A full day and night party . . .
featuring Enid movies, music, paintings, photographs, artifacts, internet performances, books with stories, and people with stories.
It’ll actually be sorta fun.

We’ll have oliver favorite food n drinks.

This is just an invitation, not an obligation.
But it’ll certainly be a memorable Memorial.

Date:  on The Enid Equinox, Friday, Sept. 23^rd, 2011

Time:  Toodle’nine. (2 till 9)
And if it’s still cookin we’ll go back to the townhouse.
Or you’re always welcome to come out for one-on-one visits at a later time.

Location:  in the gorgeous Grand Gathering Grounds in the front of Burloak — two-story high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, huge fireplace, piano, video screens, great sound system, giant patio, exotic fish and other weird stuff …

Burloak Long Term Care — 5959 New St., Burlington

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Mom’s Memorial — Friday, Sept 23^rd, 2011

It went great.  It was like an extensive museum exhibit, except the stuff wasn’t under glass and you could pick it up and look at it.  And it was like a library the way people had their heads buried in historical books and photo collections — and were finding things that I didn’t even know about!  And it was like a great party with a lot of laughter, electric energy, and new friendships being made.

There were no formal speeches — it just never felt right.  Everyone was so into the show and the moment — That was the Memorial.  They didn’t need anyone telling them what to feel — they were already memorializing in every direction on their own.

It was Enid through a kaleidoscope anywhere you looked — about 20 of her paintings, paintings of her, framed photos covering nearly 90 years, her report card from nursing school, her paint tubes and brushes, her brass rubbings, her father’s diaries from the 1910s, her childhood photo albums from the ’20s, her scrapbooks from the ’30s, her nursing memorabilia from the ’40s, her fashion photos from the ’50s, her Rocky Mountain paintings from the ’60s, her real estate clippings from the ’70s, her miniature paintings from the ’80s, her video adventures from the ’90s, her published stories from the 2000s, her notebooks from writing classes, her trip diaries, her writings to take with you in photocopy, a huge spread of all her favorite chocolates and cakes, Edward Sellers playing acoustic guitar in the background, home movies of her hiking under the Redwoods in the Cascades … her whole life on display in a giant cathedral-like space filled with all these different people who knew her, over all these different decades, in all these different ways, sharing memories with each other.
For 7 hours.

It was so nice.
And she was there smiling, laughing, and telling stories all night long.

Rock on, Mom!

Enid E. Hassett — 1920–2011  R.I.P.

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.
Obits ran in the Oakville Beaver for the Sept 16/17/18 weekend edition, in the Winnipeg Free Press on Saturday, Sept 17th, and the Brandon Sun, Saturday, Sept. 24th.

Enid Ester Hassett, formerly Olver, and originally Bennett.
Born in Brandon, Manitoba, on Earth Day, before there was one — April 22^nd, 1920.  She skipped away while dreaming on September 13th at the age of 91.

Enid was an environmentalist before there was a movement.  She was a feminist before there was a word for it.  She was a painter, a writer, a nurse, and someone who found people homes to raise their children.

She always championed what was right, and was never addled by artificial restraints. Her philosophy came down to — “Do whatever you think is right, but DO it.”  And — “Don‘t stop at the first roadblock — there’s a way around everything.”

She was a nurse anesthetist at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, and Supervisor of the first Intensive Care Unit at a hospital in Manitoba.  She was the top woman real estate agent in Winnipeg in the 1970s, and she made sure she saw the world, traveling far and wide long before it was common.  She married a happy, happening Air Force pilot, Frank Olver, who was tragically killed in 1951.  They had one daughter, Susan.

In 1956 she married a cute, easy-going banker, Vern Hassett, and had one son, Brian, in 1961.

An Epic Enid Memorial will be held on the Equinox, Friday, September 23rd, from 2PM till 9PM, at Burloak Long Term Care, 5959 New St. (at Burloak Dr.) in Burlington.

Enid is survived by her son Brian Hassett;  her sister Marjorie MacAuley in Brandon;  3 grandchildren, Christopher and Michael LeSavauge, and Elizabeth Sutherland;  and 3 great-grandchildren, Grace and Christopher LeSauvage, and Magdalene Tsushima.

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.

Here’s another tribute to her —  A Song of Enid I Sing.

Or here’s some of the other many tributes that came in to this Force of Nature.

Or here’s one of our many adventures together — The Maltese Fall.

And here’s — the tribute to her husband and my Dad — Vern Victor Hassett.

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Brian Hassett          karmacoupon@gmail.com          BrianHassett.com

Her father was an engineer on the CPR,
so the whole family got to travel all over North America,
when virtually no one in their town ever went more than a few miles from home.

They had 5 sons, followed by 4 daughters, Enid being the first.

They owned the first (and for a long time only) car and telephone
on Third Street in Brandon.

She grew up in a world with oil lamps for light,
and horse & buggies that delivered the milk;
Without cameraphones,
she painted pictures to share what she saw,
then lived to attach them to emails.

She got her drivers license by her dad taking her to the Town Hall:
“Well, kin she driave, George?”
“Yep. Taught ‘er ma’self.”
“Alrighty then.”

She painted mountainscapes in the Rockies,
seascapes around Superior,
and short stories using words.

She married a funny, happening Air Force pilot;
they had a daughter and a happy home,
until she was tragically widowed one December.

Then she became an Anesthesiologist at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester,
and did nursing stints in Austin and Houston,
before marrying a cute, easy-going banker from the home-country,
moving to Calgary, and bearing a son.

She was the Supervisor of the first Intensive Care Unit in Manitoba,
and the Director of Nursing at Winnipeg Municipal.

Then she became the top woman real estate agent in Winnipeg.

Then she bought the nicest cottage in Gimli, Manitoba,
… and made it nicer.  Eleven rooms!

Then opened her own manicure & spa business.

Then in her 70s, she up n moved from White Rock, B.C. to Oakville,
on a premonition, a series of dreams, and following some signs.

She always had a sixth sense, and proved time and again that it’s real.

She traveled the world, all ten provinces, and most of the states.

She took painting and elocution lessons,
learned Reiki therapy,
studied and collected antiques,
checked out different religions,
raised a champion Staffordshire Bull Terrier,
took a spectrum of New Age classes,
drove a car like she was a getaway man leavin a crime,
won damn near every bridge night she ever went to,
slept and stayed awake whenever she felt like it,
never had more than one drink on any day in her life,
but loved to party till dawn,
and went to writing conferences all over North America,
and was published in both countries.

