(no subject)
With the hopeful exception of ikahana, most of you probably didn't notice that I tried to make a comeback into the world of livejournal last night. Fueled by St. Bernardus and, uh, little else, I started a somewhat well-intentioned post that descended into gibberish by the end, and in a moment of clarity I decided to delete everything I wrote last night (including a comment I left to hedorah, in case you were wondering). I blame it all on John Fahey, whose How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life I am currently reading, with its beautifully absurd prose.
That said, its been a month since I've written so I stupidly tried to play catch-up. I've decided if I ever intend to keep this thing alive, it won't be by telling you all what I did last Tuesday or what appetizer is best to get at Kyma (well...the vinegar-marinated octopus, since you just had to know). So I'll pick one topic from last night's post and elaborate solely on that. But what shall it be?
So we decided to celebrate our Thanksgiving weekend (a mere regular weekend, as I had to work that Friday) by taking a road trip to Tuscumbia, Alabama. No, we didn't know where it was either. But as I learned a few months ago, one of S' role models in life has been Helen Keller, and if you're savvy in your state quarter knowledge you should know she was born in Alabama. We found Tuscumbia on the map, about 5 hours away from Atlanta, so we decided it'd be a good road trip.
And even more surprising, I saw on the map that Tuscumbia was next to Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Muscle Shoals is synonymous with a lot of classic music from the late 60s and early 70s, as a lot of soul and rock/pop musicians recorded some massive hits there. Most people are probably aware of Muscle Shoals due to Lynyrd Skynyrd's shoutout in "Sweet Home Alabama", but everyone from Wilson Pickett to Jimmy Cliff to the Rolling Stones had recorded there. The studio was put on the National Registry Of Historic Places earlier thi year and they apparently gave tours, so it seemed like a perfect trip combination.
After spending the night in Birmingham, we drove through the farmlands and eventually made it to Ivy Green, Helen's plantation birthplace. While Tuscumbia itself is a very sleepy town nowadays, it appears to have boomed a bit in the 50s as it resembles a suburbia that all of the kids eventually got the hell away from. Surprisingly this suburbia extends itself right to Ivy Green (so named because, uh, there was a lot of ivy) so its a pretty modest yard compared to what one imagines when they think of plantations. Nevertheless, the Kellers were quite well-off, and they had to have been or else Helen would have never had the chances she had to learn how to overcome the difficulties in her life.
That said, I know virtually jack about her life. Sad as it is, my image of her was as a proto-Tommy who overcame a lot of life's adversity and was eventually awarded with a display of humanitarism and a spot on the back of Alabama's state quarter. Let's hear it for the American private school system! S was absolutely shocked when I relayed this to her. Apparently Helen Keller is a giant of folklore in Japan, and to prove the point we actually have children's books about her from S' childhood in our apartment. The museum bore this out as half the memorabilia in there came from Nihon, and in fact the next couple who arrived at Ivy Green after us were another mixed family. So S would ask the tour guide "is that THE dining table?" and "where's the water pump?" and I'd be thinking "hey, isn't that the chair she's sitting on in the quarter?"
Almost immediately upon the conclusion of our visit, a certain Franks-APA friend from Mississippi showed up who agreed to drive over to meet us for lunch in downtown Tuscumbia. We found an Italian place that seemed a bit out of sync with the perpetual drawl over the rest of the city, but it was an enjoyable time with good company. Our young college-student waitress was named Betsy Spangler, which to me sounds like the perfect neocon porn star name. I digress. Let's pray Ms. Spangler is not a self-Googler.
We said goodbye to our friend, and discovered there was a nice park near downtown so we decided to go there for A-chan's sake. At 14 months, she's starting to enjoy the world around her, so she lived it up on the sliding board and a train that traverses the park and the merry-go-round. The merry-go-round was blasting out old 60s "good times and great oldies" style music that wasn't quite as overplayed, such as the monkees' "a little bit me, a little bit you" and every time a new one would start up A-chan would start getting her little groove on. It warms my heart to see how much she loves music (she really enjoyed my current listening-to music tonight, by the way).
