Life in the NohoDome

Beat on the Brat with a Banjo

2012-01-29T15:22:00.003-05:00

My friend David sent me a message about the Carolina Chocolate Drops show at the Calvin Theatre in Northampton last night. "We really loved both bands -- your prompt to get there in time for Joy Kills Sorrow was good advice. I've still got banjos twangin' around in my head. Need an afternoon of the Ramones or something to put a stop to it." I told him that if he was pressed for time, and as short as Ramones songs are, there are equivalencies to take advantage of. For mental banjo cleansing, one serving of Motorhead's "Ace of Spades" packs the pluck purging power of the Ramones' "Beat on the Brat" and "I Wanna Be Sedated" combined. Neither of us have anything against banjos for the record. Why do I tell you this? Because after the exchange, I was walking through town and one of the street musicians was banging out "Beat on the Brat" ON A BANJO. Can I get a witness? Did anyone else see this guy outside of Faces? True story.

This obviously isn't the same guy I saw on the streets of Northampton playing The Ramones song "Beat on the Brat" on the banjo but it clearly captures the essence of the moment and Johnny Ramone's signature assault stance.

The original.

Strolling. Pointing. Shooting.

2012-01-21T18:47:00.006-05:00

Miracle at The Haymarket


Get The Led Out: The American Led Zeppelin plays the Calvin Theatre tonight (Saturday 1/21). Soundcheck was pretty great I have to say. I saw them do "Battle of Evermore" and the woman doing Sandy Denny's part was nailing it.

Yappy Road


Raven Books Rogue's Gallery

A primitive poet's perch. Sticks and Bricks store window on Market Street. Just up the street at The Roost, dozens loom over their laptops. Were the cafes of the past filled with people on their portable typewriters? Why not?

Still Life with Infinite Candle and Arabian Slippers at Zephyr Rugs on Main Street

Is this thing on?

Gordon Thorne painting at A.P.E.

R. Michelson Gallery

Haymarket downstairs

Haymarket upstairs

Market Street

Artist: Chris Gentes

Still Life With Left Ventricle

2012-01-10T16:55:00.003-05:00

The Antique Center of Northampton located at 9 1/2 Market Street is not one store but several dozen rented booths on two floors; the main floor and a basement. The more high-brow Stuart F. Solomon Antiques on the 2nd Floor is a separate business and seems to be open on a whim or by appointment. The Antique Center, on the other hand, is everything a fun vintage stuff store should be. The prices tend to be reasonable and the variety of vendors makes for some entertaining browsing even if you aren't in the market for ceramic penguins or outsider art nativity scenes.

A vintage iPhone. One app.

Decaying rubber Disney figurines. Donald seems to be faring the best. But what of Walt? In the decades since Walt Disney's death, the claim that he arranged for his body to be frozen has become ubiquitous. Nearly everyone has heard the story that Disney's corpse is stored in a deep-freeze chamber somewhere -- directly under Disneyland's "Pirates of the Caribbean" attraction is the most frequently mentioned site -- awaiting the day when science can repair the damage to his body and bring 'Uncle Walt' back to life.

No antique store worth its dust should ever be without at least one clown painting. The expert on clown paintings is Diane Keaton who also dabbles in acting. She curated a book on the subject in 2002.

Sometimes, overwhelmed by a shelf-load of "pieces" (in dealer parlance), I find myself in a timeless, frictionless plain, unsure where to focus and what to feel. Every piece has an aura that exudes its history and the energies of the people who came in contact with it. From conception to creation to market to possession to dispensation and back to market. Did someone keep it until death or was it yard saled out of their lives?

All these pieces, if one believes in destiny, ended up together here for a reason, each with a storied trail of adventure. Like the little wooden canoe toy in the children's book "Paddle to the Sea," each was an inanimate witness to a specific history.

History would be rather different written by a stumpy Easter Island-esque wooden figurine, wouldn't it? Oh the lies our teachers told us and the truths that these pieces could tell were they to talk. They all saw people, frequently tacky hoarders, with their guards down completely.

These novelty drink stirrers harken back to a time when racism and sexism were still fun.

A very early DVD and a yoga baby.

Ah, the plot thickens.

Fever dream

Still Life With Left Ventricle

Calendar nude with PMS? (see note)

Mishap at the doll factory or sadistic head-swapping brother?

Ancient instruments of culinary torture.

I offer no explanation, though I fear there may be one.

Who is the lucky heir to the duck string holder fortune?

These people are weighing a baby.

After the wise men departed, leaving their frankincense and myrrh, the big man finally showed up with the Wii.

Nohodome Is Back for 2012

2012-01-02T14:22:00.005-05:00

Eighty percent of success is showing up. This oft cited Woody Allen quote applies to blogging as much as anything. I hope to show up here at the Nohodome at least a few times a week henceforth. Welcome or welcome back. 2012 is a new garden to plant, a freshly erased chalk board, a new vacuum cleaner, a new pair of socks, an alphabetized bookshelf.

I got out of the Pioneer Valley only a few times in 2011, to Boston, Brattleboro, and Georgia, so my first hand exposure to reality has been somewhat finite geographically. Traveling brings experience into sharper focus and adds depth perception. Viewing the world solely from the vantage point of Northampton is like having one eye closed.

My theme for 2011, "first world problems," emerged after seeing a Louis CK bit on Conan. Not to dismiss the validity of any struggles that you or others may be dealing with, especially if you're unemployed, ill, or somehow not where you think you want to or ought to be. But especially in Northampton, life for most of us, while not luxurious, ain't so bad compared to many other places. The region is a veritable Shangri-La.

Green River Festival, July 2011

The trails behind Smith College make for a beautiful walk.


Naturalization ceremony for new immigrants to the U.S. on the Northampton courthouse lawn on July 4th, 2011.


Al Houghton changing the Calvin marquee. IHEG (where I work) presents over 600 live concerts a year at the Calvin Theatre, Pearl Street, The Iron Horse Music Hall, and the Basement in downtown Northampton and 10+ outdoor concerts at Mountain Park in Holyoke.

The Peace Pagoda in Leverett

The Greenhouses at Smith College

A new Tumblr site is dedicated to this notion. First World Problems. Example: “I can't get comfortable in bed even with 1000 thread-count sheets because one pillow positions my head too low and two pillows is too high."

Here is the clip from the now defunct Conan O'Brien show of Louis CK's "Everything's amazing and nobody's happy":

With the passing of George Carlin, I think Louis CK is the most visionary comedian out there. His TV series "Louie" is pushing the boundaries far beyond anyone else out there. Here's a (graphic and confrontational) clip about the origins of the word "fag." Louis always diffuses the tension and the shock with silliness and humor, but the lessons make it through.

Louie's Poker Scene from Louis CK

The Sleep Study

2011-08-05T10:39:00.012-04:00

I was convinced recently to submit to an overnight sleep study because of suspected sleep apnea and confirmed snoring. Two months later after a flurry of referrals and co-pays and screenings the night arrived. At 8PM I arrived at a medical building in Amherst, pressed the after hours buzzer, and was escorted by lab-coated 30-something Walt to a chilly mock-hotel room and left alone to strip to my "night clothes."

After filling out some forms I sized up the room. A queen sized bed had a grandmotherly quilt already turned down for my convenience. Several machines with dials and wires glowed and hummed on the night table next to a box of kleenex. A television was mounted on the wall. Just one painting hung on the wall with a Picasso-esque nude woman floating in abstract space, or maybe lying in a field, apparently sleeping, though the aerial perspective and her fetal yet sprawled position actually gave the impression that she had been gunned down from above by a helicopter. Pulling open the curtains on the window and raising the venetian blinds revealed bare wall. Was I already asleep and dreaming? Was this the Magritte Suite? I recalled the scene in Jim Jarmusch's film "Down By Law" in which Italian speaking Bob played by Roberto Benigni is in a jail cell with Zak and Jack (Tom Waits, John Lurie) and after drawing the outline of a window on the cell wall with chalk asks Zak, in his continuing effort to learn English, "Do you say in America you look out the window or at the window?'" Zak says, "Well Bob, in this case I guess you'd have to say you look at the window."

Somehow I would have preferred honesty in decor. I felt lied to. What else couldn't I trust them with?

Walt returned. I stood before him, tropical floral be-boxered and otherwise bare. There was an awkward silence as he sized me up. As if to respond for me, my body tingled in the cold air and goosebumps swept up my legs to my chest. Nipples stiffened. Scalp tightened. "So...," I said.

"It'll take about 45 minutes to wire you up. We like the bald guys. Goes quicker," he said, drawing lines and dots on my head with a marker and attaching cold sticky things.

I couldn't tell if he was a tech trained purely in the implementation of the overnight studies or if he was a degreed sleep scholar. I wondered, if you fell asleep in class at sleep school, could you just claim you were doing research?

There was a camera trained on the bed and a two way speaker so I could shout out, hands free, and be unplugged in case I had to use the bathroom. Walt implied that this was a hassle so I should go for all I was worth now. He explained what all the equipment was and what it would measure. They would monitor my heart, my breathing, my motion and position. I imagined asking "will you tally my erections?" I chuckled as I listened to how the words sounded in my head and he eyed me quizzically.

"So how long have you been doing this?" I asked. "Is this your passion? Your chosen field?"

"It is now I guess. I used to restore classic late '60s muscle cars but I got arthritis and a bad back and had to give it up."

I told him I used to drive a 1967 Firebird and a 1962 Mercury Monterey. As he attached electrodes with tape and glue, the time passed quickly peppered with chatter about Dusters and Chargers and Challengers and Camaros and Stingrays and Novas and Malibus and Mustangs and and Mavericks and Barracudas and even Javelins. He really missed working on cars.

"Well," I said, "now you're working on a 1963 Jim Neill. Truly a classic. A one of a kind production model. All original parts. No restoration. Actual miles."

"Okay then," he said, "Let's get you up on the lift."

I climbed into the bed and a microphone was taped to my throat to capture any speech or snoring. Walt left and a minute later his voice came over the speaker and we did a soundcheck. "Jim, give me a few snores." I did. I wondered if they were accurate. Convincing. "Okay, now say 'monk' five times." I did. "No," he said, 'MILK'." I thought he was joking but an expectant silence followed. I complied. "Okay. We're good," he said. "Go to sleep. We'll be in at 6 to wake you up. If you have more than 48 incidents in an hour, we will come in sooner. Sleep tight."

Incidents?

I lay there feeling like Dave in the bedroom scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey or Jason Robards in Magnolia. I hoped that this would be the only time I would ever be connected to wires and tubes in a bed.

I wondered about lightning strikes.

To be continued.

Jim Neill’s Jukebox - A weekly radio show on 93.9 WRSI The River- Wednesday nights 7-10pm- Recent Song Obsessions circa July 16, 2011

2011-07-16T11:35:00.000-04:00

Adam Faucett- “Saturday” and “T-Rex T-Shirt”
from More Like A Temple (Space Neck Collective)
(Adam plays The Basement on Friday August 19th)
Marissa Nadler- “The Sun Always Reminds Me Of You”
from her eponymous 5th album (Box of Cedar Records)
Active Child- “Hanging On” from You Are All I See (Vagrant out 8/23)
The Hundred in The Hands- “Pigeons” from epon. debut (Warp Records)
Eleanor Friedberger (of Fiery Furnaces)- “My Mistakes”
from Last Summer (Merge Records)
The Belle Brigade- “Losers” from eponymus debut (Warner Bros,)
The Civil Wars- “To Whom It May Concern”
from Barton Hollow (Sensibility Music)
Little Scream- “The Lamb” from The Golden Record (Secretly Canadian)
Foster The People- “Pumped Up Kicks” from Torches (Columbia)
Sea of Bees- “Gnomes” from Songs for the Ravens (Crossbill Records)
Buffalo Daugther- “A11 A10ne”
from Weapons of Math Destruction (label unknown)
tUnE-YarDs- “Bizness” from WHOKILL (4AD)
Joy Kills Sorrow- “When I Grow Up”
from Unknown Science (Signature Sounds out 9/13)
Motopony- “Euphoria” from eponynous debut (Insound)
Jed and Lucia - “The Park (Refix)” from Helium EP (Ubiquity Records)
High Highs- “Open Season” (Bandcamp only so far?)
Sun Airway- “Waiting On You”
from Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier (Dead Oceans)
Damon and Naomi- “Shadow Boxing”
from False Beats and True Hearts (20/20/20 Records)
Ages and Ages - “Alright You Restless”
from Alright You Restless (Knitting Factory)
Elbow- “Lippy Kids” from Buy A Rocket Boys (Downtown/Cooperative Music)
Death Cab For Cutie- “Underneath the Sycamore”
from Codes and Keys (Atlantic Records)
Cass McCombs- “County Line” from Wit’s End (Domino)
(Cass plays the Iron Horse on Tue. July 19th)

Click here for Jim Neill's Jukebox page on WRSI.com
email: dynablob@gmail.com

Epic Pancakes

2011-07-02T19:58:00.012-04:00

As with the word "awesome" in the late 20th century, the ever more ubiquitous "dude-bro" demographic, within the last decade, has commandeered and eviscerated the once sacrosanct term "epic." No longer is an epic merely the historical noun of choice for lengthy, heroic, poetic compositions like The Odyssey, The Iliad, and various Bibles which, before the advent of printing, offered historical and cultural continuity from one generation to the next via ritual re-tellings of the epics, narrated in the grandiose style befitting its lofty subject matter. No longer is epic in its adjective form limited to classifying these chronicles of great achievements and events, long wars and harrowing voyages so vast, heroic, majestic, and impressive in stature as to transfix and strike awe in the listener and allow them to forget, if only for a moment, the Black Death, slavery, and the notoriously ruthless medieval meter maids.

