There's No Place Like Home

Lizz and I decided to end the Memorial Day weekend - and to celebrate our 19th wedding anniversary - by taking a ride out to the "Nautical Mile" in Freeport to see Brian Halverson and Mark Pohl with their new band, Boomerang. We had run into Bill and Claudia Walsh earlier in the day at the community garden and we're glad that they decided to join us. It was a beautiful day, and we set out in the Mini with the top down and headed to Otto's.

I couldn't remember the last time I had been to Freeport. Lizz and I had been there together, probably way early in our relationship, at least twenty years ago. I had most likely never had been there before. As expected, the place was buzzing. As we pulled into the strip, we had the pleasure of being behind a couple of guys on a couple of rice rockets - which I hope is not an offensive term - who felt the need to rev their engines constantly like a couple of caged lions roaring to be set free.

It was hard to get a grip on what exactly the vibe was - mainly because there were many different vibes happening all at once. Some places were packed, music pumping while others, like a nice looking brewery was almost totally empty. Lot's of different cultures on the street, but sadly it felt more like ships passing cautiously in the night than a melting pot block party. But that could have just been my take.

We arrived at Otto's and we had done a bit of prep work, reading the menu and the various on-line reviews. Based on that, our expectations were low. Sadly, they were right on point.

More on that in a bit. The reason we came was to see the band, and they were a lot of fun. A crazy mix of songs including a few that you definitely won't hear at your local bar. If you can say anything about Brian, it's that he's all in, whether channeling Pet Clark or Michael Jackson. Plus, it's always great to hear and watch Mark behind the kit. That was a good time. So was running into Mark Mancini and his lovely fiancee Josette along with daughter Gracie. It was Mark's birthday, so we all had something to celebrate. One of the things that I love about my friends is that we always manage to make the best of any situation - it always starts with just being able to spend time together and builds on that.

But Otto's was just kinda sad. The staff was just overwhelmed even though there were many empty tables. I don't know what was going on in the kitchen, but I'm pretty sure it was full on panic mode. I read a review that was spot on - they said that they kept expecting Gordon Ramsey to pop up, firing people on the spot and closing the place down for a reboot. One could only hope. I mean the place is obviously a gold mine, great location, people willing to line up to get in - why not even attempt to make them happy?

How Terribly Strange To Be ... 60

My 60th birthday is just about a month away and I can tell you that, without any exaggeration, it really sucks hitting this "milestone." I seemed to have handled all the other "big" birthdays in stride, though I will admit that I had some issues with my 50th, but it was more not wanting to make a big deal of it. Lizz, to her credit, wanted to mark the occasion in some way but I resisted as if by not celebrating the fact it would go away. We ended up having a nice little dinner out with some friends. Actually turning 50 wasn't such of a big deal. I had way too much going on in my world - including a newborn son - to feel anything but alive and fairly well.

The only other birthday that depressed me was my 27th. I just didn't like where I was - physically, spiritually and career wise - at the time. However, it wasn't a long-lasting event as my life was soon to begin a series of interesting, if not successful, changes.

But this one is different. I think I figured out why. When you turn 50 your mind plays a little trick on you. 50 sounds like half-way or fifty percent. Yes, I know most of us don't live to be 100, but you still get a feeling that you've reached a half-way point and that's not bad. Also, most of us are doing pretty good now at 50 in spite of whatever bad habits you may have thanks to modern medicine and a bit of good luck. But now you turn 60 and all you can do with that number is round it up to dead. Plus let's face it - 60 years is long time for anything to last and still be in good working order so the little aches and pains are starting to add up. Then you have the added bonus of watching all of your childhood heroes age badly - the lucky ones, anyway.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a tale of woe. I am having the time of my life. I have a spectacular family. Lizz and I have hit a new stride in our relationship and Liam is just the greatest gift I have ever received. I'm still gainfully employed, still making music with my friends who, by the way, are some of the most interesting and fun folks around. I really have no right to complain about anything.

So unlike my 50th, I decided to embrace this one - big time. One of my old bands from the 80s - The Fabians - had been discussing the possibilities of getting back together and I was able to coincide it with my upcoming birthday. A bunch of my friends are also going to get up and play so I'll be celebrating with the people I love the most, doing what I love to do. I've also decided to dedicate this year to doing things that I've been putting off for too long. All things said, the sixth decade of my being is off to a pretty good start.

One thing though. AARP can kiss my ass.

