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Música de Semana

Lennon/Stones I saw 2 documentaries on TV this last week. One was "Imagine," which I thought was a really good documentary about John Lennon; it was put together in 1988. It made me miss John. The other was the 1982 Stones concert film directed by Hal Ashby in 1982, and I thought it basically stunk. This from a long-time Stones fan. It looked to me like a bad time in their musical lives. Mick's prancing not just weird, but creepy. It looked like everyone was coke- or speed-fueled.
The Wrecking Crew My musician son Will got me a ticket to a screening in a few weeks in San Francisco of the 2008 documentary, The Wrecking Crew. They were a mostly unheralded group of musicians who played backing for the Beach Boys, Sonny & Cher, the Mamas and Papas, and were Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. It's hard to see this, as it's never been released (I think they can't get funding to pay for copyright permissions for all the songs) and I'm excited to be able to see it.
Grooveshark I've said it before, but this is a tremendous resource for music lovers. You can play any song or any album. Not download, but play. I'm surprised by how complete it is.

Skateboard Blues - Hittin the Road Jack

Crash My skateboard falls usually occur when I'm tired, at night or in late afternoon. Tuesday night I was skating, using my Big Kahuna stick. It's like a pavement paddle, about 6' long, with a rubber stopper at one end and you use it to scoot along. WELL, I guess it was a eucalyptus pod, my board stopped and I didn't. Fell backward, landed on wrist and elbow on pavement -- pretty intense shoulder pain. There are 2 foremost things in my mind when I fall and am lying there: First, how badly am I hurt? Second, did anyone see me? (hoping not). It's now a few days later and the shoulder is a bit better. Ah me. I ain't givin up. Not yet.
Deek Pic is of me and Deek Diedrickson, author of the unique tiny house book, Humble Homes, Simple Shacks, Cozy Cottages, Ramshackle Retreats, Funky Forts, and Whatever the Heck Else we could Squeeze in Here. Deek's not only an author, but artist , raconteur, and one of the most active guys in the tiny homes movement. We met for a beer at The Pelican Inn in Muir Beach a few weeks ago.
Music du jour: Mike Auldridge. Album: "Dobro, Blues, & Bluegrass." http://shltr.net/QuNoM8

Tiny Home With Metal Siding in Texas

"…A minimal dwelling retreat consisting of a mere 320 square feet. As a retreat for thoughtful repose, the Marfa lightbox embraces the site and landscape of the south west. Offering unique connections to the local landscape and the landscapes beyond, including the stellar and fictional."
http://shltr.net/tinysteel

© Candid Rogers Studio/ Chris Cooper Photography

Car Tent For Stealth City Camping



"The car tent is a tent designed to look like a car cover, so you can go camping in the city without being disturbed. And really, who doesn't go camping in the city? When you get hungry you just shoot a business man and cook him over an open flame. Delicious!" http://shltr.net/OEYL5T
From Manfred Flemme

High School Student Builds Own Tiny Home

http://faircompanies.com/videos/view/teen-tiny-house-builder-austin-hay-finishes-dorm-on-wheels/

Small, Flat-bottomed Sailboat

"It was the dream of returning to those simple pleasures that inspired thoughts of S.C.A.M.P. (Small Craft Advisor Magazine Project). That and a persistent desire to go over "there" - that place we often see but are unable to reach. It seems to happen on every cruise. Never mind that we're usually sailing the smallest boat around for miles, we always come upon some ultra-shallow lagoon or serpentine tidal stream that disappears into the reeds, trees and rushes. To get in there - to really commune with nature - a boat needs to be light, shallow and easily propelled - and preferably flat-bottomed in case we decide to stay right though the ebb." http://shltr.net/XiEEvv
Sent us by Lynne

Life Underneath the Surface

There was a piece of smoked salmon in the frig that sat there too long and went moldy. As I buried it in the compost pile, I thought about how, in a short time, the worms and microorganisms would turn it into black, fresh smelling soil. Every food scrap from our kitchen for over 40+ years has now been incorporated into garden soil.
   A few weeks ago, I buried some freeze-dried packets of food and an apple inside a paper bag in sand dunes, so that I could get to it on my hike. Just 2 days later, when I dug it up, something had chewed through the paper bag and eaten about 1/4 of the apple. I looked out over the 4-mile long sandy beach and realized that there is life beneath the surface as far as the eye could see, based on the life I found in that one square foot of sand.
   On the subject of gardens, I'm often amazed that when you plant seeds, the plants shown on the seed packet sure enough do grow. The seeds are instruction packets for the elements, telling soil, sun, air and water what to form.
   I got about 4 hours of sleep last night. I'm pretty comfortable in the back of my truck. I sleep in neighborhoods away from street lights, never at the beach or other cop-patrolled areas. It's a beautiful sunny fall day in Santa Cruz, I'm down here to go to a surprise birthday party for an old and dear friend.

Small Craft Advisor

More here.

From my seafaring pal, Canadian artist Godfrey Stephens

Charlie Musselwhite in Santa Cruz

After the reunion, which I really enjoyed, I went out to Ocean Beach and ran for an hour on the sunny sand. (October is really our best time of the year.) Fiddled around in SF until 10 or so, called my son Will in Santa Cruz (where I was heading for the next day) and asked him who was playing at Moe's Alley, one of my all time favorite clubs. "Charlie Musselwhite." Whoo! I hot pedaled it to S. Cruz and caught Charlie's last 2 numbers, which included Christo Redemptor, and Charlie and band were in fine form. Then Will and I had an beer in another tavern. It's now, ahem, 3:09 AM and I'm at Ferrell's 24-hour donut shop with wi-fi and preparing to go sleep in the back of my truck for the few hours until sunrise. I love Santa Cruz for a lot of reasons. I was conceived here. I was a beach lifeguard in the mid-50s. I surfed here when there were no wetsuits and surfing was not crowded. When I was at Stanford, I arranged my classes so I was through for the week at noon onThursday, and would ride my Harley 45 over to SC and stay until Sunday night.

Today: 60th High School Reunion in San Francis

Boy, how do I describe the last 16 or so hours? Got up at 5AM, went to Cafe Roma In San Francisco, then around noon to the 60th reunion of my class of Lowell High School, SF,1952 at the St. Francis Yacht Club. Here are a few pictures of people, and a few pages of Roz's scrapbook. In the group at the bottom, I'm at the right with my date, Bobbie Brazier, totally cute sister of my best friend, John Brazier.