Jazz and Poultry

My Yankee Bile

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:42:57 GMT

In 2006 the Detroit Tigers won the wildcard and went on to lose to the St Louis Cardinals in the World Series. This was an incredible turnaround from 2005 when they finished 72-90. In 2003 they almost set the record for worst MLB season ever finishing at 43-119. Part of me pities the Yankee fan who will never know that kind of jubilation. Their joy is contrived and they will always have rat bastard Giuliani in the front row with his shit-eating grin as God Bless America plays in perpetuity during the joyless 7th inning stretch.

Busy day in the Northeast

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 05:41:32 GMT

I drove to Connecticut to drop off some computers to my brother-in-laws office. Then I came back down and taught two home-schooled Larchmont kids (westchester) piano lessons. Then I drove across Westchester to Yonkers for my regular after-school piano teaching, after which I went back across Westchester and down to the Bronx to visit my best friend. We watched a great documentary on the Baroness Panonica who was a jazz aficionado and took care of Thelonious Monk late in his life when he was sick. Now I'm back in Queens.

Gypsy

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 05:34:22 GMT

Tonight I watched the movie version of Gypsy starring Rosalind Russell, Karl Malden, and a young Natalie Wood. It wasn't that good of a film -- bloated and overdone -- but the music is outstanding. Julie Styne wrote the music and Steven Sondheim did the lyrics. You may recall that Sondheim also wrote the lyrics to West Side Story. Soon after he would go on to write musicals of his own.

My father has told me about seeing the original cast on Broadway with Ethel Merman and the way he described it it sounded spectacular. I wish I could have seen that. I have seen youtube videos of Merman singing "Some People" and believe me it is incredible. I have the utmost respect for Merman's singing even though she is a far cry from the jazz singers that I listen to. (Dinah Washington, Billie Holiday, Nancy Wilson) She has a natural way of phrasing and of course the built-in megaphone of a voice.

Nevertheless, when you watch a musical, be it a great film such as Oklahoma or the Sound of Music, or flawed efforts such as Guys and Dolls, Carousel, and Gypsy (the films, not the shows) you are going to hear great melodies. Melodies that are so sweet and lyrical that you may cry. I defy you to listen to If I Loved You and hold back the waterworks.

Walking the dog

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 06:00:31 GMT

Coming back from walking the dog there as a guy coming out the building with a pit bull mix. I could see he was reticent about the dogs passing close to each other so I stepped back so that he could pass. As he passed my dog suddenly broke free and rushed at his dog. I screamed her name and she came back to me but before I could grab the leash she rushed back at the other dog. The guy said "why don't you pick up the leash?" As I was able to grab my dog's leash I screamed at him "Don't you think I would have picked up the leash if I could?!"

Him: Fuck you.

Me: Fuck you

Him: Fuckin' midget

Chestnuts

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 06:56:38 GMT

I played the first Christmas gig of the season tonight -- a house party on Long Island. We as musicians have this oddity -- a December repertoir. It's like unpacking this songs out of mothballs. You have to get the dust off of them on that first gig and then you're good to go. Do I like Chestnuts in Eb or F? Where does Let It Snow go on the bridge again? What's that good Charlie Brown song again? Oh yeah, it's Christmas Time is Here. Or is it Wintertime is Here?

Now these tunes are good to go and for the next two and a half weeks we'll be running them into the ground. Then we'll pack them away for another 11 months.

The perfect plan

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 17:34:55 GMT

It's amazing the situation Obama finds himself in with regard to the 'war on terror.' If he pulls out of Afghanistan he will be lambasted for the 'cut and run.' If he doubles down with 100,000 troops he's repeating the mistake of Vietnam and alienating his base. So he takes the middle ground -- splits the difference -- with 30,000 troops and a supposed withdrawal date. This effectively pleases nobody. He is still getting lambasted from the right for allowing the Taliban to lay low until we leave. Left wingers such as myself are appalled at the meaningless loss of life and resources over a war we can't hope to win. This is the genius of Bush/Cheney/Rove's decision to perpetrate an illegal and needless war against Iraq. They knew we would never leave. All they needed from it was to inspire enough jingoism to win them one election in 2004, which it did, After they won the election there was no incentive to get out. Why would they? Look what they left their predecessor. Now the Repubs can effectively campaign against a weakened Obama presidency in 2012. Simple, yet diabolic.

Why there can never be a cost of living increase in jazz.