"Dude, I know these sirens are, like, sweet tail with epic racks and all, and, like, they sing mighty righteous tunes but they are some mad crazy ho's! Row, bro, row!"

Where once the epic narrative poem Beowulf would be told aloud, often from memory around medieval campfires, in modern times, specifically this morning at the Green Bean in Northampton, I overheard this exchange: "Bro, these are epic pancakes." "Dude, with maple syrup and bluebs they're mad epic." Indeed, in the ancient tradition of passing epic stories along to keep them alive, one of the apparently very satisfied diners fired off a text undoubtedly notifying another dude-bro from his posse of this very same superlative assessment of breakfast.

The English language is fluid. Meanings for words change all the time. (Though adding "ginormous" to the dictionary was irresponsible, redundant, and, well, cutesy.) But is there really so little in the imagination and dreams of some people that they have to rob those of us with grander schemes of the long established terminology? They're using a sledgehammer to drive a brad into balsa.

In the big picture, one hopes, but it certainly isn't assured, that the classic epic poems will continue to be integral to the class syllabi of our secondary school and college English programs, serving up in history's earliest recorded incidents, the original dudes and bros, virgins and of hos, to experience life's archetypal story arcs (also evidenced in most episodes of VH-1's Behind The Music): Life-Death-Rebirth. Or, if discussing over some tasty flapjacks; an epic win is usually followed by an epic fail and then a less epic (but still awesome in a mellower way) win, or in the most epic of fails, death i.e Andy Gibb, Odysseus, et al.

One of the earliest known examples of a member of the phylum Homeyus-Dudebroticus from approx. 1982, native to Southern California but now prospering nationwide.

Even ghosts have to feed the meters.

2011-07-02T19:00:00.002-04:00

Jaywalking (jayrunning) ghost races to beat the meter maid, confident that any traffic will pass right through her.

Downtown Northampton Sunday Afternoon

2011-06-26T16:31:00.020-04:00

Buskers in transit.

He is one of the sweetest and kindest guys out there but his version of Yellow Submarine, often heard in front of Thorne's Market, is exactly the same song as his take on Bob Seger's "Turn The Page"....or anything else he plays. Only the lyrics change. It's remarkable that he has absolutely no sense of time signatures or song structure and makes chord changes on a whim if at all. It is beautiful in an outsider art way, and yet he breaks my stride and triggers my heart murmur and my fillings hurt and sometimes I feel a vein twitch on my forehead.

Stevie Ga Ga in his Sunday best. "Can you get bagpipes on Freecycle?"

Josh and Roger making the donuts at Turn It Up!

King Crimson fans pay attention. The 2011 Two Of A Perfect Trio tour comes to the Iron Horse on Saturday, October 1st. The tour marks Adrian Belew’s and Tony Levin’s 30-year anniversary with King Crimson. Here’s how it will play out: Stick Men; Tony Levin, Markus Rueter, and Pat Mastelotto will play a set of their music. Then the Adrian Belew Power Trio; Adrian, Julie Slick, Tobias Ralph will play a set. Then Tony, Pat, and Adrian will play a few King Crimson songs as a trio. Then both trios will take the stage for a glorious set of King Crimson music including pieces from the double trio era, two drummers, two stick players, a bassist, and a guitarist. Here's the link to the Iron Horse schedule. You can scroll down to the date.

For some, letting it be is just not enough. Perhaps she's into composting?

Trashy novels weren't the only books marketed in the campy exploitation style of the pulp fiction paperback. Raven Books on Old South Street offers t-shirts sporting the pulp paperback covers of some classic novels.

But if you can't help being trashy, there's a sexuality section filled with intriguing titles including this spread from "The Art of Eric Stanton: For The Man Who Knows His Place."

Corner of King and Main. Cross at the sound of the cuckoo.

"People tend to stick to their own size group because it's easier on the neck. Unless they are romantically involved, in which case the size difference is sexy. It means: I am willing to go the distance for you." --Miranda July


The Silver Lady (by Suzanne Vega 1974- when she was 14) When I was a little girl Younger than nine or ten I once spoke to the Silver Lady But I never saw her again. To me she flew out of the sky She was born riding on the water Her hair blew all around her She was the crazy man's only daughter. (Lyrics continued here)

Spoleto's Independence Day window welcomes you to the restaurant with an explosion of patriotic lumber.

No Explanation

by James Tate

Down the street they are pulverizing the old police station. They started by crushing it, then they beat it, and then they proceeded to grind it up. I walked by it just a few minutes ago. All that's left is a mountain of wood chips...."Where are the policemen?" I asked one of the workers. He pointed to the mountain of wood chips and said, "We never saw them." I walked on thinking about Officer Plotkin, how he'd arrested me when I was guilty, and he he'd come to my aid when I'd needed him. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. I longed to be arrested, to be saved.

The Basement Porch

Downtown Northampton Saturday Morning

2011-06-25T17:23:00.000-04:00

When the "Dweezil Zappa Plays Zappa" show comes to town, Al is always prepared to create some improvised electric tape "Z's" on one side of the marquee. See if you can spot them when you walk by.

Good promotion never sleeps. Michael Kusek is making things happen on a Saturday morning in front of Silverscape Design.

The one man Tea Party bravely stands his ground in the belly of the progressive beast in his mirror shades. The big question, of course, is what is on his iPod? Ted Nugent? Eckhart Tollee? Regardless, under these circumstances his message is loud and clear and limited to: I don't want you to look into my eyes. I don't want to hear what you have to say. I don't want to talk to you.

Preaching to the converted. They should strap their iPods on and head to Springfield.

Adin and Llama are tying the knot this summer. It looks like Llama just tied one for practice. Is that a noose?

Carolyn vending grins and greenery at the Farmer's Market.

Candace, renowned photographer of this blog's masthead panorama, with the zukes.

The new police station will include an Olympic sized swimming pool so the officers can stay in optimum crime-fighting condition.

Laughing Dog Bicycles. John Dwork's Skateboard. Ni Carborundum Illegitimati.

2011-06-19T09:49:00.005-04:00

Parker Ramspott has owned and run Laughing Dog Bicycles in Amherst since the days when Henry Rollins was in Black Flag doing shouted word, not spoken, and downtown Amherst still had more of its own spark. In fact, I think it started as a skateboard shop; the punk rock answer to Doug Dale's shop Peloton. Yesterday, as I bought a bike from him, we bitched like the old men we used to make fun of about "kids today" while his 20-something employee Jessie affixed a basket to my new cruiser. Jessie quipped from the back, "if you two are so smart why are you so old?" He had a point.

Parker, who does his best to compete with bigger stores on Rt. 9 and elsewhere reported that Nat across the street at Amherst Books was getting online textbook orders from UMass Amherst students that wanted him to ship the books to their dorm, one mile away. Come on kids. Take a walk will ya? I hate to be overly sentimental but I'm a little bitter about the struggles of some of my favorite local "mom and pop" shops in the wake of the closing of Pleasant Street Video. Not that they deserve to prevail just because they're locally owned. In fact, with so much at stake you'd think some of the local stores would be a little nicer to their customers. I would have bought my bike in Northampton if the shop I visited recently even feigned some interest in helping me when I stated outright, "I am here to buy a bike today" and hung around for a while to wait my turn. And don't EVEN think that I am one of those cloying Valley types that wants a clerk to get up on their hind legs and bark for me to win my patronage. At Laughing Dog in Amherst, you don't have to beg.

Note the Latin above the logo: Ni Carborundum Illegitimati (roughly: Don't let the bastards grind you down.) Parker know his bikes and you can tell because he uses phrases like "your tires are a little roached, man." I bought a sweet Gary Fisher bike from him and rode back to Northampton on the ever more lethal and notorious bike path made of broken glass which, while certainly a sad and embarrassing state of affairs, generates a considerable amount of tire repair business for the local bike repair industry. Parker says a shard he pulled out of one tire bounced off his retina which, even more horrifically, made a clicking noise as it did so.

Okay, please gather around, be silently reverent, and behold:

No. Don't touch it. NO. Don't even look at it.

Hanging over the Laughing Dog door is an impossibly awesome golden age of skateboarding (Tony ALVA, not Hawk era) Sims Taperkick longboard with Tracker wides and OJs. It's like Action Comics #1 or Amazing Fantasy #15. And it belonged to the legendary John Dwork who most people know as "the dude who majored in Frisbee at Hampshire College" though of course there are no "majors" at Hampshire and the 1984 degree was technically called "Flying Disc Entertainment and Education." John was also the editor of the Deadhead bible Dupree's Diamond News (his more credible answer to Relix) and the author of the three-volume Deadheads Taping Compendium.

Parker always has some sonically joyous music blaring in the workshop and said I should check out some bands for my radio show: the Dirt Bombs who used to be The Gories and Soft Pack who used to be The Muslims. At our age, the bands we loved are already onto their second or third incarnations.

The Westerly Hauntings

2011-06-18T20:01:00.007-04:00

A couple of years ago the word "westerly" began chanting itself in my head. Like a random song, it got stuck there. (Though when those "random" songs get stuck, pay attention to the lyrics and you'll often find a reason why it stayed with you. Of course it might just be the insidious hooks of ABBA.) When I would write anything it would jump to the front of the line. "Westerly," it said. "Westerly westerly westerly! Westerly." I didn't think too much of it. My mind is of the monkey variety and is on an endless Wonka boat ride; in a perpetual state of shuffling cards and whirling compasses. It's a windstorm of words and images and ideas in a sort of maniacal spin-art that occasionally comes together at just the right moment and allows me to utter something practical like "hold the mayo" or "Happy Birthday!" I am also able to do my own taxes and laundry. Beyond that sometimes I think it's a miracle I've made it this far. Maybe I haven't.

I curated a poetry reading at Forbes Library a few years ago and created a limited edition chap book with a selection of the five poets' poems and, indulgently, some of my collages. I made 26 of them out of road maps I'd picked up at a tag sale,"numbering" each with a letter of the alphabet on a field of red Holden Trading Stamps (not as popular as the S & H Green Stamps many of us may recall our moms collecting in that endless lick-and-affix-a-thon with visions of toasters and food processors dancing in their eyes). As I folded the very last map into the pocket shape and affixed the letter Z and the tape to the edges, the town's name staring up at me from my work table on the map was Westerly, Rhode Island. I am trying to figure out who actually owns that particular copy but here is edition # J from the series, just to give you an idea of what the design was:

My friend Dave and I joked about taking a trip to Westerly to see what would befall me, but we didn't, laughing it off as folly; me secretly terrified.

Last night at the William Baczek Gallery in Northampton while waiting for Godot (aka an order from Local Burger where they might want to rethink their slogan: "It's not fast food... It's good food fast!" or maybe just change the name to "Rip Van Winkleburger") I was drawn to a piece by Connecticut painter Joshua Smith in the corner. As I stared at it, something emerged that I hadn't seen for a while. Have a look.

No, look more closely.

When I got home I GOOGLED: "Jim Neill Westerly" on my partner's computer and it returned this ominous top result: James Neill (Deceased).

Now on my OWN computer as I attempt to recreate the result for this post, it comes up with something about Intrauterine Insemination. I know that Google searches will yield different results on different accounts based on search histories etc., all the better for Google to market to you for their advertisers. Hers comes up with me dead. Mine with making babies, if in an indirect fashion.

Well, then.

"I lied about being the outdoors type." - Evan Dando

2011-06-17T17:46:00.003-04:00

Click logo above for A.P.E. Site

"Steve Snell's Alaska Wild! & Other Adventures in Contemporary Art"

At APE on Main Street in Northampton it's hard not to do a double-take when passing by. This huge painting in the entrance reminded me of the moon two nights ago and this inspirational shirt I saw on Amazon:

This shirt has inspired thousands judging by the customer reviews here.

Here's the deal on the actual APE exhibit after that bit of ....inspired frivolity:

First, he floated down the Connecticut River on a couch boat. Then he met Alec Baldwin while journeying across the State on a ‘Thesis Quest’ for his Master of Fine Arts degree. Now, he is back from an adventure to the Alaskan wilderness, and prepared to share with the Pioneer Valley all that he has learned and experienced on these adventures, which he identifies as ‘art’.