She hit Limelight, Area, and all the nightclubs of New York;
she caught The Grateful Dead at the very Giants Stadium,
and the greatest jazz in the very tiny clubs of Greenwich Village;
and was known in some circles as the “rock n roll mum.”

And besides all that, she was a really focused mother —
Always inclusive and playful and encouraging and adventurous,
And she knew New York City was the place for her son.

Mother & son at a Grateful Dead concert, 1995

.

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Some of the tributes to The Mighty & Wonderful Enid.

Her colorful obit and final send-off party.

A similar tribute to my Dad — Vern Victor Hassett — Be Still Here.

Or here’s one of the many adventures Mom and I had — The Maltese Fall.

Some other poems in the Spirit . . .

The Boys Who Grew From Northern Lands

Love Is

Be The Invincible Spirit You Are

Visiting Vincent van Gogh

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by Brian Hassett       karmacoupon@gmail.com       BrianHassett.com

.

Obama’s election night in New York City may have been my favorite single night / moment in 25+ years of living in Manhattan.
(You can read about it here: https://brianhassett.com//2008/11/election-night-2008/ )

That feeling was extended to a week-long celebration in my second favorite city, Washington, D.C. — a home-game in the History League — And lo, the magic gushed up like fountains showering the city in love and soaking us in positive human accomplishment.

And of course I was in the middle of it, sending out daily dispatches from the front, and one of them struck the great writer and editor Holly George-Warren’s ears as she was working with Woodstock producer Michael Lang on his book.

The guy who envisioned and produced “Woodstock” — the concert that changed everything — used my words on the climactic page of his book about the festival.

Forty years later, the Wall Street Journal would refer to Obama’s inauguration as “Washington’s Woodstock.”  Experiencing the joy in coming together with a million celebrants on the Mall in Washington, a blogger named Brian Hassett put it this way:  “As it was happening, every single one of the people I met was beaming with joy.  In terms of a crowd euphoric, the only thing I ever heard of that was like this was Woodstock in ’69.  That changed our country a lot, but this time Woodstock was in the seat of power.  Jimi’s ‘Star-Spangled Banner’ was the prelude, and a scant forty years later, here’s that scorching soul of new thinking actually overtaking the reins of government.”

from “The Road To Woodstock: From The Man Behind The Festival” by Michael Lang with Holly George-Warren.

.

Here are the original dispatches that the quote was taken from … https://brianhassett.com//2009/01/the-dc-dispatches/

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You can read 50 other Political Adventure Tales like this in my 2020 book Blissfully Ravaged in Democracy — Adventures in Politics — 1980–2020.

For an account of the most jubilant night in the history of New York — check the Election Night 2008 Adventure. 

For a night in New York that started out just as joyous — check out the Election Night 2004 Adventure.

Or speaking of Woodstock, here’s going to Yasgur’s farm with The Merry Pranksters.

For the kind of creations that got us across the historic finish line — check out my poem and video for Where Wayward Jekylls Hyde.

For an on-the-campaign-trail adventure — check out the physical altercation I was in the middle of with Al Franken at a Howard Dean rally.

For my tribute to another great political reporter — check out my Tim Russert tribute.

For a full listing of great reporters and news sources — check out my Political Sources Primer.

For how well these sources work — check out my 2012 election predictions.

… or here’s the 2008 projections — in both, I’m over 98% correct.  😉

=====================================

Brian Hassett  —  karmacoupon@gmail.com   —  BrianHassett.com

Here’s the (Route) 66 greatest musical performances ever captured on film — after watching thousands of clips and reviewing hundreds of them for RockPeaks, this is the best of the best . . .

And it tells a story, one complete show of shows, in a sequence of greatness . . .

Blessing the blast is Johnny Clegg bringing Nelson Mandela into the house during the celebratory Asimbonanga

The Half-Centennial Celebrations

Saturday June 18^th on the Caddy patty-o    (also Sir Paul McCartney’s birthday!  😉

6:00 dinner — the food’s tasty and diverse with a great new chef doin’ mmm duck quesadilla … southern pulled-pork … New York Strip … ginger salmon . . . here’s the menu — http://www.cadillaclounge.com/the_menu.html

All-night  come-as-you-may  hang from then on …

on the upper patio deck in the back of the Cadillac Lounge’s back outdoor patio, hidden away, where you wander through a labyrinth of rooms and halls, passing images of Elvis and Dean and Dylan and Bruce as you venture on the journey through the past, beyond the outdoor pool tables, to the distant horizon of trees …

It’s a homey space in a transportive place … a wooden cottage deck that attracts the non-playa set.  It’s the heart of the city — but it could be Gimli.

And then when it gets mysterious and dark, there’s two different simultaneous killer bands — one playing outside on the patio, and one playing inside the club.

Outdoor’s some serious Booker T funk n jazz . . .  indoor’s some joyous Beatles n Bruce rock n roll.

It’s the upper deck of the best outdoor patio bar in Toronto  . . . from dinnertime to 2AM.

It’s Summertime . . . and the livin is easy . . .

on the weekend with the longest days of the year!   😉

in a sacred space for The Grand Humanity Jam to play.

Jest keepin’ ya toasted!

B Major and B Well

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Here’s the time The Grateful Dead Played My 30th Birthday.

Or here’s the massive Reunion of like-minded souls.

Or you can’t go wrong with this poem — Love Is.

Here’s an article I wrote on the film Festival Express, published in Relix Magazine, April 2004.

Drivin’ That Train . . .        

The Festival Express Rolls Again After 30 Years

by Brian Hassett

“That was the best time I’ve had in rock and roll,” said Jerry Garcia. “There were no straight people.”

In the summer of 1970, the Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, The Band and scores of other musicians took a chartered train trip across Canada. And it’s on film. Really, really good film. Coming to theaters this summer. DVD to follow. But go out of your way to catch it on the big screen for the full concert experience. At the Toronto Film Festival last fall, tears were rolling down cheeks during Janis’s soul bearing, and spontaneous applause erupted mid-song, as if it were a jazz club.

Plus, this is the best Jerry Garcia on film. I’ll let that sink in for a minute.

