One Last Song (And then Another!)

Thanks to Liz, for this great shot of Chuck Berry and Daryl Davis trading places at B. B. King's.  I'm told they were doing "Wee Wee Hours." 

And thanks to the obsessive Mr. Spaur and "girlwithabrick," we've got a bit of "School Day."  And it's sounding sweet!

Who Wrote Shakespeare's Plays?

Check out the letter from Bob Lohr at the bottom of this article about the Johnnie Johnson MOVIE.

More about the New Years Shows

Daryl Davis talks about backing Chuck Berry-- and he'll be doing it again in New York on New Year's Eve.  http://www.nypost.com/p/entertainment/music/berry_picking_xA7HvbouqPhjDBDJNTyqUP

Daryl was there when Bruce Springsteen backed Berry back in the 1970s.  Springsteen talks about it in "Hail! Hail! Rock and Roll."  Since then Davis has made a career of it.

Number One for ME

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/100-greatest-artists-of-all-time-19691231/chuck-berry-19691231

New Years in New York

Rolling Stone (which has seen the light) has put B. B. King's on its list of must be places for New Years Eve:  Read about it HERE!  (B. B. will be playing a few miles away in Atlantic City.)

Chuck, Ingrid and Daryl: Can't Stop THIS Train!

Looks to me as if the house band had a pretty good time.  Merry Xmas!

Omar Sharriff Goes Home!

Here's a story made for the season: the town of Marshall, Texas wants its native son to return.  Check out this GREAT STORY about the great boogie woogie and blues piano player Omar Sharriff, formerly Dave Alexander.  You can hear him in the post just below this.

A Boogie Woogie "Boogie Bob" Christmas in Marshall, Texas

Robert "Boogie Bob" Baldori, who played harp on "Back Home,"and whose band The Woolies backed Chuck Berry on "San Francisco Dues" (and at countless live shows,) does a duet with Bob Seeley in Marshall, Texas December 17, 2010, Seeley's spontaneous dance undoubtedly celebrating the imminent arrival of baby Leila Tulane O'Neil 2000 miles away in a colder, darker clime.  (They just didn't know they were celebrating that momentous event.)



I would have liked to be at that show (except that it would have meant missing the bigger one in Seattle) because in addition to Seeley & Baldori the show featured the great Omar Sharriff, a man I first saw play at a little coffee house in San Jose, California back in 1973.  (It was a good room.  A few weeks later blues pianist Mark Naftalin put on a solo show there. )  At the time Sharriff went by the name Dave Alexander and had a couple of fine records out on Arhoolie.  I've got one of them.  The piano on that one sounds like it was driven by the atomic clock.  Here he is, nearly 40 years later, sounding mighty fine.



You can read more about Sharriff HERE

Just Let Me Hear Some Of That Algebra Equation

Chuck Berry is always quick to say that he is good at math.  Here's a math professor writing about the musical mathematics of Chuck Berry.  http://thechronicleherald.ca/ArtsLife/1218093.html

Lord, Bless and Welcome My Little...

Well, let's not jinx it.  But the girl I wanted to name ____ may just give the beautiful Leila a GREAT middle name.  Go head on, Leila!

Bo Diddley, diddley bow, and a BEAT from West Africa

From 1980 until 1983 I lived in the West African nation of Togo. Togo is a tiny place with about 40 different ethnic groups. I lived in the southern half of the country in a town called Kougnohou, which translates exactly as “Death is Better.” It was the biggest town for a people called the Akebou. I don’t know how many Akebou there are, but there weren’t too many back in 1980. They were squeezed between larger groups like the Ewe, Twi, Akposso and Ana people. The Akebou have their own distinct language, but many of their other customs were part of the larger fabric of the region, heavily influenced by the larger and better known Ashanti (or Twi) people.

For a time in Africa I actually started to enjoy going to funerals. A typical funeral involved several consecutive nights of eating, drinking, and visiting, finally culminating in a long night of drumming, singing and dancing. Funerals often took place long after the body was buried. It sometimes takes a couple of years for a family to save enough money to celebrate a loved one's life with sufficient gusto. When important people died the ceremony could include visitors from all the surrounding villages. They all expect to eat and drink. And the dancing becomes a sort of competition.

When I was there men generally danced with men, and women with women. Both bent at the waist and pounded their feet powerfully on the ground. I remember one old woman who literally made the ground shake so that I could feel it 15 or 20 feet away. Usually two or three people would dance at one time, walking towards the center of the circle, linking up visually, and then bursting simultaneously into a powerful dance that would last about 20 seconds. If they were good, people would let them know.