Beginning June 17^th and running until June 30^th, 2011, local adventure-artist, Steve Snell, will exhibit an installation of video, sculpture, drawing, and painting at the A.P.E. Ltd. Gallery at 126 Main St. in Northampton. This exhibition will feature three separate adventures that seek to explore the mediated and physical reality of American popular culture and the artist’s relationship to it. Snell has searched for meaning in the mountains of Western Massachusetts all the way to the wilds of Yakutat, Alaska. He has floated rivers, walked backcountry roads, flown over remote glaciers, and kayaked into distant, pristine waters. He has found eagles, otters, beavers, CNN, abandoned cabins, lost dogs, kind strangers, Alec Baldwin, and art. Now visitors can have these experiences for themselves via this mediated installation at the A.P.E. Ltd. Gallery.

A closing reception will be held on Thursday, June 30^th from 5 PM – 8 PM. Then, Steve Snell will vanish from the Northampton arts scene on a new, yearlong adventure into the deep south of the United States. He says he will return one day and claims “you haven’t seen the last of Steve Snell” (his voice slowly trails off).

Gallery Hours for this Exhibition: Daily: 12-5, Fridays: 12-8

Visit A.P.E.

A.P.E. at Window
126 Main St.
Northampton, MA 01060

Phone: 413.586.5553
Fax: 413.586-6819

Gallery Hours:
Tuesday - Thursday, 12-5 pm,
Friday & Saturday, 12-8 pm,
Sunday, 12-5 pm,
Closed Monday

To view a preview of this installation go to:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_RKLNgfut8

Daily Hampshire Gazette Feature

2011-06-15T23:29:00.002-04:00

It's always a surprise when my casts out into the sea hook a little "mainstream" attention, dating back to the letter that Marvel Comics printed in Marvel Team-Up #54 back in 1976 when I first moved from Maryland to Amherst and discovered that the outside world included me if I chose to participate in it. Thanks to Phoebe Mitchell for noticing.

Two Northampton Institutions Ride Into The Sunset

2011-06-13T15:55:00.007-04:00

It seems that after nearly 30 years (I think) our beloved Pleasant Street Theater Video store will become Northampton Wools in a matter of weeks. Rumor has it that the Forbes Library is interested in buying the amazing collection of films that has provided so many households with well curated evenings of cinematic joy, horror, thrills, laughs, groans, panic, and even utter disgust. (Did anyone rent Centipede? Yuck!!! The middle segment would definitely be the worst even though #3 got the least nutrition.) Let's hope so. the collection should remain in the town's bloodstream and if it helps increase traffic at Forbes, then all the better. There are no more video stores in Northampton. Thanks, technology! ! I will miss the conversations with Dana, Bill, Philip, Gene, Jennifer, Patty, Chris and the rest as well as the communal rapport that regular customers developed. It's the kind of store where people would feel free to offer unsolicited tips (or warnings) to total (or partial) strangers. Even the staff would discourage me from renting a movie sometimes. Not because it necessarily sucked but because they knew I probably wouldn't like it. Because they knew me. So thank you, Pleasant Street Video staff, for your years of service and movie lists and good advice and wit and friendliness. (Painting by Robert Sweeney)

Back in the mid-80s, after a late night out dancing at the Northstar Seafood Bar to DJ's Jim McDee or Scotty Dread, or thrashing to the Pajama Slave Dancers and Watch The Teeth Kate at Sheehan's, everyone who was anyone showed up for breakfast at Jake's, which used to stay open until 3AM on weekends. Aside from ditching the late night hours, Jake's stayed the course and remained largely the same for all these years. Frills? Never had 'em. Never will. This Wednesday is the last day of business as usual at Jake's so come in, get a turkey club, maybe with carrots instead of chips, and say goodbye. After all these years, the black and white photo of the most regular customer, Bruce, must come down.

And what ever became of the Father's Day poster?

After I took this photo, someone bought one of these last two shirts right off the wall.

Beneath the Planet of the Return of the Night of The Living Dead's Chainsaw Massacre on Ice starring Lady GaGa and Sarah Palin as Search Engine Magnets

2011-06-12T20:56:00.004-04:00

Life in the Nohodome has been in suspended animation for many months and with this post I intend to revive the blog and henceforth post several times a week. The goal is to record impressions of daily life in Northampton, Massachusetts in text, pictures (click for high resolution), and video. A travelogue without the travel. A man on the street who peers down the alleys. A concierge at large.

The Gang's All Here

One of a Kind

Mother's Day 2011

Parting Shots

Fellow Local Blogger Tommy Devine.

Check out his Cosmos Report.

Weekend Stroll through Northampton

2011-02-27T13:52:00.015-05:00

CLICK any photos for larger views.

New Retro Genie location opened this weekend on Strong Ave. across from East Side Grill but next weekend will be the grander opening!

The basement at Retro Genie, decoration in progress. I'm feeling Greg Brady and Jack Lemmon at once.

I dream of Retro Genie....

Comb-over in training.

Bumper sticker philosophies for passers-by...

...and passengers.

"Do you have a G-spot GPS?"

Mardi Gras season in evidence at Ultra Gal.

Your photographer at Jake's.

Dick and boob art is unhindered, and in fact enabled, by winter precipitation. No I am NOT the artist. I am merely monitoring the culture in whatever beer-fueled forms it may sometime take.

The Vegan Monologues...

The Roost, a great reason to come over to the other side.

Old time-punch clock for factory workers on display at the Antique Center on Market Street.

Mild Max.

Kate and Beth at the Roost.

Fine arf galleries.

That Is That But Is That That?

2010-10-31T15:27:00.003-04:00

When someone fancies oneself a poet, a blogger, a writer, it follows that one writes poems and blogs and writes, but how long can one go without engaging in those activities before he must hang up those titles; stop espousing them when asked what one "does" or "is?" For today I believe that one is only a writer when actually writing. Even in the milliseconds between typing words one ceases to be a writer. And by writer I mean writer, one that is presently writing, not a Writer with its connotations of a pithy blurb referencing awards and names of pets and a black & white dust jacket photo with tastefully disheveled hair and a cocky smirk masquerading as a humble grin.

Today I like that definition because today I don't like definitions. When one is not reading, one is not a reader. Nor, though, is one a non-reader for that is also a definition that implies an identity based on an activity. My theory is that when one is not reading, not writing, not anythinging, then one may just as well be a nonpareil, the nihilist movie theatre candy.

Yesterday I had my boots shined at Shu-Fix on Hawley. They are fine shoe-shiners but not good spellers.

When one is not loving, one is not a lover. Two people are not lovers if they aren't currently engaged in a Louisiana Liplock or equivalent maneuver/predicament. They are perhaps simply people, an acceptable term for when they are viewed, say, from the observation deck of a high rise. Versus "human" when they are viewed from space or "folks" when spotted in a swing in the yard from the porch. If they are crossing the street they may also be pedestrians. If they are pedestrians in Northampton, then they have perhaps the most powerful legal standing in the western world.

My sister was perhaps not portraying a pedestrian convincingly enough a few years ago when she was struck in the crosswalk in front of Thorne's Market by a woman who was apparently simulating a licensed driver. It seems that merely engaging in the activity does not guarantee that one is a representative exemplar of the activity associated with the title. The woman rolled up her windows and called her insurance company before even getting out of the car to see if my sister was okay. She was okay. A few bruises. Mind those out of state plates, you X-ing peds. They are not of our world.

Is one breathing when between breaths? Yes, we've been taught in yoga and meditation, for it is circular. The in begets the out begets the in. See also Louisiana Liplock.

So what is one; what are we in these betweens, interims, pauses? I guess it depends on what are is and what is is and other language vs. thought experiments. It's in this area where I suspect we're actually encountering limits in language more than limits in thinking. Thinking does not happen entirely in words, though this idea startles some. The chattering in the mind is the "sound" of language trying to either attach itself to or get out of the way of thought. Like mental musical chairs. Sometimes you'll find that that process ends up with two thats sitting next to each other. The thats were staring at each other from across the brain. I knew they'd end up together. They reminded each other of each other. So did the is couple at the beginning of the paragraph. They're probably kissing over in the right hemisphere of the brain by now. In the word kissing the is's are facing each other so draw your own conclusions. The buts rarely hook up and when they do they're filled with excuses for why things won't work out. The ifs and ands have been known to have three ways with the buts.

So what am I today? Maybe that would help me figure out what I was going to do with the last beautiful Sunday afternoon in October. I have the urge to call in sick but I'm not scheduled to work. I think I'll do it anyway.

Photos from a recent visit to the deCordova Museum and Sculpture Park.

Popping vs. Riding a Wheelie circa 1973

2010-09-04T19:12:00.016-04:00

In the days before moto-cross, mountain bikes and 10-speeds, when I was 11, all I wanted was a 5 speed banana seat bike. Why a banana seat? They looked cool. They had that metallic shimmer. You could fit an STP and a Wynn's sticker on it and more than one butt. More kids than bikes? No problem. Sizable convoys of kids on bikes were a common sight, 'riding' each other, two and even three per bike, one on the back of the seat, one on the handlebars. I especially liked "riding" Loretta Dickerson, the only girl Dickerson kid, with four brothers. She was the first tomboy I'd ever known, and she taught me the term. "I'm a girl but I'm a tomboy so I don't wear dresses." Her name was pronounced "The Retta."

Between a Daisy BB-Gun and the bike, it was no contest. It became one word, a mantra, a religion: fivespeedbananaseatbike. Specifically a Schwinn Sting-Ray. Ideally with a sissy bar, the metal extension that rose about 24" above the back of the seat to keep you from slipping off when popping wheelies. I guess. Counter-intuitively, you were not a sissy if you had a sissy bar. You were making a statement, an unspoken commitment, that you would be executing maneuvers that would require this daredevil apparatus. Popping, or rather riding wheelies, and skidding were crucial skills and, once you owned a bike, especially with a sissy bar, it was a given among the neighborhood kids that you were prepared to be judged and ranked.

Popping a wheelie just meant pulling the front wheel off the ground for a moment, but riding a wheelie was the measure of the kid. Alfred Dickerson could ride a wheelie all day long, as if riding on one wheel was God's plan. He pedaled down the road holding the front wheel aloft, pointing it left, then right, with a level of nonchalance that rubbed salt into the wound of my incompetence. The first time I saw Alfred do this, I was in awe. I felt I couldn't go on. And when I thought he couldn't be any cooler, he let go of the handlebars.

When my parents finally relented and gave me the fivespeedbananaseatbike for my birthday, it was not a Schwinn Sting-Ray. Not only wasn't it a Schwinn; it was a Huffy. Huffy was perhaps the name most opposite of bad ass. It was....good ass. Wussy ass. It wasn't even ass. It was just...Huffy. Like puffy. Of course the Dickerson brothers, Brian, Kevin, Wade, and Alfred judged my new bike, and by association me, to be "gay." As the college professor's kid, I was already assumed to be soft by the local rednecks, aka pretty much everyone in the neighborhood but my family. I also knew that this was simply true. I was soft. Middle-class soft. I could still play it down most of the time. They were all decidedly short guys and even I was taller than they were. And I was pretty shrimpy for my age. I recall eating lunch at their house. Syrup sandwiches. Aunt Jemima between two slices of Wonder Bread. Malnutrition may have played a role in their failure to achieve their full height; their genetic potential. They also all slept in the same bedroom. And Brian is currently serving a life-term in prison for murder.

But the Dickersons, regardless of stature and social strata, could all eventually ride wheelies all the way down the road like Alfred, and I could only pop and hold one for about six feet. I was a little better at skidding. This was executed on a dirt road, of which there were plenty in the rural neighborhood of Cliffs Point, 10 miles outside of Chestertown, MD on the Chester River. The idea was to pedal furiously and then hit the coaster brakes (this predates handlebar brakes) and slide as long as possible, leaning into the final few feet and bringing the bike around in a fishtail 180 that pointed you back in the direction you came from, prepared for judgment. Brian Dickerson laid down a physics defying 22 footer on Lands End Road that was never topped. Brian, trumping Alfred in my estimation, eventually mastered the paved skid as well which left actual rubber on the road in the hotter months. This meant that the length of the achievement could be seen by those who had not been there to witness, unlike the dirt skids which were subject to elimination by car tires. Group pilgrimmages to verify any alleged skid over 10 feet, the threshold of a credible claim, was common.

Then one day at the beginning of summer vacation, the year that Evel Knievel became our God, Tommy Thomas suggested building a jump.

Crime Wave! The Amherst Police Blotter (with comment)

2010-07-09T00:13:00.022-04:00

Police Report Compiled by SCOTT MERZBACH (Amherst Bulletin) Published on July 02, 2010

Police Report Vandalized by JIM NEILL on July 09, 2010

MONDAY, JUNE 21

SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY

11:04 a.m. - Police located a tent set up at the Wildwood Cemetery that may belong to a homeless person living there. Police left a note for the person to remove the tent since it is on private property. (Dear Occupant- You must be dead to live here.)