And after a few hours at the park, we headed for Muscle Shoals. The studio really is in the middle of nowhere. And it looks exactly as it did way back when Cher recorded a reportedly funky album there. In fact, that blue sign identifying the address is the only indication that this studio is the place. A little gravel lot beside the studio had one truck there, so we had no idea if they'd even be open. S went to ring a doorbell, which she did 3 times, and then the recording engineer came out and welcomed us in for the tour.
The studio seemed to have fallen into disrepair at the end of the 70s, and it was basically a relic on the verge of destruction until the engineer rediscovered the place at the end of the 90s. Water damage was the worst of its troubles, which he attended to, and in the meantime he has been bringing in some of the vintage equipment that was used to record so many classic songs here. He showed us a brief video that encapsulated the history, utilizing the sound system in the progress. And surprisingly, no matter how many thousands of times you've heard it, when you see grainy footage of the Stones driving to the studio, with much of the scenery the same, and the speakers are blasting out "Brown Sugar" at an alarming level, and you realize that it was actually cut in this 700-square-foot room, it gets pretty exciting. And the hits roll on. The engineer claims that more #1 songs came from this studio than any other place on earth, and while that may be hyperbole the case is pretty convincing when the names start rolling on. The Stones' "Sticky Fingers", George Harrison (All Things Must Pass), Bob Dylan (uh, Slow Train Coming, but still, Bob Dylan), Rod Stewart, Paul Simon, Derek & The Dominoes, Archie Bell, RB Greaves, Stax/Volt (80% of their songs were recorded here, he said), and of course Skynyrd among countless others. It took on even more significance in knowing how desolate the surroundings were (and to top it off, it was a dry county back in the day), as its almost inconceivable to imagine Keith Richards searching for a fix in Tuscumbia. And the fact that we had the full attention of the studio gave it a very hallowed air, not like the tourist attraction of Sun Studios (enjoyable though it may be). I imagined a night in 1971 on Jackson Highway at sunset, with the occasional car driving by the shack while the Stones were rocking out on "Bitch" or "Sway" for the first time ever, and I actually got chills. And I'm not even a real Stones fan!
And with that, we got some pictures taken outside the studio (sorry, too lazy to load them now) and then we headed back to Birmingham for the night. We then woke up early thanks to our human alarm clock (although she is sleeping much much better now, I should add) and it was back to Atlanta.
And maybe I'll start writing in here more often if I can keep to just one subject at a time. At the very least, it gives you the option of knowing what you can skip over depending on your interest. Always thinking of the people, I is...
That said, its been a month since I've written so I stupidly tried to play catch-up. I've decided if I ever intend to keep this thing alive, it won't be by telling you all what I did last Tuesday or what appetizer is best to get at Kyma (well...the vinegar-marinated octopus, since you just had to know). So I'll pick one topic from last night's post and elaborate solely on that. But what shall it be?
So we decided to celebrate our Thanksgiving weekend (a mere regular weekend, as I had to work that Friday) by taking a road trip to Tuscumbia, Alabama. No, we didn't know where it was either. But as I learned a few months ago, one of S' role models in life has been Helen Keller, and if you're savvy in your state quarter knowledge you should know she was born in Alabama. We found Tuscumbia on the map, about 5 hours away from Atlanta, so we decided it'd be a good road trip.
And even more surprising, I saw on the map that Tuscumbia was next to Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Muscle Shoals is synonymous with a lot of classic music from the late 60s and early 70s, as a lot of soul and rock/pop musicians recorded some massive hits there. Most people are probably aware of Muscle Shoals due to Lynyrd Skynyrd's shoutout in "Sweet Home Alabama", but everyone from Wilson Pickett to Jimmy Cliff to the Rolling Stones had recorded there. The studio was put on the National Registry Of Historic Places earlier thi year and they apparently gave tours, so it seemed like a perfect trip combination.
After spending the night in Birmingham, we drove through the farmlands and eventually made it to Ivy Green, Helen's plantation birthplace. While Tuscumbia itself is a very sleepy town nowadays, it appears to have boomed a bit in the 50s as it resembles a suburbia that all of the kids eventually got the hell away from. Surprisingly this suburbia extends itself right to Ivy Green (so named because, uh, there was a lot of ivy) so its a pretty modest yard compared to what one imagines when they think of plantations. Nevertheless, the Kellers were quite well-off, and they had to have been or else Helen would have never had the chances she had to learn how to overcome the difficulties in her life.
