reason or meaning. The whole thing went on for three minutes. In the moment, it was frightening. I was more than a little concerned. I immediately called the hospital. They had taken Jaimie for a CT scan so I had no idea what was going on. I raced over the hospital with my boxing gloves on...my mission?...to get Jaimie off the evil morphine, even if it meant a fist fight with her.

She was back in her room by the time I arrived. She still hadn't slept. And had no idea that she had made the phone call and left the message. But as it turned out, we were on exactly the same page. She had already talked to the nurses and doctors. Not only didn't she want them to stop the morphine, she wanted them to take her off everything. Of course, that couldn't happen but we did get her off the morphine right away - damn, she had a wacky reaction to that shit - and within a few hours she did this:

Finally.

Once she was off the the nasty M drug and she'd had some sleep, I played the phone message for her. We were both rolling on the floor laughing. We had talked about posting it but somehow it disappeared off my phone last month. What made it even funnier was, she later found out that while she was on her "trip" in the hospital she had gone online and actually bought a ticket to Paris. If you learn nothing else from my daily babblings here, learn this: DRUGS ARE BAD. Oh, yeah, and don't give a patient on morphine access to the internet.

One more photo...this became one of our favorites from the hospital stay (Jaimie even put it on my phone as my wallpaper, where it still resides)...

It is a picture of deception. She looks like a war refugee. Upset. Suffering. Struggling. However, in this case it was nothing so dour. I just happened to catch her rubbing her eyes.

This little saga (okay, this long drawn out saga) shall continue on Tuesday (actually, Wednesday because Monday and Tuesday are reserved for tribute posts) with some seriously gory pictures. Be prepared. Not for the faint of heart. Consider yourself warned.

It Is Brain Surgery - Part 4

I waited for the pager to do its little buzzy dance and flash its red lights - I still can't get over that the hospital hands out restaurant pagers to family members to alert us when there's news on the surgery front. The least they could do is include a free piece of cheesecake with the notification. Or maybe during wait so I could pretend I was at the Cheesecake Factory enjoying a leisurely lunch.

I started getting nervous when we hit the two and three quarter hours mark since the surgery was supposed to be only two hours. I checked. No word yet. "But don't worry," she said, "it shouldn't be much longer." Sure enough, it wasn't much longer when the pager finally did its little happy dance. I beelined back to the information desk and was informed that Jaimie was out of surgery, in recovery, and the doctor would be down soon to talk to us.

Okay. That's good news. She's alive. But what about her brain? Is she still intact? Can she think? Can she read? Will she know her name? Or did the supposedly best-neurosurgeon-within-a-few thousand-miles miss when he stuck the shunt through her brain? The nice elderly volunteer lady at the information desk couldn't give me that information.

I wasn't back in my waiting chair two minutes before they called me to the desk again and told me I was to go up to the recovery room. Why? She didn't know, other than to say it was very unusual for a family member to be summoned to recovery. How do I get there? She directed me to go back to where we went into the operating room but not to go in the operating room double doors...instead walk past it and right in front of me would be a door. She went on to tell me there would be no indication on the door, or anywhere in the hallway for that matter, that this door opened into the recovery room. The only sign on the door would be AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. She said I could press the little button next to the door and someone would show me in. I've been in hospitals before and gone through the operation scenario with other family members but I had never experienced anything like this. I began to think the nice elderly information lady with very little information was sending me right into The Twilight Zone.

I rushed to the bank of elevators and kept pushing the elevator button - as if it was going to come any faster - until the elevator doors open. I banged the floor button too. It didn't speed up the ride at all. I was through the elevator doors before they finished opening and speedwalked down the hallway to the secret door. Forget what I said about the eldery information lady not having information...in this instance she was spot-on. The recovery nurse greeted me with, "When she woke up she asked for you. We never let family members in here but kept insisting that she needed to see you, until we finally had to give in." Really? My daughter was insistant? I can't imagine where she picked up that trait.

The nurse cloaked me in my second scrub gown of the day and ushered to Jaimie's bedside. I don't know what I expected to see, but this wasn't it. They had close-shaved the half of her head where they made their incisions and she had a square gauze bandage taped on the top right side of her head and another above/behind her right ear. That was all abit shocking, but what really got me was the expression on her face as she turned her head toward me. As she opened her eyes I could see it. She was sad. Not normal sad. Little girl sad. Which broke my heart.