And it’s the wildest Band on film; looser, younger and even more alive than The Last Waltz, playing in their home country with the Hawks soaring thru ‘em.

The Village Voice said of The Janis Voice: this is “by far the most vivid evidence of her presence ever committed to film.” You will ‘get’ Janis-goose bumps, guaranteed.

And the swirling cinematic trip that Beatles Anthology director Bob Smeaton wove together from the 46 hours of uncovered footage is “the third jewel in the crown,” as Dead and culture historian Dennis McNally puts it, grouping it with Woodstock and Gimme Shelter.

“Woodstock was a treat for the audience, but the train was a treat for the performers,” somebody said on the train, no one remembers who.

But someone did remember a camera and captured the best backstage party these sculptors of modern music claim they ever attended, at a peak in their collective creative lives. “Never had such a good time in my life before,” as Robert Hunter put in “Might As Well,” his ode to the train trip. The Band had just crawled out the window of Dylan’s basement and are sprinting through their solo prime. The Dead are in their original-six lineup, Pigpen trim and on harp. They’d just presciently written “Casey Jones,” and preciously recorded Workingman’s Dead-which hit stores the day before the Toronto show and included a brand new song about playing outdoor festivals called “New Speedway Boogie,” which they deliver a fresh-out-of-the-studio version of. Garcia wrote “Ripple” in Saskatoon, and Janis worked up her biggest hit, “Me & Bobby McGee,” just three months before final flameout. It’s like finding a film of Michelangelo sculpting David.

In a garage. In Canada. “The original filmmaker had it just sitting in an old box,” says film consultant James Cullingham, who’s writing a book about it. “He called me over, and I look in the box and there’s cans of film labeled ‘Dead,’ ‘Joplin,’ ‘Band.'” (Oh look, mom, it’s our summer vacation movies from that train trip with Auntie Janis and Uncle Jerry!) “Then we found the negatives and 8-track audio masters had been mysteriously stored in the National Archives of Canada.”

“It’s in pristine shape,” testifies film soundmaster Eddie Kramer. Both the audio and video seem like they were recorded last summer, not last century.

The pioneering promoter and conductor, Ken Walker, who brought John Lennon to town the previous summer for his historic non-Beatles Live Peace In Toronto show, said, “If we were bringing all the acts together for one festival, why not do more than one? So I got the idea of the private train and started negotiating with CN Railways,” many comical details of which are in the film.

“We were supposed to open in Montreal but it was cancelled last minute by the mayor. And we tried to do Vancouver, but couldn’t get the stadium. So we did the two shows in Toronto, June 27th and 28th, with different bands each day. Then one in Winnipeg, July 1st, and two in Calgary, July 4^th and 5^th, after which Janis wanted to hijack the train to keep it going!”

And just like Woodstock, the whole thing came together because of Bob freakin’ Dylan! “I’d just gotten Lennon, and I wanted Dylan,” Walker said. “So I called Albert Grossman, who was also managing Janis Joplin. She’d been looking for a new band and figured Dylan had done alright with his Band from Toronto, and so her new group, Full Tilt Boogie, was from there, too. So Janis wanted to do it right away. And I was talking to Grossman, so we got The Band. Once we had them, and word of The Orient Express got out, we got the San Francisco acts.”

The Dead brought along Jerry’s ‘other’ band, The New Riders of the Purple Sage-this being the “Evening with The Grateful Dead” era that included a Riders set with Garcia on pedal steel, and a Dead acoustic set. The other lucky gamblers onboard were the Flying Burrito Brothers the month after Gram Parsons left, Delaney & Bonnie, Buddy Guy, Mountain, Ian & Sylvia Tyson’s Great Speckled Bird, Mashmakan, Seatrain, Eric Andersen, the Good Brothers, Tom Rush, plus some local acts in each city, and that ubiquitous festival oddity, Sha Na Na. Traffic and Ten Years After also played the opening Toronto shows and are on film, but not in the movie.

And with all these assembled masters in their prime, “Jerry was the natural born ringmaster of that 3-ringed dream train,” as pedal steel pioneer Buddy Cage put it. Not only does he seem to be in on every jam, but also as the crowd gets out of hand at the opening show, it’s Garcia who actually rises to the microphone for a solo stage-front plea for “coolness,” and he initiates the violence-diffusing free concert in the adjacent park.

“Garcia was the obvious leader in a scene that claimed no leaders,” says tour scholar Cullingham. “Jerry, Janis, Walker and [Rick] Danko were the forces of nature behind the whole thing.”

And it wasn’t just the music Casey Jones was driving. “Jerry wanted to go up to the engine,” Walker said. “He was really interested in the geography and wanted to be up front for the moment the prairie flatlands suddenly open up in front of you. So we go up there and Jerry climbs up in the seat and sticks his head out the window until the engineer warned him about the bugs! He showed Jerry where the whistle was, and just as we were crossing into Manitoba he was blowin’ the whistle and giggling away!”

Garcia: “It was the musicians’ train. There wasn’t any showbiz bullshit. It was like a musicians’ convention with no public allowed.” John Till, Full Tilt Boogie: “It wasn’t only a concert on stage, it was a concert for the entire trip.”   Mickey Hart: “It was like a dream music camp with all your friends.”  Eric Andersen: “It was this little La Bohème society.”

“The promoters promised us all the pot we could smoke cuz we had to cross the border,” Mickey said. “Of course they didn’t come thru. They had cars full of Canadian liquor, but we weren’t experienced drinkers, so we all got just shit-faced drunk. I’ve never seen Jerry so green in my life! We were just heaving out the windows. I hope they don’t have that on film!”

No, but they do have Jerry telling Janis he loves her. And Delaney playing “Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad” in the bar car where he taught it to Garcia. And Danko, Janis and Garcia singing together on a couch like a drunk hippie Rat Pack. And there even seems to be a bonafide, three-act drama played out on the stages of the three-city arc: The players first meet in Toronto, face some conflict, then bond on the road to Winnipeg where they rise and play their best “top this!” sets to each other. Then there’s more trouble ahead, but they all come together in different configurations for the triumphant Calgary climax.

