GoodeStreet

I was fortunate to capture a recording of an interpretive dance that Barb performed during a Thunder and Lightning concert in Ashland. The occasion became all the more special (for me, in particular) because Thunder and Lightning, which is no stranger to the Rogue Valley in Southern Oregon during summer months, typically prefers to perform in open-seating venues at numerous rustic locations throughout the surrounding Cascade and Siskiyou mountain ranges. However, this time they chose to perform within Ashland city limits... and on consecutive nights!

Thunder and Lightning has drawn rave revues world wide due to their unique, never-copied sound, along with their equally impressive special effects which accompany their performance. The craftsmen of T&L have never been shy about informing the public about their performance beliefs, feeling the Grateful Dead, while being kindred spirits in nature, also desecrate nature by recording music in a studio, and to make matters worse, in the minds of T&L, require unnatural sources of power to perform. T&L eshews all such, as they state, "infringements to creating and performing their craft" and as a result are able to create their own power in ways no performing artist has ever done before and since. Thunder and Lightning is the only world-renowned band to perform solely live, and also does not charge an admission fee for fans to attend their utterly unrehearsed concerts. No restrictions are placed on recordings of T&L performances, either. Take that and smoke it, GD GD.

I didn't have the good fortune to announce Barb's cameo appearance. Actually, nobody was tapped to announce her entrance. Learning about that gotcha, I figured my job was to get Barb to hang around long enough to overcome her stage fright. As you can imagine, it isn't easy living up to the billing of a group called Thunder and Lightning, who unleash their fair share of decibels and lumens on such a massive stage. It was particularly hard for me to encourage Barb to add her interpretive elements to the show. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not big on interpretive dance. Just try to get me to observe an ecumenical interpretive dance, in particular. Won't happen. I just don't see what those bible-prancers are trying to portray. Anyway, I took one for the good of the team and convinced Barb to dance however she felt was right. You'll hear the outcome, starting 43 seconds into the recording below. She was amazing. Never saw her move like that before. Truth be told, I had to give Barb oxygen for a while after her performance. She put that much effort into wildly dancing down a hallway. She gave a very convincing effort. Possibly a Golden Decibel award winning performance.  

About the recording, T&L played more than 60 songs during a 30 minute span. They played for more than 6 hours, though not always at the frenetic pace throughout. You do the math. What I have included is a five minute compilation of their greatest hits. While you listen you will realize that this band plays to a way different beat. Thunder and Lightening creates a show unlike any you have seen or heard, and no two songs are identical.

P.S. During my next attempt, I going to try recording Thunder and Lightning in stereo so you'll hear the sound stage that this band creates. They figured out how to bounce a portion of their sounds off mountainsides, creating a natural reverb that is simply amazing to behold. I'll let you know if I manage to capture the full fidelity of their performance. Until then... enjoy.

And one more thing: If you attend a performance by Thunder and Lightning, be prepared to get wet. Those dudes can really perspire while performing.

I have always been fascinated with lightning storms but Seattle, where I grew up, never had many. I looked forward to our summer trips to Pittsburgh because there was always at least a couple thunder storms when we visited. I remember watching my cousins huddled around their parents legs during storms, wondering what they were hiding from. I was mad the adults wouldn't let me stand outside, instead forced to experience the show from inside a house while looking through a window.

While in my early 20's, three friends and I were playing a round of golf at Jefferson Golf Course in Seattle. We were on the back nine when we saw a rare thunder storm form to the north east. We had a great view of it. Seeing a flash, we counted. One mongoose one, one mongoose two, one mongoose.... waiting to hear the thunder. By our reckoning lightning was dancing 8 to 15 miles in the distance, so we teed off.

Walking down the fairway, the hair on my legs and arms suddenly stood straight up. I wasn't the only one who felt it happening. We all looked at each other, seeing hair on everyones head looking like we had just stuck our fingers in a lamp socket. Even the air tasted different. Unlike anything experienced before. Weird.

(Seattle always looks like this. Lightning optional, fees apply. Photo is stolen from KOMO-TV web site who stole it from the University of Washington web site who probably stole it from an employee of either or from a student. Shit may hit the fan but so what? I ain't making a dime off this blog so let 'em all complain. Besides, I took communications law classes at the UW long before the internet existed and know I'm on shaky legal ground using the photo, but am risking it anyway with no principle in mind at all.)

We didn't get much time to wonder about the strange stuff going on before a blinding light flashed. Almost immediately the loudest sound you have ever heard deafened us all. We dove to the ground. Pure instinct. We could feel small objects hitting us while we covered our heads with our arms, golf bags and empty beer cans. At that moment we realized it was a lightning strike near by. It didn't take long to see how lucky we were. We spotted a tree, a mere hundred and fifty feet away, splintered into three large pieces. Broken branches and pieces of wood were scattered across the fairway.