The first words out of her mouth were spoken in a little girl voice, "Mommy, I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning." I was immediately relieved. She remembered what happened earlier in the day. Her brain was still working. Then she said, "Mommy, it really hurts." I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do to make it better. Which I believe is near the top of the task list a parent is expected to perform. She didn't seem to notice my parental inadequacy as she went on to tell me how she had told the nurses over and over again that she wanted her mommy even though I was not allowed to see her. She told me over and over again that she loved me and thanked me for being there. All the things she probably would not have expressed without whatever designer drugs they were pumping into her arm. But I chose to believe what she said, going as far to decide they were actually injecting her with truth serum. Or maybe the surgeon had actually installed that 'nice chip' I requested just prior to the operation.

I don't even think I was there for three minutes of her sweet nothings before the recovery nurse had had enough of my presence and shooed me out of the room. I went back to the lobby waiting area to let Tyler know all was well and wait for the surgeon to show up for his "everything went well" speech which he did indeed deliver. From there we met up with Jaimie in her room, where she was greeted with flowers sent all the way from the UK by Cucumber Rob.

I know she looks a little out of it in this photo but she was surprisingly alert and joyful. Kind of like the way I was after I gave birth to Tyler medication-free within an hour of going into labor. Jaimie was calling friends on the phone, taking visitors right and left and at one point sending me out to get her an iced mocha at the Coffee Bean. She was full-tilt into some kind of post-op euphoria. On one hand I was thrilled that she was doing so well. But there was also this little voice in the back of my head telling me it was too good to be true.

The Incomplete Brain Surgery Series

I feel bad about not following through on the brain surgery story, especially leaving off with my daughter going into the operating room and never offering up any kind of resolution. So, now's the time to get that one finished.

If you've recently arrived at Everybody I Shot Is Dead you probably haven't read the earlier chapters of this riveting serialization that is the chronicling of my daughter's brain surgery. And if you've been around here and did read the stories way back when, you've probably forgotten all of it.

So, I figured before I move on to Part 4, I'll give everyone a chance to catch up on Parts 1 through 3 and one way or another, I'll be back tomorrow with Part 4.

Here are the easy links:

It Is Brain Surgery - Part 1

It Is Brain Surgery - Part 2

It Is Brain Surgery - Part 3

Enjoy the fun!

For Your Information

Posting on a blog every single day is no easy task. At least for me. I know a few people that post every day and have been for a long time. At least one of those persons manages to write substantial posts that are not only long but are well organized and well written. I appreciate that effort but it also pisses me off.

I'm on Day 8 of my New Year's post daily resolution (although I have amassed at grand total of 10 consecutive posts in 10 days, counting this one). Chug-a-chug-chug. I feel like the Little Engine That Could. Running out of steam.

It's not that I've run out of topics. I can talk/write forever. It's that I really care about what I choose to write about and writing it well. (OK, no comments from the peanut gallery on my success or lack thereof) My problem is that I'm a slow writer. And a really shitty typist. I tend to skip over words when I type. They are there when the sentence is formed in my head but somehow they don't make it to the page, so I always have to go back and reread what I've written for the missing words (sometimes it's just letters - I just added the 'a' to 'wht'). And when I reread I find myself rewriting. Looking for a better way to say the same thing.

Now that you know my (lack of) process, I'm going to ask you a few questions that will surely set myself up for failure. Why? Because most (almost all) of the people who are nice enough to stop by and read my words or look at my pictures never leave a comment. And the questions I'm going to ask require people to comment. Asking questions of people who don't like to comment = FAILURE.

So, let's call these the failure questions:

What do you want me to post?

Do you have any questions (no holds barred) you'd like me to answer?

Hello?

Anybody out there?

Picture of the Day:
Just so you know, when I opened this picture I wanted to reword the questions. Add more details. But if I do that, I'd have to take a new picture. But then you'd never know I did that, would you? I'm so tempted. Somebody get me some handcuffs. Nevermind. I'm strong. I'm not even going to reread this post. Feel free to point out the errors.

Swimming

Since the weather finally warmed up a bit I decided to hit one of my favorite places.