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 22:32:41 GMT

    A warm welcome and a hearty g'day to ya. Crack open a kangaroo beer, put a shrimp on the barbie and...wait, I just remembered -- I'm not Australian. So you found your way here to this blog and by now you're probably wondering, where the hell is the content? What did you expect, pole dances? I'm working on it! Give me time. I'm a pianist, not a blogger, damnit! Did I just curse? We'll edit that out.

   What's the deal with musician's salaries? We haven't received a cost of living increase since the beginning of the 20th century. (thank you, TR!) The few times I have had the nerve to ask a club owner for a raise I've been made to feel like Oliver Twist. More?!!

My favorite was 25 years ago - I had this gig in the East Village -- the place was called Princess Pamela's Little Kitchen. Pamela weighed in at about 250 and was a surly blues singer who verbally abused her customers, but since it was the '80s the yuppies who came there loved it. They were like, "Thank you maam, may I have another?"

   But I digress. The gig paid $20.00 but since it was 1985 that actually paid for 21 rides on the MTA.  I had recently moved to Brooklyn and the commute was considerably longer so I had this idea to ask for a raise. A $5.00 raise. I had to go through channels and I asked the bass player, who was the boyfriend of Pamela. "Let me get back to you on that," he told me after our gig.

   Three days later I get a call from him: "We're not working this week." In reality however, it was just me who was not working.  That was how they fired me!

   But I have since gone on to bigger and better pastures, increasing my average salary by as much as five fold. What a country!

    That's it for post number one.  Leave me a comment and let me know you're out there and in return I'll keep on supplying you with scintillating content. Good day

Socialist, war monger, or both?

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 03:38:17 GMT

As a lifelong Democrat and liberal I find myself in a perplexing position. I am vehemently against Obama's policy of increasing the troop number in Afghanistan. Billion of dollars -- which could much better be spent bolstering our own economy, -- and tens of thousands of lives are being squandered. This is a war we can never win and we are propping up a country that has an illegitimate government, and in fact is ungovernable.

These feelings I have are identical to the ones I had in regards to the Iraq war. I want to feel proud of this president but right now all I see is a classier version of Bush. So I am in the unique position of disapproving of my president for being too far to the right, while Republicans continue to malign him as a socialist. Just how far to the left of center am I?

Here's something different

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 06:49:36 GMT

I played at an affair for a corporate party today. It was a very interesting room built right under the approachway to the 59th st bridge, also known as the Queensborough Bridge. I've done this gig for 20 years running -- it's always the last Monday in November -- and up until this year it's been held at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center. (another pain in the ass place to get to)

After the gig the catering hall maitre D said we had to use the service elevator rather than the front exit. Nothing new about this to musicians, and frankly I wasn't even that upset since I had parked closer to that exit. When I pushed the button to the service elevator one of the waiters standing nearby said "You have to find it and.bring it upstairs." This meaning we would have to go floor to floor until we located the elevator and pilot it back upstairs. I said 'fuck this' and went out the front.

Lost in Queens!

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 16:58:57 GMT

A few posts back -- shamefully -- three months ago, I posted the rough draft for the liner notes of my upcoming CD. Time has passed amd I now possess the CD -- the finished project -- and although it is not officially released yet (it will be in April) you can own it before the masses do.

It is called "Lost In Queens" and I can safely say that it is the world's first jazz concept album...about Queens! I am very proud of how it turned out. It was recorded last year and the music represents my playing and composing with my working trio. In this music you will hear all of the angst, joy, and pent up sexual tension that I have discussed in this blog. Consider yourselves to have the advantage over the average "Lost In Queens" purchaser.

That said I am offering a "Jazz Poultry" discount. Order a CD from me and I will ship it to you for free. Make sure you mention the blog, either in the order form or in an email and I will forgo shipping costs. This offer is good throughout the rest of the year. What a stocking stuffer it will make!

I have a website that is in the process of being designed but at this point can handle CD orders. So check it out!

keitho

Where have I been?

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 05:41:01 GMT

I have been brooding, I have been practicing, I have been suffering with another Yankees World Series. I have been gigging and I have been composing. I have been stewing about health care and I have been disgusted at the lack of spine shown by the Democrats.

But what I have not been doing is writing and that will now change. Since I got facebook, and then twitter account,s my urge to write in this blog has lessened. I believe that this has led to a state of depression, slightly below the radar, but palpable novertheless. There's a kind of anxiety that comes with updating and waiting for responses on social media. At first it was a kind of dopamine release, but lately it feels leaden.

So I come back to you, dear readers. Let's see what we can get accomplished.

Beta testing liner notes to my upcoming CD.