Being that close to a lightning strike leaves an impression. I still enjoy watching lightning storms, even more since my close encounter. Like a dog that keeps checking out a porcupine after getting a snoot-full of quills. A veterinarian told me that once, while taking quills out of my dog's face. If a dog doesn't get quilled in their first encounter they will avoid porcupines. But get quilled once and a dog will keep going after a porcupine. When it comes to lightning storms, I'm a quilled dog. Always mindful of my fairway encounter, I prefer to watch a lightning storm from beneath safe shelter.

Tuesday afternoon there was a racket going on outside so I looked out the window. Small balls of hail were falling. Then a flash. And then another. And another. A lightning storm! Cool! I grabbed my microphone, recorder and headphones, hoping to capture the sound of thunder. News reports later announced that an inch of rain fell in thirty minutes, and a thousand lightning strikes had been measured during the storm that afternoon and evening.

I wouldn't doubt it. It rained like hell and I could see flashes often. As it turns out, I was fortunate to use the rig with the dead mongoose on it, the poor animal we accidentally ran over in Hawaii so we ate it and I use the skin to wrap around microphones to control wind buffeting sounds.

Outside our back door I adjusted the gain for the short shotgun mic to best capture thunderclaps heard three to eight miles away. Satisfied I was getting a decent recording, I slipped the headphones off my ears to listen naturally. The sound of thunder was rolling left to right, then right to left, then back again. Over and over. Damn! If I had grabbed my stereo mic instead I could be recording the sound as it moved around. What a sound stage that would be.

A bright flash took my mind off the stereo mic and how good dead mongoose meat tastes. Lightning had struck nearby. Probably less than a half mile away. I managed to say "one m..." before the sound hit. You can "see' the lightning below (click on it to see a larger image if you wish).

The lightest colored squiggly lines of the graph is what the sound of rain looks like. The darker sections with taller peaks is thunder from three to five miles away. The darkest part (at 51 seconds) is the thunder that was close by. Really close. There was too much gain for a sound so loud and close to the mic. You can see the first second and a half of the thunderclap is badly clipped. But by listening it becomes abundantly clear that nature has one hell of a reverb plug-in at its fingertips for use.

A recording of the thunder is below (1:12 minute long). Don't know about you, but the sound heard sparks my curiosity of lightning storms even more. Acid rock bands got nothin' on a good thunderclap.

Won't go on and on about the Respect Network. Right now the Respect Network is mostly a promise with usefulness still to come. But it is a promise worth pursuing. More can be learned from Doc Searles and Peter Vander Auwera.

Will just ask that you check it out. You can dig deep if you need to.

I signed up both Barb and I on the first day the network was available to the public, because I believe in the mission. Not selfishly for myself or Barb. For all of us.

Germany, Brazil and France have objected to the vacuum-everything tactics of the NSA. Why are our news organizations talking about NSA revelations far less than news organizations abroad, and their citizens? The best coverage of what the NSA is doing is found in the UK, Germany and France.

Many, and I fear most, of our representatives in Congress don't care about protecting our Constitutional rights. US news organizations care - if their reporters are targeted. So how do we contribute to, and vote for, our representatives who live in Germany, Brazil and France?

Also, ran across this tidbit published by the NY Times. Public perception of why Congress is unable to resist money from special interests has been that lobbyists roam the halls of Congress and the White House buying favors while checks accidentally fall out of lobbyist pockets. While that was likely the case, now the process has become a two way street even for lobbyists. 

Ever heard of tollbooths, milker bills, and double milker bills? I hadn't. Turns out those rascals in our government figured out how to grab donations by floating legislation they know has no chance of passing (only 5% of proposed legislation passes). Reformed lobbyist Jack Abramoff has wrote about how often lobbyists spend ducking calls from senators and congressmen, knowing the person calling is trying to raise funds for reelection campaigns. I never imagined that lobbyists actually spend more time fleeing calls from members of Congress than being anxious to talk with them.

Rampant crony capitalism in Washington D.C. guarantees there will never be a free market system in this country - even if you believe such a philosophy is best.

Residents of Kauai, one of our two homes away from home, the second being Manhattan, Kansas of all places, helped pass legislation which limits GMO experiments taking place on the island. It is a watered down version that Kauai Islanders didn't prefer, but of course, industry spokesmen rolled out their usual load of drivel.

"DuPont, which fought to defeat the bill, was disappointed it passed, and may sue to block its implementation, said spokesman Josh St. Peters. We believe it to be bad policy - and the kind of regulation that should remain at the state and federal level, where policy makers and agencies are already empowered with oversight of our industry, he said. We believe that the bill is not legally defensible and we continue to evaluate all of our business and legal options."