CITIZEN ASSISTANCE

11:22 p.m. - Police are trying to resolve differences between a father and daughter after he took her passport so she wouldn't be able to spend a semester abroad in Brazil. Police met with the family the following day at 4:11 p.m. (Meanwhile, the department of social services was called to the scene of a bank robbery.)

ADDITIONAL ACTIVITY

8:31 p.m. - A man was referred to Greenfield police following an incident in which he said a person selling a car on Craigslist led him deep into the woods of the Franklin County town where the car was allegedly being stored. The man fled from the woods as he grew nervous that the alleged seller didn't really have a car to offer and was instead leading him into the woods for some other reason. (He was advised not to answer any more car ads in the Casual Encounters section of Craigslist.)

TUESDAY, JUNE 22

SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY

11:11 p.m. - A woman sleeping in the lobby at Ann Whalen Apartments was sent on her way. (This is "Suspicious Activity" and the man in the woods is merely "Additional Activity?")

VANDALISM

2:56 p.m. - A speed monitoring trailer on Old Farm Road was damaged after a rock was thrown at it. (The LED display clocked the rock at 98 MPH and police are now working with Major League Baseball to track down the culprit.)

THURSDAY, JUNE 24

SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY

4:46 p.m. - A resident of Sunderland Road reported that a woman came out of the woods and entered the house where he was staying and walked into the basement saying she was looking for a bracelet. He was advised to lock the doors. (While she's still in the basement.)

CITIZEN ASSISTANCE

10:09 a.m. - Police responded to a Shays Street resident who let a homeless man stay at his house but then asked him to leave. (Dude! World Cup! Wide screen! Just one more game and I'll leave!)

12:18 p.m. - Police were asked to remove a young woman from the lawn of St. Brigids Church. (It took four officers and a flatbed to remove the white, rigid, almost stone-like female from the property.)

SATURDAY, JUNE 27

SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY

9:16 p.m. - A man searching for raccoons reported a man lying in the woods in front of his house. The man turned out to be drunk and had passed out. He was escorted home. (Until he gave his address as Wildwood Cemetary.)

CITIZEN ASSISTANCE

11:01 a.m. - Five young people were reported to have jumped on a train in Brattleboro. The train was stopped at Pulpit Hill Road and found to be musicians traveling across the country. They had bicycles and were told to leave town. (Um...that's what we were trying to do.)

9:43 p.m. - Granby reported a lost hiker on the Amherst side of the Notch, but he turned out to be in South Hadley, which took over the search. (Oh hey, he's been found over here in South Hadley. We'll take over the search. Oh wait. Right. Never mind.)

DISTURBANCES

8:28 p.m. - A woman said she was punched in the face outside Mill Valley Apartments. Police found it to be a family dispute over comments made on Facebook. (More like Punch-in-the-Face book)

9:31 p.m. - A man who reported shouting on Jenks Street was shouting at himself. He declined help but said he would go inside and keep his voice down. (He shouted at himself again and again to keep quiet but no matter how much he shouted he wouldn't quiet down.)

9:49 p.m. - A woman said she was in the laundry room at Rolling Green Apartments when she was confronted by a naked man who walked in. He didn't say anything and didn't touch her, but she fled to her apartment. (He was doing ALL of his laundry.)

VANDALISM

11:58 p.m. - A resident of Phillips Street reported he heard glass breaking downstairs. Officers found a fence post had been thrown through a window. (By the Incredible Hulk?)

NOISE COMPLAINTS

8:48 p.m. - A loud party was reported at Village Park and police asked residents to turn off the music and go inside. (Unless it was NUGENT!)

9:20 p.m. - A loud party was reported on Wildflower Drive. It was a wedding party, and the resident said it will be over soon. (The marriage?)

4:04 p.m. - A herd of goats was reported loose on Route 116, but police found them in a field near a farm. (They were on a field trip.)

Northampton Historical Postcard Bonanza!

2010-07-03T13:24:00.027-04:00

This view (below) is looking up South Street toward the old Edwards Church at the corner of State and Main Streets and below that is a hand tinted shot from the same era; late 1800's. This church was torn down in the 1950's and replaced with the A-Frame structure you see today, and four photos down. In the middle is a view of the church from Elm Street shortly before it was demolished. Note the conservative hemlines on the skirts of the jaywalking Smith students. Perhaps one of them is Sylvia Plath. The original Edwards Church (of three) was actually built in 1833 on the corner of Old South and Main Street near where Thorne's Market is now, but in May of 1870 the Hunt building next to the church caught fire and took the church to the ground with it.

Below, Memorial Hall with the Roundhouse visble in the left corner and the Academy of Music to the right.

Below, The Academy of Music and two similar views of the old Post Office on Pleasant Street.

Two views of the Plymouth Inn at the corner of Green and West Streets which was demolished. This is now the site of East Heaven Hot Tubs.

Northampton State Hospital, three spooky views. It was also called the Northampton Lunatic Asylum and Northampton Insane Hospital at various times.

Look Park in Florence, below. The view from the stage looking out at the Pines Theatre and the train that still runs the perimeter of the park I believe.

Jack August Seafood at Bridge and Hawley, now the Paradise City Cafe. This was still there when I lived in the area originally in the late '70s.

Below, Green Street, adjacent to Smith College. This was actually an upscale street for shopping compared to the more utilitarian shops that used to dominate Main Street. Its fancy shops were a harbinger of the retail environment that would gradually take over Main Street in the 80s. How charming and innocent The Quill looks. I can almost detect that stationary store smell.
The Great Flood of 1936. The view in the photo below is looking up Pleasant Street toward the Hotel Northampton, visible at the top center. WGBY has some more images here.

The woman (below) on the left is standing across the street from what's now the Hospice Shop and Pop's Liquors looking up Bridge Street toward Main Street.

I think this is the view from the opposite side of the bridge looking down Main St. to Bridge St. and Market st.

Before the Coolidge Bridge was built the Hockanum Ferry was the only way to get to the malls and back.

Look carefully and you'll see a parking ticket tucked into the horses bridle.
Cherry Street off of Market/North Street.
Union Street off of Market/North Street.
Before the helmet law there was the beret law.

The Smith College "Quad"
Skating on Paradise Pond at Smith College.
Good old Rahar's, now Osaka.

Scribblings Found in a Briefcase

2010-06-19T12:07:00.004-04:00

I'm heading over to Amherst today to go to Amherst Books and Amherst Coffee, places that keep their missions and names focused. I pulled an old briefcase from the back of the closet to carry some items for my field trip so I won't have pants-pocket overload bulge. My camera, my phone, my digital recorder. I know, I should get an iPhone and they would all be contained in one device, but an iPhone is the speedball of tech devices and I would end up in recovery. These days there should be AA meetings for iPhone junkies. Apps Anonymous.

In the briefcase I found a postcard for the Moscow Circus which dates my last usage of the bag to Februray 2008. I also found a piece of yellow pad paper, transcribed below. It seems to be a scenario I wrote down after hearing about my old friend Monika getting complaints from her neighbors about practicing her cello. Monika was/is a renegade and the leased cello was later repo'd by Amherst Strings. (actually Stamell Strings)

"The neighbors don't like cello and bang the broom against the ceiling. What do they expect? This isn't a performance. It's the work that leads up to it. It's the sound of life in a neighborhood. It ought to make them happy. Imagine if you heard someone practicing cello in Baghdad. You'd think the tide was finally turning."

The Once Might Collection in its Heyday

2010-06-14T18:45:00.001-04:00

Mikey the Busker Gone?

2010-05-27T22:25:00.004-04:00

I don't know the details but Mikey, one of the regular downtown Northampton buskers, died within the last week. A memorial has started to take shape on the folding chair he sat on and kept secured with a bike lock to a street sign between shifts. He played solid versions of songs by the Dead, Dylan, Floyd, Neil...does anyone else remember his set list? I passed him several times a day and though I never stopped to chat I threw a fiver in when he played "I Can See For Miles" by The Who.
At least one of these photos is by Marvin Cable.

Hoard Out

2010-05-01T21:12:00.036-04:00

"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." - Tyler Durden
I'm getting rid of stuff. Making tough calls on books and clothes. Photos. Magazines. I want to be a reverse hoarder. A defenestrator. I want to repel matter that might make its way into my home. I want to create a strong psychological missile defense shield against most solid matter.
There are subtle degrees of being a poser, and it takes a lot of honesty to shake the syndrome of presumed coolness by mere ownership of cool shit. That image in my head of leather jacketed Paula Theodsopulous, music director of WMUA, walking into Mahar Auditorium in 1982 for our Food Science and Nutrition 101 lecture with Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" 12" single tucked under her arm was the boilerplate I would adopt for cool. These days I am well into the enlightenment that followed the realization that I was defining myself in terms of my belongings to an unhealthy extent. But when it finally happened, my lesson didn't come gradually. Let me share.
I had a TON OF STUFF that I moved out here from Los Angeles. Thousands of books, records, CDs. Lots of artwork and gold records and antiques. Knicks and knacks. Bric and Brac. Here's an embarrassing shot of me "nailed" to my CD collection in 1994 in my studio in Hollywood and below that my late beloved cat Fred atop my LP collection, all now gone.
It cost $7000 to move all this stuff from LA to Northampton. But before I could really get settled, I went into my "missing years," fodder for an eventual post, and my landlord sold all of my possessions out of a storage space in Hatfield. I call it my fire, but unlike Glenn Siegel, a recent Northampton fire victim, I didn't have to pick through the destruction. It was just gone. My landlord, who I later successfully sued, has stopped paying me the monthly pittance I agreed to. I'm pondering my next move with him. But as overwhelming as it was to fathom when I found out all my things were gone back in 2003 or so, I learned how to lose by losing. I've never felt the urge to collect anything since then. I don't get attached to things nor do I fear being robbed like I used to. I still appreciate objects but I don't get obsessed.
My friend Barbara Friend said not spending money is like a game. You have to practice practice practice until you stop eyeballing the world as an assortment of goods. It's hard to shake that view given the way many of us were brought up with presents associated with magical characters like Santa and the Easter Bunny. Kids love magic and imagination but I can't help wincing when I see the toy tsunami being repeated with my nephews and little brother. How corruptive to harness childhood mystery in the interest of acquiring new shit. Not to dismiss the power of an awesome Christmas present. My dad gave me the Calvin and Hobbes box set. An amazing and generous gift. The kind of thing where you know your dad knows you and knows you've been eyeballing it but can't afford it. But I kid you not, I randomly opened to a page to take the picture of the box set and the three strips below just happened to be about this very subject. (Click pix to read full size strips)Barbara said, keep the wallet in the pocket. Sure, go into the store. Pick things up. Look at the people. They're much more interesting than the objects. I'm usually aware of and fascinated by retail behavior. Well, behavior in general. Visual and actual eavesdropping. I watch what books people pick up and wonder if they're self-conscious about it. Perusing that Poets & Writers magazine makes that woman look like an aspiring novelist. On the other hand I don't believe that the guy in the John Lennon glasses has actually read Pynchon. Nobody has. No you haven't. Liar. Okay, Steve Shavel has. And my dad. Maybe.
So I did literally zero out my material wealth but for the clothes I was wearing and some artwork and furniture that my family rescued before the rest went into storage and eventual oblivion at the hands of the landlord's hired thugs. The stuff my family cherry-picked, well they've pretty much kept it. Which while it would seem to cancel out the benefit of the salvage effort for me, it does remain in the family and that's okay in the enlightened view that I'm practicing. My Leonard Baskin at 51 self-portrait is on my sister's dining room wall. Maybe I'll reclaim it when I'm 51. That never seemed possible before, me being 51. It will certainly help me revise my estimation of Baskin as an old man in that portrait. Ah...an artist in his early prime!