In the heart of the movie and country is Winnipeg, a blissfully black and white 1950’s Pleasantville. Suddenly the swirling-color psychedelic train hits town 12-cars-long! And just to stir the prank, it’s Canada Day, out of nowhere there are gate-crashing protesters, the summer fair’s in town, and . . . the Prime Minister pulls up alongside in another train! Meanwhile, over in the small-town nearly-empty-anyway football stadium, Janis and The Band are laying down Olympian, Hall of Fame performances.

Fortunately there is a small wild crop thriving in the same wacky-weed prairie soil that budded Neil Young and The Guess Who and the real-life characters Matt Groening based Homer on, and the freak underground comes through with a healthy dose of psychedelics and combustibles for the rest of the ‘trip.’

Another soon-to-be classic scene is when they run out of booze in Saskatchewan and the Marx Brothers meet Spinal Tap on the train platform in A Hard Day’s Night. “I dunno,” Eric Andersen says, almost disbelieving his own memories. “They just stopped in Saskatoon, the whole damn train just stopped, like, in front of a liquor store!”

“Everything was constantly revolving,” Mickey remembers. “There was a blues car, a country car, a rock-n-roll car. It was like musical chairs. There was never anything like that level of talent and musicianship encapsulated in such close quarters for that length of time.”

And it was also an impromptu country-rock summit, with Buddy Cage a central bridge, playing with the influential Great Speckled Bird, and inadvertently passing the audition to replace Garcia in the New Riders. “Ian Tyson’s folk-country grew into country-rock, and suddenly here was everybody,” he says of the Grateful Speckled Purple Sage Burrito Band onboard. “Jerry asked me to set up the steel on the train, and that carried over to the stage in so many ways,” like when an ecstatic Garcia and others join Speckled Bird for a sunset “C.C. Rider” that explodes with the newborn joy of the train’s country-rock-blues ménage á trois.

“It was a fusion,” Mickey says. “All these different kinds of players playing each others’ music. I thought, ‘This is the world’s music.’ Here’s Buddy Guy playing country, Mountain doing gospel, Janis singing Canadian folk…”

Trains are hypnotic, mythical, inspiring, magical, eternal. And so is this transportive movie. From the Western Expansion to any kid hopping a freight out of town with Kerouac in their rucksack, trains meant freedom and untold adventure. And that’s without instruments. By some blessing from the archeological gods, some tremendous positive energy gift is rollin’ down the track, and for just a moment we’re all gonna get to be that headlight on a northbound train.

As Janis adieu’s, “The next time you throw a train, man, invite me!”

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SIDEBAR:

Festival Express has joined a very small family of the great rock films ever made, and it comes by its magic honestly.

It has…

• the split-screen, too-much-happening-to-catch-it-all atmosphere of Woodstock, except common performers the Dead, Janis and The Band are in the movie!
• the backstage intimacy of Don’t Look Back – in fact, it may be the first real challenge to Pennebaker’s portrait – except this is in color and the songs are complete.
• the story-telling, big-picture of Gimme Shelter, except nobody gets killed and the Dead get to play.
• an Academy Award-winning cinematographer capturing The Band and music’s brightest lights like The Last Waltz, except it’s on a train trip and everybody’s six years younger.
• the child-like joy of A Hard Days Night set in the psychedelia of Magical Mystery Tour.
• the fiery landmark live performances of Monterey Pop, with as much backstage footage as onstage.
• the Python madness of the textbook ‘rockumentary’ Spinal Tap, except they went too far with this one and the characters are barely believable!
• a feisty promoter at the center of a high-speed, week-long all-star rock ‘n’ roll freight-train like The Last Days of the Fillmore, and filmed exactly one year to the day earlier.
• the natural, relaxed and intimate outdoor setting of Celebration at Big Sur, but . . . you’re gonna get to see this one soon!

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For another cool Canadian music story — check out the time I wrote a song with the founder of The Guess Who, Chad Allan.

Or here’s the de facto prequel to Festival Express — when the same promoter put on the Toronto Rock ‘n’ Roll Revival the year before and John Lennon flew over to perform.

For more Adventures in Music — you may want to check out the (Route) 66 Best live performances ever captured on film.

Or for an excerpt from my forthcoming book on Kerouac, the Dead and Ken Kesey — check out arriving at a Dead show in 1982.

Or for that time George Harrison went to a Beat play and raved about it to Paul McCartney — check out The Beatles, The Beats & The Beard.

Or for another riff that included Janis, Robert Hunter, Pigpen and a few hundred others — check out Famous People Who Don’t Have Kids.

Or for a linked list of over 500 of the greatest movies ever made — check out The Hot Movie List.

Or take the New Orleans Jazz Fest ride.

Or the night Dylan showed up at Springsteen’s show at Shea Stadium in New York.

Or check out some other little movies about Woodstock and the Merry Pranksters.

Or how The Grateful Dead came to play my 30th birthday.

Or when Jerry showed up at another birthday 20 years later.

Or when Neil Young returned to Massey Hall in Toronto.

Or Paul Simon doing Graceland in Hyde Park in London.

Or the night  Furthur came back and reprised the Dead.

Or the night I was hanging with Dr. John’s band in Toronto.

Or here’s the day I finally “got” Bob Dylan. 

Or the night we all lost John Lennon. 

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by Brian Hassett      karmacoupon@gmail.com        BrianHassett.com

 Got live if you want it . . .

The last great Rock n Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony. There’ll never be another with as many key, great musical artists in one year.

The following is a customized composite of tweets, blogs n news reports on the untelevised Induction ceremony, including sequence and set-lists, with my own additions knowing the scene from being at a couple of these . . .
Just what they say, and what they play.
In order. Because none of the post-event reports really paint the picture of what happened.

Some portion of it will be aired this Sunday from 9–11PM Eastern on the Fuse cable network.

There’s a buncha good jokes  😉
some poetic praisings
and life-lessons learned …

It was a five hour show — from 8:30 to 1:30 AM

Bruce Springsteen is in the house, mingling with Bette Midler and Catherine Zeta-Jones.
Michael Douglas says, “If you haven’t seen Dr. John in a while, he’s playing great.”
“wonder if Bruce and Tom Waits will do Jersey Girl?”
Also in the audience: Bob Geldof, Robbie Robertson, Michael J. Fox, John McEnroe …

8:35-ish — Jann Wenner — opens it — “The New York Health Dept. shot down our plans for an Elton John–Bette Midler aerial battle!”