The women would keep their upper bodies gently bent in what looked almost like a curtsy, raising their shoulders and elbows while their feet stamped rhythmically. Men would crouch with their elbows back and snap their backs and shoulders up and down. At the end they would jerk into a pose that said “Top that!” If they were good people would go crazy. It was all fueled by a local white lighting called petesi, or strong palm wine. (On rare occasions, fueled by same, I entered the circle myself. The roar of the crowd was even more intoxicating than the local gin. I was like one of the folks on American Idol who make a spectacle of themselves before millions. I can't dance, you know I wish I could!)

There could be hundreds of people at any given celebration. There were six or eight serious musicians, but nobody sat idle. Everyone was given sticks of “pamprankou,” a light wood from raffia plants to tap to a beat that went “tap tap tap-tap, tap tap tap-tap.” (Children, learn to write music!) The serious musicians were mostly drummers who beat out rhythms I could barely begin to understand.

But the backbone of that beat was done by a singer playing a sort of double cow-bell called the gong-gong. And often the beat on the gong-gong was one you know-- the Bo Diddley beat: shave and a haircut. Or more precisely in this instance:

“shave-haircut: two bits; shave-haircut: two bits.”

I used to hear the funerals but didn't think I'd be welcome. The drums and voices would carry for miles. Once my neighbors were having a funeral and I actually dreamed that Bo Diddley was performing at a private party next door. I woke up a little disappointed.

Years later, “Back in the USA,” I saw a documentary about how African traditions survived in the United States. The documentary showed a kid in South Carolina playing a simple stringed instrument similar to what I had seen kids in Togo make.

The announcer was one of those serious public television types. He said, without irony or recognition, “the instrument is called a ‘diddley bow.’”

I about fell from my couch.

If you ever get the chance, go see Chuck Berry at Blueberry Hill. And if you get a bigger chance, go to West Africa. You’ll see and hear a lot that you know and love.

(For ambiance, at least, this is the best I can find right now. No Bo Diddley beat-- the gong-gong is playing a flat beat, and the dance is different. But it gives you something of the feel.)





This is getting closer. The dance looks like a "kinder, gentler" version of the Akebou dance, without the snapping, stamping intensity. But still not the beat I'm looking for on the gong-gong. Ah well. The wonders of youtube are many, but tonight I'm not finding it.

Golden Decade, Volumes 2 and 3

I’ve talked in the past about my first Chuck Berry collection, The Golden Decade. It was a helluva record (two records, actually). And for a while it was my only old stuff.

But then came Volumes 2 and 3. As I recall, they came one right after the other, sometime after the massive success of “The Chuck Berry London Sessions,” introducing me to a whole new set of great Chuck Berry records.  both have a bit of roughness to them, at least in parts-- stray guitar notes twanging insistently on a couple of songs-- but they have a freshness, too, like live recordings.

Volume 2 was sort of the “Rolling Stones’” collection, with “Carol” and “Little Queenie.” Or maybe “The Christmas Collection,” with “Run Rudolph Run” and “Merry Christmas Baby.” This collection was somehow rougher edged Chuck Berry, with more reverb and a bit less polish. Except for a couple songs. “You Never Can Tell” and “No Money Down” were as intricate and poetic as anything on the first volume, and should have been included there for sure, along with “Carol.” But the others were somehow, to me, wilder and rougher. “Let it Rock” is a grown up work song.

In The Heat Of The Day Down In Mobile,Alabama
Working on the railroad with the steel driving hammer
Gotta make some money to buy some brand new shoes
Tryin' to find somebody to take away these blues
She don't love me, hear ‘em singing in the sun
Payday's coming and my work is all done

It’s a strange song, but seems to me to be a favorite of Chuck Berry, who plays it live a lot. What’s strange is the story—a train comes and they have to scatter.

Everybody's scrambling, running around
Picking up their money, tearing the teepee down
Foreman wants to panic, 'bout to go insane
Trying to get the workers out the way of the train
Engineer blows the whistle loud and long
Can't stop the train, gotta let it roll on

This isn’t "Johhny B. Goode." No one’s going to make a motion picture. No  one's name's gonna be in lights.  Their names are gonna be on a tombstone if they don't hurry.  It’s a song about work, motion and an unstoppable force.

