As Dave Alvin said so simplistically “Hey, hey baby it’s the 4th of July” or it was depending on when you’re checking in. Hope it served you all well and the spirits were willing.

We all know that times are strange and the ying and the yang seem to be balanced precariously these days so I’m happy to report that we dodged a bullet this week that could have bought the crazy train to town.

For the last few days I’ve been grabbing calls from sympathizers commiserating with me on the potential influx of mourners, carneys and single glove sympathizers who were about to disrupt the tranquility of these parts. Yes, I refer to the circus that was and still remains the post Michael Jackson marathon mad fest. It was rumored, reported and fed into the pipeline that we were going to be the recipients of a massive wake for the departed boy wonder here in the Valley at that sprawling acreage of patented bad taste called Neverland.

Sorry about that last reference, I wouldn’t want to offend anyone’s architectural tastes. I guess if you dig Disneyesque Tudor Gothic then hey, well it might just be you’re thing. However critical observations aside we all got to enjoy a collective sigh of relief when someone from the Court of the deceased King thought better of it and decided to abort the invasion. I guess they imagined a scene reminiscent to that one at the end of “Frankenstein” when the villagers having had it up to their smocks in weirdness descend on the offenders and route their hineys out of town. I’m sure that old ambulance chaser Al Sharpton didn’t relish a bunch of disgruntled cowboys and vintners pitchforking his rear down 154.

Actually talking of the Rev I was interested by his take on Michael Jackson’s significance in regards to his influence on African American culture. Apparently Michael set the pace and paved the way for the likes of Tiger Woods and the President. If that’s the case why did Jackson spent a healthy chunk of change and most of the 80’s trying to turn himself white? Plus we’re told if it wasn’t for Jackson there’d be no Usher, Neo, Yo Yo, Mo Mo or any of the other abbreviations, Yea well without James Brown dude there’d have been no Michael Jackson.

That’s it rant over except that isn’t it strange that we lost one of the seventies great eccentrics to the echo of mass media hysteria and the passing of a little known 60’s eccentric made a couple of lines in the obits. Sky Saxon man! Founder and leader of those fuzzed out, razor edged garage gods the Seeds passed away with no fanfare. Well I’ll salute ya’ Sky and blast out a couple of spins of “Pushin’ to Hard” for ya’. He was madder than a sack of hammers but he rocked. Bless him.

Hey! so I just got done rereading Mez Mezzrow’s “Really the Blues” possibly the finest book of it’s kind on the birth of jazz and one of my favorite books period. A sort of “On the Road” for the hep cat set. A historical panorama of 20’s living, blowing and busting through the doors of another America. It just reeks of cool music, smoke filled dives, hoodlums and outrageously cool individuals hell bent on swinging till the lights burn out. Read this book and you’ll be aching to throw on some Tommy Ladnier, Eddie Cantor and King Oliver.

OK I’m done. See you around the bend.

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