Windsor aka Wheezy aka Cheese Dog!

So when I was about 6 years old, around first grade, our family made the big move from a particularly nasty area of inner-city Detroit to the suburban wonderland that is Dearborn, world headquarters for the lamest owner in sports, William Clay Ford, but I digress. Now we had room and needed a dog, of course. So Dad found an Old English Sheepdog at some farm that I recall being somewhere west of Ann Arbor, though I can't be sure as the memories are fuzzy now at my advance age. We got a puppy that we dubbed Barney and he was a great dude that I took much care of until he left this mortal coil around my junior year of high school. He developed some varied health issues and needed to be put to sleep but he lived a full life.

Fast forward about 15 years without a dog and the ex and I have acquired our first house in Portland in mid-1996. As we settle in we settle on the fact that we need a dog particularly since our house already came with a completely fenced in yard. I can be convincing at times and the choice was made to acquire another OES. Early spring of 97' rolls around and I am on the hunt. I locate one in the want ads of the Oregonian and the deal sounds too good to be true-$100 including a large transport crate. Heck, those things ran about $150 new back then.

We visit the couple with the OES (she's got papers and she goes by Elsie-yuck!) and the story is that they got her as a puppy from a respected breeder after the last of their kids went off to college. Turns out, bad planning as he is a building contractor and she is a real estate agent they don't have the time to care for her and train her properly as she now approaches age two. At first I was hesitant. Yes, it was clear that they didn't have time to take care of her-in fact, they had her coat sheared and she looked goofy all buzzed. Second, she seemed a tad rambunctious. Well, I thought, I am always up for a challenge. They liked the fact I knew the breed and even arranged to drive across town and drop her off. Oh my...

It was very apparent immediately that Windsor (as we dubbed her-gotta keep with the British Isles names) had almost no training, no barriers at all. She was bonkers to say the least. All energy, all random action. We didn't know what to do and Cyndy was openly distraught. Well, after a month of this chaos, we learned about this ex-Marine dog trainer who did things differently. Instead of paying for a set of classes or by the class, his deal was you paid a one time flat fee. Not cheap. But he guaranteed success no matter how many sessions it took until you were happy with the results. If it took 10 sessions, so be it. If it took 50, fine. Well dang, it worked after about 15 sessions. Of course most of the training was training us what to do. That was fine. I was only interested in results and it worked.

Shortly thereafter we took Windsor on her first trip with us for a week for our first time all the way down the glorious Oregon coast camping and rafting and then inland for hanging/hiking at Crater Lake NP. She did alright for the most part (except for the time she jumped out of the car with the window rolled down while we were crawling through the campground-she was fine-and the time she accidentally nipped my nose all open and bloody while barking at a semi trailer truck loudly going by while she was leashed in the back seat) and it looked like a long term match for sure.

In short time, she developed into our greatest bud. Curiously, she loved other people but had almost no tolerance for her canine peers. She learned to roller blade (well, as in, I roller bladed down the street as she pulled me with all her might while I veered back and forth like a was water skiing holding her leash-it was the neighborhood sensation). And she even learned to fetch instead of herding, a genetic trait she would roll out on occasion that cracked everyone up.



Through thick and thin she has always been there for me with a big wet tongue, her prancing antics and ready for a lay on-the-back belly rub with her back legs kicking. I am writing this as she turns fourteen today which is marvelous and almost unheard of for OESs and almost all other breeds of her size (she once weighed 85 lbs. but is down to 77 which is normal at her age). Essentially, she is in great shape and usually very healthy with no illnesses. Yes, of course, she is suffering from the vagaries of old age (her hearing is diminished, her eyesight is down to about 25% which is not a big deal for dogs as they don't really rely on sight so much anyway and her joints have gone downhill in the past two years-she's on a joint medication prescription which helps but she can still smell her beloved cheese from across the room). She can hardly run anymore but she tries when we hit the nearby park-she's a trooper and I adore her. Something tells me she still has another year or two left in her-as long as I am around to lift her off the Spanish tile that she prefers to lay on despite the fact that I have large area rugs for her around my house-I guess being English she is a bit stubborn, particularly in old age.

