The ambiance was warm and welcoming, and the people cheery, in the darkish-red ‘Make-Out Room’ of SF’s Mission District – where the show took place.  As a side note, I believe it’s the first bar I ever had a drink in when I was formerly living out there (lived out in SF for a year – all of ‘06).  By the time I came in, the music was already in full effect, brasses, basses, vocals and more swirling together in a fine symphony of Jazz.  And on the right periphery of the band, just behind the keyboard, stood Graham, watching and listening intently and generally keeping track of the band which he was conducting.  He played some keys, too.

As I stood and listened, I figured out that he wrote all of the music for this thing.  I mean I had been aware that this whole thing was sort of his doing, which is why I came, but prior to the show, I didn’t know the extent of his involvement.  I mean he conceptualized the whole thing…music for some 22 instruments plus 5 or so vocalists.  Truly impressive to see and hear it all come together to say the least (check out the link to see the Admiral at work).

The crowd seemed pleased and I got the impression I was witnessing a memorable moment in SF music history.  People out there really seem to respect Graham’s talents – I heard someone say that he is considered a “barnacle” in the SF Music Scene – meaning lots of people/musicians tend to come and go in that town, but Graham has been a consistent force for some years.

Anyway – I just wanted to extend my congratulations to cousin Graham.  It was good stuff.

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*Sorry I didn’t take the time to properly introduce cousin Graham.  His full name is Graham Connah (aka Admiral Ted Brinkley), and he’s a fairly well-known (AND IMMENSELY TALENTED) Jazz artist out in the Bay area.  Originally from Baltimore, he’s been living out in SF near 20 years, in California at large for even longer; went to music school of sorts at UC Santa Cruz back in the 80s before making his way up to sunny San Francisco.

In our family, which is comprised to an overwhelming degree by bohemian artist/musician-types, Graham is sort of considered to be the most out there of them all.  He is kind of perceived as the ultimate fringe-dweller.  But having gotten to know him a little better (mostly as a result of having lived out in SF for a while), I now see him less as some out there fringe-dweller and more as a hard-working, endearingly eccentric, immeasurably gifted, and genuinely kind-hearted, real person who is just trying to stay stimulated and inspired (amazing how actually getting to know someone can change the way one thinks of a person, eh?).  And he seems to be doing a pretty good job of it, if his musical accomplishments say anything.  The stuff he is up to is truly impressive.

As my step-mom was cruising home from work a couple days ago, she spotted a snapping turtle in the middle of the road and stopped her car to get a closer look.  As she and my dad have a pretty decent flowing creek running through their backyard, she figured the snapper might could use some cooling off (it was about 95 in Atlanta that day), so she hoisted the resistant creature into her trunk and hauled it just down the road to home.  Upon releasing it at the creek, she watched it swim off and head toward a submarine nook under their little wooden bridge, where it cooled off for a while…

While I got a kick out of her email describing this encounter, I was more impressed by her post-script which described community turtle dinners they held annually when she was growing up out in the North Georgia countryside:

“All of Crabapple would take off for the creeks in the mountains, and the men went snapping turtle hunting.  Afterwards, we came back to Crabapple for a community turtle dinner, after the women cleaned and deep fat fried the things.”

I thought this was a really neat little anecdote about times past.  I mean sure, we have some community-type events in the present age, but nothing so raw and hands on (at least not in my experience).  Only 50 years ago, people in this area were still going out into the woods to catch some snappers so that they could bring ‘em back to town to eat ‘em as a community…are you kidding me?!  I have also read that people in the North Atlanta area (Sandy Springs) were still having community ‘possum hunts well into the 20th century (these apparently involved going out into the woods at night with lanterns and dogs to scare up and shoot some ‘possums…what excitement!).  Man I sort feel like I missed out.

These days, it’s major excitement to merely spot a wild creature in these parts, which by now have more of the qualities of a modern suburban community (Starbucks, Walmart, etc.) and less of the things native and natural which once flourished (woods, wildlife, etc.).  But it’s nice when we do have that rare experience and are reminded of times past.  Thanks to my stepmom for sharing.

My introduction to Miyamoto began with me recently pulling a dusty old NES out of my old bedroom closet at Mom’s house.  For anyone who is hard of remembering archaic acronyms, NES stands for Nintendo Entertainment System.  Yep, we are talking the original 8-bit Nintendo gaming console, born 1985.  Because all Nintendos are bound to fail at some point, I wondered if it would even power up.  Much to my surprise, the old dinosaur still works.  And even more shocking is that the original Super Mario Bros. game that came with it still works, too!  I mean it took a lot of blowing* to make that happen, but in no time little mario was dancing across the screen to my spirit’s delight.

One thing led to another, and next thing I know my friend Matt is involved, likewise busting out his girlfriend’s old Super Nintendo and a particular game for it which includes all the original NES Mario games (1, 2, & 3) plus one I had never seen or played: Super Mario Bros.: The Lost Levels.  It was during our playing of The Lost Levels when that lightbulb I mentioned earlier went off and I asked myself a couple obvious and long-overdue questions…

Who dreamed all this up?  And why hadn’t I ever thought about that before?  Feelings of both incompleteness and irreverence came over me (it was like loving Star Wars and not knowing who George Lucas is!), and soon enough I was on Wikipedia reading about my newfound hero: Shigeru Miyamoto.