Yep. GMO proponents are pissed that control isn't being placed in Federal and State legislatures where they can easily buy approval for their costly to us and profitable for them methods. They don't like having to deal with people who will actually be harmed by their action. No way, no how, if they can possibly avoid it.

And then this: "But testifying at the hearing, BASF representative Kirby Kester said that passage of the bill was unwarranted because there is no evidence the companies are doing any harm. And prior to the meeting, Mark Phillipson, spokesman for Syngenta Hawaii, said the industry was committed to a safe environment. "We abide by high standards to create a safe environment for our workers, our neighbors and the community," Phillipson said."

Which is shorthand for: Coercing those renegade islanders, numbering in the thousands and who are difficult to identify even with NSA's help, cost more to eradicate and put up a tougher fight than those guys on the Hill "representing" the people.

The GMO industry would also prefer to hide behind the cloak of "prove we're doing harm", rather than having to prove they aren't doing harm (as regulations in the EU require for many industrial/medical settings).

The upshot is, to the GMO industry them islanders sure are a frisky bunch. And look every bit the part of being dyed in the wool eco-terrorists. Who would you trust more? A DuPont spokesman, or a rascal like...

Barb and I visited the Island of Hawaii recently to get away from the Rogue Valley smoke and heat, our "home base" on the island being a resort on the western shore just south of Kailoa-Kona. We have lots of pictures to share, some ninety-plus of them if Posthaven will allow that many (it did!). I won't describe each photo, opting instead to post (with scant explanation) groups of pics by districts as the Hawaiians know them. But first....

Out of curiosity set an airfare alert last spring with the travel site, Kayak - which is a great service, by the way. Have used them since before they advertised and became well-known. We bought our tickets (coach) at the second lowest point during the 26-odd weeks spent tracking prices (one alert sent per day). It's mind blowing how the airlines screw with prices, though. A couple who booked their flight just one day after we did paid $320 more. If tickets were bought five days after we did, the lucky pair paid nearly $600 more for their seats. Same flights, same day, same seating, same ticket restrictions. Yeah, I know. The airline Jerks In Charge call it price optimization or some such thing. I call it conniving robbery. Here's what happened to prices a few days after we bought our tickets. The price we paid is far below the "low" seen between August 14 to August 22. Lower than all, actually, with the exception of two days in March.

Kohala District

The northwest corner of the island, closest point to Maui. You'll find cute, hard scrabbled villages with a working class feel. Beaches are primarily filled with locals. Hwy 270 takes you along the beach from Kawaihae to Hawi, the King Kamehameha statue, and ends at Polulu Valley Lookout. If you want the most direct route east to Honokaa, you'll have to hike across steep hills and valleys. Good luck with that. Waimea, the biggest city in this district, is near the intersection of Highways 19, 250 and 190 and is bordered by ranches. There are lots of state parks to choose from along Hwy 19, which runs near the western shore.

It wasn't until moving to Southern Oregon that I learned what it is like to live in a forest fire zone. Western Washington has forest fires, but nothing like what the dry woods of Southern Oregon offers. This morning, on a hot and cloudless day as is common this time of year, the nearby hills had a thin haze of smoke surrounding them. (The shots below were taken at 6:48PM)

By afternoon, the hills were invisible to the naked eye, and everywhere you look has a orange glow. Such is life when a forest fire rages. This time, the Douglas Fire. Located about 40 miles or so north of Ashland, the fire was started by lightning. Fifty four strikes were recorded. A few fires joined before they could be doused, leading to a growing fire.

The smoke sure makes for a spectacular looking "sunset" visible for many hours. By the time the sun is near the usual sunset time, it's invisible. The fire is still growing, so smoke will be hanging around the valley for a while.

A quick housekeeping note: My blog was hosted on Posterous, which was bought a year ago by Twitter and the inevitable happened. Posterous will shut down on April 30, 2013. Fortunately, nothing will change because this blog has been moved to Posthaven, except for those  who subscribe to this blog. I expect subscriptions (and a RSS feed, I hope) will be added reasonably soon, but until that happens you'll have to check in manually at this URL or watch for cross-posts to Facebook.

On a related note, I urge you to check out Posthaven (or Squarespace). Everybody should have a on-line space they can call their own. Preferably mapped to a custom URL, but is not absolutely necessary (that link is Barb's new personal URL). Posthaven is not only working to make it possible to have a place you call yours, but to also avoid the blog-shuffle that happens when a BigCo like Twitter decides your work needs to disappear.

I know choosing a paid service seems quaint in a world of free, but think about what free really means. You allow a company to sell you as their product, to companies who then use that information to sell more shit to you. I long ago swore off buying brand-name clothing as much as possible, simply because I didn't like my body being a billboard for an already hugely profitable company built on the backs of underpaid and mistreated workers - usually in third world countries. Yeah, I know. But their pay is soooo much better than they have ever been able to find. Think of that, the next time workers die in a building that collapses or burns to the ground, all so you can save ten bucks buying a t-shirt.