It's where I go to gain twice the definition in half the time of going to a gym.

But more important, it's where I go to forget thought and forget gravity and forget the world outside of my lane. There's nothing more conducive to creativity than being completely enveloped in water.

This is close to what I see when I'm under water and nearing the end of a lap.

I love the way the rigid straight lines lose their edges under the water.

And sometimes it's just fun to splash.

Delaney Bramlett Dies at 69

Wow. I completely missed this news. Delaney Bramlett passed away at UCLA Medical Center due to complications of gall bladder surgery. How the heck does that happen in this day and age of medical miracles?

Bramlett was a brilliant musician. A musician's musician as well. Eric Clapton joined up as a 'friend' to play with Delaney and Bonnie & Friends after they opened a tour with Blind Faith. Clapton subsequently had Bramlett produce his first solo album. George Harrison went to Delaney to learn how to play slide.

Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to shoot Delaney Bramlett, although he was on my list of people I wish I had and would like to (which I plan to post in the not too distance future just in case one of my readers can hook me up). But I do have my own small connection to Bramlett. This past September I designed a CD cover for the European release of Bramlett's Sweet Inspiration which was recorded in 1989.

Booklet Back/Front Cover

Booklet Inside

Here's Delaney and Bonnie with friends Eric Clapton and Dave Mason (I'm not sure on the others)...

If you're interested in the European release of Sweet Inspiration you can order it HERE.

Jon Anderson

Lucky me. I got to shoot Jon Anderson with Yes back in 1975. Brilliant show.

Luckier me. I got to meet Jon Anderson again in June 2008 at his house thanks to Cucumber Rob needing to stop by there for a meeting on our infamous LA>SF>Harmony Festival in Sonoma>LA road trip via Mr. Anderson's abode.

Knowing that we were going to likely be stopping by I printed a bunch of photos from the '75 concert to show Jon. He couldn't have been nicer to me, and even asked if he could keep a couple of the photos. Um...of course. In return he kindly signed this one to me...

I have always had a thing for Jon Anderson's voice. It's like no other. His voice (both speaking and singing) has an indescribable effect on me. Indescribable other than to say that listening to him always makes me feel good.

His cool factor is also raised for me because he has selflessly spent his time inspiring and actually working with high school kids. Check this out...



So, what has made me all gushy over Jon on this first official work day of 2009? Well, I'm working on a little project for Cucumber Rob that involved getting a print approval from Jon.

And Jon just sent me this little email. He wrote, "print away.............and dance...........jon" What was so cooler than cool about that is he also attached one of his tunes to dance to. Gotta love JA.

I now proclaim this "Dance to a Jon Anderson Tune Day." Trust me, it will make you feel good.

Mick Fleetwood - The Show

Following the interview, we (me and the assembled 4 person crew) headed over to the Spotlight 29 casino for the big show. It was mid-afternoon so I figured we'd have plenty of time to suss out the venue and lighting, meet with the sound guy and still have time for a nice sit-down meal before Tyler arrived with one more camera and an operator.

Not.

As it turned out, there wasn't a second to spare between hitting the venue and the doors opening. Fortunately, the band was having one last sound check before the show so we could get the logistics down of where to put each camera/operator and what coverage they were responsible for. It was also an opportunity for the sound guy to set up and figure out his levels.

The people working the venue were amazing and very helpful. The guy running the stage, lights and sound bent over backwards to accommodate our intrusion. We were fixed up with walkies, they assisted us in color balancing the cameras and at the last second provided us with his daughter's TV to use as a monitor for the sound guy, as his gear was set up backstage.

The last and final hurdle I needed to overcome was also the most important. Even though we were shooting footage for a DVD of 'Mick Fleetwood's Island Rumour Band', and it is a "band", I knew the main draw was the man himself, Mick Fleetwood.

When I initially saw Mick's drumkit on stage, I was pretty much freaking out. I immediately walked around in front of and on either side of the stage where I knew we'd have access. There wasn't clear view of Mick to be found. How the fuck was I going to turn in footage of the band with no Mick Fleetwood. Why couldn't he have taken up the guitar or base or been a lead singer?