Wed, 19 Aug 2009 05:05:54 GMT

There comes a time in every New York musician's life, when he must load up his vehicle, point it east, and embark on a journey to the largest of New York City's five boroughs, Queens. In order to reach this strange and wondrous place, one must travel on a road which begins at the exit of the Midtown tunnel, and terminates 71 miles later at Riverhead, Long Island. Its name, which strikes fear into the heart of the most punctual of musicians, is the Long Island Expressway.

Our intrepid musician emerges from the tunnel onto a modern three lane highway, the urban sprawl of Queens in front of him, and the majestic skyline of Manhattan in his rear view mirror. He is pleasantly surprised at the ease in which he is able to achieve speeds of upwards of 50 miles an hour, and he begins planning a diversionary trip to Starbucks to kill the inevitable hour of free time that awaits his early arrival. That is until, mere minutes later, he crests a hill and is confronted with the stark reality of bumper to bumper traffic. He begins to formulating an excuse for his late arrival when he spots a possible escape valve.

There is an alternative, but few have possessed the wherewithal and the moxie to attempt it. I'm speaking of the infamous Maspeth cutoff; which has been rumored to have shaved as much as forty minutes off of driving time. Developed by Henry Hudson in the 17th century as a trading route with the Massapequa tribe, it eventually fell into disrepair and was forgotten, resurfacing for a brief period in the 1920s when Franklin Delano Roosevelt used it to decoy press and paparazzi on his way to the Jamaica OTB.

That was the last anyone had heard of the Maspeth cutoff until, one afternoon, late for work and stuck in traffic, I had the gall to exit the L.I.E. Off I went into the bowels of western Queens, confident in my ability to succeed where untold others had failed. This is the story of why I failed, and why others after me will fail:

The L.I.E.is not a straight East/West road, but a series of long, arcing curves. The city streets are not perpendicular, but veer off at 40 degree angles, confusing the driver into believing he is heading east, when, in fact, he is driving south. I shudder with terror as I recall the series of one way streets which lead onto narrow, pock-marked roads, which dead-end at vacant lots. There were chop shops, a towing pound, warehouses that produced toxic gases, and chemical factories. Each road steered me further and further from my destination.and it soon became apparent that I had lost my sense of direction. I broke out in a cold sweat as the minutes became hours. I asked for directions but no one could tell me how to return to the L.I.E. Very few of them had ever left Maspeth. Eventually I came to the cold realization that I could never leave and I began to look for an apartment. I found a cold water flat on Eliot Ave, eventually marrying a Romanian slubberdoffer named Uzana. You see, one does not escape from Maspeth, he settles there.

And so, a cautionary tale for you. the reader. Do not leave the highway for any reason whatsoever. The choice is yours. You can be late for a gig, or you can live in Queens.

Notes on the music. This date, inspired by the perils of Western Queens, represents the composing and the playing that I have done with my trio over the past three years. Bim Strasberg and Taro Okamoto are not only two of my favorite musicians, but two of my closest friends. I met Taro on my very first gig in New York City, over 25 years ago. He doesn't remember that muscle-bound kid with the young Burt Lancaster looks and the Mercedes convertible. And it's no wonder -- that wasn't me. Taro, however, made a great impression on me, and I was delighted when years later we would reconnect as members of trumpeter Richie Vitale's quintet. Taro has worked, and recorded with Richie Vitale, David Schnitter, Hank Jones

I have known Bim Strasberg for almost as long, working in a myriad of musical situations, some dubious, but most great. There was the time we played for Madonna's CD release party wearing asbestos suits while on fire. But I've said too much. During the early 1990s Bim and I became co-leaders of the NY HardBop Quintet. Through several tours of the U.S., Japan, and Switzerland, countless club gigs in New York, and four CDs on the TCB Music label we forged a close personal, as well as musical friendship. Bim has worked and recorded with Charles McPherson, Bootsie Barnes, Mickey Roker,

The Group begins the date with a great introduction from Taro, and after some hilarity involving a B flat minor chord and various household appliances, the song reaches it's conclusion. Jerome Kern's Nobody Else But Me, features Bim, who is one of the most lyrical players I know. It was pleasure to hear his conception of this song. Every record needs a boogaloo -- at one point, I believe, it was in the bylaws of the union. Ours is a tribute to my best friend, the Bronx's finest, Jeff Mazzei. Lucy is my daughter and this, along with the old HBQ songs Little Jake, Leevin Von Cleefe, and Debra, completes my bevy of family songs -- unless I start on the cousins. Bim and I came up with some interesting changes to Cole Porter's I Concentrate on You many years ago when we were perforrning it during an early HardBop (Trio!) tour of California in 1992. We never quite worked it out for quintet, but about a year ago I came up with a fresh arrangement and began performing it. The vamp was a lot of fun to come up with, but tricky to play over as there's no real tonal center. A little vodka usually solves that problem on the gig, but for the recording I used the motivational technique of donning lederhosen and screaming "damn the torpedoes!" Now it plays itself.