Doing much the same on-line makes sense to me. If you really want to see with your own eyes the mind-boggling amount of information companies collect from you on-line, of which only a tiny portion you know about, install a blocker like Ghostery in your browser. Ghostery isn't an ad-blocker. Instead, it monitors or rejects tracking that you can control. I originally set Ghostery to block every category it watches: advertising, analytics, beacons, privacy, and widgets. Many web sites became nearly unusable. Geez! I had no idea there was so much tracking embedded across the web. Downright scary when you see it in action live. So stick it to the man. Give Ghostery, or something like it, a try in your browser. Being anonymous when and where you want is not an act you should have to beg for.

Yeah, I know. Enough already. Am being preachy. Have just been feeling really outraged at seeing how often companies push people around, track them, cut 'em off, avoid paying taxes with every means possible and buy politicians (TED Talk video) to keep the cycle moving along, leaving us to pay for picking up the pieces. If you really want to learn a lot of what is going on in the world, check out Richard Stallman's site. He's a flaming liberal and a half, many characterize him as a communist, but don't let that be your go, no-go decision. Read what he points to, follow the links revealed, then make up your own mind about issues raised. You won't regret it.

So I'll wrap up with something nicer. A picture of Barb and her dad.

If you have never visited Alaska, here is your chance to get a glimpse of what part of the Alaska panhandle looks like: Ketchican, Juneau, Skagway…. plus Vancouver Island and Victoria, B.C. in Canada, and a glimpse of my hometown, Seattle.

Download the movie here, stored on my public Dropbox account: AlaskaPanhandle2012.mov

Note: Damned glitches. Just tried playing the linked file on my computer and noticed two nasties exposed themselves: The resolution of the streamed version is lousy. This is why I hate doing video on-line, too many freaking variables to account for. Also, when I tried playing the video the streaming version cut off part-way through the show – roughly half way through. Downloading the file (6.01 GB), then playing it should solve both problems. /gst

Photographing the panhandle was a challenge. To begin with, all shots were taken with either an iPhone 4 or Nikon S8000 point and shoot camera. I’m still trying to adapt, and not doing very well, to using viewer-less, compact, automatic cameras. Plus, the scenes in Alaska are enormous. It’s hard to to do justice to both the infinite variety of detail and big-picture grandeur that is everywhere one looks.

Even more challenging, we were mostly on either a cruise ship or shore excursions so I didn’t have time to to stalk scenes as I normally would. One has to make instant decisions and live with them. Toss in the constantly changing weather, which meant lighting conditions changed rapidly and… well, it was one big challenge to capture and do right. Some photos are slightly out of focus. Others aren’t but look like they are, because they were shot through a downpour of rain while holding the tail of my coat over the camera.

I also didn’t record as much audio as I typically do on trips. So instead I added recordings made of friends who are talented musicians (the last two songs are obviously commercially produced). A good set of speakers or headphones would be a bonus.**

Enough with the caveats, already. Enjoy the tour

P.S. Barb is the 60 year-old dark haired gal in the photos, her younger sister has the lighter brown hair. The clean shaven guy is Barb’s sisters husband, and I’m the scruffy, balding mess wearing glasses and hearing aids who is mercifully rarely seen.

** The piano songs are composed and performed by Kim Levy, the youngest daughter of our friend Kathy. Kim is a self-taught pianist whose skills were honed when she was accepted to a school in Los Angeles. Must be a pretty good school, as one of her classmates was the son of Stevie Wonder. Kim only recently learned to read music. She's one of those musicians who can nail a song, playing by ear, after listening to a song performed only a couple times.

Our friend, Steve Fain and his string bass, plays on the jazz tracks with the Charlie Pagani Trio, a local group of musicians who play at bars around the area. Steve also plays with other groups and at his church. He's not only a joy to listen to, but also to watch. Steve plays with enthusiasm that is obvious to the eye.

Don't know why the idea struck me as so damned funny. Barb and I were talking about how our psychotic cat is starting to act like a normal cat now that he is around nine years old. Barb asked when I thought it would become totally normal, so I simulated a cat with all fours pointed skyward. The cat doesn't stand a prayer of ever acting like a normal cat.

One thought lead to another and another, and it wasn't long before I was laughing over a phrase that sprang to mind. Happens often. I laugh hardest and longest at my own jokes.

Anyway, I want Barb to put this phrase on my tombstone (or plaque, actually, as I want to be burned into a tiny, tidy easy to transport and store package):

"Finally, he listened."

              ~Barb

Let people who stumble across the phrase decide what it means.