David and Leslie Ham of the former Half-Moon Books graciously returned some books I'd sold them (in harder times) that were inscribed to me including my tiny Jim Tate chapbook; Apology For Eating Geoffrey Movius' Hyacinth.
Josh and Cynthia at Mystery Train Records in Amherst generously did the same with some albums and singles that were autographed to me. That's NRBQ's Tom Ardolino at Mystery Train. I wonder how Tom is handling the gradual demise of record stores, his homes away from home.
I did accumulate (not collect!) a lot of books in these post zero-out years. I just pruned about 200. I'll never miss them. Literary liposuction. Let's look in the discard boxes. Hannah Arendt "Responsibility and Judgment." Why did I buy it? Because the cat I adopted in Los Angeles from my upstair's neighbor was named Hannah after Ms. Arendt, the subject of my neighbor's masters degree. Plus, it looked important and I was curious about her, recalling my neighbor's passion. And I bought it for the cover. I've never cracked it. But uh oh. Here I go, just like with clothes. "Well maybe I will wear this. Maybe I should read this.
Okay let's look on Amazon. "Responsibility And Judgment is a collection of previously unpublished writings from the last decade of the life of editor and World War II survivor Hannah Arendt (1906-1975). Chapters wrestle with complex moral issues and philosophical questions both in general and in relation to specific events such as judicial trials of World War II criminals and the repercussions that America's failed war effort in Vietnam had on the nation's policies and psyche. Written in clear, no-nonsense terms, Responsibility And Judgment is as accessible to lay readers as it is to philosophers, and offers its insights free from the constraints of political ideology. Highly recommended. " Oh my. Maybe I'll keep that one after all. Maybe my instincts were good on that one. Here are the boxes of culled books. Mom, I know that's the Michael J. Fox book you gave me in there but rest assured I did read it and it was uplifting. In all seriousness. But now it's time for someone else to enjoy it. :-)
So let me find a better example of a book I had no business buying beyond the purchasing ritual and its slipstream of lies. This one might work. Ladies and Gentlemen, Lenny Bruce by Albert Goldman from the journalism of Lawrence Schiller. Amazon customer review: "If you have ever read any other works by Goldman, more specifically his John Lennon bio, you realize the author only cares about sales and speculation. In this tedious book, the most laughable lie is that Bruce was illiterate. Really. Goldman never met Bruce, but sure made some money off of him. Do not diservice the memory and great work of Lenny Bruce by purchasing this tome of lies." Okay. I saved myself a dozen hours of life. Paid $7.50. Copies going for as little as 2 bucks on Amazon. Maybe Henry will give me a 25 cent credit toward another mistake at The Old Book Store. Though I hear the Montague Book Mill is also a good place to sell. Or Raven Used Books. Both require appointments.

What about all these pulp paperbacks? Do they contribute to my happiness? Perhaps it would be enough for them to live on in this blog but physically move on to fulfill someone else's hoarding needs.

Everyone has this drawer at home...
...and at work.
But for now, I'm leaving all my stuff alone, and looking out my window at a little reminder of a world beyond stuff. There is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and if there was it's been processed into bars and is one of the few things propping up the dollar these days. And sorry Joy Division's Ian Curtis. I think love will keep us together, not tear us apart. The Captain and Tenille will back me up on that.

Neuroticmancer

2010-03-27T17:50:00.005-04:00

I haven't written anything here in a month or more. Something's clogged the pipes and I don't know exactly what it is. I've been reading a lot. All at once. Linchpin by Seth Godin, Reality Hunger by David Shields, Love and Sex With Robots by David Levy, You Are Not A Gadget by Jaron Lanier, The Notebook by Jose Saramago, and the new Lapham's Quarterly. This is highly evolved A.D.D. I simply can't just start a book and finish it and move on to the next one. I take bites out of each and then come back to them later. Like one of those cafeterias where you load up the tray with crazy combinations and end up with corn in your pudding. I actually work this way too, jumping from one project to the next. Luckily that's exactly what my job requires. So maybe I haven't felt like adding to the onslaught of words in the world. Reading is the teeter to writing's totter though and I strive to do both in tandem. Get the balance right.
My dream life has been complex and ornate recently. I try to capture the fragments that don't make it off the dream stage to the unconscious backstage area in time when I open my eyes in the morning...those stills from the film that I then try to lay out in front of me in the hopes that they will trigger more complete memories. Offer a chronology or a hindsight storyboard. The emotions I have in my dreams have been more vivid than my waking emotions. It's exhausting to sleep. The dreams have been a little like LOST. There's lots of information and I can't assimilate it. Are these clues to something bigger or just random scenes?
I got a bill from Cooley Dickinson Hospital for an appointment and procedure I never had and doesn't even apply to me but I can't get any answers until Monday and that's unnerving me.
I think I got overcharged last night at Paradise City Cafe. This pisses me off because I don't even like that place. I had a beer with my friend Max there and he encouraged me to get up earlier and start going to the gym. He says everything else will fall into place if I do that. Sometimes living alone there's no one to keep me in check....to judge me when I have ice cream at 2AM or cheer me on to go the gym. I let myself get away with all kinds of bullshit.
I posted this newspaper headline on my Facebook page that said "Republicans turned off by size of Obama's package" and something crazy happened with it. I started getting literally hundreds of Facebook friend requests from total strangers. How does a Facebook post go "viral" and why would all these people want to friend me just because they found it amusing. Lots of them sent personal messages. Some solicitous. One really nasty one.
I'm going to a pot luck in Williamsburg tonight and I'm riding with a friend. I get nervous when I'm someplace and have to depend on someone else for a ride home. It's people I don't know either so they're going to ask me questions about myself. Help! My old girlfriend and I flew to Portland, OR in 1999 or so to visit a married couple who were her friends and I hated being there so much that I feigned illness and hid in bed the whole weekend. The guy decided he wanted to teach me how to make beer. I just wanted it to end. That's how mature I can be.

Playlist for Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River -- March 17, 2010

2010-03-18T11:54:00.003-04:00

Anais Mitchell/Greg Brown- Why We Build the Wall

She and Him- Ridin’ in My Car

Phantogram- Mouthful of Diamonds

The Eels- Jeannie’s Diary

Joy Zipper- Check Out My New Jesus

Daniel Johnston/Jason Falkner- Is And Always Was

Appliance- Hot Pursuit

Apollo Ghosts- Shaolin Barhop

Young Marble Giants- Final Days

Ray LaMontagne- Be Here Now

Jonsi- Grow ‘Til Tall

Gay Dad- Black Ghost

The Chills- Pink Frost

Lisa Mitchell- Valium

Death Cab for Cutie- Crooked Teeth

Television Personalities- Salvador Dali’s Garden Party

Scritti Pollitti- Jacques Derrida

Miracle Legion- Madison Park

Neighborhoods- Prettiest Girl

Nada Surf- Enjoy The Silence (Depeche Mode)

Cheap Star- Pop Music of the Future

Of Montreal- Labyrinthian Pomp

Miike Snow- Animal

Apples in Stereo- Nanny in Manhattan

Stereolab- Moogie Wonderland

Sparklehorse- Sunshine

Four Tet- As Serious As Your Life

Dif Juz- No Motion

Duet Emmo- Or So It Seems (Wire project)

Boston Spaceships- Question Girl Alright (GBV, Decemberists collab.)

J Mascis- No Good Trying (Syd Barrett)

Tortoise and Bonnie Prince Billy- Thunder Road (Springsteen)

Dan Black- Symphonies

Deanna Storey- Little Person (Jon Brion)

Big Star- Ballad of El Goodo

Big Star- ST 100/6

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist for Wed. 3/11/2010 on WRSI 93.9 The River

2010-03-10T23:18:00.007-05:00

Robyn Hitchcock- Do Policemen Sing?
Guided By Voices- Bulldog Skin
Ryan Adams- Burning Photographs
The Who- Armenia City In the Sky
Jenny Lewis/Watson Sisters- Handle With Care
Yo La Tengo- Big Sky
The Turtles- Me About You
Aimee Mann- Could've Been Anyone
Getaway Cruiser- Didn't Know
Jonsi (Sigur Ros)-Grow Till Tall
Jonsi- Boy Lilokoi
The Darkside- Guitar Voodoo
Queen- Long Away
Girl Brothers- Uh Oh Don't Look Down
David Ford- Making Up For Lost Time
Coco B's- Bluebird
Abra Moore-Taking Chances
Pete Yorn/Scarlett Jo- I Am The Cosmos
Gay Dad- Black Ghost
Peter Gabriel- Here Comes The Flood
Lisa Mitchell- Valium
Liz Frazer- At Last I Am Free
Todd Rundgren- Wailing Wall
John Martyn- Just Now
Mark Kozelek- Leo and Luna
David Bowie- Letter To Hermione
James Iha- Be Stong Now
Public Image Ltd- Public Image
Generation X- Valley of the Dolls
Echo and the Bunnymen- Crocodiles
Killing Joke- Change
The Smiths- What Difference Does It Make
Joel Plaskett- You Let me Down
Nada Surf- Electrocution (Covers CD "if i had a hi fi")
Hoodoo Gurus- Bittersweet
Nik Kershaw- Your Brave Face
Lucy Schwartz- Gone Away
Mary Lou Lord- I Figured You Out
The Lilac Time- Julie Written On The Fence
Pink Floyd- Julia Dream
Skip Spence- War In Peace

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist 3/3/2010

2010-03-04T00:04:00.006-05:00

Joe Pernice- Moonshot Manny (Spring training)
Lisa Mitchell- Coin Laundry
Magnetic Fields- I Don"t Believe You
The Kinks- Party Line (Ray at the Webster on Saturday)
New Pornographers- Your Hands (Together) (New album "Together)
Flamin' Groovies- Shake Some Action
Richard Hell and the Voidoids- Destiny Street
The Gorillaz- Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach (new album)
Of Montreal- Labyrinthian Pomp
Scritti Politti- Jacques Derrida
Human League/Groove Armada- Things That Dreams Are Made Of
Candyflip- Strawberry Fields Forever
Joanna Newsome- '81 (New album "Have One On Me")
Taken By Trees- Watch The Waves
Alice Cooper- Generation Landslide
Code Blue- Face to Face
The Neighborhoods- Prettiest Girl
Autumn Defense- Paradise (Mark Mulcahy tribute album)
Dandy Warhols- Boys Better
Neutral Milk Hotel- King of Carrot Flowers
Traffic- Hole in my Shoe
Spiritualized- Why Don't You Smile Now
Green on Red- Gravity Talks
Frank Black and the Catholics- I Gotta Move (REQUEST)
Camper Van Beethoven- God Guys and Bad Guys
Little Feat- Fool Yourself
Rain Parade- I Look Around (REQUEST)
Gustafer Yellowgold- Get Up High in a Tree (No Nap Kids show at Horse)
Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers- The Wild One (Forever)
Roy Harper- How Does It Feel?
Juliana Hatfield- Choose Drugs
East River Pipe- Make A Deal With The City
Roxy Music- The Bogus Man
Rabbit Rabbit- Touch the Winter Wino
Godley & Creme- Group Life
Das Racist- Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell
Heaven 17- We Don't Need This Fascist Groove Thang
Sahara Blue- I'll Strangle You
Cheap Star- Pop Music of the Future

Jim Neill's Jukebox airs LIVE on WRSI The River (or streaming online) every Wednesday from 7-10PM EST (Photo: Bill Childs)

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist 2/24/2010

2010-02-24T22:30:00.005-05:00

Iggy Pop- New Values
The Bongos- In The Congo
Deer Tick- Baltimore Blues #1
Altered Images- See Those Eyes
Reverie Sound Review- Arrows
Belle and Sebastian- Funny Little Frog
Teardrop Explodes- The Fighting Takes Over
Of Montreal- Gronlandic Edit
Zoot Woman- Grey Day
Passion Pit- Moth's Wings
Cocteau Twins- Caroline's Fingers
Jeff Buckley- Grace (KCRW)
Jon Brion- Ruin My Day
Left Banke- Pretty Ballerina
Cheap Star- Pop Music of the Future
Stereolab- Moogie Wonderland
Be Bob Deluxe- Electrical Language
Gavin Castleton- Coffeelocks
Juan Son- Goldfish
O+S- We Do What We Want To
Pee Shy- Mr. Whisper
Kirsty MacColl- A New England
Billy Bragg- Cindy of 1000 Lives
Essex Green- Snakes in the Grass
Galaxie 500- Cheese and Onions
Mumford and Sons- Roll Away Your Stone
Gemma Hayes- Happy Sad
Housemartins-Think For A Minute
Mark Kozelek/Rachel Goswell- Around and Around (John Denver)
Juliana Hatfield- So Alone
Stranglers- Walk on By (Bacharach)
Medium Medium- Hungry So Angry
The Heavy- That Kind of Man
Bevis Frond- He'd Be A Diamond
The Samples- Waters Rush
Lemonheads- Beautiful
Richard Butler- Good Days, Bad Days
Jeff Buckley- Dream Brothers (Sony Studios)

JIm Neill's Jukebox - 2/17/2010

2010-02-17T22:40:00.003-05:00

DJ Cam- In A Silent Way/Shhhhh (Miles Davis)
Betty Davis- He Was Freak
Frank Black and the Catholics- I Gotta Move
Captain Beefheart- Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles
Traffic- Hole In My Shoe
The Kinks- Days
The Lilys- Nanny in Manhattan
Eric Matthews- Fanfare
Midlake- We Gathered in Spring
Deer Tick- Art Isn't Real (Ciy of Sin)
Tobin Sprout- All Used Up
The Chills- Push
Beachwood Sparks- Sweet Julie Ann
East River Pipe- Make A Deal With The City
PJ Harvey- The Wind
Monsoon- Ever So Lonely
The Lilac Time- Julie Written on the Fence
The Innocence Mission- Sorry and Glad Together
Pete Townshend- Now and Then
Led Zeppelin- Bron-Yr-Aur
O+S- We Do What We Want
Ivy- Edge of the Ocean
Gil Scott Heron- New York Is Killing Me
Spirit-Nature's Way
The Stranglers- Baroque Bordello
Magazine- Definitive Gaze
Gavin Castleton- Coffeelocks
Katrina and the Waves- Spiderman
The High Dials- Fields of Glass
Neu- Hallogallo
Dwight Twilley- I'm On Fire
Anthony More- Judy Get Down
The Hoodoo Gurus- I Want You Back
Lou Barlow- Caterpillar Girl
Death Cab For Cutie- Crooked Teeth
Jen Trynin- Getaway (February)
Thin Lizzy- Runnin' Back
Bob Mould- The Silence Between Us
The Who- Relax
Robyn Hitchcock- Goodnight Oslo