The Greatest Albums of All Time In No Particular Order (entry # 3)

Wire- 154 (1979)

Can never figure out the Wire fans who consistently list this last out of the first three albums. Pink Flag has it's moments but most of it's attempts at "punk rock" or whatever are cringe-worthy and embarrassing at times but understandable on a first release. Chairs Missing ups the ante and finds them branching out and finding their sound more without regard to the prevalent punk attitude of 1978. 154 (supposedly named after the number of gigs they had done up to the time of this recording) solidifies their unique vision and around 1979 only PIL and Joy Division share a similar uniqueness of sound that defy pigeon-holing in the post-punk realm and explores whole new possibilities of style and sound. In fact, they worked with producer Mike Thorne on this who later worked with the likes of John Cale, The The, Laurie Anderson and Soft Cell. Thus, it makes sense that they broke up after this masterpiece (how could they top it?) and haven't even come close since reforming and mostly dabbling in electro-punk-pop (or something like that).

Side one is simply a masterpiece and easily outdoes side two but that is no slight. It starts off languidly and stoicly with “I Should Have Known Better” with deep tenor vocals by bassist Graham Lewis. This start is juxtaposed by the short, aggressive alienated art-punk numbers “Two People in a Room” and “The 15th” sung by Colin Newman. “The Other Window” is otherworldly with a plaintive spoken word account by Graham from a train seat augmented by eerily echoed guitar lines. Shortly thereafter, the side nears an end with the epic and bombastic “A Touching Display” that builds in facets and haunted by Graham's vocals.

Side two is the “poppier” side for lack of a better term. “A Mutual Friend” followed by “A Blessed State” reminds one of an Eno piece circa “Another Green World”-lilting approaches with lots of open space and exotic Hawaiian style guitar effects. Ironically, the “hit” (after all, they were signed to a major label deal of sorts in the U.S. but of course the label didn't know what to do with them ) “Map Ref. 41N 93W” is probably the most straight forward pop track on the album, seemingly a left over from the Chairs Missing sessions. The album closes with the mountingly claustrophobic “40 Versions” building to a crescendo and a feedback embellished crash.

I first got this album in late 1980 and it's production values and sound still sound classic today and have stood the test of time-Radiohead, who I do enjoy only wish they could come up with something this original-but in their defense it was already done. I've listened to thousands of albums in a quarter century (it simply blew my mind when I came across it in high school) and 154 remains easily embedded in my all time Top Ten. Indeed, they were the post-punks beating Pink Floyd at their own game around the time they came out with the splendid “The Wall”.

Coolin' In Cartagena

In 2002, a year after a great... introduction to South America with two weeks in Brasil, the ex and I found ourselves in a situation with enough frequent flier miles to do a round trip to the Caribbean/Central America. We ended up going to Isla Margarita (off the coast of Venezuela and part of it) and Trinidad. We had researched Colombia too but after reading the U.S. State Dept. report at the time that issued a strong travel warning, we stayed a little east. Now there has been a reversal-Venezuela is a mess (during my time in Colombia I met some Canadians who started in Venezuela but high-tailed it to Colombia due to all the hassles in Chavez loco-land) and Colombia is the place to go as two term president, Alvaro Uribe, has managed to stabilize much politically and economically over the past 5-7 years.

In late 06' while in Vietnam, met a Brit who said he spent 2-3 months wandering around Colombia a year or two before and he said it was fantastic. And then in mid 08', Anthony Bourdain debuted his episode on it on "No Reservations" on the Travel Channel and he raved about it calling it a “vacation wonderland” & I was sold.

http://anthony-bourdain-blog.travelchannel.com/read/colombia-vacation-wonderland

Just had to figure when I might go. Well, in mid-February I managed to start chatting with a linda nurse chica named Lyz online and on skype so now I had a good reason to get there ASAP. After some planning and parlaying some sky miles and a cheap international fare from Miami (it's less than 3 hours to Cartagena), I was on my way in late March.

