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That’s Owen on the left and Marlone on the right. They were the gracious hosts for The IP’s visit to Huntsville. A special shout-out to Owen’s mom for hosting Christmas breakfast. Good God Almighty! Grits, bisquits, eggs, coffee, ambrosia, sausage & bacon (yes, tomitron), and a pond full of noisy Canadian Geese (we didn’t eat them, yet).
On Christmas Day, The IP drove around his former stomping grounds in Huntsville, and came upon a spanking new park. The IP can’t say enough how cool he thinks this new park is. Most cities totally ignore the potential of the space near and under their highway and railroad infrastructure, but not Huntsville.
The paths wind their way around and under the giant tectonic forms of I565 and next to the Norfolk Southern main line. It’s an unabashedly urban park that takes advantage of the man-made and traditionally “ugly.” Not at all ugly to The IP.
Usually the lair of bums and miscreants (ok, people down on their luck), this urban space is now open for all to enjoy. Why can’t Atlanta do this? Look at that awesome highway overpass. Brilliant!
The IP had a total “WTF?” moment when he looked acrost the RR tracks and saw…A SKATEBOARD PARK!! How smart is that? Teenagers need a place to call their own, and this place provides both a place to skate and to hang. These kids were having a fun Christmas indeed.
Even one of Huntsville’s ubiquitous drainage canals becomes a visual and spatial element in this urban park. The IP just kept wanting to thank who or whom came up with the design concept. The IP used to spend countless hours hanging out in those canals with his friend Mark Donovan (where is he now?).
The IP was gonna take a few air shots of some skaters, but some 20-something hipster was already doing that, so he let him have his space; maybe he worked for Thrasher?
Such a park saves a lot of wear and tear on the structural elements that skaters would otherwise use, like the buildings and benches and railings of private owners. Such a simple sollution for everybody. The IP wishes he had such a place to skate when he was a youth. I’m sure Kenneth Buttercup remembers skating in that empty in-ground pool of that house under construction. With this economic downturn, it’s a skaters’ gold rush out in Cali!
And don’t you think parents probably see this place as a blessing? There was not a parent in sight when The IP was here. Better for the parents and the kids. The former know where their kid is and the latter can hang with their friends without hassle. Brilliant! And look at that overpass!!
And then The IP turns his head and is struck by the anachronistic landscape of the the nearby neighborhood. Huntsville is like that. Some call it “high-tech-redneck.” Whatever you call it, Huntsville remains, at least for now, a curious amalgam of the old and new.
Oh. BTW, there is a dog park there too. A BIG shout-out to Huntsville’s planners.
The IP snagged some pretty sweet thrift store LPs while in H’ville. He’ll share those with you in his next post.
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Hey all you pithecanthopes! The IP is goin’ to Alabama for Christmas. He’ll blog at ya before the New Year.
In the meantime, check out Art Van Damme on the youtube. The IP is doing his research before he interviews Dennis Houlihan of Roland U.S. For the last week it has been all about accordions.
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Most of you pithecanthopes have, at least once, had that embarrassing and depressing experience of turning the key to start your car and instead of the intended chugging and roar of the engine coming to life, you hear a pitiful “click click” with no concomitant engine sound. “You couldn’t have left the headlights on, could you?” As it turns out, you did.
On his trip to London, The IP decided to leave his car at home and take the bus to the MARTA station. When he returned to The ATL on a Friday night, it would be a short walk home with his luggage and an immediate trip in his awaiting car to the grocery store to restock his supply of comestibles; except the car was dead. What a drag.
The first place The IP thought of to take care of the problem was that cluster of metal sheds and cars at the corner of Tobey and Clairmont. It was just a short walk up the street. He could get them to drive down and give him a jumpstart. Right?
Well, The IP put his plan to the test on Saturday morning. When he arrived at the entry gate of Venus Auto Repair (that is spray-painted on a piece of plywood leaning against an old chair that they put out near the street) he had to admit it was a real mess of a place; but an orderly mess. Some might say it had a real “Don’t go to a place like that” look, but one thing The IP noticed was that there was ALWAYS a bunch of cars they were working on in the garage itself, and lots of cars awaiting repair in the lot. So, The IP cast his fate to the auto repair wind and walked into the otherworldly dirt & gravel parking lot of Venus Auto Repair.