Imagine trying to get watchable footage from the front of the stage when you can't use a jib and this is the view:



Or even shooting from the sides of the stage when this is the view:


Finally, I mustered up the gall to present the problem to Jonathan (Mick's manager who had been so helpful when we were assembling some unique intelligent questions for the interview) and within minutes he had us cleared to shoot from wherever we needed to be...including Mick's drum riser!

Oh. My. God. Thank. You...for saving my ass.

I put Tyler on the Mick camera since he was the operator I knew best. Here's the view we had as I saw it through my still camera....


The show was amazing. Mick was pounding the drums with the energy of a teenager but the chops of a wiseman. And I can attest to the fact that you haven't lived until you've heard him solo while crouched on his riser mere inches from his kit. His playing moved me to tears...of joy.

I can't remember what time I got home...probably around 3:30am. I was bagged and exhilarated at the same time. But there was still work to do. I had to log all the tapes and put together a camera list. We wanted to import some of the footage but there just wasn't time. We did a quick playback of some of the sound and were happy to hear the quality. We had time to look at a tiny bit of the footage, mostly what Tyler shot, which looked pretty amazing. It would have been great to have one more day to see everything but it all had to leave for a flight to the UK at 6am. And now I can only hope we got what they needed to make a kick-ass DVD.

Thanks to everybody who took part in the craziness...Rob, Jonathan, Deborah (another one), Tyler, Sergio, Andy, Peter, Jeff, Bob, and of course, Mick, Rick and the rest of the Island Rumours Band. You guys (and girls) rock!

Mick Fleetwood - The Interview

The email arrived early on Wednesday, November 12th.

"Are you able to film an interview with Mick Fleetwood and his band on Saturday afternoon in Palm Springs?"

It was originally a question for me to pass on to Tyler, since he's the one that just got out of NYU film school and has the mad shooting and editing skills. But he had a production meeting on Saturday afternoon for some reality pitch he was editing so I stepped in and organized the shoot. I found a guy with a camera and lighting package that could do it within the budget and, just like that, it was a go.

The purpose of the interview was to create a special features segment for a DVD of a concert they shot in London of Mick and his Blues Band. But then everything changed. The fates stepped in on Thursday and I was asked about the possibility of setting up a five camera shoot for the concert Mick was doing on Saturday night with his Island Rumours Band. That meant seeing if I could scrounge up cameras and operators as well as a pro sound crew and putting together a budget that may or may not be approved.

The visual part of it was within my wheelhouse but I didn't have much, if any, experience with sound...especially multi-channel concert recording. I immediately called my friend who has been recording for lots of years with the drummer from a very famous trio (think law enforcement) only to find out that he was unavailable. But he kindly hooked me up with another guy who has a remote recording set-up and has at least one Emmy® to prove his worth.

The budget was miraculously approved on Friday around noon, which sent me into overdrive pulling the whole thing together. Renting cameras, buying tape, lining up the crew and communicating back and forth with the venue and the sound guy for all the technical information that I was previously clueless about.

I was close to death when we headed to Palm Springs in the early hours of Saturday morning...running on no sleep and fighting the onset of a cold which would completely knock me off my feet by Sunday.

When we arrived at the hotel a couple of hours prior to the scheduled interview time, the original place they wanted to do the interview was nixed and we had to come up with a space. The hotel people were super-accommodating and we found a meeting room that we were able to redress into something that was more or less passable. There was a huge lighting glitch - the guy with the camera and lighting package didn't have the lighting part of the package so we punted with a couple of hardware store variety dish lights.

Then there was the problem with the questions that were sent over by some guy in the UK. They were crap. With no time left, three of us plus Mick's manager revised and honed the questions that would be asked of him and guitarist Rick Vito. Turned out both interviewees were great.

Here's a shot of the interview...

Yours truly, Rick Vito and Mick Fleetwood

After the interview was done I bestowed a couple of EISID books on Rick and Mick...

Mick happens to be mentioned in the book as he was 'discovered' and had his first professional gigs because of keyboardist Peter Bardens.

Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow...Mick Fleetwood - The Show.

This Is Embarrassing

I started a post this morning with the best of intentions. It was called "Housekeeping" and was meant to catch up on my lackness (I don't think that's word but you get what I mean) of honor posts.