Another wild one is "Promised Land"—same sort of motion, but this time across the continent by bus, train and plane to California. The song starts with an abbreviation of the Carl Hogan intro and just steamrolls—the only break being a T-bone stake a la carte(y) up in the airplane. (AT least two other Chuck Berry songs look down from airplanes—“Brown Eyed Handsome Man” and “Oh Louisiana” are a couple I can think of.) I think of “Promised Land” as one of Chuck Berry’s veiled civil rights numbers, with its mention of bus breakdowns in Alabama, and a quick shot through Mississippi. Not that Houston was probably a whole lot safer for the poor boy if he hadn’t had friends there.

“Little Queenie” was always a favorite. It’s the shy Chuck Berry hero, mostly watching and thinking.

There she is again standing over by the record machine
Looking like a model on the cover of a magazine
She’s too cute to be a minute over seventeen

I don’t know who Chuck Berry saw when he wrote it, or who Mick Jagger saw when he sang it, but I know who I saw when I heard it, and who I still see about 35 years later, and she was cuter than sin itself. It’s a great song, funny, with Chuck Berry’s incredible comic timing. “Meanwhile, I was stilllllll thinking…” (I was a kid who thought wayyyy to much at age 17.)

If I had been choosing, some of these songs would have made it onto volume one. I’d have relegated “Too Pooped to Pop” and “Anthony Boy” to later volumes and swapped in “No Money Down” and “You Never Can Tell.” And I would have squeezed in “Carol” somehow or another. But that’s okay. When you’re as good as our man, there’s always something more out there—and it was a treat to be introduced to it back in 1973 or thereabouts.

I used to laugh at “Together We Will Always Be” which sounded tentative and—well—bad. But I slowed down my turntable and learned to like it better. See my (perhaps whacky) analysis here.

And then comes Volume 3—a whole new kettle of fish, funky, with a little bit more blues. My favorites on Volume 3 were songs Berry didn’t even write— the sentimental “Time Was,” a song originally recorded by Jimmy Dorsey, and the wonderful “House of Blue Lights.”

Time was when we had fun
On the school yard swings
When we exchanged graduation rings
One lovely yesterday.
Time was when we wrote
Love letters in the sand
Or lingered over our "coffee and";
Dreaming the time away.

It is no surprise that Chuck Berry thought a song about school yard swings and graduation rings was a perfect fit. I wouldn’t be surprised if this song didn’t give him ideas. He probably knew it in high school, and it fits his oft repeated assertion that his songs were written on purpose to appeal to a large, crossover audience. (He was, I guess, one of the original Michael Jacksons. When Michael died everyone was repeating the media mantra that he was the “first” crossover artist. They were forgetting single namers like Chuck, Louis, Nat, Ray, B.B., Otis, Fats, Jimi, Sly and probably a dozen others who did it a long long time ago. Oh yeah—how about groups like The Temptations, The OJays, The Supremes. Lordy! Such revisionism!)

I liked the cover art of Volume 3, which showed Chuck as a filling station sign, and hearkened back to one of my favorite Chuck Berry lines ("dollar gas!"). Volume 2 showed hm reflected in a Coke glass and didn't quite do it for me-- except that all that expensive cover art showed a committment from Chess to sell the guy.  But the inside of Volume 2 had a great discography that I checked off with my ballpoint pen, and a blue-tinted photo of the smiling Chuck Berry that I wanted to adopt me (when I was 16 years old!). Volume 3 has lots of information about the musicians and recording dates—something no one bothered with on Volume 1.

Of course, all of these are somewhat irrelevant now, with the two four disk sets that contain every recording from Chess on them.  But these three disks were sure important to me at the time.

Founding Fathers

It’s not an original thing to say that America’s music is one of its biggest gifts to the world—but it’s a true thing that bears repeating. Blues, Jazz, Gospel, Country, Rock and Roll, R & B, Soul, Funk, Rap.

It’s a gift that keeps on giving, ain’t it?

And it comes from our diversity. Look at the list: the only music that didn’t start in the African American community is Country-- but even so, modern country music is drenched in the blues.

It is the mixing and matching that make the music so wonderful. Chuck Berry writes a “hillbilly” tune. Elvis and Carl Perkins sing R & B. Ray Charles brings gospel into pop music. John Coltrane plays a song from The Sound of Music. Miles Davis plays Michael Jackson. Otis sings the “Tennessee Waltz.” Sly Stone yodels like Jimmy Rodgers. Bob Dylan channels Muddy. The rappers sample them all.

There is a lot we can be proud of. (The Constituion. The Declaration. Our old movies.) There's a lot we should NOT be proud of. (Torture.  Slavery.  Vietnam.  Iraq.  Tax breaks for the wealthy.)

