Rock-tober: Day 5

The Marshall Tucker Band has been around for a loonnngg time, and this longevity has established them as one of the greats of the Southern Rock genre. I saw them twice. Once at Oak Mountain Amphitheater near Birmingham and the other at some smoke filled bar in Columbus, GA. At both (very different) venues, these guys came across as very down to earth, friendly, and highly appreciative of their fans, and both times they put on an a kick ass show. At the Columbus venue, the end of one song just melted into a 30 minute, free-form jam session.

"Can't You See" was released waaayy back in 1973. Originally it didn't do very well on the charts, but the song had amazing staying power and today it's a staple on any reputable classic rock station. Great songs are relatable to every generation, and every guy out there at some point in his life will be able to relate to this song's lament.

For you local peeps, the Marshall Tucker Band will be playing locally at Ram's Head in Annapolis on December 12th. Maybe I'll see you there.

Rock-tober: Day 4

Drivin' N Cryin' came out of Atlanta in the mid 80's and was part of a movement including R.E.M. and the Georgia Satellites that was redefining the sound of Southern Rock. During my tenure at Auburn, DNC was red hot and making the rounds of all the southeastern venues. I don't recall them making it to the War Eagle Supper Club, but it didn't matter. You could hear tracks from "Mystery Road" being cranked full blast at every party in town soon after its 1989 release.

The hits off this album were "Straight to Hell" and today's featured song, "Honeysuckle Blue". The immediate guitar frontal assault got my attention quickly. After that, the poignant lyrics take hold:

 "Abandoned by the promised land;

set sail on your own.

How much longer will the well

be dry for those who roam?"

Toss in references to my own fond memories of the south:

• southerly breezes
• blooming dogwoods
• the Blue Ridge Mountains
• and of course, honeysuckle vines

and you've got one of my top Southern Rock ballads.

Rock-tober: Day 3

Bob Seger is not your typical rock star who came through the 80's. No product-laced, teased-up hair jacked to Jesus, no dark eye liner, no leopard print spandex pants. He's a dude's dude, and the soulful, no nonsense grittiness of his voice is that of someone who paid his dues to get where he is.

This was a hard decision. Seger's discography is a large part of all of my classic rock playlists. "Against the Wind", "Night Moves", and "Hollywood Nights" were all contenders, but I comfortably selected "Like a Rock". The older I get, the more I relate to this song. Seger was in his 40's when he wrote it, and the lyrics describe an older guy looking back on his life thus far, mirroring my own internal dialog. Do I have regrets? Sure, but none of them are incapacitating. Have I accomplished all the dreams from my youth? Nope. Some died while others have been changed or tempered and refined by life, and I still believe in them. Oh, and I still have no time for "these hucksters and their schemes".

Seger previously turned down many lucrative Mad Men type offers of corporate sponsorship, not wanting the strings that came attached with those relationships. The story is, an anonymous man changed his mind. Sitting at a bar, a stranger walked up to him and asked, "How come you never do any commercials for the auto companies and help us out a little bit?" The rest is history. Did Chevy actually have better trucks at that time? Debatable, but during one of the longest and most successful ad campaigns in history, Chevy, using "Like a Rock" as their tagline, sold a lot of trucks. Obviously, something about the song resonated with a lot of people. They just figured out something I already knew.

Rock-tober: Day 2

In the late 80's you would only find a few cassette tapes in my car, and Whitesnake's self titled album was one of them. This release was chock full of great tracks, but by far my favorite was "Here I Go Again". When I first heard the opening lyrics, "I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been." I was thinking "Holy crap, this song was written for me. Why, this could be my personal anthem." Pfft. Silly teenager, you have no frackin' clue. A few decades later, the lyrics still resonate, just without all the teenage angst.

Oh, and the video didn't hurt either.

Shortly after we got the '67, I was watching this vid when Andrea was in the room.
"Hey, Andrea, check this out. We could probably..."
"No."
"Wait, it would be pretty cool if..."
"No."
"Seriously, just a few shots is all..."
"No."

She was a good sport about it.

Rock-tober: Day 1

A few years ago, Andrea and I invited another couple over for dinner on Valentine's Day. Andrea was in charge of the menu and I was responsible for the evening's music selection. Drawing on my vast collection, I tried to craft a playlist that featured the softer, romantic side of rock and roll. The finished product was dubbed simply "Valentine's Day Mix", and this was track #1.

At dinner the first course was set, and the wine was being poured. "Hey, Hon, how about starting the music?" asked Andrea. With a knowing smile I hit "play" on the remote with the system cranked to 11. Our female guest jumped out of her chair, hands up ready to fend of some attack. With an utterly confused look on her face, she looks quizzically at me, then at Andrea, then back at me. "Wait. What? That can't be right. What?"

Meanwhile, Andrea's head was in her hands and she was muttering something along the lines of "Oh my word..."

But dude and I were high-fiving and fist bumping the rest of the night.

Brace Yourselves....Rock-tober Is Here!

Sooo.....with today being the 30th and the last day of September, tomorrow starts that month long celebration known as Rock-tober!

Never heard of it? That does not bode well for your street cred. Here's the story. Back in college, the classic rock stations I tuned to showcased a different artist every day of the month during October. It was awesome when ZZ Top was in the spotlight, but a downer when the Doors (never did get them) had their day. This was one of my annoyances. I didn't always dig the day's selection and wished I could stack the playlist in my favor. Fast forward a decade and a half (...maybe 2) and here we are. Since I've been waxing nostalgic of late I've decided reprise this fall tradition of my youth. Starting tomorrow, and continuing for the entire month, I'll regale you with my favorite song from a different artist each day.

Some ground rules:

1. This is my list. If you disagree, make your own bloody list. If I wanted universal appeal, I'd post pictures of kittens.
2. If it was released past 1989, stop looking. It ain't on this list - we're going old school here.
3. An artist can only make the list once. No repeats. No exceptions.

With that, buckle up and enjoy the ride.

My Tree

In the movie "Braveheart", there's a crazy Irishman who claims the entire land mass of Ireland as "my Island". Well, I claim this Y-shaped oak tree standing at the end of Island View Avenue in Long Beach, Mississippi, as "my Oak Tree". When my family moved to Long Beach in 1980, Dad pointed it out on one of our first trips into town as we turned onto Island View from Beach Boulevard (Highway 90 to locals). He told me it was my landmark. Even if it was dark or if I missed street signs, when I saw that Oak Tree, I knew I was almost home.

When I would come home from college, a lot of times I'd take the beach route intentionally just so I could pass by my Tree. Now that I live halfway across the country, passing by my Tree on the way to the house is a ritual. Since Dad's death, on every trip home there are two places I go by myself. Biloxi National Cemetery is one; this corner of Island View is the other.

I have no idea how old my Tree is. I just know it was here way before me, and I hope it'll be around long after I'm gone. It survived Hurricanes Camille, Frederic, Elena, and thankfully Katrina. After the 2005 monster storm, I drove home with supplies to help out family and friends. After making sure everyone was safe, I anxiously waited for the National Guard to lift restrictions on access to the beach - I wanted to make sure my Tree was still standing. It wasn't until a subsequent trip home that I was actually able to get to the end of Island View and see that, indeed, my Tree had weathered yet another storm. Traffic on Beach Highway must have thought I was some environmentalist freak as I actually hugged the Tree.

And I found Dad was right, yet again:
For a while after Katrina, there were no man made structures along Beach Boulevard, no familiar buildings, no street signs. Navigating along the beach was a frustration even for life long residents. However, as soon as I saw my Oak Tree, I knew I could relax. It was my landmark. I was almost home.