Today's post started off with the two sentences below and then the list (which would have been replaced with photos and videos) I started making by going through my calendar. While I was in the calendar I decided it would be a great idea to add the b-day d-day dates to each entry which would save me time when I create the blog posts (unfortunately my pea brain can't hold date facts for 48+ musicians). And that's when I realized that I was missing some of the entries. For example, Dennis Wilson was listed on December 28th for his d-day but not on December 4th for his b-day.

After a couple of those popping up I thought it was best to go through the book and double check every musician. Oops. I am missing some of the musicians altogether. Jerry Garcia, for example, has never been individually honored on my blog. I really suck!

So, instead of completing the original post (since it would now be longer than War & Peace), I am making another resolution. Right now I am going to finish going through the book and make sure every musician is on my calendar, and I promise to honor each and every one of them twice a year on their respective dates from this day forward.

Here's the makings of today's original post:

Having spaced for the past couple of months, I missed honoring the birthdays and deathdays of some of the dearly beloved musicians in my book.

This post is for them.

Mike Gibbins d-day 3/12/49-10/4/05
November 24th - Albert Collins D-day although I did acknowledge his birthday on October 1.
December 10 - Ron Aspery D-day
Zappa - 12/21/40-12/4/93
Carl Wilson
Hank Snow
Maurice Gibb
Dennis Wilson
Maureen Starkey
Rick Nelson
John Denver
Check rest of book and add:
Dan Fogelberg
George Carlin
Rick Wright

P.S. One more thing I was going to mention under the "Housekeeping" title is the Steal My Book deal is over as of this Sunday, as well as the specials I've been offering on prints. So, hit me up on the website or email sales@cheshercat.com if you want to save some dough.

Oh, I also promised a photo on every post. This is something I shot in December and could end up in another project I am working on...too early to talk about it though.

Ringing It In

I don't get out much. Dunno why. I just don't. Especially on New Year's Eve. Sadly, I really can't remember the last time I was outside of my house on the biggest party night of the year. I have a vague memory of some party hopping I did in the early nineties. One of the parties was at some condo on Doheny where Phyllis Diller was in attendance amongst other Hollywood luminaries. But since then it's been a night at home consuming a mouthful of black-eyed peas at the stroke of midnight.

Imagine my surprise when I got an invite to a NYE party at The Palace....hmmm...black-eyed peas at home alone or a swanky party at The Palace? Tough decision. Not. Those black-eyed haven't been doing what they're supposed to do for me anyway. Time to step out and see if I can function in a social petri dish where I maybe know 3 people.

First hurdle - What do I wear?

Maybe I should go for something elegant - it is The Palace after all. Scan the closet. I got nothing.

Second hurdle - How do I behave?

I'm a creative type. We're supposed to be esoteric, deep, mysterious and aloof. Let me work on that.

I take a shower - that's where I get my best ideas. The water falls on my head and within 30 seconds I'm creating a dialogue (writer-speak for conversation) with an imaginary cool person I'm positive I'm going to engage at the party. The shit is pouring out of me. My fellow writers would be green. Definitely esoteric, deep, mysterious and aloof. I'm soooo ready.

Back to the closet. Still nothing. Where's my fairy godmother when I need her? Fuck it. I'll go for comfort. Against the grain of the L.A. cool crowd. What do I care? I pull out jeans, a black shirt, black cowboy boots inlaid with snakeskin (which no one will know except me) and my old black leather motorcycle jacket.

Oh, and at the last minute, I decide to take my camera. It's big enough to hide behind. Just in case. And one more thing...my insurance policy...a very hot, very young guy:

So what if he's my spawn. And so what if he bailed on me an hour in. At least I didn't show up a-l-o-n-e. Time to hide behind the camera.

Click:

Cucumber Rob and Counting Crows founder/bassist Matt Malley.

Click:

Four Clarks and the guy on the end.

Click:

Dancing Queen (and King).

Click:

And again.

Then I met this freak...

Click:

...and the banter began. The esoteric, deep, mysterious and aloof dialogue I had worked out in the shower was nowhere to be found. Instead it was an instant uncontrolled match of wits in order to take the piss out of each other. Yup. I digressed into my regular schtick. With a fellow-freak.