And that, my friends, is a show. We hope you enjoy this affectionate tribute to the borough of Queens, and remember, don't drive drunk.

Tweetbook

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 15:30:32 GMT

I read a somewhat depressing article in Sunday's Times stating that the amount of abandoned blogs are increasing exponentially as more and more people migrate over to Twitter and Facebook. I felt a pang of guilt as I read the article, not the least because I am guilty of the same.

I have kept this blog for almost 5 years and feel a loyalty to my small, but treasured readership. But I too have become enamored of the immediacy of twitter, and the nostalgia of reconnecting with old friends that facebook offers.

I have no intention of abandoning this blog, however. I am nothing, if not stubborn, and I intend to keep this going as long as I have fingers to type with. Who would have thought that blogging would count as long-form media? Attention spans are decreasing to be sure, but there must be some room for paragraphs on web 2.0.

accent or affectation?

Fri, 22 May 2009 15:58:51 GMT

A few months ago I had a post about a certain accent or dialect that I have noticed around New York City. Here is an excerpt:

I know one thing that confounds me is the hard O. For instance the O sound in Tom or com. It sounds like it comes from way back in the throat. Not quite British and not quite New England. If any of you listen to WNYC there is a woman who does the promos and she speaks this way. It's the way that I imagine a Vassar or Barnard grad speaks. "You're listening to WNYC dot cahhm."

Then there is "Thank you so much" (I hate that expression) That comes out sounding "Think you so much." And the general elongating of the vowels leading to that valley-girl sound. Towtally.

I realize I'm probably talking about more than one accent here. The valley girl accent -- oh muh god!!! -- is different than that preppy way of pronouncing the hard Os. Emyn commented on the valley girl portion of my post:

Emyn: I know how that sound. It's like, ya know, towtally immachurr. With a tone that's, like, tilting at the uhnd of uhvry sentuhns. It's, like, so awfuuuuhhhlll!

She is dead on in her assessment. But for now I am obsessed with the 'preppy' accent. I even catch myself doing it. Is it Northeast regional? I was even thinking it could be a Manhattan thing -- they don't have the hardcore New Yawk accent in Manhattan. That's more a Brooklyn/Queens/Bronx/Long Island trait. I just want to know where this originates from. Is it something that has always existed and I never noticed until now -- or is it a recent phenomenon?

June: Part 2

Thu, 21 May 2009 16:52:45 GMT

When we last left off our hero was driving with his date to a seafood restaurant in Venice:

We arrived, parked, and were walking down a deserted street on the way to the restaurant when June dropped her glasses. She reached down to pick them up and a sudden rush of adrenalin ran through me as I saw that she was not wearing panties. I don't know what came over me but I ran my hand down the length of her exposed ass. As I was doing this she lingered, pretending to fumble with her glasses and when she emerged she grinned and gave me a wink.

I remember nothing of dinner. My next memory is back at her place where she invited me in for a drink. She excused herself telling me that her fishnets were itching her and she wanted to change out of them. When she returned we were sitting on the floor near her bed. I leaned in to kiss her and she leaned away from me, but in a coy, teasing way. After a minute we were in locked in a full embrace my hands exploring her exposed legs and thighs. I leaned her back against the bed, spread her legs and explored her now wet pussy with my tongue.

After awhile we climbed into her bed and she did something I had never had done before or since: She straddled me with a rolled up condom between her hands and with one motion put it on my cock as she slid onto me. Wow! Words cannot describe how good that felt.

Well we had a lot of sex that night, my friends -- in many different positions. This was probably one of the reasons for desiring a younger guy -- they can go all night! But unfortunately for me, it was only one night. I saw June a few times after that, but she had her boyfriend, and I would soon be off to New York to see how the East Coast women did it.

June

Wed, 20 May 2009 17:10:03 GMT

Well the weather is warming up so the poultry man's mind turns to sex. (as if his mind stays chast in the cold weather months. Pshyeahhh)

I remember June -- we had one date, in the year of our Lord 1983. She came to one of my gigs with her boyfriend, a fellow pianist. During that gig she flirted innocently (or so I thought) with me. She ended up giving me her number on some pretence which at the moment escapes me.