Jim Neill's Jukebox #5 (2/10/2010) on WRSI 93.9 The River in Northampton

2010-02-10T22:33:00.010-05:00

One Eskimo-Kandi
Essex Green-Snakes in the Grass
Thomas Dolby-Airwaves
Red House Painters-Japanese to English
Queen-She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilletoes)
Spirit-Nature's Way
Monsoon-Ever So Lonely
BLK JKS- Kwangingetje
Zombies-I Remember When I Loved Her
Angelique-Mio Amore Sta Lontano (Zombies from Danger Man)
The Nerves-Hanging on the Telphone (Original version)
Cat Power-Hanging on the Telephone
Imperial Teen-Yoo Hoo
Root Boy Slim and the Sex Change Band-Boogie 'Til You Puke
Chris Stamey and Yo La Tengo-Venus (Television)
Juliana Hatfield-So Alone
Mutton Birds-Come Around
NRBQ-Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard
Chandler Travis Philharmonic-Baby, Come Get Your Cat
Sitting Next To Brian-Cloudy Silver
Posies-Solar Sister
J Mascis-No Good Trying (Syd Barrett)
Nada Surf-I Like What You Say
Roy Harper/Jimmy Page-Same Old Rock
John Cale-Andalucia
Big Star-For You
The The-Soul Mining
Jerry Harrison-Worlds in Collision
Andy Stochansky-Stutter
Jonatha Brooke-Landmine
The Hang Ups-Sign The Letter
Papas Fritas-People Say
Decemberists-California One/Youth and Beauty
Merrie Amsterburg-Lay of the Land
Monkees-Porpoise Song/As We Go Along

Too Old To Rock and Roll: Too Young to Die

2010-02-06T14:54:00.019-05:00

A rambling post based on incomplete thoughts on the recipes of time, age, and music with a minimum of editing.

"The old Rocker wore his hair too long,
wore his trouser cuffs too tight.
Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light.
Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams ---
the transport caf' prophet of doom.
Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-babe gloom.

Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die."

I wonder how long the static radio format and genre known as "classic rock" will last. No era of music has ever been cryogenicized on the radio for so long. It's a hoary old oeuvre on permanent repeat-play. I don't deny the importance or quality of much of this rock, but its implicit attitude toward musical evolution is "try as they might, they'll never top these 300 songs."

"They've thrown away their blue suede shoes."

Classic Rock is comfort food and functionally no different than the canned "big bands and ballads of the '40s and '50s" format that I used to run off four reel-to-reel machines at WTTT-AM in Amherst in the 1980s. It's the same 40 odd year difference between Sinatra's prime and WTTT circa 1985 that it is between Zeppelin's heyday and today's classic rock format. But where this used to frustrate me on behalf of new generations that might think Classic Rock starts and ends with those 300 songs, the true depth of rock music's library is re-awakened in the interet-age. Now that commercial radio is not the all-powerful monopolizer of most musical discovery for the public, the gold mining has begun in earnest for music lovers.The gates are open if the voracious are ready for the cornucopial musical orgie to commence. Have some Skip Spence with your Bon Iver? Don't mind if I do.
So where does one find this vast archive of great rock music that the narrow-casters of rock radio have always cast off like the dough left around a cookie cutter? Talk to the gang at the record store Turn It Up! and they'll tell you as much about the Shangri Las as they will Arcade Fire. On the air, WRSI 93.9 The River is a rare gem as well, programming from their ears and hearts with just the right amount of oversight and a savvy integration of advertising that keeps the commerce palatable and relevant to the listener. (Plus they gave me a three hour radio show to explore music even beyond their already generous margins. The only thing as fulfilling as listening to a song that moves me is turning someone else onto it.) WMUA at UMass is all over the map but it's my old home and is never a dull trip. Online, KCRW Santa Monica's Eclectic 24 stream is another brilliant source for music discovery. In print, the seemingly bottomless, Mojo Magazine is a terrific lens for viewing rock music without the meddlesome tethers of time. Their ethos is also my model. All music exists all the time. The Zombies will always be ripe for discovery and nestle comfortably side by side with the Decemberists on any iPod.

Parents these days have an easier time of it turning their younger kids onto Hendrix and the Beatles than parents of the 60s and 70s did trying to hip the youngsters to Bobby Goldsboro or even Elvis Presley. Elvis seemed like an old fart when I was 11. In fact Elvis was just 38 when I was 11. But whew, that was a beefy 38.

Jimmy Page told Cameron Crowe in 1975, "I just felt that I wouldn't reach 30. That's all there was to it. It was something in me, something inbred. I'm over 30 now, but I didn't expect to be here." After being a generally hazy figure, Page is now an increasingly public and coherent guy whose enthusiasm for music remains, as is clear in the film "It Might Get Loud" and a recent Mojo Magazine article about his personal "jukebox." It makes me feel better to be 46 seeing Page make sense of 66.

I've noticed that it does start to get a little silly for straight ahead rock bands to keep going through the motions ala the Stones, U2, or this Sunday's guaranteed painful spectacle of The Who at the Super Bowl. Artists like Loudon Wainwright and Springsteen are better suited to bringing their music along for the whole ride. Most would cite Dylan. I've loved getting older with Loudon and his records and shows. So what if these guys need two pee breaks during their sets these days. They've earned it.

"Now that I am dead, my agent finally said, he wanted to have lunch with me.

Now that I've deceased, my record sales increased, I'm making lots of royalties.

I'm the composer, decomposing, I'm in the Rocker's Hall of Fame.

My songs the critics they are praising, yes they've even learned to spell my name!"

--Richard Thompson "Now That I Am Dead" (Bill French)

We've lost some of the greats of 60s and 70s rock, but there hasn't been the huge generational die-off of artists and original fans that will eventually occur, many of us among them. Will classic rock ever be retired, even when its creators and followers are long gone? Maybe the answer is a question. Who cares? The music itself is immortal. When you're listening to an old Nick Drake album, you're actually listening to a young Nick Drake album.

"And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die. No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die."

Can you see her tantrum? Smith College Campus School's First Graders present Poems and Portraits at A.P.E. in Northampton

2010-01-30T15:08:00.005-05:00

The APE Gallery on Main St. in Northampton has a new exhibit up that's very entertaining and well conceived. Here are a few examples.

Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River - Show # 4 - January 27, 2010 Playlist

2010-01-28T18:52:00.005-05:00

Mutton Birds – Green Lantern (New Zealand)
Ron Sexsmith – Hands of Time
REM – Me In Honey (with Cindy Wilson of B52s
Downy Mildew – Left Foot Down
Cheap Star- You Got It All (Jon Auer of Posies, Big Star)
Sun Kil Moon – Neverending Math Equation (Modest Mouse)
Getaway Cruiser – I Didn’t Know
Sonos – Everything in its Right Place (Radiohead) Silver Chord Bowl 2/7, Iron Horse 2/8
Spoon- Mystery Zone
Wire – Kidney Bingos
Bibio- Ambivalence Ave.
Vetiver- Everyday
Jonatha Brooke – Last Innocent Year
Jon Brion – You Can Still Ruin My Day
Robyn Hitchcock – Goodnight Oslo
Marshall Crenshaw – Cynical Girl (request)
Cheap Star- Pop Music of the Future
Big Star – I’m In Love With A Girl
Evan Dando – Frying Pan (Victoria Williams) (Iron Horse 2/4)
Guided By Voices - Chasing Heather Crazy
Nada Surf – I Like What You Say – (Pearl St. 3/31)
Lisa Mitchell – Coin Laundry
Michael Penn – Weeds (Victoria Williams)
Laura Veirs – Parisian Dreams Iron Horse 2/14
Lyle Lovett – Acceptable Level of Ecstasy (request)
Magic Numbers – Crazy in Love (Beyonce)
Tomorrow – My White Bicycle (Steve Howe guitar)
The Byrds – Why
Mutton Birds – Last Year’s Shoes
Noah and the Whale – Blue Skies
The Sundays – Don’t Tell Your Mother
Why? – Close to Me
Matthew Sweet – This Moment (Victoria Williams)
Throwing Muses – Two-Step
The DBs – Darby Hall – (non-LP B)
The Mamas and the Papas – Make Your Own Kind of Music (LOST)
Tinted Windows – Nothing To Me (Taylor Hanson/Hanson, James Iha/Smashing Pumpkins, Bun E. Carlos/Cheap Trick Adam Schlesinger/Fountains of Wayne)
Presidents of the USA – Loose Balloon
Gavin Castleton – Coffeelocks
Pylon – Altitude
Kevin Ayers – Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes
Mayer Hawthorne – Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out (Pearl Street 3/6)

Vetiver, Happy Birthday, Asa Irons at Grey Matter Books in Hadley on Sunday at 8PM

2010-01-23T20:51:00.006-05:00

Grey Matter Books at 47 East Street in Hadley presents a stellar musical bill on Sunday night (1/24) with a couple Sub Pop bands; SF's remarkable and engaging Vetiver, along with Brattleboro's Happy Birthday plus Asa Irons of J Mascis's Witch and Feathers, with rumors of a special guest, and I have no idea who it might be. Last time Vetiver played the Iron Horse Devendra Banhart joined them. This is one of those "I wish I'd been there" gigs so carpe diem music freaks and geeks. $10 413-387-0260. Here's the video for Vetiver's new song "Everyday," which I played this past Wednesday on the Jukebox on 93.9 The River.

Here's the link to the video for those reading this on Facebook.
Here are some pix I shot last Saturday on my first field trip to Grey Matter Books which yielded some amazing anatomy texts from the 19th century.
I covet this projector and have a big white wall in my apartmemty hungry for cinema. Posters on Grey Matter's walls.

Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River, Wednesdays from 7-10PM. Playlists for first two shows:

2010-01-16T22:36:00.003-05:00

Jim Neill's Jukebox # 1 on 93.9 -The River -1/6/2010 7-10PM

Atlas Sound- Walkabout

Stereolab- French Disko

Inara George- No Poem

School For The Dead- Something…

Presidents of the USA- Loose Balloon

St. Vincent- Laughing with a Mouth of Blood

Girl Brothers (Wendy & Lisa)- Love and Trouble

Luna- Sideshow By The Seashore

Abra Moore- Sugareet

Radney Foster/Abra Moore- I’m In

Sneetches- She May Call You Up Tonight

Tristeza- Golden Hill

Lou Reed- Coney Island Baby

Todd Rundgren- Boat on the Charles

Kooks- Young Folks (PB&J Cover)

Jazz Butcher- Sweetwater

Sun Kil Moon- Neverending Math Equation

Magnetic Fields- 100,000 Fireflies

Nada Surf- I Like What You Say

NRBQ- Ain’t It Alright

Robert Plant- Black Dog

Pink Floyd- Oh By The Way

Roy Harper- Tom Tiddler’s Ground

Lisa Mitchell- Coin Laundry

Volcano Choir (Bon Iver)- Island, IS

Bows- Big Wings

Urban Species- Listen

Robyn Hitchock- Surfer Ghost

Mark Kozelek- You Ain’t Got A Hold On Me (AC/DC)

Crooked Fingers- Twilight Creeps

Dennis Crommett- Friend To Me

Magic Numbers- Crazy in Love (Beyonce)

Noah and the Whale- Blue Skies

Bill Callahan- My Friend

Hope Sandoval- Blanchard

Hugo Largo- Fancy (Kinks)

John Martyn- Glory Box (Portishead)

Jim Neill’s Jukebox #2 1/13/2010

Lloyd Cole and the Commotions- Charlotte Street

John Cale- Paris 1919

Pell Mell- Nothing Lies Still Long

Edward Sharpe - Desert Song

Hector Zazou- I’ll Strangle You

Northern State- Better Already

Nada Surf- Inside of Love

Rogue Wave- Lake Michigan

The Stranglers- The Raven

St. Vincent- Laughing with a Mouth of Blood

Blood Sweat and Tears- Sometimes in Winter

The Acorns- Antenna

Most Serene Republic- Heavens to Purgatory

Zombies- Rose For Emily

Lemonheads- Beautiful

Liz Phair- Somebody’s Miracle

Crooked Fingers- Twilight Creeps

Jonathan Richman- Girlfriend

Hope Sandoval +Warm Inventions- Blanchard

Tunng- People Folk

Thom Yorke - All For The Best (Mulcahy cover)

Kraftwerk- Man-Machine

Dananana Aykroyd- Black Wax

Lisa Mitchell- Coin Laundry

Bran Van 3000- Everywhere

Paolo Conti- Dean’s Bean’s pick

Stephen Malkmus- Jenny and the S Dog

The Frames- Falling Slowly

Big Star - ST100/6

Broken Social Scene/Emily Haynes- Backyards

Roy Harper - South Afrtica

Lush - Sweetness and Light

Fever Ray- I’m Not Done

William Orbit- Metamorphosis

Wire - Outdoor Miner

A new Northampton-based novel, "I Thought You Were Dead" by Peter Nelson, due out in April. Book trailer with Hugo's photo.