Then "the guy on the end" joined the freak fray. He accused me of stealing his camera. I apologized for taking over his job as 'official party photographer' and it went on and on from there. Cutting remarks. Fun, fun, fun. Until Matt (the freak above) let the Chesher Cat out of the bag and mentioned my book to "the guy on the end" and he suddenly flipped out. "You're THAT photographer?" I don't think he knew that I knew who he was but even better than that was the fact that I'd completely forgotten that the Clark's had me sign a book personalized to him which they gifted to him.

He gushed about the book (wow, you really like it?) and, much to the dismay of both of us (because we were really enjoying the pissing contest), our conversation turned semi-serious...you know, to the creative shit we both indulge in on a daily basis. Yup, we had a creative connection of mutual admiration. Even though he's WAY more accomplished than me. Thankfully, it wasn't the esoteric, deep, mysterious and aloof dialogue I had written in the shower. Thankfully.

At some point he picked up my camera insisted on taking my picture...

Click:

No way I was going to give him a good picture. Take that Mr. Durst.

Of course, I then made it my mission to take a bunch of good pictures of him (yes, I'm that competitive)...

Click:

Anybody got a light?

Click:

Jonathan Clarke and "the way too accomplished guy."

Click:
"No, don't do it, Fred! We'll have security remove the paparazzi stalker chick."

My thanks to the Clark's for the invite and for not confiscating my camera (although Daniel did make a play for my memory card at the end of the evening - I'm assuming he meant the one in my camera).

And thanks to evrybody else who played with me. It was a boatload of fun.

Here's the best of the rest (at least the ones that are suitable for posting)...

Click:

Obviously Matt's only hope of getting lucky with his wife.

Click:

The bump still exists!?!

Click:

Look, Cucumber Rob somehow managed to snag a wife.

Click:

Excellent. A new Roger Corman movie.

Click:

True divaism.

Click:

Kissy, kissy.

Click:

Done.

To You and You and You and You...

Wishing you (and me)...

...a stupendously serendipitous 2009!!

A Time for Reflection?

Everybody does it around this time of year, right? Even if they don't admit it. I've been doing it full time since Christmas and off and on for all of 2008. Here's what I've figured out so far...

This year has been a real mixed bag for me. Lots of highs and lots of lows. Dunno why. I rode the high of 2007 for a good six months into '08 but then it mostly crashed and burned. I could really feel the onset of that little thing they were optimistically calling "the economic downturn" before it soon became known as "the recession" and I'm hoping won't become "the depression."

My lowest low came in August with Jaimie's brain surgery fiasco. The surgery itself wasn't a fiasco but everything that's come after it has been and continues to be. Of course, it's much worse for her because she is living it day after day but it definitely eats me up in ways I never expected. To the point that I feel like I had brain surgery too. But instead of installing a shunt in my head, they just decided it was best to remove my brain completely. You know, it's hard for me to be creatively prolific without my brain there to make a modicum of sense out of the sewage that pours out of my heart and soul. It's as if I am suffering from some sort of paralysis...the ideas are all there, swirling like a tornado through Kansas, but then pffft...I realize that I've just lost another hour, day, or week, time traveling in a fog.

Alright, stop right there. What a freakin' downer. More than enough reflection. Best to look forward. Figure out what I'm gonna do about it. How am I going to get back on the track and be the engineer of my life instead of the passenger? How am I going to rise up while the world economy continues to flush itself down the shitter? Is it even possible when most of us are living paycheck-to-paycheck? Uh oh...I don't even get a paycheck. Even so, somehow I've always managed to pull the proverbially rabbit out of the hat and I don't see why that should change now.

I'm not real big on New Year's resolutions. I think they set you up for failure. But I am going to make one. Just one. Seemingly simple. New Year's resolution.

I'm going to post something on this blog every single day in 2009.

Why would I make that my one resolution? Because I figure if I post every day, everything else will stay the course. And let's see...how about with each blog entry I commit to posting a photograph. I think. Maybe. Or. Hmmm. Damn those swirling ideas with no brain to sort them out.

Anyway, if you don't see a new post you'll know I'm dead.

This should be fun.

Paul Butterfield's Birthday

He would have been 66 today, December 17th.

Check this out...the real deal at Monterey 1967:



Wish I coulda' been there.