John Legend inducts Dr. John — who he first met at a Hurricane Katrina benefit.  He eloquently documented the Doctor’s half-century as a “musical ambassador” for New Orleans, including his work with The Meters, and in collaborating with icons from John Lennon to Doc Pomus.
Legend’s conclusion? “He has never stopped flying the flag of funk.”

Dr. John, in a royal purple suit, wearing shades, a fedora and with his gris-gris walking stick, and also sporting some wicked snakeskin shoes.
Asked where to buy them? “At the pimp store!”

He thanked a long list of persons whose tutelage had made him who he was – a list that included New Orleans greats like Professor Longhair and Huey “Piano” Smith. And jokingly concluded, “If I didn’t mention you – too terrible!”
“I feel like I’m blessed to get an award from y’all — I feel like I’m blessed to be standing, to be breathing.  We just buried my drummer Saturday.  He’d been my drummer for 37 years.  I’ve played with a lot of cats for a long time because … we love what we do.”
“And all y’all that’s in this thing tonight…you’re blessed to be here.”

Lloyd Price inducted Art Rupe (record exec who signed Little Richard, Sam Cooke & others).
Doors’ drummer John Densmore is playing a djembe while inducting Jac Holzman (founder of Elektra Records).

Bette Midler inducts Darlene Love!
Such a pro! Every joke is so natural, she commands the stage.
“I spent 2 hours on hair & makeup, and I’m wearing a very serious undergarment — I’m using my whole 5 minutes!”
She’s killing. Who knew jokes about Lipitor and Viagra could be so rock n’ roll?
“At least now when you Google ‘bette midler rock and roll hall of fame,’ SOMETHING will come up.”

Then she thanked Love for “changing my view of the world” and called Love “the embodiment of teen spirit” in her era.
“No voice drove me crazier than Darlene Love’s. From the moment I experienced the powerhouse that was Darlene, I was a goner.”
“After her, all of us wanted to meet Rebel boys.  She picked us up by the scruff of our neck and shook the starch out of us. She has been robbed of royalties, but by no means of self-respect, and yet she lives without a trace of bitterness.”

Darlene Love accepting — glowing, glamorous, gorgeous. And that VOICE!  She’s 69 and looking & sounding fabulous.
Love fought back tears in her acceptance speech, saying she had faith that the gift God gave her would sustain her for the rest of her life.
Her speech elicited a standing ovation.

Springsteen and Tom Waits are having a vigorous handshake as Stooges music blasts through the hall.

Rock devil and occasional CSI: Miami director Rob Zombie inducts Alice Cooper.
Zombie’s decrying the state of rock music before Alice Cooper came on scene in 1969. Telling story of Alice Cooper’s start – with the aid of a Frank Zappa puppet.
“Alice Cooper invented the rock show. Before Alice Cooper, there was no rock show.”
“They’re more than a band. They were more like a murderous gang of drag queens … in a good way.”

Alice Cooper gives his induction speech with a giant yellow (live) snake on his shoulders.
He’s wearing a tux with his trademark black eye makeup, and a shirt splattered with blood.
After 16 years of eligibility, Alice Cooper said that getting into the hall was “like graduating. I feel like I’m getting a diploma — becoming a real person, ya know?”

He cited the Kinks, The Who and The Yardbirds, and said, “We’ve always been a hard rock band. We just wanted to decorate it a little differently.”
He singled out Glen Buxton for special praise, calling him “the heart and soul of our band, as black and dark as it may be.”
“I hope I never outgrow a Pete Townsend windmill chord,” he said. “I hope I never outgrow a Jeff Beck lead guitar. I wish I could tell you that being in the Hall now, we’ll never embarrass you, but I really can’t make that promise. After all, we are Alice Cooper. It’s what we do.”

Then each of the three surviving band members spoke.

They’re the first live performers of the night — and ultimately the only ones who play before the later all-music portion of the evening.
He and the original band perform “I’m Eighteen”
Under My Wheels
then “School’s Out” with Rob Zombie and schookids dressed like Alice.

“Alice Cooper (as a whole) has very cool outfits.”
Alice brings his giant snake to the press room.  😉

The following is from AC original bassist Dennis Dunaway’s daughter Renee . . .
“My dad & unk are INDUCTED!!!!”
[she must have married a nephew of one of the other bandmembers …?!]
“my dad is sparkling like crazy!”
“Bette Midler’s pointing and enjoying my dad. This is a dream.”
“Dad’s high kicks, ‘my bass is a machine gun’ — and bass-above-the-head move in full effect.”

Neil Young makes a loopily poetic introduction for Tom Waits.  “This next man is indescribable . . . and I’m here to describe him.”
Then called him a “magician, a spirit guide, a changeling.”

At the podium, Tom Waits took a bow, gave a tip of his hat, and said —
“Songs are interesting things to do with the air.”
on songwriting: “It’s like fishing, you gotta be quiet to catch the good ones.”
on his family: “They know me, and they love me anyway.”
on the industry:  “They say that I have no hits and I’m difficult to work with.  And they say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He recalled how, at age 15, he’d snuck in to see Lightnin’ Hopkins by putting “Wite-Out in my hair and drawing on a moustache.”
He compared his induction to receiving the key to the city of El Paso. “They told me there was only one,” he said, “but I found out there were a whole bunch of them, and they didn’t open anything.  So I hope there are some fringe benefits to this baby.”

Holding the statuette, he noted that it was “really heavy.  I’m wondering if there’s a keychain version I can keep on me so some day a guy will say ‘Pete, take the cuffs off — he’s a Hall of Famer.’”

Elton John inducts his hero Leon Russell with lots of “colorful metaphors.”
Elton on Leon: “You have to have someone to aspire to, or you’ll never achieve greatness.”
“I’m proud to induct a man who could eat me alive on piano.”

Leon Russell walked on stage slowly with the help of a cane and gave the shortest speech of the night.  He says: “Thank you very much. I appreciate it, and Hallelujah.”
Then he thanks Elton for their collaboration, saying he “found me in a ditch at the side of a highway of life and took me up to the high stages with big audiences, and treated me like a king.”

“When Neil Diamond was younger he was known as the Jewish Elvis Presley….” said Paul Simon.  “In many synagogues across the country, Elvis was considered a bogus Neil Diamond.”

