Monday, December 7, 2015

Rode Tails - Forward

It always helps to give your readers a glimpse of what your book is about. I never read forwards. I skip them so I can get right into the book. I've probably missed a lot in the exchange. This forward doesn't reveal much about the book, but it does tell of my attitude while writing.

Forward

Herein lies my unauthorized autobiography
I do ask that the reader remember that this is a work of fiction. The episodes and events herein are based upon my years on the road as a musician and entertainer. As my Cajun friends would say: “Dis may not be da way it happened for real, but ‘tis the way I choose to remember it.”
My friend, Bertie Higgins, was attempting to write a novel several years back. He called upon me for suggestions and help editing his book. During one of our conversations he related what his good friend Jimmy Buffett said to him, “Writing my first novel was the loneliest experience of my life.” I can confirm Jimmy’s words. I’ve had a lot of lonely periods in my life, but writing this book has truly been the loneliest experience of my life. But, it has also been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. As for Bertie, he gave up on the novel and became a screenwriter.
The feeling of accomplishment when I finally completed this collection of short stories was sublime. I didn’t anticipate exposing myself to the degree that I did, but the result was cathartic.
While the events are true, I did change many of the names of people who would be embarrassed by having their secrets exposed.
Thank you for reading my book and allowing me into your head.

I gareawntee you will never look at musicians the same way again. 

Supergirl - TV Series

Supergirl is the best new series on TV in decades. Melissa Benoist plays Kara (Zor-El) Danvers, Supergirl. She was sent to Earth at age 13 to protect her cousin on Earth. The explosion of her home planet, Krypton, sends her into a time-warp hole. By the time she reaches Earth her cousin has already established himself as Superman.
Left without a mission, Kara hides her identity for years until one fateful day when an airliner containing her sister is disabled by a wicked storm and destined to crash. Kara flies up to the airliner and uses her super strength to lower the craft gently to land. The secret is out. She has exposed her identity.
Kara finally feels free to be herself and follow her new destiny, though her sister disagrees. Kara works for National City media mogul Cat Grant played by Calista Flockhart. Ms. Grant is eternally envious of the Daily Planet's superhero Superman.
Jimmy Olsen left the Daily Planet for a job with CatCo only now he prefers to be called James and somehow his is now a black man.
The first few episodes detail the struggles of Supergirl learning her role and taking control of her image.
I love this series because Benoist succinctly demonstrates that women have the power to break free of societal barriers and define themselves as they see fit.
Five stars to Supergirl.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Rocky Rhodes

First words in the continuation of my saga. This edition follows me through the years 1969 and 1970, two of the most eventful years of my life.

The Rocky Rhodes

Jack Ghostly was the undisputed pun master of our band.  The subtitles of Road Tales are a tribute to Jack. This subtitle plays on the name of the piano I used back then: the Fender Rhodes Stage 73.
This volume of Road Tales continues the story of music and debauchery that are my life. Picking up from where Rode Tails ended in late 1968, Rocky Rhodes describes the many highs and a few lows that occurred during the years of 1968 through 1970, an era that lasted an eon and forged me through an intense ordeal by fire, a flaming gauntlet that I easily could have killed me. Yet, through each death came a new life, new promise, and new hope.
With the shit that rained down on me during these years, with all the strife and conflict going on in the world, I could have easily become a serial killer… or a politician. (You tell me the difference between those two.)
Or, I could have easily committed suicide, which was and remains the leading cause of death for Indian teens, or, been murdered by wasicu, the next leading cause for premature exit to the other side for our people.
At my lowest point a series of folks came into my life to provide comfort and guidance. The greatest new influence was the Boudreaux family introduced to me through their eldest son Ben. 
I’m never sure when new folks are sent into my path whether I’m supposed to help them or the other way around. I’m starting to realize that both things happen. You cannot affect someone without being affected by them.

These stories are about the people who changed me and my life –and me theirs – in fulfillment of the Grand Design. 

Rode Tails Dedication

Sorry for the time lapse. Mayo gave me a new liver and I've been recuperating. Not back to 100% yet, but rebounding in record time.

I've been busy lately editing and publishing my Road Tales series of semi-autobiographical books. They are available on Amazon.

The three books, subtitled Rode Tails, Rocky Rhodes, and Rode Hard, chronicle my incubation and rise in the entertainment industry. They are raw, unabashed looks into the life of a musician on the road. Musicians that read this series see themselves in every book.

See, it isn't just my story, it is the common story of entertainers that make their live on the road.

Rode Tails starts with my birth in 1953 in a chapter titled Emergence. My writing probably breaks most or all of the rules of writing. I insist that I must tell the story on my terms to make it real.

Here is the dedication from Rode Tails:

Dedication

To Oscar Deutsch, The Queen of the North End, for being a great friend and shining example of what it means to be an entertainer,

To Ken Kesey, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and Mike McClure for their inspiration, mentorship, encouragement, and support,
To Dr. Don Jordan for his friendship, inspiration, guidance, and general all-around craziness, 

To my sons Rob, Jeremy, James, and Erik, daughter Jessica, and grandsons Sage, Auggie, and Apollo who provide the greatest joy in my life. (Don’t let the grandkids read this book until they’re old enough),

To Spring Blackwater, the medicine woman with a timeless soul, who has given me two wonderful, strong grandsons and made my eldest son as happy as a man can be,

To the denizens of North End, my Ojibwa brothers and sisters,

To my Lakota Sioux brothers and sisters on Pine Ridge Res,

To my Ojibwa brothers and sisters on Red Cliff Res,


To Wanda Boudreaux for her eternal inspiration, unconditional love, a lifetime of understanding, counseling, undying friendship, being the best female blues singer I’ve ever worked with, and a million other reasons too numerous to list.  