But our music-- that's one of our great legacies. It thrills me.  It thrills the world.  (I should add, paranthetically, that the world's music thrills me, too.  I spent a decade of my life drenched in African highlife and soukous and Jamaican reggae, and I've been thrilled by music from everywhere from Tibet to Bulgaria to Mexico.  We have no monopoly.  We just have what we have-- and it's great.)

And I have no hesitation putting Chuck Berry up there with the greatest contributors to American history-- up there with Washington, Jefferson and Franklin-- as one of the greatest Americans. (I put Lincoln and King a step higher. They are untouchable.) His contribution is different; he didn't write a constitution. But he wrote songs that set us free, in a lot of ways, a ringing gift to the world that will be felt forever.

And for me, personally, an entry into something bigger, huge and good, almost eternal.  I can only comprehend a tiny smidgen of it-- but Chuck Berry got me started near the foundations, with good instructions on how to find even more.

Here's "Waiting for a Train" from the Father of Country Music (and a direct influence on the king of modern funk, Sly Stone! Lordy!)



(And did I say that Sly Stone yodeled like Jimmie Rodgers?)

This Kid Gets Around! (Go Jarred, Go!) (From Doug)

Calaboose, Some Perfume, and de Basil Beans

I finally looked up “calaboose,” as in:

“Riding along in my calaboose. Still trying to get her belt unloose.”

The online dictionaries say it’s a southern or creole term for jail. I wasn’t completely satisfied so I went and looked at the big old dictionary my mother left me, and it says pretty much the same thing, a slang term for jail or prison, from the Spanish “calabozo” for “dungeon.”

Lots of you probably knew that. Chuck Berry obviously did.

Poets are like that—collecting interesting words and filing them away until they become ripe enough to express some powerful sentiment.

As it turns out, there's an old Missouri Calaboose just northwest of St. Louis in the town of Elsberry.  That's a picture of it there on this page somewhere!

And it makes sense—because he’s stuck and going nowhere until he gets that buckle off.

// // //

The lyrics online, even though they are often suspect or just flat wrong, have become invaluable to me. For example, one of my favorite songs is “Tulane.” But what was she supposed to say she swallowed? I always hear “tell him you swallowed cycle fuel,” (pronounced like “pickle”), but I always knew that couldn’t be right. The online lyric sites tell me it’s “some perfume.” That makes sense. Still can't hear it, though.  (I've never heard "motorvatin'" either.  I still hear, and prefer, "motivatin'."

Or “You Can’t Catch Me.” For 35 years this is what I heard.

I bought a brand-new air-mobile

It was custom-made, 'twas a lightning vehicle (wrong!)

With a pow'ful motor and some highway (wrong!) wings

Push in on the button and you can hear her sing

Oh you can’t catch me!

If there is a single person in the world who is as confused as I was, (and I doubt there is) the airmobile is a “Flight DeVille” and the wings are “hideaway” models. What’s funny is that I always knew my version had to be wrong. What the hell is a “lightning vehicle?”

// // //

But I’m not alone. One reader of this site thought Chuck caught “a rollin’ off a writer” while sitting down at the rhythm reviews. Makes as much sense as a lightning vehicle!

// // //

I still wonder what sort of bean is mentioned in “Oh Louisiana!” It’s usually put down as “basin beans” on line. I haven’t found that term on google. I personally hear “basil bean” and there are references to “basil bean salad” all over the internet.

Who knows? I’m the guy who hears “cycle fuel” and “lightnin' vehicle.” Maybe it isn’t a bean at all.

But anyway, just in case it is basil bean (salad???  hell no!) here's one way to make it!

It's Becoming a Tradition: New Years at B.B. King's

Read about it HERE.

Summing it Up: Gibson's Top Ten Revolutionaries!

Talk about putting it in a nutshell!