“Why so long?” wondered Simon while saluting Diamond, before answering his own question. “I have a theory. Six words: ‘You Don’t Bring Me Flowers Anymore.’ Beautiful love song. Recorded with Barbra Streisand, one of the great voices of our time. But Barbra Streisand, rock and roll? I don’t think they even allow that kind of DNA near this place.”

Neil Diamondcomes out snapping photos on his iPhone as the fans in the balcony go wild.  Then says, “People in the $3000 seats, I love ya, but you make too much money.”
“I love you, too — even though you didn’t vote for me.”
addressing a ballroom full of music-business figures:  “Anybody here that I’ve worked with, will they admit it?”
Neil Diamond makes a rambling, disjointed, obscenity-laden speech.  “Where are we? What day is it? What time is it? And what the f*** country is this?”

Diamond, who had interrupted an Australian tour to come to the ceremony, deadpanned, “I write songs,” before explaining why his induction was so vital he flew halfway around to world to concentrate. “Being accepted by your peers and by people that you idolize is very special,” he said, “So I’m very pleased to be part of this shindig tonight. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Trust me, Neil Diamond’s acceptance speech is not to be missed! A speech for the ages.”

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11:30 PM — The main performance portion begins with Tom Waits.
There’s the smell of weed in the darkened tuxedoed room as he begins to play.

Tom performs “Make It Rain,” — belted out with raw gusto
“Rain Dogs,”
“House Where Nobody Lives”
then Tom pulls Neil Young onstage to jam on “Get Behind the Mule.”
“Waits is so twitchy and awesome.”
“Tom Waits set is amazing!  One of the best-ever.”
Waits was accompanied by his son Casey on drums, David Hidalgo of Los Lobos on guitar and accordion, Larry Taylor on bass, and Marc Ribot on guitar.

Surprise guest Judy Collins serenades Jac Holzman with a soaring  “Both Sides Now.”

Dr. John turns it up a notch with “Right Place Wrong Time,” with full-force backing from Letterman’s Late Night band with Will Lee & Anton Fig. 
He’s joined by an exuberant John Legend, trading verses and solos on “Such a Night.”

“Song of the night so far.”
“I’m pretty sure Dr. John has 4 hands….”
😉
“John Legend can sure roll those keys — even in the presence of the Doctor.”

Surprise guest John Mayer adds tasty guitar to Leon Russell‘s “A Song for You.”  — he killed it w/o stealing center stage.
Leon also does “Delta Lady.”

“John Legend + Dr. John = hotter than John Mayer + Leon Russell.”
Renee Dunaway

Bruce Springsteen’s playing guitar for Darlene Love’s set,
which opens with a funkified “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah,” then
“(Today I Met) The Boy I’m Gonna Marry” and
“He’s a Rebel” doing a rousing duet with Bette Midler, all with Springsteen on his twangy Telecaster.
“Holy pipes, Batman! Darlene Love sounds amazing!”

1:00 AM — “Neil Diamond‘s power is taking over me…”
he works the crowd, rocking into the wee hours with
“Cherry, Cherry,”
“I Am…I Said”
and a euphoric “Sweet Caroline” — where he gets Springsteen to join him.
“Now he’s down in the audience.  Now he’s standing on chair. Now Jann Wenner’s singing along.”
“Sweet Caroline — the song that miraculously becomes more fun the more times you repeat the chorus.”

4 Hall of Famers doing —>
* “Stagger Lee” ! ! ! — the Three Masters — Dr. John, Leon Russell, and Elton John — all with Lloyd Price takin lead vocal.

1:30 AM — Surreal finale:
“Da Doo Ron Ron” — with Darlene Love, Bette Midler, Neil Diamond, Alice Cooper, Leon Russell & Elton John.

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A Stagger Lee Addendum:

The 2nd last song of the night was  “Stagger Lee” sung by one of it’s most closely-associated artists, Lloyd Price, with Dr. John, Elton John and Leon Russell — which i cannot fuckin believe they played — on piano — on three pianos!  — it’s a fantastic, historic, multi-versioned song,  but traditionally a blues guitar — pray to gawd they air it, but i somehow doubt they will.  But i bet it’s gonna be the rock-hard crystal-clear musical diamond of the night. 😉 (and from what I heard, the Such A Night with John Legend was the other one)

Here’s the original Mississippi John Hurt “Stagger Lee” — he was another of those most closely associated with the original song.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8S-Pu6T0Q0

Then here’s Taj Mahal doin’ it old school — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lBsE4_GbGU

Then here’s a Lloyd Price version — the guy who rides vocals with Dr. John — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCPutYaGFlE(imagine it filled with grand piano solos by 3 different masters)

And here’s a jaw-dropping updated version by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYyl78qQPVI

And here’s Jerry & the boys doin’ it —  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6q3AE96TUE 😉

yours,
Sir Really

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For more Adventures in Music — you may want to check out the (Route) 66 Best live performances ever captured on film.

Or take the New Orleans Jazz Fest ride.

Or how The Grateful Dead came to play my 30th birthday.

Or the night Dylan showed up at Springsteen’s show at Shea Stadium in New York.

Or Paul Simon doing Graceland in Hyde Park in London.

Or Furthur came back and reprised the Dead at Madison Square Garden.

Or when the Dead, Janis, The Band and others took the Festival Express train trip across Canada.

Or the night I was hanging with Dr. John’s band in Toronto.

Or here’s the day I finally “got” Bob Dylan. 

Or the night we all lost John Lennon. 

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by Brian Hassett

karmacoupon@gmail.com                   BrianHassett.com

Long slow line winding around industrial waterfront of Toronto, on Lake Ontario, minus about 20 with the wind-chill, waiting to go into big square industrial box to absorb some very organic music.

Beers, you could smoke, and it wasn’t over packed.

He comes on about 8:35 wearing big white cowboy hat, and black western show suit.

First 3 or 4 songs his voice was raspier, more horse, scraggled, worn, shot than I’ve ever heard it.  First time age or the weather seemed to show in my nigh-on 20 years of Bob-hoppin.

Maggie – standard but real rockin and got the whole crowd right into it.  Very animated for Canada I thought

Lay Lady Lay – 2^nd drummer (richie) joins, larry on pedal steel

kinda stunned, don’t know if I’ve heard it before, maybe once, loved it, country, that voice & vibe.  Really takes me back to another time.