Well I recently got back from Cartagena (plus a few days near Santa Marta and Tayrona NP up the coast a few hours toward Venezuela at a really nice and inexpensive all inclusive resort) and it was truly amazing-it is still truly a hidden gem as far as most tourists go. The historic old walled city is amazing-it is clean and ultra safe, well taken care of with lots of culture/history and everything was vibrant. About a week in, Lyz and I decided to eat at La Cevicheria where Anthony started his episode but Jorge, his host for ½ of the episode wasn't there that night. But we stopped by a week later as things were getting busy for the upcoming Easter holiday and he was there and showed him a pic I have of me and a friend with Anthony in Portland Oregon and it cracked him up and he said he needs to be back in touch with Tony. BTW, on our first night together, we ate at another great place, La Vitrola, which has garnered an international reputation.

The greater Cartagena area is easy to get around without a lot of traffic (the population is only about a million). And most things are quite affordable from apartment rentals to food to taxis. I stayed in Laguito, a beach neighborhood and a ten minute taxi ride to Centro (the old walled city) is always about $2-3 one way. The actual beach here and at nearby Boca Grande are typical urban beaches which resemble the scene in Rio at Copacabana and Ipanema. However, there is less of a beach culture here and the beaches aren't as nice so that part of it doesn't measure up. However the more Caribbean beaches near Santa Marta and Tayrona NP are spectacular. In fact the mellow beach at the National Park is called “Cristal Playa” for a good reason.

http://travel.webshots.com/album/571069118WQYLZO

Yes, I was pleasantly surprised by Colombia, particularly Cartagena. I could see myself living there some day. It's in the central time zone and only 3 hours from the U.S. as I mentioned. The climate is mild. It was about 85 every day I was there and it didn't rain once. There is some mid day humidity but the kicker is the full sea breeze that permeates the city every day in the afternoon and into the evening. And I can certainly not complain about strolling around the breezy Centro most evenings.

The Greatest Albums of All Time In No Particular Order (entry # 2)

Shock Headed Peters- Not Born Beautiful (1985)










This unfortunately completely obscure act was fronted by Karl Blake, a descendent of the poet William Blake (it seems from my research). Hence, there is a poetic and quite literary bend to the guitar noise mayhem utiliized at times (it has been noted he adored Black Sabbath and Vanilla Fudge at a time that it was not so cool to do so) and augmented it by pastoral passages of very, very traditional British motifs both in music and in words via the “Beat” style of poet/singer/reader Rod McKuen, an American. So that is all very easy to digest and get, right?

In short, there is no band out there that sounds like these guys-then or now or ever. That is a very good thing indeed-they are iconoclastic and singular and I find this album to be seminal and otherworldly straddling many styles and centuries of musical influence. Though only one song from this album (Say No to Funk) is currently on their myspace page, you will get a sense of their diverse sound approaches by visiting it here:


http://www.myspace.com/shockheadedpeters


The album kicks off with “Say No to Funk” which is sorta funky but all over the place with military/heavy metal drumming and thick riffs and echoed chanted vocals augmented by a slow falsetto chorus with deadly harmonica lines. Yeah, that all makes sense in just over 2 minutes. Next up, “Ideal” seems to be fronted by a harpsichord riff in a baroque style that IDs what all majestic Brits circa 1800 wanted-”I want a house with big thick doors big brown room and rippling fires and real big chimneys”. Perhaps this “ideal” was lifted from one of William's poems? I do not know, it does not matter. This tune is among the most soothing I have ever encountered and Karl's voice is haunting and illuminating. “Chatel D'Amour” follows with a love death dirge with delicous e-bow guitar effects. Karl emotes with the opening lines that define it all: “My girl's so nice, she wears pink dress, she likes strangers, I can't say I do.” It appears the relationship is not all that good. “Dog Eats Dog Eats Dog” is next, with coy flute and thick bass counteraction building to a frenzy of jazz sax chaos. Side one closes with “Bad Samaritan”, a litany of church bells and bird songs that morphs into another dirge, although more like an industrial one similar to those of Throbbing Gristle accompanied by the closing line of the title “We're not born beautiful”.

Side two starts off with “Parabola”, a disappointing throw away new wavey track that is inexplicably featured as one of the five on their myspace page so you draw your own conclusion by listening to it there. But redemption is next in the form of “Miserable Worm”, another lovely baroque dirge highlighted by Karl's deep and poetic vocal approach. The hits keeps coming with “Mons Repos” all dark violins and spaghetti western guitars and sinister vocals describing a place “'round here” you do not want to be. “Wheel in the Bait” is much like “Parabola” in approach though more accomplished in execution. Finally, the coda, is “Kissing of the Gods”, the simplest track on the album, a plaintive cry of despair augmented only by sparse piano, bass and vocals that get to the gut as Karl states “I think locked in a cage puts all heaven in a rage”.