I called her the next week and we made a date to go out to a seafood restaurant in Venice, CA. June was an older woman -- she had achieved the ripe age of 38, which for my 23 year old self was incredibly exotic. She was a thin, lithe woman who smiled easily and had a kind of half-stoned, hippy-dippy air about her.

I arrived to find her attired in a mini skirt and fishnet stockings. We sat down, made nervous small talk, and she offered me a joint. When we went out to my car to leave for the restaurant she kissed me long and hard on my mouth, telling me that she was wanted to get it over with so that we could dispense with nervousness. That line may actually be from a Woody Allen movie, but bear with me. She really did kiss me, however. More in part two...

Star Trek

Tue, 12 May 2009 17:01:07 GMT

Am I the only one who wasn't blown away by Star Trek? See here's the thing: The original show was idealistic, corny and had special effects that looked like they were invented in, well, 1968. But for all it's flaws and bombast, it had a sincerity about it -- a sweetmess, if you will, that gave it integrity.

Even though this Trek looks better, and has much better acting, where is the soul? I feel like the filmaker is winking at me -- "Remember this? And this? Remember how gruff, yet loveable McCoy was? How Chekoff couldn't pronounce his Vs?" I'm tired of being winked at. I get it -- I'm a boomer and so everything must be eternally hip. Give me some grease.

More on Bea

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:14:12 GMT

Was reading yesterday about the two part episode of Maude where she has an abortion. I actually remember watching this as a kid. I'm not sure how it registered for me back then, but can you imagine there being a sitcom today dealing with this issue? Not only that, the episode aired a few months before Roe v Wade was enacted.

My Bea Arthur encounter

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:00:55 GMT

Bea Arthur, the actress who portrayed Maude in the 70s, died. I always liked this brash, bold comedienne. Here is a recounting of meeting her.

25 years ago, when I still lived in L.A., I had a solo gig at a trendy restaurant in the Palisades. One night Bea Arthur came in with her husband and some friends. On the way out she was smashed, and as she passed the piano she commanded, in her best Maude voice, "Play Lady is a Tramp!" I obeyed and she proceeded, in the middle of this staid, understated restaurent, to belt out "Tramp." Her husband was doing his best to get her to leave. "Cmon honey, let's go..." And she shouted back to him, "Don't worry, honey, I'll fuck ya later!"

Peppers and Onions

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 04:06:09 GMT

At last it can be told...or can it? This is one of those stories that should be filed under 'you had to be there,' but I am willing to give it the ol' college try so that I can share a special memory with you, the reader.

Some years ago I worked in a trio that backed up a group of rhythm tap dancers. Actually, I still work with them, but now our gigs are far and few between. At that time, the early to mid 90s, we were working and touring quite a bit.

One autumn day we found ourselves in Richmond Virginia. Our gig was early, ending around 6PM, and by 8PM four of us found ourselves ensconced in one of our motel rooms in front of the TV watching a Yankee/Oriole playoff game.

The drummer, bassist, one of the dancers, and yours truly were there, and not wanting to miss a pitch of the game, we decided to order in for pizza. We settled on a pie with peppers and onions. I must have not had much say in the matter -- I hate both of these toppings.

Of course we had some beers, and the dancer was a big pot guy so I'm sure we must have indulged ourselves. As it happened, I was the person doing the ordering so I phoned Dominos pizza.

Me: Hi, I'd like to order a large pie with Peppers and Onions.

Dominos: Peppers and what?

Me: Peppers and onions.

Dominos: Pepperoni and Onions?

Me: No, no, peppers and onions.

Dominos: Peppers and Olives?

Me. Peppers and ONIONS.

Dominos: Please hold.....OK, One large pie with Onions and pepperoni

Now...at first the other guys were watching the game, but gradually it began to dawn on them that I was still on the phone and repeating peppers and onions over and over. They couldn't hear the dominos guy -- all they heard was me growing more and more agitated and repeating PEPPERS AND ONIONS. They began to laugh, which in turn set off a chain reaction, caused me to laugh. Eventually this morphed into hysterics.

Dominos: Peppers and what?

Me: Pep...pep...pep...BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Dominos: I can't understand you.

Me: Just put whatever you want on it!

So there you have it. From that day forward 'peppers and onions' became a rallying cry for those of us who experienced the strange vortex of the Richmond, VA Dominos. Now, whenever i see Josh, the tap dancer, he and I call out to each other 'PEPPERS AND ONIONS,' and then we hug.