The Tale of The Screaming M*therf*cker

I live in suburbia. When I moved here 11 years ago I felt like Edward Scissorhands except there was no castle up on the hill. I could relate to his stunned look as he looked at the small trees and vinyl wonderland. I had lived in slums and old pads for the last 20 years. I grew up in suburbia but that was a long time ago in a faraway place called Knollwood Manor. I have 4 kids living at this house. The 4 year old and the 9 year old love to play in our sort of secluded driveway on Tricycles, Bikes and scooters. We had two razor scooters that were old and beat up. They sat out in the weather for years but they still worked well. One night somebody stole them out of our driveway. This caused some distress and much discussion amongst the family. The 4-year would walk around saying loudly “someone stole the scooters”. The 9 year old would mourn the loss of scooters. One early evening a bout a week later the 9-year runs into the living room in a panic shouting “someone is stealing our tricycles.” I was pissed about the scooters and thought these guys must be back. I was going to get them. I tore to front door and couldn’t get it unlocked fast enough. I ran out the front door and down the sidewalk screaming; I’m gonna kick your ass you m*ther f*ckers! I was trying to scare the hell out the robbers to gain an upper hand and hopefully they would drop the trikes and run. Well, the robber turned out to be a 3 year old down the street neighbor. Her parents and two siblings were standing in my neighbor’s driveway talking to my next-door neighbors. There I was, a wild haired, alienated musician type screaming obscenities. I stopped in my tracks and started apologizing immediately. I am still embarrassed. The neighbors were very cool about it and have continued to wave at me in the suburban way. They even sent us a Christmas Card. The kids didn’t even know what was going on but man oh man. Too much time in iffy neighborhoods for me. I have used this defense before and it works but this time I cringe with the memory.

the day the christmas tree fell

Christmas Time is Here so the song says. Man oh man the kids run around about to jump out of their skins.
We got the tree Friday. David the 18 year old didn't go this time. Me, Sarah 14, Madeline 9 and Liza 4 went off in my Vibe to get the tree. The tree place is the same one we go to every year. They drill holes in the trunk of the tree so you can put it on their stand. I bought the stand. They work pretty well and are the easiest yet. So Liza runs all over the place for 15 minutes or so and then we get the bet tree. It is a big fat white pine. We go home and I put it up.
Then I drink some and put on lights. The tree is pretty stable I think. I won't tie it off this time. I usually put some string around the trunk and tie it to the wall so it won't fall. The kids put the decorations on and it looked quite splendid indeed. Saturday was just another rainy day. Kids bouncing of the walls. I am in the the kitchen and suddenly I hear a whomp. I run into the room where the tree is and the tree is flat on the floor! I think oh no, Liza is under there. No, Liza is in the other room. She ran when the tree started coming down after she pulled it. What a mess. Every ornament fell off. Some were smashed. Karen and I finally got it tied up so it would not fall again. Madeline and I redecorated it. Everything is ok. I asked Liza later, did you pull the tree down? Yes, she said. Did you run when it started falling. Yes.

Speakeasy Jazz: Thanks For The Memories

The Speakeasy Jazz club in Winston-Salem has closed down for good. Six years is a pretty good run for a Jazz club in Winston-Salem. I have to say I think I win the prize for the most gigs played there. I played the weekly Wednesday open mic jazz jam night for 5 years, I think. Might have been four. The house band had a lot of different people in it over the years. Roberto OrihueIa-vibes host, Ken Rhodes-piano, Colin Tribby -drums and me on bass was the last group. Some others that I played there with in the house band were: Jim Hoyle-drums,Herb Stephens-guitar host, Wayne Smith-piano, Bill Jordan-guitar, Dave Fox-piano, Mike Collins-guitar, John Wilson-drums, Shirazette Tinnin-drums, Abdullah Rahman-drums, Max Wood-drums, Bob Sanger-piano, Melva Houston-Vocals host, Reggie Buie-piano, Steve Bowers-Sax/host, John Mochnick-piano, Everett Funch-drums, and more but I can't remember who. I saw all kinds of stuff come through that night. Great musicians and all other types. Sometimes I find it amazing what people will get up on stage and do. We never had butt-bongo night like we did at Leon's (r.i.p.) but that's probably all for the best. I think I did open mic there for 7 years. I played Speakeasy Jazz with my group the Matt Kendrick Unit quite a few times, 8 Upfront, Four For One , Ken Rhodes Trio, Roberto Oriheula, Melva Houston, Cle Thompson and many others. I will miss having a jazz club here in the Twin City. The Speakeasy was a very nice, good looking club with a good PA and a good piano (a rarity for sure). Over the years Connie And Heidi (the owners) worked tirelessly to make the place a success. The sound of the club improved yearly thanks to Connie's care and diligence. The food was good and the drinks strong. Heidi makes exceptional martinis. I don't how or why but she has the magic martini touch. Good beer was on tap also. Gaelic Ale and Oatmeal Porter plus Foothills brews.