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Treasure From George Zizzos

 I recently received a wonderful parting gift from George Zizzos. The DVD of the Jimmy Jam show in May 2014. The show brought together working musicians with luminaries from the past. I even appeared as if I were playing in a few clips.

The Jam was a benefit for Jimmy Jarvenon for his upcoming liver transplant. The afternoon was eerily prophetic of my current situation. I love irony, but this was just too ironic.

I played my ass off in 2014 reaching the 7,000 gig milestone. Little did I suspect that they would be among my last. My strength and stamina started to wane toward the end of the year. Something was clearly not right. I haven't been sick a day in my life, other than self-inflicted.

The players were superb that day. So much talent for one tiny stage. It was staggering and humbling to be invited onstage.

My first failure came for the St. Patrick's Day weekend, the first  St. Paddy's I'd ever missed. I rehearsed with my great friend Jeff Pierson earlier in the week. I couldn't squeeze the accordion and was barely able to press Hammond keys. Plus, I couldn't remember a chord pattern to save my arse. Forget about lyrics.

The biggest sign was that I couldn't play House of the Rising Sun, a song that I've performed since 1965. It is one of my signature songs featuring solos that Allen Price applauded.

The problem was buildup of Ammonia in my brain. I couldn't think, I couldn't play and my body refused to respond to commands. At that point I was merely days away from death.

The Jimmy Jam lifted my spirits in 2014 like no other event. I didn't know most of the musicians at the venue save for George and his brother and Mick Jackson, Still there was a brotherhood of aging rockers doing what they love best.

Other high points in the year were playing Homegrown with the Blackwater Tribe featuring my sons and private gigs with my souls mate Wanda Boudreaux, and of course the Florida gigs with the great Spade McQuade and Woody & The Peckers.

Unfortunately, there is no blues scene in Duluth. There are a few competent players but no pros. Alarming is the number of NASCAR and Lynard Skynard fans.

Pardon the randomness of thought in this blog. Neurons are still misfiring like the fireworks barge that blew up in Lake Superior back in the 80's.

Currently, I'm doing much better but far from healed. I have lost 60 lbs in 3 months. If not for my too-wonderful for words daughter Jessica I probably would have expired months ago.

One of the revelations that occur when you're down like this is that you find out who your true friends are. For me it is a long list and I'll probably leave some out unintentionally. My angels are ER Nurse Donna Nasoff - a tireless care provider, Jeff Pierson who is as good a friend as anyone would dare ask for, Rick Arcusa and EMT and one of life's true heroes. Spade McQuade and Colleen McGready, Matt & Sarah Turnbull who have disproved the notion that Brits can't cook. Chuck & Tilly of Woody & The Peckers, Geno Phares drummer for WATP, Don Jordan - the Real Indiana Jones,  Dan Loerke music student and vintage guitar collector, Adam Shirah guitarist for The All Stars, Karen LaBarbera who has edited each of my novels, and tons more that aren't appearing my depleted short term memory. I love them all deeply and hold them dearly.

Then there is the uninimitable Wanda Boudreaux - my female double. She has an unending store of energy and positivity that has blown me away for the past 50 years. Add to that wit and an amazing voice that goes from angelic to dirty blues in a measure. She is the most amazing person I've met in this life.

As for the video, Mick narrates in his trademark drier than vermouth voice that masks his true-blue loving nature.

I urge everyone to grab a copy of Jimmy Jam. It offers a true taste of the Duluth music scene gone by.

I'm going to be fine, eventually. --armond joy blackwater

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Little League - Giant Outrage

Totally inappropriate punishment. Those most effected by the ruling are the kids whose only crime was to play ball better than any other team out there. 

Top of the guilty list are the coaches that at least didn't do their job to vet the addresses of the kids and at worst falsified and cheated the rest of the world. Close behind in the line are the officials of the little league associated that didn't properly crosscheck the team lineup and also failed to define a process that would prevent such an occurrence. 
Colour me outraged. Apologies to the kids that are hurting today. Shame to the adults that have disappointed so many.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Chef - No Clutch

The film starts out in first gear as it sledges through the setup where a chubby chef flames out at a restaurant that is stuck with a decade-old menu. Dustin Hoffman plays the owner determined to steadfastly adhere to a greatest hits menu of the 90's. Usually, Hoffman's mere presence lifts every scene and film that he is in. Not this time. That setup took over an hour.

Next,, the Chef  (John Favreau) melts down in public by calling out food critic Oliver Platt about a negative tweet. A tweet war that contains a few funny but not memorable lines transpire that are insufficient to provide lubrication. The clutch slips and we remain in first gear.

A contrived subplot of Chef and his estranged son predictably brings an epiphany that he has sacrificed his personal life for his career.

Cut to Miami where his too-good ex-wife hooks him up with a nasty food truck that Chef and son must refurbish. The result is the greatest roach coach food ever produced, the kid learns to cook, and father and son bond over the kids twitter knowledge.

Another attempt at shifting out of first fails despite the cameo provided by Robert Downey, Jr. I heard a few gear teeth shearing of about this time. Off we race on a cross-I 10 with stops in New Orleans, Nobody Cares, TX.. there could have been more cities but the drone of the road had me nodded off in the back seat.

Finally, our characters (who seem as bored by the film as I was by that time) putter into Los Angeles slowing to a merciful halt in front of ex-wife's house; Whereupon, the Chef butchers his entire family and starts a Carne di Homo Sapien restaurant. At least, that's what would have been more interesting.

Stars galore pass through this slow motion ride toward the bin. The sum total of all players yanking together couldn't pull this food truck out of the mire.

And here I am writing a negative blog about movie that centers around a negative blog. Deja Fekkin Vu.