Lonesome Day – this and others kept sounding like Leopard Skin Pill-Box;  rockin;  2 drummers works great – love the extra KICK.  huge applause, big rocker.

I don’t believe you – harp solo.  this sure sounded like Mostly Likely You Go Your Way . . .

Tweedledee beer run.

You Ain’t Goin Nowhere – nuther country peak, Larry back on pedal steel, harp solo #2, and p.s. the sound was GREAT.  Mind you we were in front of the board, but could hear every instrument at will.

Cold Irons Bound – the rock n roll frenzy highlight of the night for me – no greatest song, but greatest rock ride.   The dance part of the song & dance man.

It Ain’t Me, Babe – upright bass, larry on acoustic, always great o hear and all, but didn’t take me to that other place.

Watchin The River Flow – that got there – love it — trancy, transportive, more country rock theme and vibe

Tom Thumbs – tries harp solo, doesn’t seem to go, so it’s tres short.   But a great set so far, pretty perfect playing, NYC ending nice to hear, and coming at the end there was a nice hoot in this young New York.

Shooting Star – fourth, final and maybe best and longest harp solo;  only one drummer – pretty lively.

Summer Days – great silly rock n roll song, I call it “the Chuck Berry song,” I dunno.  Or his Jumpin’ Jack Flash.

goes off, still hasn’t said a word to the audience.

Rolling Stone – which I thought was great, surprised, how does he keep breathing new life into these after version gazillion-and-one.  (“I know, maybe it’s  how good the song is.”)  I’ve been a little bit homeless lately and there he was bringing it all back home, singing right to me.

intros band, into Watchtower – which, again, I was expecting to be bored by but just loved it and people were dancing and going for it.

Larry was smiling, good two-guitar interplay / balance, but I found Freddy a little predicable.  Not complaining, but you’d think he could have a real innovative guy in that slot.

All-in-all a cracker-jack rock-n-roll band, playing the small venues for the hard-core.  Maybe I’m spoiled by now, and that his shows kept getting better for about 5 years running, but for me kool haus was sort of average great bob, except for the beginning where it sounded like he’d just gotten up from a long night of partying.

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For more Adventures in Bob, there’s his psychedelic portrayal in I’m Not There.

Or the night he showed up at Springsteen’s show at Shea Stadium in New York.

Or you may want to check out the (Route) 66 Best live performances ever captured on film.

Or take the New Orleans Jazz Fest ride.

Or how The Grateful Dead came to play my 30th birthday.

Or Paul Simon doing Graceland in Hyde Park in London.

Or Furthur came back and reprised the Dead at Madison Square Garden.

Or when the Dead, Janis, The Band and others took the Festival Express train trip across Canada.

Or the night I was hanging with Dr. John’s band in Toronto.

Or here’s the day I finally “got” Bob Dylan. 

Or the night we all lost John Lennon. 

=========================================

by Brian Hassett      karmacoupon@gmail.com        BrianHassett.com

I happened to be reading The Warren Commission when the the Tucson tragedy went down, and when I saw that mug shot with the left black eye and —  Click! . . . I started to notice an inordinate number of similarities between Oswald, Loughner and the two shootings . . .

Both were born on or near the southern border — Oswald in New Orleans, Loughner in Tucson.

both had the given name of Lee, and both often went by their three names.

both were of average weight, height and appearance — nothing physically unusual about either.

both were heterosexual, but both had few healthy relationships with female partners in their life, including during the year leading up to the shootings.

both read a lot, but both wrote in disjointed thoughts, and could not spell to save their lives.

both were areligious / anti-religion.

both had trouble in school, and both failed to finish high school.

both tried to join the army, and both were rejected  — Oswald in 1955 for being too young (he was accepted a year later), and Loughner in 2008 for admitting marijuana use.

both read and liked The Communist Manifesto, and both strongly and vocally opposed the capitalist system.

both disrespected, distrusted, and did not recognize the U.S. government as valid.

both were loners who grew more reclusive and disconnected to others as they entered and progressed through their twenties.

both had delusions of grandeur — as revealed in the writings each left behind.

both wrote specifically about revolution, and both were writing up their own new forms of society — Oswald planning a new government for after the overthrow, and Loughner with a new alphabet and currency.

both exhibited an escalating pattern of antisocial behavior, behaving increasingly erratic and inappropriate in the company of others.

both were only minimally communicating, and often arguing, with their immediate family in the months leading up to the shooting.

both were without a single close friend in the year leading up to the shooting.

both thought they were being bugged or followed by the government, and both grew more paranoid and conspiracy-obsessed with each passing month.

both were unable to hold a job for longer than a month or two.

both were almost the same age at the time of the shooting – twenty months apart — Loughner was 22 and 5 months, Oswald 24 and 1 month.

both exhibited every symptom of schizophrenia (you just read them) — which most commonly manifests in males between 18 and 28 years old, and specifically between 20 and 26 years old.

both carefully planned their shootings in advance.

both were gun owners who bought their weapons legally and easily — Oswald mail-ordered both his from magazine ads, and Loughner bought his over-the-counter at a local sports store.

both proudly had photographs taken holding their guns shortly before the shooting — Oswald in his back yard, and Loughner in his G-string.

both had their desired target make a daylight public appearance in the wide open outdoors, right at their workplace or mall.

both shot their intended target in the head.

both shot a popular sitting Democratic federal politician in their 40s, during the third year of a Democratic President’s first term.

both killed and wounded others in the process — Oswald killed Officer Tippit and wounded Governor Connally, Loughner killed six others and wounded seven more.

both were apprehended in a no-shots-fired manual take-down involving several people, and both received a black left eye in the process.

both were arrested for murder using a hand gun — Oswald initially for the pistol shooting of Officer Tippit.

both did something “crazy” and then behaved quite rationally once in custody.

both did not verbally cooperate with police in the days after capture.

both left a paper trail.

both had a larger political conspiracy ascribed to their actions immediately following their arrest.

both shootings were filmed — by Abraham Zapruder, and the Safeway surveillance cameras.

both shootings had a wide range of differing witness descriptions.

both shootings happened in a state bordering Mexico (there’s only 4 of them), and in each’s second largest city.

both shootings happened on a bright, sunny, Friday/Saturday morning around the same time — Oswald Friday at noon, Loughner Saturday at 10AM.

both shootings happened at the safest of places — a Safeway store, and a school book depository.

both acted alone.