The people that hung out there were very nice and I will miss seeing them on a regular basis. Love to all from this time in history. Thanks Connie and Heidi for the memories. Thanks for the work too. Clubs come and clubs go but the musicians always remember them even from way back when.

Video of Open Mic Night

Melva Houston-vocals Sammy Anflick-drums Dave Fox-piano Roberto Orihuelia-vibes Matt Kendrick-bass

Obama's "Yes we can" section of his speech in NH

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no
matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can withstand the
power of millions of voices calling for change.
We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will
only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been
asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against
offering the people of this nation false hope.
But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been
anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible
odds; when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't
try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a
simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.
Yes we can.
It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the
destiny of a nation.
Yes we can.
It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail
toward freedom through the darkest of nights.
Yes we can.
It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and
pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.
Yes we can.
It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the
ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.
Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and
prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this
world. Yes we can.
And so tomorrow, as we take this campaign South and West; as we learn
that the struggles of the textile worker in Spartanburg are not so
different than the plight of the dishwasher in Las Vegas; that the
hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are
the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we
will remember that there is something happening in America; that we
are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people;
we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter
in America's story with three words that will ring from coast to
coast; from sea to shining sea - Yes. We. Can.
Barack Obama 2008

The Dole Drums

Libby, Libby, Libby, go back to Kansas. Go run for the Senate in Kansas where you have lived since 1975.
Mostly she is a D.C. political animal. GO AWAY.

Libby Dole is from Salisbury but hasn't lived there since the fifties the 1950's. She is from Kansas or D.C. for that matter. She has nothing to do with N.C. She is an impostor, a carpet bagger, a power monger at our expense. Boot this lying politician out of our state now.

furniiituurrre market

gggo to high point, drive around, go to loading dock, unload bass, leave bass on giant indoor dock, hope the people "watching it" are cool, drive around and find parking place, walk a long way back to dock, take bass and stuff to the giant elevator, wait a long time, ride upstairs, schlep bass and all through very busy kitchen and dining room to little stage, find out you have one quarter of stage to put the trio on, get set up just so, crazy event planner tells you what to do over and over, event planner tells us what to do some more, the event planner is still telling us the same thing, maybe this is harder then it seems, event planner is still explaining when there is a drum roll, play some tunes, event planner comes and tells us not to stop between songs, event planner is circling finger, set ends, go find place where there is supposed to be some food, no food, event planner comes in and explains with more detail on how to play drum rolls, walk on music and make announcements, leader finally tells her to stop, event planner says I'm just trying to make sure everything goes just right, I don't want to get an attitude, bass player asks are you sure?, event planner gets mad and leaves us alone, sit on stage for an hour or more and listen to stories about ceo's. play drum rolls and walk ons, gig ends, carry everything to giant elevator, back to loading dock, walk to cars, back to dock, load up go home. total time 7 hours.

L.I.Z.A.

It was a beautiful day. Perfect fall. Clear, temperate and sparkly. I took my 4 year old, Liza, to Reynolda Gardens .

She ran all over the place. It's great; fountains, flowers, big fields, trees, a giant house.

We paled up with another family with a 4 and a 2 year old. They had some balls, so we threw balls around. Liza likes to throw the ball in the air as hard as she can and fall down pretending that her monstrous throw knocked her down. The mom asked "how old is she, Three? I said  no, four, she's small. The mom asks Liza  "What's your name?" No answer.

Liza is spouting off some stuff about Thomas The Train. The mom asks again. No answer.  I can see the wheels in the playground mom's brain: small, won't say her name.....

Then Liza turns around  spells her name to the mom: It's L.I Z.A.  I said, well she spelled it for you at least. She said spelling is good.  Kids.