Rather than meeting a naked, red-haired Caucasian woman in a clamshell, The IP met Juan Garcia and Miguel Gomez. They spoke enough English and The IP had enough token Spanish to communicate. Once The IP told them “Muy juntos! Muy juntos!” Juan immediately grabbed a homemade charger kit we drove a block-and-a-half down the street to The IP’s dead car. 40 seconds after arrival, VROOM! The IP was back in business. The IP hates to be sexist, but he just doesn’t think that Venus in the clamshell would have a charger kit.
Here is Hispanic Auto Corner, workplace of Juan Garcia and Miguel Gomez, the two friendly mechanics that operate Venus Auto Repair. Kinda looks like a slice of East Los Angeles.
How much? The IP looked at Juan but no price was forthcoming. The IP said “Veinte? Veinte OK?” Juan nodded, took the $20, and after a firm handshake and a smile, he piloted his way back to Venus.
The IP felt very lucky to be able to go to Venus; and in the back of his mind he thought “I might have to go back to Venus someday.” Little did he know how soon that would be.
About two weeks later, The IP found himself in a rather desperate situation when his car inexplicably started overheating (or so he thought). It wasn’t one of those classic steam-spurting from under the hood things, but the engine temperature gage was redlining only after about 2 minutes of driving, so The IP had no choice but to go to back to Venus; he just hoped he could make it there before his engine conked out. Luckily, he landed safely again in their parking lot. The IP got out of his car. He noticed how he left a footprint in the sandy soil. He thought to himself “That’s one small step…” OK enough of that.
It took Juan and Miguel some diagnostic work and a few test drives, but The IP again had his car back the same day. This job cost more, but he saw the invoice for the air flow regulator and felt no pain in paying the bill. The IP got into his car and blasted off for home a satisfied customer.
Then just this past Friday after work, a day after The IP put air into his front right front tire because it was unusually low for some reason, he arrived at his car in the MARTA parking lot to find he had a big flat tire. This time it was a classic “jack it up yourself and put on that stupid mini-tire in the trunk.” The IP discovered a screw in the flat tire. It caused one of those “slow leaks” that can fool you if don’t pay attention.
Because The IP’s orbit is so close to Venus, he stopped by there on his way home from MARTA. “Hola mis amigos! Que pasa?” The IP dropped the tire off and told the smiling Miguel that he would pick it up the next day. And that is exactly what he did. And again, The IP departed Venus with a good feeling. Feliz Navidad indeed!
Miguel Gomez puts The IP's Plugged Tire Back Onto His Car. How much, you ask? $5.00. When was the last time you got ANY auto repair service for $5.00? The IP gave Miguel a ten-spot and said "Feliz Navidad.
OK you pithecanthropes. Give The IP a personal story about a dead battery or flat tire. He knows you all have one.
Check out this mint ride. Extra points to the pithecanthrope who can name the make and model. When The IP saw this car, he had a real WTF! moment. If Juan and Miguel can fix this car, they can fix anything.
Blog at ya later! And MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
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That’s right, The IP suffering from Too Much Christmas Crap Syndrome (TMCCS). What’s worse, a lot of his Christmas fatigue was self-induced. For instance, The IP didn’t HAVE to watch both Miracle on 34th Street AND It’s a Wonderful Life, within a weekend, but he did. And he didn’t HAVE to put up blue Christmas lights under his soffits, but he did:
And he certainly didn’t have to pick up the two dudes below at a yard sale, but he did (jeez, that sounds queer):
Seriously, about the only “hooking up” The IP did with these dudes was to rig an electrical connection from the front porch light socket to make them work. WTF? Why did The IP do this? Does he really care about the Emory joggers and the young-couple power strollers, or the landscrapers and junk collectors enough to put up an illuminated Kris Kringle and Frosty T. Snowman?