"Did anybody combine country and western with R&B better than Charles Edward Berry? Did anybody marry rhythm and beat with lyrics of such wit and imagery, better than Charles Edward Berry? Did anybody develop a trademark guitar style that would be the staple of every garage band for the next 50 years? Did anybody write better rock numbers than “Memphis, Tennessee,” “Johnny B. Goode,” “Sweet Little Sixteen,” “Rock and Roll Music” and “Roll Over Beethoven”? Could any other rock and roll legend show up minutes before a gig confident that the local pick-up band and would know all his material inside out and backwards? Are any other rock and roll legends in their 80s who still perform on a regular basis (as Berry does monthly at the Blueberry Hill bar in his hometown of St. Louis)? Think about it. Others came along, others played their part in music history, but Chuck Berry is, and always will be, rock and roll." – Andrew Vaughan.  See the rest of them HERE

A Random Encounter re a Random Encounter

You know Chuck Berry's always been out there doing his thing, going where he wants to go, without the entourage.  I've always thought it would be cool to bump into him.  Here's a great little story by a very litterate boxing writer who knows a lot about our hero: http://ringsidereport.com/?p=5995

Christmas

The song "Christmas" appears on the album "Back Home."  It mixes three important Chuck Bery themes-- nostalgia, aloneness, and the attempted seduction.  And one he got from Muddy Waters-- the long distance call.

If I could only have an hour
Of this holiday with you
We could sit and rap together
Spinning records old and new
Have a little cake and a bit o' coke now
And do the things we used to do

Jingle bells will all be ringing
And little kids' eyes all aglow
Children strolling, singing carols,
Makin' tracks out in the snow
Oh, but I'll be with you this Christmas,
Maybe yes and maybe no

Christmas time is really joyful
Oh, but it's a lonely season, too
Many people are so cheerful
And some are alone and blue
It would make my Christmas happy
If I could have it all alone with you

But if I just can't be with you,
Let me call you on the phone
I wanna tell you I still love you
And how it feels to be alone
Wanna wish you a merry Christmas
As the old year passes on.

Otis

Ray Charles Can Do A Song Justice

Trying to Get Into the Mood

Charles Brown - Merry Christmas Baby
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When it's THIS Good He Ain't EVER too Old (A "Review" of Chuck Berry's 84th Birthday Show at the Pageant on October 16, 2010)

St. Louis, October 16, 2010

Chuck Berry turns 84 on Monday, but tonight, in St. Louis, he turned 40.

You could see it and hear it in the very first notes, in the perfect intros, in the old Chuck Berry riffs, played perfectly by a grinning, happy, Chuck Berry.

It was beautiful.

His guitar was ringing like a bell (most of time!).  His singing voice was young, wry and full of humor. He scooted 2 and 1/2 times (the 1/2 to get his grandson going!)  He shook his shoulders, showed us his shoes (twice!), played from his shoulder, strummed, and thumped and and picked like a MF.

I feel like the luckiest guy in the world-- except that there was a full house of lucky folk, and a very happy time was had by all.

There is something outlandishly wonderful about these St. Louis shows-- Chuck Berry on stage in the city he so evidently loves, surrounded by band members he's played with for years (and whom he so evidently loves), surrounded by family on stage and off.  A huge contingent of Berrys sat to my right, including his wife Themetta, and four of them worked the stage.  Darlin' Ingrid Clay Berry played harp and sang; Charles II played guitar, and Charles III played guitar right beside him-- until he was coaxed by granddad into doing the scoot!  And Charles Edward Anderson Berry played and sang and moved like he was at his own 40th birthday party.

Somewhere, someone out there has good photographs of this show.  Send them to me!  In the meantime I'll do what I can with what I've got from my crappy little camera and my pathetic camera skills.

As for a description, what can I say?  Chuck Berry (forever young) turned younger still tonight in St. Louis.  He was feeling his oats.  He played old, familiar licks on that beautiful, scratched up, taped up, wine red Gibson, and pulled out a couple of tidbits I've never heard live.  And he sang, with an incredible, young voice.  (It's a benefit of his later years, with less touring, and less day to day wear and tear on his voice.  But tonight was special.  Tonight the melodies returned full force.

The band-- as usual, they were great.  Chuck kept returning to Bob Lohr and encouraging him to do his thing on keyboards.  Keith Robinson and Jim Marsala held the beat, which never faltered.  Charles II and Charles III wailed when asked, and held down the fort the rest of the time.  And Ingrid was spectacular.  (I've heard her on records for decades, and seen her on film and video, but never live.  Glad I finally got the chance.)  My brother, who loves dance, came to the show and was talking afterwords about how Ingrid and Chuck know how to move.  And isn't that part of it?  Even when he's just walking on stage Chuck Berry does it with such charisma and grace that you can't stop looking.  And Ingrid?  When she bends down in those black leather pants, or leans back and blows-- well, you can't stop looking at that, either.  What a family.

There was a special moment when Ingrid had crossed the stage and looked up to her dad at the end of a solo.  He locked eyes with her and mouthed the words "I love you."