This album is one I return to again and again as it has a timeless quality almost 25 years later. They all should. Very few do as we all know.

A Carnaval "Tail"

As I have previously mentioned, I have been to Brasil and Rio de Janeiro many times. In 2006, I lived there for two months starting in late January and Carnaval started about a month later. Oh my, what a festa. Probably never to be repeated in my life (even though I do plan to move there someday soon and be an ex-pat) as I do plan to keep living and living thru another the way I did it the first time will probably kill me as I enter old age.

This year it starts this weekend, hence the new entry (though festivities start a few days earlier-after all it is officially a 4 day party starting on a Saturday and ending on a Tuesday, Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras, 40 days before Easter and then there is Lent and all that massive fun, blah, blah, blah.). Though it's all about the Catholics as a non-believer in all dudes in the sky who look over us, I will say that it is my fav religion of all time if I was forced to pick one (despite having a little issue with the celibate priest thang which obviously tends to lead to diddling little altar boys and worse, right?).

Why? In short, you are allowed to confess your sins at “church”, says a few (or many as directed by the priest) Hail Marys and you are absolved and back to do all the bad things you were doing before (drinking, stealing, fornicating, etc.) and you are in great shakes until you feel guilty again and go back to confess and start the whole ludicrous cycle again. How great is that!!!??? It seems to work well for Brasilians as they seem to greatly enjoy all those things previously mentioned. To further elaborate on this, I learned that in Rio very few of the “beach set” go to church on Sunday morning at all. Why? Well they have to sleep off the late night before and head to the beach in the early afternoon. Therefore, the “smart” local churches also hold an evening service after it is dark. Hey, one must have priorities, right?

The great thing about Carnaval is that you can endeavor in even worse behavior while it is on! After all, it literally translates as “removing of meat” or “eating meat”. I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty sexual along the lines of having a nasty sexual appetite. And that certainly defines the attitude of Cariocas (the term given to an inhabitant of Rio) during Carnaval and after it and before it and well, 365 days a year so there goes the whole Popes plan to get every one to wait until MARRIAGE to get it on. Duh.

In short, the Rio Carnaval is not only the biggest Carnival, the benchmark against which every other carnival is compared but also one of the most interesting artistic events on earth. Pretty much everyone has heard of the Rio Carnaval unless they do not like watching perfect female specimens shaking their bundas at 200 beats per minute.

Yes, Carnaval 2006 was almost the death of me. I spent the week with the lovely Patricia who I met through a friends of hers and for about 6 days the festa was non stop. Formal street parties and informal beach festas. Events at elegant clubs. An erotic ball at Scala. The many Samba parades at the Sambodromo that start each each night at about 9 pm and can last until 7 am with each Samba school strutting down the massive runway (and, unfortunately, with each school basically playing a very similar samba beat and song OVER AND OVER again and for the uninitiated it may be the height of boring repetition but it was still a once in a lifetime spectacle. The one night we went we got there at 10 and stayed till 4 am and I was a zombie by then and finally got home at 6 and crashed shortly thereafter). Yet no matter what we were doing, every night followed the same schedule.

In closing, many bad, bad things happened. But as Patricia and all other Brasilians explained, “It's “bom” (OK), it is Carnaval. You can do anything. Anything at all!” I did. And that is good. The end.

The Greatest Albums of All Time In No Particular Order (entry # 1)

The Stooges – The Stooges (1969)

First off I know I am going to get guff that this is not even the Stooges best album. Yes, there are a billion devotees of “Funhouse” and “Raw Power” each. Well, F off. It's my list, remember??? I even had a “tete a tete” with the noted chef/TV personality, “Mad” Anthony Bourdain, on this matter when my hockey mate and fellow U-M sports aficionado, Brendan, attended his book signing/dinner at the Heathman Hotel (Tony's a good bud of the chef there) in June of 06'. Well of course he prefers “Funhouse”-he readily admits to being a horse jockey/junkie in the 70s so it makes all kinds of sense. Whereas, the first album seems to be all speed and weed to me. So I presume, that is my bias, OK???