And on Monday (don’t ask) The IP and his fellow Employees Association Board members, along with some help from Association members, pulled off our annual “Holiday Luncheon.” We had about 100 people. It was all about putting up Christmas decorations and lights, making sure there was enough food, and making sure the folks had some music to listen to and some nice slide show to watch. Special shout outs to all the folks that helped.
Really, The IP doesn’t want to be a Scrooge, but for the last two weekx, he’s been watching, listening to, arranging, and thinking about Christmas Crap!! WTF? The IP now hears bells, and chimes, and tuned sleigh bells, and Swiss hand bells, and carillons, and music boxes, in his head! And he sees Christmas trees, and snow scenes, and Santa Claus, and kids in the snow, and freakin’ every God-damned (that’s right!) Christmas image ever construed. And he’s heard every sound, seen every still and moving image, and assembled every damn Christmas decoration scheme imaginable! The IP is Christmassed-out! And it’s only the 16th! Oh noooooooooooooooooo!
Ahhh jeez, TMCCS ain’t all that bad. And The IP wouldn’t have bought those goofy plastic friends if he didn’t think they would look cool when all lit up (and yes, a bit tacky too).
And although The IP has major issues with some of the philosophy expressed in MoTFS and IaWL, they remain iconic examples of American film. Why else would he have watched them?
Yet, just as a token example of how one can sometimes feel with TMCCS, here’s a great sonic nugget from the library of The IP’s friend Mike Osiris. Special prize for the pithecanthrope who can identify the guy who is singing along with Miles Davis:
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For every death of a salesman, there is a birth of the same. And for every failure of a salesman, there is a success (Sorry. The IP is writing one of those corporate success/leadership books, so forgive that first practice sentence).
But seriously, pithecanthropes, The IP feels compelled to relate a recent human connection he made by asking the simple question: “Where is Dennis Houlihan Today?” “Who is Dennis Houlihan?” you ask? Let The IP explain.
An Otherwise Inaucuous, Nowheresville LP Became A Fascination
The IP's Subject, Dennis Houlihan, on The Back of His LoVe SToRy LP Recorded For Lowrey Organ
The IP was struck by the level of precision and skill Houlihan demonstrated with the Lowrey Concert Custom Console, but he never really thought to think much about the Houlihan the man other than to play his LP now and again, and to marvel at his cool visage behind the keyboard on the back cover.
That is until this past weekend when The IP came upon the LP again while picking through his collection. Al Gore had not yet invented the Intarwebs when The IP picked up Houlihan’s Lowrey triumph, so he figured he’d at least give him the benefit of a “google.” Don’t all obscure organ salesmusicians deserve at least a google search?
It didn’t take long to find a press release that mentioned a Dennis Houlihan becoming the only American on the Board of Directors for the Japanese Roland Corporation. Then he found another Web announcement that mentioned how Dennis Houlihan had become the chairman of the National Association of Musical Merchants.
It suddenly all made sense. That young guy playing the Lowrey organ on that thrift store LP had really gone on to great success doing what he always had loved, namely, making and promoting music.
Dennis Houlihan (left) With The Japanese Founder of Roland Inc.
Again, Roland Corp. and its American subsidiary, Roland US., is not some dinky little company. That Houlihan rose to become Roland US. President and CEO struck The IP as both appropriate and personally satisfying.
The IP actually called Roland Corp this week and used their automated directory to ring Mr. Houlihan. He answered on the second ring and we talked for 35 minutes about his 17 years with Lowrey, his work in developing electronic instruments, and, of course, that organ demo LP with his Buddy Holly-like image on the back.*
We also talked about Roland’s new line of digital accordions. Now, before you pithecanthropes start throwing junk at the stage like when Dylan went electric, you should watch this video demonstration (click on VIDEO and choose V-Accordion NAMM Booth Demo). It took The IP some time to warm up to the instrument, but by the time he reached the end of the demo, he appreciated the newest genneration of accordion.
* Dennis Houlihan was one of the most gracious, open, funny, and genuine guys (let alone a CEO of a billion-a-year company) one could imagine. That must be because he loves music.