That said, I know virtually jack about her life. Sad as it is, my image of her was as a proto-Tommy who overcame a lot of life's adversity and was eventually awarded with a display of humanitarism and a spot on the back of Alabama's state quarter. Let's hear it for the American private school system! S was absolutely shocked when I relayed this to her. Apparently Helen Keller is a giant of folklore in Japan, and to prove the point we actually have children's books about her from S' childhood in our apartment. The museum bore this out as half the memorabilia in there came from Nihon, and in fact the next couple who arrived at Ivy Green after us were another mixed family. So S would ask the tour guide "is that THE dining table?" and "where's the water pump?" and I'd be thinking "hey, isn't that the chair she's sitting on in the quarter?"
Almost immediately upon the conclusion of our visit, a certain Franks-APA friend from Mississippi showed up who agreed to drive over to meet us for lunch in downtown Tuscumbia. We found an Italian place that seemed a bit out of sync with the perpetual drawl over the rest of the city, but it was an enjoyable time with good company. Our young college-student waitress was named Betsy Spangler, which to me sounds like the perfect neocon porn star name. I digress. Let's pray Ms. Spangler is not a self-Googler.
We said goodbye to our friend, and discovered there was a nice park near downtown so we decided to go there for A-chan's sake. At 14 months, she's starting to enjoy the world around her, so she lived it up on the sliding board and a train that traverses the park and the merry-go-round. The merry-go-round was blasting out old 60s "good times and great oldies" style music that wasn't quite as overplayed, such as the monkees' "a little bit me, a little bit you" and every time a new one would start up A-chan would start getting her little groove on. It warms my heart to see how much she loves music (she really enjoyed my current listening-to music tonight, by the way).
And after a few hours at the park, we headed for Muscle Shoals. The studio really is in the middle of nowhere. And it looks exactly as it did way back when Cher recorded a reportedly funky album there. In fact, that blue sign identifying the address is the only indication that this studio is the place. A little gravel lot beside the studio had one truck there, so we had no idea if they'd even be open. S went to ring a doorbell, which she did 3 times, and then the recording engineer came out and welcomed us in for the tour.
The studio seemed to have fallen into disrepair at the end of the 70s, and it was basically a relic on the verge of destruction until the engineer rediscovered the place at the end of the 90s. Water damage was the worst of its troubles, which he attended to, and in the meantime he has been bringing in some of the vintage equipment that was used to record so many classic songs here. He showed us a brief video that encapsulated the history, utilizing the sound system in the progress. And surprisingly, no matter how many thousands of times you've heard it, when you see grainy footage of the Stones driving to the studio, with much of the scenery the same, and the speakers are blasting out "Brown Sugar" at an alarming level, and you realize that it was actually cut in this 700-square-foot room, it gets pretty exciting. And the hits roll on. The engineer claims that more #1 songs came from this studio than any other place on earth, and while that may be hyperbole the case is pretty convincing when the names start rolling on. The Stones' "Sticky Fingers", George Harrison (All Things Must Pass), Bob Dylan (uh, Slow Train Coming, but still, Bob Dylan), Rod Stewart, Paul Simon, Derek & The Dominoes, Archie Bell, RB Greaves, Stax/Volt (80% of their songs were recorded here, he said), and of course Skynyrd among countless others. It took on even more significance in knowing how desolate the surroundings were (and to top it off, it was a dry county back in the day), as its almost inconceivable to imagine Keith Richards searching for a fix in Tuscumbia. And the fact that we had the full attention of the studio gave it a very hallowed air, not like the tourist attraction of Sun Studios (enjoyable though it may be). I imagined a night in 1971 on Jackson Highway at sunset, with the occasional car driving by the shack while the Stones were rocking out on "Bitch" or "Sway" for the first time ever, and I actually got chills. And I'm not even a real Stones fan!
And with that, we got some pictures taken outside the studio (sorry, too lazy to load them now) and then we headed back to Birmingham for the night. We then woke up early thanks to our human alarm clock (although she is sleeping much much better now, I should add) and it was back to Atlanta.
And maybe I'll start writing in here more often if I can keep to just one subject at a time. At the very least, it gives you the option of knowing what you can skip over depending on your interest. Always thinking of the people, I is...