Steal My Book

I've officially lost my mind!

For a whole lotta reasons I'm putting a last minute blockbuster blowout book sale on my website for the remainder of the month. Brand spanking new books for $25.

It's so low I can't even figure out what the discount is off the retail price. I just know it's even below the distributor price. Definitely below the amazon price. And they're signed. Heck, I'll even personalize them to the person(s) of your choice (now, I've really lost it).

Anyway, for those who are curious, those whole lotta reasons (watch me try and justify this apparent insanity) include but are not limited to:

1. I'm nice
2. I want every person to have a copy of my book
3. One of my distributors is sending back a few hundred books and I have no room for them.
4. It's the holidays and I feel like giving
5. I love you

So, now's the time to get the gift(s) you need for the music lover in your life (which should include everybody). And if you don't have a copy or two for yourself, it's time for you to join EISID owners such as Slash, Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx, and, Rick Vito and Mick Fleetwood caught enjoying their copies right here...

Actually, Mick Fleetwood gets a mention in the book. Do you know who's section he appears in and why?

Coming next...
How I found myself interviewing Mick Fleetwood and Rick Vito, and the show that followed.

Click the STEAL MY BOOK link to the right of this post to get your copy(s) now.

Mill Valley Public Library

I visited the Mill Valley Public Library today. When I was here in October I met a guy at Starbucks who told me about a photo exhibit the library had of a female rock'n'roll photographer who lived in the area. But alas, the only photos they had up were of Mill Valley itself taken from 1908 on. Very cool stuff but the closest one to rock'n'roll was a shot of some retail workers posing in front of their store with Huey Lewis in the late 80s.

While I was there I did something I've never done before. I went on their catalogue computer and looked for my book. Just for fun. Definitely not expecting it to be listed.

But there it was: Chesher, D - Everybody I Shot Is Dead - Cat# 761.88 Status: Check Shelf. How cool is that?

As I walked toward the shelf - a left at the last computer, a couple of aisles down, and take a right - I was thinking it would be fun to put a personal note in the book. I finally found the 761.88 shelf...but my book wasn't there. :-(

I considered asking the librarian about my book...why it wasn't on the shelf, if it was checked out, or maybe stolen?...but then I figured she'd think I was an egomaniac. I mean, what kind of person goes into a library in hopes of seeing their book on the shelf?

Last Saturday Night

I still feel like crap...but here's a photo from the coolness that was last Saturday night. Any guesses on who the three people are in this picture?

Or where it was taken? And why? Being the evil person I am, I blocked out the logo on the bass drum. Sorry. But being the nice person that I am, all will be revealed soon.

Remembering Tom Evans

25 years ago today, Tommy Evans tragically passed away at the age of 36. He was the bass player for Badfinger and co-wrote many of their hit songs with Pete Ham. The story of their rise and fall in the music industry is a truly sad and cautionary tale.

June 5, 1947 - November 19, 1983

He was a sweet and talented man...a huge loss to the music world.

This is a very cool video that features Tommy Evans on vocals:

I'm Back...Almost

I would really attempt to write a full blown post...if I wasn't sweating like a penguin waddling along the Equator, and hacking like a 70 year old alcoholic with a three pack a day habit.

Check back in a day or two and I promise I'll have my story of my cooler than cool Saturday, complete with pictures.

Time to sleep off the remainder of this piece of shit illness that I think I picked up at the virus-infested American Film Market a week ago Sunday.

Later.

John Denver

Eleven years ago today, an experimental airplane piloted by John Denver plunged into the ocean off the coast of California. A huge loss.

John Denver
12/31/43 - 10/12/97

Fly high, John.

Ronnie Barron's Birthday

The late great Ronnie Barron would have been 65 today.

I took this photo of him when he was playing with Paul Butterfield's Better Days. He also played with John Mayall when I was working with John on my Starart book.

Unfortunately, Ronnie is one of the musical talents that has slipped through the cracks since he passed away, even though he had a substantial influence on music. I only found one video of him on youtube which was put up in June. The quality is crap but it's still worth a play.



Happy Birthday, Ronnie!

The Iceman

It's Albert Collins' 76th birthday today.

Nobody's cooler than the Iceman.

You can all chill to this...

Happy Birthday to the cool of cool.