2010-01-16T11:06:00.006-05:00

I finagled an advance copy of Peter Nelson's new book "I Thought You Were Dead" today and hope to read it by the end of the weekend whereupon I'll do a review. Blurb: "Pete Nelson is the author of several books, including Left for Dead. He is also a singer-songwriter with a select but devoted following. He is not, however, the Pete Nelson who writes books about tree houses, although he has nothing against them. He lives in Westchester County, New York."

For Paul Gustavson, a hack writer for the wildly popular For Morons series, life is a succession of obstacles. His wife has left him, his father has suffered a debilitating stroke, his girlfriend is dating another man, he has impotency issues, and his overachieving brother invested his parents' money in stocks that tanked. Still, Paul has his friends at Bay State bar, a steady line of cocktails, and a new pair of running shoes (he’s promised himself to get in shape). And then there’s Stella, the one constant in his life, who gives him sage advice, doesn’t judge him, and gives him unconditional love. However, Stella won’t accompany Paul into his favorite dive bar. "I'll roll on dead carp, I'll even eat cat turds, but that place grosses me out." Stella, you see, is Paul's aging Lab-shepherd mix, and she knows Paul better than he knows himself.

In I Thought You Were Dead, author Pete Nelson delivers a novel that is all at once heartwarming, heartbreaking, and heart-wrenchingly funny. Most of all, it’s a story that proves that when a good dog is by your side—especially one with whom you can have an engaging conversation—life can be full of surprises.

New Year's Eve Video Northampton Mass. 2009-2010

2010-01-01T03:33:00.000-05:00

New Year's Eve Northampton 2009-2010 Photo Dump

2010-01-01T02:23:00.013-05:00

The Orphan Glove Project

2009-12-29T18:44:00.000-05:00

Union Street House Fire Photos

2009-12-27T16:40:00.007-05:00

I took a short walk over to the house on Union Street where my friend Glenn lives and talked to him and his son standing outside their heavily damaged house. His son Henry woke up at 2AM for some reason and heard glass break downstairs. He woke his dad up, saving both their lives says Glenn, and ran downstairs to find the back of the house in flames. The fire started on the porch out back and Henry said he wonders if the glass he heard was breaking due to heat or if some sort of molotov cocktail had been thrown through the porch window. Glenn said he thinks his record collection survived and was already talking about pulling some music for his show on WMUA this Friday.

Poetry amidst the ashes.
Local photographer Paul Shoul and a city worker survey the damage.
A helicopter circled the neighborhood for over an hour, seen here over Glenn's home.
Below, a city police officer posts an arson alert sign.

Singing Leonard Cohen songs at Joe's Pizza

2009-12-23T21:48:00.013-05:00

You'd get your ass kicked in West Virginia for this kind of thing. I was eating alone at Joe's, reading the profound new issue of Adbusters and sipping a Stella. Local artist/teacher Rick Gifford, his wife and friends sat across from me and somehow Leonard Cohen came up in their conversation. Rick started singing "Everybody Knows" and, at a loss for all the lyrics, someone pulled out their li'l blackberry-ipod-phone-a-majig and located the lyrics. He handed it to Rick and we all started into singing the whole song. We talked about Cohen and how many people have covered him, including Rufus Wainwright, one of the many who've taken on the song Hallelujah.

Rufus is on Sundance Monday night: "Aiming to be a documentary about a pop star (Rufus Wainwright) who composes and stages a classical opera, "Prima Donna," which airs Monday night on the Sundance Channel, instead winds up being a heartfelt 90-minute guide to the care and feeding of a young genius." Wainwright appears at Northampton's Calvin Theatre on Valentine's Day Weekend.

Rick said U2 covers Cohen's "Tower Of Song" and we all set into that one next, with an assist from the great lyric cloud in the digital sky.

"Tower of Song" by Leonard Cohen

Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get?
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him coughing all night long
A hundred floors above me
In the Tower of Song

I was born like this, I had no choice
I was born with the gift of a golden voice
And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond
They tied me to this table right here
In the Tower of Song

So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll
I'm very sorry, baby, doesn't look like me at all
I'm standing by the window where the light is strong
Ah they don't let a woman kill you
Not in the Tower of Song

Now you can say that I've grown bitter but of this you may be sure
The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor
And there's a mighty judgement coming, but I may be wrong
You see, you hear these funny voices
In the Tower of Song

I see you standing on the other side
I don't know how the river got so wide
I loved you baby, way back when
And all the bridges are burning that we might have crossed
But I feel so close to everything that we lost
We'll never have to lose it again

Now I bid you farewell, I don't know when I'll be back
There moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track
But you'll be hearing from me baby, long after I'm gone
I'll be speaking to you sweetly
From a window in the Tower of Song

Yeah my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day

"Everybody Knows"
by Leonard Cohen and Sharon Robinson

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died

Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows

Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still pickin' cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows

And everybody knows that the Plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there's gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows

And everybody knows that you're in trouble
Everybody knows what you've been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu
Everybody knows it's coming apart
Take one last look at this Sacred Heart
Before it blows
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Oh everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows

Saturday Morning

2009-12-12T11:30:00.003-05:00

"Gonna buy me a case."

Josh at Turn It Up! said that Ian's goal is to find a picture of the artist for every divider card.

Artistic activity in the alley by Northampton Wools.

Even the porta-potty people understand something about symmetry.

Annual Hot Chocolate Run to Benefit Safe Passage

2009-12-05T10:14:00.004-05:00

What's a hot chocolate run without mashmallows?

DJ Bex Zumbruski and WHMP's Bill Dwight. Bex hosts a monthly dance party at The Rendezvous and you can sometimes catch her on the airwaves bringing the jazz on 88.5 WFCR.

The ubiquitous Monte from WRSI 93.9 The River.

"Safe Passage provides non-judgmental support, shelter, counseling, and an abundance of resources to women, children, and families affected by domestic violence. Join Safe Passage in working to create a community where violence is not the answer."

C3 Public Art in Northampton

2009-11-29T20:10:00.007-05:00

On my way to Northampton Coffee today I saw what I thought was snow on the lawn of the Chamber of Commerce. It was 50 degrees so obviously this was not the case. As I got closer I realized it was plastic cups. Matt Winum was in the process of doing an installation, funded by the Chamber of Commerce (B.I.D.?) and conceived by Commonwealth Center for Change (C3) for the Winter Windows Project. The cups will be illuminated at night. Matt also did the 2x4s and sleds installation in front of Urban Outfitters.
This shot is from Matt's Valley Artshare page.

Chill Pill

2009-11-28T22:43:00.003-05:00

Claustrophobia Dream

2009-11-28T18:48:00.006-05:00

This morning I awoke in a panic. I'd had a claustrophobia dream. In the dream I am climbing the stairs to an attic room where my childhood friend Stuart Malone lives. Stuart died of a heroin overdose when he was 26. At the top there's some sort of wall abutment or architectural oddity protruding into the narrow stairwell. It requires bending and twisting into an unnatural and tight position to maneuver the final stairs and emerge into the attic room. I never make it into the room. There's a tense moment where I'm positioned almost upside down such that my arm is wedged and moving it will cause it to break when my full body weight lets go. My panic makes me want to jerk it quickly and escape, and it's from this bone-threatening position that I awoke this morning gasping for breath, freeing myself from the blankets and jumping out of bed waving my arms in the air to verify that I was not trapped. I was shaking and filled with a sense of deja vu and dread. I remembered this stairway squeeze vividly. Was it an actual memory or a memory of a dream? It had to be from a dream because the existence of such a thing makes no sense. Claustrophobia is not one of my big phobias. I had an MRI once and didn't panic. It was equipped with mirrors which gave the illusion that you were in the room and not in the tube. But all day today I've been feeling panic when I remember the dream. And here's the weirdest thing. An hour after I awoke I read this story in the Gazette over a bagel.

"John Jones, 26, of Stansbury Park, died nearly 28 hours after he became stuck upside-down in Nutty Putty Cave, a popular spelunking site about 80 miles south of Salt Lake City. John Jones was part of a group of 11 people exploring the cave passages. The 6-foot-tall, 190-pound spelunker got stuck with his head at an angle below his feet about 9 p.m. MST Tuesday. At times more than 50 rescuers were involved in trying to free him." The whole story is here. (The photo is not from this specific incident.)

Sunday in the Sixties

2009-11-15T17:19:00.013-05:00

It was a warm November Sunday in Northampton with temps reaching well into the sixties. I was a wanderin' fool with my camera and the idiot glee that comes from an unexpectedly gorgeous day. Below, left to right, a local musical icon convergence in front of the Woodstar Cafe on Masonic Street with Michael Gregory, Roger Salloom's 93 year old mother, Roger Salloom.

Looking for deals in the discount CD rack at Turn It Up! (umm....pull 'em up).

I often see some unfamiliar street musicians on Saturdays and Sundays; weekend warriors compared to the 9 to 5 guys who are out there every day.

Here's Adam (and friend) with his guitar on the front porch of the notorious "house with the red door" on King Street. Adam is also a virtuoso of the saw. Only the red door's hinged edge is visible.

A colorful bunch about to become pedestrians.

And they're off!

If you want this worm, it's going to cost you.

This is local boxing coach Djata Bumpus of Pioneer Valley Boxing School who's been a fixture in town for years. But he's much more than just a boxer as you'll see on his blog Djatajabs. The purpose of his blog is "for people to be able to recognize and understand cultural and social developments in the United States, based upon the lifelong journey of an African American activist, educator, artist, and retired pro boxer."

Who's zoomin' who?

Local girls agree to be immortalized on the Nohodome.

Sweet job for someone.

Hmmm. Is the B.I.D. behind this? They painted all the lamp posts black but you'd think maybe there would be an attempt to match the color of cement when patching the sidewalk. This looks terrible, and right in front of the Hotel Northampton too.

There's a planet on the roof of the hotel...
...and on the front stairs.

Trying on jackets at Roz' Place on Bridge Street. Note the amazing vintage radio collection. Bakelite!

Not sure I can rock the Ramones look anymore despite my admittedly bad ass rock and roll lifestyle that has me up as late as 9PM most nights.

A delivery truck hit the marquee right after the other side was repaired for the same reason. Grrrrr! Knocked the lights out too so it just glows VIN.

A zen moment with Ani DiFranco who plays the Calvin tonight. My friend Katie is taking me and insisting I will enjoy myself.

Lions and Bonnie and Femmes

2009-11-11T19:38:00.003-05:00

Gordon Gano (of Violent Femmes) and the Ryan Brothers with me and Sean from WRSI today after an in-studio performance. I am NOT shorter than Gordon. I'm hunched down so as not to obstruct Sean. In February of 1989 I was at a music biz baseball game in San Francisco and I hit, no lie, a grand slam off a Gordon Gano fastball. He said he remembered it well, still bears the scars, and that someone had just asked him about that 20 year's gone game a few days earlier! Why can't I get, just one strike....?

This is obviously the Lion's Club represented by this old firetruck in today's Veteran's Day parade in Northampton, shot out my office window.

Bonnie's ghost cart continues to runneth over.

A Bushel of What?

2009-11-05T11:48:00.009-05:00

I read when I eat, a habit that began as a child reading every word on a cereal box, pupils fiercely dilated by sugar, hypnotized by that row of 25s in the nutritional info rectangle. Total and Special K had 100s. Quisp, well, I don't recall the vitamin and mineral percentages but it was shaped like little UFOs. "Vitamins" and "Minerals." The two words that perpetuated the ruse that this stuff was food. Do kids still save box tops or that magical childhood currency, the proof of purchase seal, that promised poorly constructed knock offs of real toys or licensed cartoon character figurines with lots of extra plastic left around the edges by the cheap molds? I never had the patience for those delayed gratification offers. If the toy was pictured on the box, it better damn well BE in the box. There were two kinds of families when I was growing up. The ones that allowed kids to empty out the cereal into a big bowl to claim the toy and the ones like mine that made us wait until the toy was birthed naturally during normal cereal usage rates. It was forbidden to conspicuously eat another bowl in one sitting just to get to the toy. I tried it once but it didn't come out on the second bowl pour and I just couldn't credibly ask my mother for a third in good conscience or health.