A quick bio: Born in a rural area outside Kyoto in 1952 (he’s a Japanese baby boomer), Miyamoto spent his youth exploring the woods, waterways, rice fields, and caves near his native home.  He is said to have been particularly influenced by caves, that influence manifesting itself in the subterranean underworlds seen in Mario.  After graduating college (he was a 5th year Senior by the way), he went to work at age 24 as a staff artist/toy designer for budding Japanese toy company Nintendo, which under Miyamoto’s leadership would become the powerhouse videogame manufacturer it is today.  After initially dreaming up Donkey Kong in the early 80s, he came up with the Mario series, The Legend of Zelda, Excitebike (one of my faves), and many more – and for his contributions he has been dubbed “the father of modern videogames.”  Most recently, he produced Punchout for the Wii, the interactive gaming console which he also helped design.  Finally, he is said to be a music lover, choosing to play guitar and banjo any day of the week over playing videogames, which I guess he’s busy enough designing.

Based on his story, I find it striking just how much in common any of us might have with this larger than life figure.  He seems like such a real person, much unlike the celebrities we read about every day, and yet he has probably infiltrated the popular cultural environment and captivated our imaginations more than any celebrity ever could.  I mean his reach is about as global as the world wide web and yet many of us do not even know his name.

So here’s to Shigeru Miyamoto.  Many thanks, Miyamoto, for creating something so fun, and more importantly, something so fun that WE CAN ALL SHARE, whether we’re in rural Kansai or Dover, Delaware (or whether we’re 5 years old or 26).  You’re the man!

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*if you don’t understand the blowing reference, then you probably have never played Nintendo… and I guess you might not care for this article.  But chances are you know someone, be it your kids, grandkids, etc., who has been touched by Miyamoto’s work

But it looks even older, and sure enough it turns out that the actual building/”shopping cloister” The Punchline is a part of was constructed circa 1972.  I always inherently knew this just by the rad 1970s signage out front which screams 1972 with its flagrant use of orange, teal, and purple!  Brilliant (insert British accent)!!!

John Oliver certainly capitalized on how ridiculous this place is, choosing, however, to focus primarily on it’s acute resemblance to a shed.  Since he left the rad Balconies sign out of his act, I figured I’d give it some love.

It brings me great joy that such a sign still stands tall and proud despite being completely surrounded by so much artificial, “modern” crap.  Props to the people that run this place for preserving it.  Or perhaps they have simply forgotten about it as a result of it being there so long.  Either way, cheers (insert British accent again) to The Balconies.

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*The Punchline is also well-worn because of the many talents that have performed there over the years, including Eddie Murphy, Jerry Seinfeld, Dave Chappelle, and (here’s the kicker) MY GRANDMA, who performed stand-up there at age 85.  Go Granny!

Today I revisited an old favorite flick of mine: Crossroads (Ralph Macchio, 1986) – NOT to be confused with the better known Crossroads starring Britney Spears.  Many years have passed since I watched this movie last, and in that time I have forgotten the PROFOUND impact that it initially had on me.

When I first watched this film as a middle school student, I was completely blown away.  I had recently begun listening to the blues on 89.3 fm – a public radio station of sorts in Atlanta at the time – and was thirsty for more.  I somehow caught wind of Crossroads, a movie about, well, a young dude’s thirst for the blues, and it delivered!

A) The music is kick-ass, B) the film captures Mississippi beautifully (we’re talking scenery AND culture), C) it’s a great lesson in music history and blues folklore, and D) you can’t beat the story; it’s got everything from hoboing to young love to narrowly escaping some pretty sticky situations.  I’d say Crossroads is akin to Oh Brother, Where Art Though? (2000) in terms of features A-D.

Above all, this film is a great tribute to Mississippi blues music and to it’s father, the legendary Robert Johnson.  As the blues idiom seems to be dwindling in popularity these days, these kinds of flicks are of critical importance.  Let us not forget where we are coming from…

ps. I think the fact that I watched it today on a crappy old VHS brings added depth to my last statement haha (not to mention added screen blur)

I often find it difficult to keep up with this fast-moving world.  I am especially overwhelmed by the never-ceasing technological advancement that seems to occur daily.  How can anyone keep up with all this stuff?!  I guess I sometimes feel like a turtle who has been having a little difficulty getting his feet moving…

But science and history teach us that one must adapt in order to survive.  With that in mind, I have somehow managed to come out of my shell in recent months in attempt to “catch-up” with the times.  Hell, I’d even say that small wings have sprouted from my hard shell and I am kicking up dust clouds behind me.

The problem is that those dust clouds tend to sometimes obscure what I believe to be critical elements to a progressive way of being: clear memories of and lessons learned from past times. Knowledge of the past can be such a powerful tool when it comes to making decisions, knowing yourself more fully, and relating to others.

So in moving forward with this blog, which in my mind epitomizes the turtle taking flight, I will feature memories, anecdotes, and lessons from the past.  Perhaps they will help propel us on our flight!