Spooky Classics IV Spook The IP
For some inexplicable reason this past week at work, The IP began humming and singing Classics IV’s Traces, you know the song; it goes like this:
Faded photographs, covered now with lines and creases
Tickets torn in half, memories in bits and pieces
Traces of love, long ago, that didn’t work out right
Traces of love
The IP hums that song now and again, mostly when he actually sees a ticket stub or a faded photograph. He must have seen a ticket stub or photograph in his cubicle and started singing.
But the very next day, he read about the lead singer’s death in the NYT.
WTF? Why is The IP being haunted by Dennis Yost of The Classics IV?
The IP has always liked The Classics IV. They had a sound all their own.
Take a listen to one of the IP’s favorites from that band:
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Say it ain't Solo!!
Solo Cup just laid off 100 workers? That venerable supplier of keg-party cups? Those ubiquitous red, blue, and yellow 12-14 oz plastic party cups? How can this be?
If ever there was a good barometer for the spiritual health of America, it would be the sale and use (can’t have one without the other), and carefree disposal of Solo-brand plastic and paper, and coated paper cups.
That Solo Cup Company had to lay off 100 workers means that many Americans are not living up to their partying obligations. C’mon you college kids! WTF? Why are you having fewer keggers? What’s with the decline in beer-pong? This is Christmas Party season, and The IP sure hopes people don’t forget that Christmastime means lots of parties, lots of drinking of beverages, and the use of LOTS of Solo-brand cups!!
Good times require games of Beer-Pong, quarters, and parties with lots of beer, wine, tequila, gin, tonic water, soda, and ice, which all requires lots of Solo-brand plastic cups!! There is hardly an American ANYWHERE that has not, at least once, held a plastic Solo-brand cup in his hand. How many foreign exchange students experienced their first REAL American keg party without holding a Solo-brand cup? Maybe two?
Solo-brand cups are even MORE American than baseball or apple pie. When you go to a party or a game, you want BEER!!! You don’t want apple pie. And you want your beer in a red, blue, or yellow (preferably red) 12-14 oz Solo-brand plastic cup [Stock Number P1232] that you can just throw away after the party, or just get a new one because you forgot where you left that last beer you had. Was it at the bonfire or the keg-stand contest? Whatever. Oh yeah, now you remember. You left it in the bathroom when you and Ted Clish decided to fucking piss exclusively in the fucking upstairs bathtub the whole night! You even closed the drain! What a fuckin’ riot!! When the Johnsons come home they’ll all be, like, “WTF? What’s all this yellow water in the bathtub?”
Who likes the Johnsons anyway? After all, we’re only here because it’s a kegger. Look at that little pussy Peter Johnson over there. You don’t care if he bought the beer, let’s go kick the shit out of him and that friggin weird exchange student too!!*
OK. Back to what The IP was sayin’. We’ve all been part of the Solo Cup experience. And it’s not just about those plastic party cups, either.
How about those single-use water cooler cups? You’ve seen those, the ones that can’t stand up except in promotional images like above.
Haven’t any of you pithecanthropes enoyed a bad cup of coffee at, say, a Midas Muffler waiting room or some wierd medical office, using a Cozy Cup holder and cup?
And who among us has not handled some salsa or dipping sauce or even cole slaw in a small Solo-brand container??
In times like these, now, more than, ever, Americans need to party and enjoy beverages in Solo-brand cups!
And you college kids (and you know who you are), fufill your obligations and have big, pre-Christmas Break dorm parties using lots of Solo-brand cups!
And all you middle-aged pithecanthropes need to find events and venues where Solo-brand cups can be used. Above is a perfect example!
And while you trim your trees, wrap your gifts, and enjoy many beverages in Solo-brand cups, think of the 100 or so Solo employees who will no longer be able to enter their workplace by actually going through a giant Solo cup.
*The pissing in the bathtub scenario above was NOT based on any real-life event of The IP. It was just an imaginary scenario based on real-life people The IP has met in the past, people The IP thinks could do something like that.