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For another wild list type thing check out Famous People Who Didn’t Have Kids.

Or for a happier political story you can check out the Inauguration Adventures. 

Or for another crazy trip on the poli-Beat check out the Franken Fracas starring Al Franken and Howard Dean.

Or there’s the wild Election Night in New York City story — the greatest single-night party that city ever threw.

Or here’s my little poetic trip on the Obamarama ride complete with performance video.

Or here’s some funny political videos that are classics of their type. 

Or here were some crazy moment highlight memories of the wild 2012 election ride.

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Brian Hassett    —    karmacoupon@gmail.com     —     BrianHassett.com

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NYC, Dec. 8th, 1980 . . . the 3rd month and 3rd day in New York City, America, for this 19 year old kid.  My first week in town I went to the free Elton John concert in Central Park.  He played Imagine, and introduced it with, “He can probably hear us right now,” referring to John in his nearby park-side home at the Dakota.  On October 9th, I was walking in the Village and looked up in the sky and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN AND SEAN” was being written by an airplane — and I thought how neat it was to be living in the same town as John Lennon.

11:30 on a warm December night, in bed reading, all the lights in the loft are low, the SoHo streets are Monday night quiet, the calm before the storm.  Phone rings in the sleepy background, alarmingly late.  Roommate answers.  “Hello?”  The long odd silence.  Then the scream.  “Oh my God!  Brian!  Turn on the radio!  John Lennon’s been shot!”

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The late, wonderful Elizabeth Edwards put it well once:  Talking about losing their young son, she said, “People ask if you’ve gotten over it yet.  But, it’s like losing your leg and asking, ‘Have you gotten over that leg thing yet?’ You may eventually learn to get around without it, but you never forget. You never ‘get over it.’  It’s something missing that was a part of you.  You learn how to live without it, but you never stop missing it or wishing it was here.”

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WNEW-FM — the internet of the day.  The only connection to the outside world.  It was John’s radio station, the original and longest lasting rock station in New York, the one he showed up at one day as a surprise and played records with the deejay all afternoon.

After an hour of radio group-therapy, I needed to be with people.  I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping.  So this young squeaky-white Canuck ventured out into the nearly 1970s New York war zone streets that just killed John Lennon, and took a 75-cent A-Train uptown to 72nd Street.

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Everyone is crying but no one makes a sound,

Nobody told me there’d be days like these,
Strange days indeed.

John Lennon, 1980

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The Dakota, 2AM — as I walk up, a couple hundred people are swaying back and forth, singing, “Alllll we are saaaaying, … is give peace a chance,” every one with peace sign fingers swaying towards the heavens.

It’s the dark of night, under haunting streetlight.  Beatles songs play from a transistor radio, and a hundred people are singing every word.  The other hundred are crying.

Every cheek is wet, every eye is red, and most hands hold candles.  Pretty much everyone’s come here alone.  We’re all scared, numb, in shock, quiet, just standing, surrounded by others.  Family.  In mourning.  All are somber, but some not so sober, with joints being smoked and beers drank openly in the old New York.

I’m leaning on the rickety blue police barricade, five or ten feet from where John last stood, looking at the patch of washed sidewalk.  People come and stand, usually silently, for a few minutes, then walk away.  Some bring flowers and reach down underneath the barricade to gently lay them on the pavement.  Some ask and are allowed to go and weave them into the wrought-iron gate.  Some do the sign of the cross and say a prayer.  Everyone is weak, gentle, and white as a ghost.

There’s this one Hamburg-type leather jacket tough-guy who’s crying really loud at one point, almost scaring people.  Suddenly he reaches some breaking point and angrily rips off his road-aged motorcycle jacket and with this primal scream, throws it down into the mass of flowers and photos. Stripped of his armor, the t-shirted man quickly dissolves into the crowd a different person — but Elvis’s rock n roll leather is now part of the collage.

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You may say that I’m a dreamer,
But I’m not the only one,
I hope someday you’ll join us,
And the world will be as one.

Imagine!!!

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The Dakota, 6AM — What the assembled didn’t know was that the darkness of the night just past was to be our only true memorial, when it was just us.

Our beautiful, tranquil, soulful, solemn, candlelit darkness gave way
from the John Lennon mourning to the New York morning —
with news vans driving,
the human flood arriving,
the streets returning to their New York life —
……and when any part of a pathway’s blocked,
……the city just flows around it like a boulder in a river —
first a trickle,
then a gushing cascade of swirling briefcases out the narrow skyscraper crevasses
into the flow of the sidewalk earth.

What was once ours, was no longer.
It was their’s now.

The Spirits took over and pulled me, and me alone, into the bright light of heaven … Central Park … somehow safe under its winter skeleton canopy, into what’s now known as Strawberry Fields, where I took my place on the throne of a bench in the bird-chirping dawn.

For those first few hours of darkness, we had the Cathedral of St. John the Divine to ourselves.  But even in that new day’s light I could still hear the echoing choir, like I can still hear it now, everyone softly and endlessly singing,

“All-l-l-l-l-l-l we are sa-a-a-aying . . .
is … give peace a chance.”

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For a cool story of the time George Harrison saw the Beat play The Beard and raved about it to Paul McCartney — check out The Beatles, The Beats & The Beard.

Or here’s the de facto sequel to Get Back — when John Lennon flew to Toronto to perform at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Revival with the Plastic Ono Band.

Or for more Adventures in Music — you may want to check out the (Route) 66 Best live performances ever captured on film.

Or here’s a happy comparison of John & Paul to Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld.

Or take the New Orleans Jazz Fest ride.

Or the night Dylan showed up at Springsteen’s show at Shea Stadium in New York.

Or how The Grateful Dead came to play my 30th birthday

Or when Neil Young returned to Massey Hall in Toronto.

Or Paul Simon doing Graceland in Hyde Park in London.

Or Furthur came back and reprised the Dead at Madison Square Garden.

Or when the Dead, Janis, The Band and others took the Festival Express train trip across Canada.

Or the night I was hanging with Dr. John’s band in Toronto.

Or here’s the day I finally “got” Bob Dylan.

=========================================

by Brian Hassett      karmacoupon@gmail.com        BrianHassett.com