Author Archives: Unsigned Podcast

Critters in the yard

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Night time sure brings out the critters in our neighborhood.

I was freaked out to discover there is a family of skunks living amongst us. I took out one of the dogs for a late night potty break and ran up on them in the driveway. It is an obvious mother skunk with 4 babies, although the babies aren’t tiny – they are about half the size of the mother. They are the weird mostly white color of skunks. Not like the Pepe Le Peu cartoon skunk that is almost all black with just a little white stripe. These skunks are about half white. At least that makes them easier to see in the dark – so I turned a 180 and cut short the potty break.

This morning we detailed the yard and got up any and all trash or food source that they could get into and I replaced the lightbulb at the back door so we don’t walk out of the basement in the dark and unexpectedly encounter Mama Pepe or any of her brood.

Nine Lives

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They say, “a cat has nine lives.”

They call musicians, “cats.”

I wonder if musicians have nine lives?

Or is there some other meaning to Steve Winwood’s newest album, “Nine Lives”? Has Steve gone through 8 of them already and this is his last? Scary thought, especially if he believes that. There is nothing in the liner notes – yes, I read all the liner notes in every album – to explain the title of this album. I don’t get it – so I’m going to have to dig deeper.

Steve Winwood and his songwriting partner, Godwin, wrote every song on the album. There’s only 9 songs on the album – a little light on the load for today’s typical CD. On the other CDs that I bought today, there are 13 on Willie’s, 11 on John’s, and 14 on Tom’s. (Can you guess the last names of these 3? I’ll talk about those in other posts, so read on, my friends. Heh heh.) So I guess Steve is having us pay for quality – not quantity.

On the first track, Steve plays all the instruments himself. But the reason I bought the album, unheard, is that I know his good friend, Eric Clapton plays a kick ass guitar solo on the song, “Dirty City.” This is depressing look at a working man’s life with an odd upbeat, and it lasts 7 minutes 44 seconds. Another great bathroom break song for the radio DJs, and my favorite of all the tracks.

Geneology

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I’ve always counted on my younger sister to keep track of the family members. She keeps a list of everyone’s address, their birthdays, anniversaries and handles all the general family duties. She has even started researching out family tree and has been compiling names and contact information for lots of great aunts and great uncles and cousins removed and all that.

One side of our family includes the Scottish clan MacKenzie, and sis has been collecting information about the design of the tartan and other interesting tidbits of our geneology. She even came across a very old prayer evidently from hundreds of years ago that gives you pause to reflect on how life was back in the day:

The MacKenzie Clan Prayer

Bless a’ the MacKenzies an’ a’ the Mackenzie childer; their sons
an’ son’s childer and their dochiter’s for a thousan’ years to come.

Be Ye gracious an’ send doon mountains o’ snuff,
an rivers of whiskey.

An’ oh lord send doon swords an’ pistels an’ daggers
as monie as the sands on the seashore
to kill the MacDonalds, the Clan Ranalds, and the Campbells.

An oh Lord, bless the wee coo, an’ make it a big coo.

An oh Lord bless the sucklin’ and make it a grand board.

An oh Lord, bless the wee bairns, yon Angus,
Alex an’ Bessie an’ Maggie an’ Florrie.

An oh Lord, build up a great wall between us an’ the Irish,
an’ put broken bottles on the top, so they cannae come over.

An’ oh lord, if ye hae anything gude to gie, dunna gie it to the Irish,
but gie it to your chosen people, the Scots,
especially to the Clan MacKenzie an’ a’ their friends.

Glorious ye are for ever more.

Home Decor Includes Clocks

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The wife says we should be getting our “economic stimulus” check from Uncle Sam just about any day and has been day dreaming about what we should spend it on. Last night we surfed a few web sites and did a little shopping to make up a wish list and budget our anticipated money.

One site that I particularly liked was 1-800-4clocks which is all about clocks, especially grandfather clocks. I never realized there were so many different kinds of grandfather clocks and so many different things to consider before purchasing one.

First of all, there is the clock maker to consider. The long established and top brand names include Howard Miller, Hermle, Seth Thomas and Bulova. Of course there are others, but those are the ones that I recognized right off and the ones that I focused on shopping.

Then you have to choose the clock cabinet style and type of wood finish or metal color. Then there is the clock face to consider and you also choose the chimes. On the 1-800-4clocks website they have a little button that lets you listen to samples of the different chimes. That is a nice feature, because I wouldn’t otherwise know the difference between the different ones, although once you hear them you think, “Oh! Of Course!” because you do recognize them after hearing them.

The website even has a blog that is a collection of short articles relevant to grandfather clocks. I read the post titled, “Grandfather Clocks Help Define Decor” and knew right away that we should go ahead and make buying our new grandfather clock a priority, and it appears the wife agrees!

Good-bye, George Carlin

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This is pretty freaky. Last Friday we were just talking about George Carlin. His name came up at the convenience store while standing in line, and then we talked about him on the ride home. A few years ago we went to a performance he did here at the Ryman Auditorium. We scored the most excellent seats, second row, just slightly off center stage, thanks to my friend at the radio station. We “won” them.

Anways, just as I was heading to bed I heard the talking head on the local news mention that George Carlin has passed away. Another shocker for the weeked – we figured George was so nasty and incorrigible that he’s be around for another 20 years. But it turns out that his heart gave out and he died in L.A., the Land of Angels.

So, good-bye, George – thanks for the years of laughter at your observations and your jokes. I grew up listening to your sarcasm and jokes pointed at our boomer generation. We’ll miss you.