I start here because very recently Stooges guitarist, Ron Asheton, left this mortal coil (usefull trivia-Circle Confusion's drummer, Aaron Jones, lived across the street from Ron-both of their moms owned the houses they lived in) which is a shame. The first Stooges album is both a classic AND incredibly influential. To me, it is punk before there was punk after there was punk. While the only true Sex Pistol album, “Never Mind the Bollocks” is all fun and good, it's clearly a joke compared to this album. This disk is pure nasty, skanky, horrifying SE Michigan/Detroit death at its finest. It is dirty and grimy and ugly and sexy and hot. Just like most of the chicks in the area.

You got two songs directly about chicks (“Ann” and “Little Doll”). You have to wonder who were these chicks and what were they like in the “flesh”. They must have been something to drive the Igster wild the way they did (Iggy trembles to start in Ann, “You took my arm and you broke my will”). “Ann” continues, creepily builds to a crescendo of the most direct, heaviest, brutal and beautifully repetitious guitar attack ever laid down that pounds your noggin over and over again. You will know this if you have listened to the remastered sessions released in 07' because back in the day record companies tended to fiddle with and cut tracks after the sessions in order to make songs shorter and the Stooges had zero control over this as did producer John Cale. The remastered version that finally saw the light of day thankfully lets this riff roll and roll for about 4 mind numbingly glorious minutes while the original version only had about 30 seconds of this. In short, longer is always better.

What else? Oh, where to begin. So start at the beginning. “1969” says it all about the times, particularly after the race riots of Detroit in the summer of 68' and the much needed death of the hippy joke of SF/Haight “hate” Asbury. Then there is “I Wanna Be Your Dog”-the greatest love song ever written I do declare. Side two leads off with “No Fun”-the box end to “1969”-man, it's a bad year but the hate is great for the Stooges-at least there is confrontation and they are “alive”. But then they say screw that, we didn't mean it with “Real Cool Time” but wait a minute, she's “Not Right” (are they referencing the previous track, the aforementioned “Ann”-who knows or cares-every time I'm listening my skull is having a real cool time as “Little Doll” closes it out.).

So yes, there is room to argue on the merits of their first three proper albums before their early 70s breakup. But at least they called it quits in time (I do politely discount the reunion and the new album from last year-at least they stayed apart for twenty five years or so before deciding to cash in a little-assholes). Sonic Youth, who did a great cover of “I Wanna Be Your Dog” early in their career could most certainly learn a lesson though it appears to be too late.

Mi Casa en el Burque

So when I decided to leave PDX once and for all at the beginning of 07', I landed in the Land of Enchantment in late March after an excursion to Perth, OZ (to finally see my old matey Nathan from my time in Japan who had finally “retired” to the area of his birth after over a decade in Nippon), Bali and Vietnam. Of course, I wasn't going to buy a house right away-had to check out the hoods particularly since ABQ does have a rep for some sleazy areas, so I did a 6 month rental near the UNM campus. In the fall I started scoping out neighborhoods more seriously and at first my luck was not good-lots of overpriced houses needing lots of work. But after about a month I found a great place and went about making my pitch/offer and since the market was down (though not as bad as much of the rest of the country), I had some leverage as well as a seller motivated to move the house-it had been on and off the market for about 6 months and she had already bought and moved into a new house.

In short, my low ball deal went through at the end of the year and in comparison I got a better house with more space (though yes, much less land though I do not miss cutting grass or raking leaves so really there is no trade off) in a nicer and quieter neighborhood at almost half the price of PDX just a few miles farther from downtown than in Portland but only about 2-3 miles from the Sandia Mountains with a full front view of the range. Additionally, there is a great park a block away for Windsor sniff around in, a police substation a block away just in case, a post office a block away and a good sized library branch 4 blocks away. And my hockey rink is only 7 miles away straight up Tramway Blvd., next to the noted Tram that goes up to the peak of the Sandias, the world’s longest passenger aerial tramway. My place is solid and very Southwestern style in décor and design with an open 400 sq. ft. main room as well as 6 skylights throughout so I can take advantage of New Mexico's greatest asset, sun.

In closing, more on the Burque and the “Land of Manana” to come down the line.