I was reading a copy of Edible Pioneer Valley this week while I ate dinner, learning all about eating local and healthy. I don't think the pizza I was eating from Pizza Amore on Green Street is what they mean by locally grown. But like going to the gym, eating right is on the list that I hope to get to before being instructed to do so by a doctor. To this end, I want to direct you to a locally grown cooking blog by Nicole Kutcher with lots of easy cooking recipes. A Bushel of What? "Nicole Kutcher lives with her husband and her dog in Easthampton, MA. She has no James Beard Awards, no culinary training, and no cookbooks published under her name. She does, however, like to eat." The latest post is a great (I bet) Curried Vegetable Soup recipe. She's "got one in the oven" herself as of late so forgive her any pickle and ice-cream based recipes that may pop up. Just click on the logo below.

I'm infected by awareness.

2009-11-03T21:10:00.009-05:00

Do you ever feel like what you might really feel like doing is too unsophisticated to cop to? I am so distraught by Fox News and so much of what's in the "news" that shouldn't be news and even more distraught at what the real news, reported or not, appears to be. I'm angry that people like Glenn Beck have a cable network at their disposal, like a cockroach with a megaphone. I like Rachel Maddow because she fights back, but lately that's all she's able to do. The bullshit-storm, by design, is so strong that the sensible people have to waste their time defending themselves against assaults from the idiots who destroy and don't create. There's rarely a chance to do anything else. You can't have a civil conversation in the middle of a locust invasion without going blind and swallowing big gulps of exoskeleton. Is it wrong to want to just turn it off and live in a bubble of my immediate reality more often? I'm infected by global awareness, and probably only scraping the surface of the truth at that. My innate optimism feels feisty but naive and either dependent on oblivion or subject to serious and emotionally expensive re-evaluation and compromise.

Mommy, what makes men drum in the back of a parked truck in downtown Northampton on a Sunday evening?

2009-11-01T17:42:00.018-05:00

And what makes a man videotape them? And what makes a man use the word videotape instead of whatever phrase describes shooting a movie with a digital camera? I slept until 3PM, well, 2PM, today and awoke to my door buzzer. Emily was returning the bag I'd left in her car last night containing a picture frame, an umbrella, and one warm can of Miller beer. The detritus of an evening of altered identities and mental states for morning-after forensic analysis.

I made a scrambled egg burrito and then headed to Northampton Coffee for a cappuccino and a lemonade at 5PM. I felt none of the usual guilt about sleeping away a Sunday, drunk with the heady luxury of that extra hour added to the day. This gift of an hour gives humans an illusory sense of power over time, as if we had any control. Sure, we invented these measures of time; minutes, hours, days, so we could have dentist appointments, and we can use our invention to pull this daylight savings time jazz, but sister this won't buy you time in the end. If your moment of death occurs right when the clocks go back, you don't get a reprive. Never mind the whole leap year racket. As the Beatles said, number nine, number nine, number nine. We're just monkeying with the instruments. Nevertheless, it's a great illusion and today felt long despite my scandalous sleep-in.

Usually I feel like I've robbed myself of life's precious and finite weekend hours. But lately I realize that I needn't see the weekend as separate from the work week because A. they frequently bleed together and B. why not just BE all the time wherever I am instead of framing some time as mine and some as "on the clock?" I've read about taking this approach with "waiting" in line or in traffic and it makes plenty of sense. Don't think of it as waiting. Don't focus on getting to the cashier and twitch and fidget. Try to be in line. BE in line. Look around. Listen to what people are saying. Monitor the culture. Gather some anecdotes. It makes me feel powerful not to allow a situation to get the best of me and look around at all the willing victims who have yet to reach CVS-line enlightenment. I think about elevators and stairs this way too. They are not merely a means to an end. If life is about the journey and not the destination, then what better metaphor is there than a staircase, an escalator, or an elevator? The epitome of a failure to grasp this idea is those ridiculous segueways (ala Paul Blart: Mall Cop) that rob us of our walking.

The video below evokes the concept of transport as its own reward (as well as offering a clever tool against obesity.)

Waiting rooms. The name already sets people up for annoyance. What is this need we have to divorce parts of our lives into chunks, half spent reminiscing, the other anticipating? Or doing too many things at once like George Costanza and his dream trifecta: eating, having sex, and watching television all in bed simultaneously. Jerry calls him "Caligula" after this incident. George says, " I flew too close to the sun on wings made of pastrami," and Jerry replies, "So, she didn't appreciate the erotic qualities of the salted cured meats?"

Personally, any moment on this planet that I'm not in pain, have no broken bones, I'm not in jail, I can breathe and scratch my elbow, etc., I am in a state of potential joy. The real test I guess would be keep my cool in an airplane that is going down. And really, what is life but that?

Richard Glaven and I used to paint houses for Joe Callahan in the '80s and when we'd finish and he'd assess our work he'd point to places on the house where we had missed a spot and say "Holiday!" He'd find another. "Holiday!" Pointing his finger at spots across the span of the house, "Holiday! Holiday! Holiday!" Richard made a point of answering Joe's critiques with meaningless non-sequiturs. "But Joe, it's different for domeheads." Joe would stare at the two of us, first Richard, then me, then Richard again and shake his head. He'd say, "Nevertheless...." We'd get back up on the ladders and paint over our little mini-vacations. Then we'd all go to Delano's for beers. I had a job as a short order cook at Delano's after college. It was my first employment coup with my English B.A. from UMass.

After Northampton Coffee I came home feeling ideal bio-chemically and inspired to create. This feeling doesn't happen often enough. It's a full moon so maybe I'm feeling a lunar tug on the tides of my creative juices. Sometimes it's the result of caffeine and is oft accompanied by a flurry of resolutions and the use of words like oft. I proclaim that I will get up at 7AM and go to the gym for the second time this year after buying a two-year membership last January. Then I'll go to Northampton Coffee or the Haymarket to read the paper, maybe scribble down some of the more promising fly-by thoughts, and go to work on time rather than sleeping until 9:45 and getting in at 10:30. Eric, if you're reading this, the times are purely hypothetical....

I tried to make some headway at my collage table but lost interest and, as always, I end up talking and writing about being creative rather than doing it. I love ideas and inspiration but wow does my discipline and follow-through suck.

The recycling bin is always interesting when you share a building with the TMNT's company Mirage. The renowned local enterprise was just bought by Nickelodeon.

Halloween in Northampton- Day into Night

2009-11-01T02:14:00.004-05:00

Halloween in Downtown Northampton - Daytime

2009-10-31T14:19:00.017-04:00

"You've got mail!"
Photo above taken on Pearl Street behind the nightclub. Speaking of guitars, I saw "It Might Get Loud" this week at the Pleasant Street Theatre. It seemed like the "summit" hadn't yielded as much magic as hoped so there's very little actual chat between Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White. What conversation exists is awkward and the jams are odd, especially The Band's "The Weight." How about asking Page to play "I Will Follow," Edge to attempt "Icky Thump," and Jack to try (obviously) "Hat's Off To (Roy) Harper?" The film is edited together into thematic and biographical parts. I was thoroughly engaged all the way through despite its shortcomings. It's fun to see Page in his record room using a turntable, the staircase where Bonham kicked off "When The Levee Breaks," the old new wave hairdos of U2, and hear the story of Jack and Meg's red and white peppermint motif and Jack's favorite song ("Grinnin' In Your Face" by Son House.) (Click to hear it!)
Above: The scene at Kathy's Diner; a place where hipsters and almost off the rails townies have always co-existed in a scrambled sort of harmony with Patsy Cline on the jukebox speaking to any generation within earshot. I used to eat there after a night of beer and music at Sheehans's when it was still the Red Lion Diner and that crazy ol' Big Mike(?) used to cook there. I pointed out a cockroach in my omelette to him once and he plucked it out and said, "there." Below: This is the flesh of a telephone pole.
I ran into John Allen after breakfast with Dave and he (Dave) took this photo. There may be an identical photo taken 25 years ago back when we were wee lads.
Alice and perhaps Sir Gawain on their way to meet the Mad Hatter and the Green Knight on an anachronistic double breakfast date at the Green Bean.
I must notify Sesame Street immediately about this find.
State Radio play the Calvin tonight and they played an acoustic set at NBO this morning prior to a 5K road race to benefit Darfur.
These two cats have both lost their way. Do you recognize either? Call the numbers below.
Written on the wall in the Thornes Market men's room.
Bonnie Ascher tributes continue. Below, the window of Yes Computers on Pleasant Street.
A sign seen around the Market Street neighborhood, here affixed to an angelic white "ghost-cart" outside of Roz's Place, inspired by Bonnie's vehicle of choice. This is a beautiful and inspired shrine in the tradition of "ghost bikes" for fallen cyclists. There is a website dedicated to these bikes and their pilots, but no ghost-cart site as of yet. Here is the site's page for dear Meg Sanders who lost her life on her bike at Smith College in 2005. Meg's ghost bike was leaning against a tree near the scene of the accident. Blake Goodman, a cyclist killed in Amherst recently, had his ghost bike vandalized. Who would do this? There is a reward offered by Blake's dad for info. Here is Larry Kelley's post about Blake's bike.
Here's Paul Shoul's photo of Bonnie, who did ride a bike on occasion which as you can see had a bin for bottles and cans strapped on the back. It's hanging inm the window of the fabulous vintage store RETRO GENIE. Click here to read the whole story of this picture.
Here is a delightful video shot in Northampton by World's Greatest Dad for their song "Jacqueline." Click the collage. This was shot around Market Street, Bonnie's 'hood.
Here's a short video clip I shot at the Iron Horse of Sup Pop band Dum Dum Girls who have a '60s girl group meets Jesus and Mary Chain magic that made me tingle all over. They opened for King Khan and the BBQ Show. P.S. Fuck Buttons tomorrow night (Sunday) is now at the Iron Horse, not Pearl Street.
I am Son Of Man by Magritte for Halloween.

Life in the NohoDome

Beat on the Brat with a Banjo

Strolling. Pointing. Shooting.

Still Life With Left Ventricle

Nohodome Is Back for 2012

The Sleep Study

Jim Neill’s Jukebox - A weekly radio show on 93.9 WRSI The River- Wednesday nights 7-10pm- Recent Song Obsessions circa July 16, 2011

Epic Pancakes

Even ghosts have to feed the meters.

Downtown Northampton Sunday Afternoon

Downtown Northampton Saturday Morning

Laughing Dog Bicycles. John Dwork's Skateboard. Ni Carborundum Illegitimati.

The Westerly Hauntings

"I lied about being the outdoors type." - Evan Dando

Visit A.P.E.

Gallery Hours:Tuesday - Thursday, 12-5 pm, Friday & Saturday, 12-8 pm, Sunday, 12-5 pm, Closed Monday

Daily Hampshire Gazette Feature

Two Northampton Institutions Ride Into The Sunset

Beneath the Planet of the Return of the Night of The Living Dead's Chainsaw Massacre on Ice starring Lady GaGa and Sarah Palin as Search Engine Magnets

Weekend Stroll through Northampton

That Is That But Is That That?

Popping vs. Riding a Wheelie circa 1973

Crime Wave! The Amherst Police Blotter (with comment)

Northampton Historical Postcard Bonanza!

Scribblings Found in a Briefcase

The Once Might Collection in its Heyday

Mikey the Busker Gone?

Hoard Out

Neuroticmancer

Playlist for Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River -- March 17, 2010

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist for Wed. 3/11/2010 on WRSI 93.9 The River

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist 3/3/2010

Jim Neill's Jukebox Playlist 2/24/2010

JIm Neill's Jukebox - 2/17/2010

Jim Neill's Jukebox #5 (2/10/2010) on WRSI 93.9 The River in Northampton

Too Old To Rock and Roll: Too Young to Die

Can you see her tantrum? Smith College Campus School's First Graders present Poems and Portraits at A.P.E. in Northampton

Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River - Show # 4 - January 27, 2010 Playlist

Vetiver, Happy Birthday, Asa Irons at Grey Matter Books in Hadley on Sunday at 8PM

Jim Neill's Jukebox on 93.9 The River, Wednesdays from 7-10PM. Playlists for first two shows:

A new Northampton-based novel, "I Thought You Were Dead" by Peter Nelson, due out in April. Book trailer with Hugo's photo.

New Year's Eve Video Northampton Mass. 2009-2010

New Year's Eve Northampton 2009-2010 Photo Dump

The Orphan Glove Project

Union Street House Fire Photos

Singing Leonard Cohen songs at Joe's Pizza

Saturday Morning

Annual Hot Chocolate Run to Benefit Safe Passage

C3 Public Art in Northampton

Chill Pill

Claustrophobia Dream

Sunday in the Sixties

Lions and Bonnie and Femmes

A Bushel of What?

I'm infected by awareness.

Mommy, what makes men drum in the back of a parked truck in downtown Northampton on a Sunday evening?

Halloween in Northampton- Day into Night

Halloween in Downtown Northampton - Daytime

Gallery Hours:
Tuesday - Thursday, 12-5 pm,
Friday & Saturday, 12-8 pm,
Sunday, 12-5 pm,
Closed Monday