The men got a more boyish nod.  "See that boy over there on the right, playing guitar?  That's Charles Berry!  And see that bald-headed guy playing guitar right next to him?  That's also Charles Berry!"

He started with "Roll Over Beethoven," doing a perfect introduction on the guitar and nailing every riff he played.  Then he chugged straight into the chords of "School Day," taking special relish from the "slot" line.  Then "Memphis."  When he started "Carol" he must not have liked the first few notes, so he stopped and started again and (no surprise tonight) nailed it again-- and then started doing what Mr. Richards thought impossible 24 years ago, playing lead and rhythm and singing like it was about 24 years ago.

(Do I sound surprised?  I guess in a sense I am.  The last time I saw him, at Blueberry Hill, he put on a great show, with a lot of great rhythm guitar and beautiful singing-- but his fingers weren't really finding the notes on lead.  And the reviews from Phoenix weren't especially kind.  [Of course, Arizona is earning a reputation as the unkindest state.]  But tonight, for most of the show, he couldn't miss, and he clearly knew it.)

(I'm only guessing here, but I think he could hear himself tonight, which might make all the difference.  The sound at The Pageant is good.  And the band seemed restrained-- holding back just a bit on volume so the man at the front could hear what he was doing.)

Meanwhile, during "Carol," he started thinking ("I do that sometimes!") and it became "Little Queenie" for a bit.  Then back to Carol, thumping on the strings like a drum.  There was a moment he was singing "oh" to the girl so plaintively you thought he might cry!

He began "Wee Wee Hours" with the patented intro you might hear on "I've Got a Booking" then took us all to blues school.  I love Chuck Berry's rock and roll, but I probably love his blues even more.  The first time I pushed open a door to see the man live 40 years ago he was singing blues to a half filled auditorium, bending notes in his own way, and tonight he did it on "Wee Wee Hours" and another blues song I didn't recognize, sharing both with Ingrid on harp.  At a couple of points during the blues numbers he began doing a rhythm riff-- a 12 note arpeggio from an old blues that I'll identify later (It'll come to me!).  Anyway, another rabbit from the hat.

He responded to a request with "Nadine," (were you there?), chugging away at its complicated rhythm riff; he played "Rock and Roll Music," giving a special lyrical mouth twisting to the lines about modern jazz, and ending with a powerful cha cha cha of chords.  He played "Let it Rock," which must be one of his favorites.  He played a verse of the one about "Baja California" and the senorita.  (He forgot the words.  I forget the title!  Ah well.) (La Juanda!)

He finished with "Reelin' and Rockin'," which didn't last till the break of dawn, but kept going for about the closest thing to an encore that I've seen Chuck Berry do, when he got most of the way off stage, then came back to sit on the drum riser and play a while longer.  And then a bit of "House Lights," and he left.

Which was enough.

But I got lucky.  After the show I got a chance to meet my hero for a couple minutes in the dressing room, and give him some small gifts.  I babbled and gushed, told him what I thought of him, (which is some pretty good things), and thanked him as best I can for what he's done for me and all of us.  I shook his hand, and touched his shoulder, and he bumped my forearm.  I gave him the picture I drew of him when I was 17 off the Bio cover.  I gave him Doug's photo of him kneeling and playing.  I gave him printouts of interviews from some people who love him, like Judy, Karen, Bob, Bob and Daryl.  It's something I'll never forget.  Special thanks to Bob Lohr and Jim Marsala for that one.

Someday I'll find words.  Tonight?  Just reporting.  And feeling like my cross-continental journey was well worth it.  And it's just starting!  Wednesday?   Blueberry Hill!

Was a Brown Eyed Handsome Man!

Check it out: Lou Brock, Darryl Strawberry, and another Berry helping out the Albert Pujols Family Foundation.

A Rare Sight (for Me)

I asked on www.chuckberry.com if he'd ever been seen in public playing an acoustic.  And today I stumbled into this shot on www.chuckberry.de.  (Got to say, he doesn't look comfortable!)

More from Bob Lohr: a Film by Gail Mooney

Actually, from Gail Mooney via Bob Lohr.  Here's the trailer that Bob cites in his comment below.  http://vimeo.com/6703028.  Can't wait to see the whole thing.  Right up front you'll see Willie Smith and Bob Stroger, who I just saw at Jazz Alley last winter.  Pinetop Perkins comes later.  Sam Carr, Little Milton, Robert Lockwood, Jr. and others all speak.  Got to see / hear the movie itself.  Got to contact the movie maker!