Long Live Rock

On the way to see The Who last night it hit me that this could be the last time I was to see them perform as a band. It was the last performance of their US tour and you have to wonder if they would ever be up to another one. So many variables to consider, the least of which is just knowing when to say when. Add the fact that they just spent almost a year playing a massive production of Quadrophenia - a record that was built upon the personalities of the four original members - a show that at times seemed like a career retrospective with archival videos projected on the huge screens and included performances by both John Entwistle and Keith Moon. If this was the note - pure and not so easy - that they would go out on, it would have been a high note to be sure, but it still made me feel a bit melancholy that this might be the wrap up to a relationship that had started when I was a teenager.

 But a funny thing happened on the way to the old Felt Forum. After a blistering set by Elvis Costello, who ran through a parade of classics like the building was on fire, The Who took the stage to perform what was billed as a "greatest hits" show. In actuality, it was little more than the extra songs that they had been playing on the tour to close the shows. But there was a difference last night - a big difference. The huge stage had been stripped down for the smaller venue but the distinct change was that the ghosts stayed backstage. During the tour, one of the highlights of the evening was John Entwistle's bass solo, played "live" thanks to the magic of modern technology as Pino Pallidino, who stepped right into Entwistle's shoes after he passed, respectfully left the stage. However, when they played the song last night, there was no video and it was Pino who brought the thunder. They didn't play "Bell Boy" so Keith's bit wasn't a part of the show, but his god son Zach Starkey made it clear that you can draw a line from the past to the future, bringing something new while embracing the old. Roger was giving his all as he always does. A Who show always lives or dies with Pete, and he was alive and well, going for some of the high notes this time around and wrangling, strangling and slapping his guitar - to the point where I almost thought we might see one meet the stage floor only to be spared at the last moment. 

They had been ending the shows with "Tea and Theater" from "Endless Wire" with only Pete and Roger on stage. That song, with it's retrospective lyrics (we did it all, didn't we?) made you feel that this may be a their swan song. But last night, after ending with "Won't Get Fooled Again," the band lined up across the front of the stage and left us with rock's greatest anthem ringing in our ears.

 It may be all speculation on my part, but it felt as if there was a very conscience effort to show that this was a band with a long history, a loud and proud, history, but that the story is not quite finished. This isn't The Who that was, but The Who that is, here and now and, quite possibly, for another amazing journey somewhere down the line. I know I'm ready for it and as far as The Who - well I can tell you that the kids are alright.

And, we're back ...

It truly is official. I am the world's worst blogger - at least in regard to regular posting. Yet, here I am again, at the beginning of a new year filled with new hope that this will be the start of a regular stream of my thoughts committed to pixels, zeros and ones.

We'll see.

It's January so that means most of my free thoughts are destined to be about Elvis. Not so much about the man himself, but rather about The Elvis Show, a yearly charity event that I host. This will be the third year back at The Boulton Center in Bay Shore, and it looks as if we are headed for yet another sell-out. This year's show is themed "Elvis At The Movies" and consists entirely of songs from his films. I steered clear of the bigger hits - though as the movies progressed there were less and less actual hits involved. We are also doing the entire soundtrack to "King Creole," one of my favorite films and soundtracks.

This year I also picked the songs for most of the performers. I was a bit nervous but it seems like I did a pretty good job. Not going to give out any previews, you'll have to come to the show. We are right in the middle of rehearsals, which always have a festive air about them, extending the holiday season somewhat. This year calls for that extension, more than any other in recent memory. A lot of sad and bad news seemed to be coming from all angles at the end of the year, people passing away, getting sick, all sorts of things. Not to forget about the devastation from Hurricane Sandy and the tragic shooting in Newtown, CT. It seemed like the only news was bad news.

Music has always been there for me whenever I needed to escape from my troubles or validate my actions. That is still the case and I'm hoping that this show will help some friends who have been hit particularly hard recently to at least have a few moments where they can relax and have a laugh or two. God knows they deserve it.

Branches, Trees, Roots

There is a lot of grumbling going on around Long Island as a small army of men and woman go about cleaning up the mess left by hurricane Irene. I was in the dark for three days and it was not a pleasant experience. I can only imagine how difficult it is for those with special needs. Even so I am always surprised by the response of the public to those who did not create this problem, are doing their best to correct it and yet suffer the wrath of those who think that berating these workers will somehow get their lights back on.

Maybe it's me but I can't help but wonder where this attitude has come from. Could it be the endless stream of whiners that flood the airwaves and fill the television screens these days? 

It was thirty years ago that Bruce Springsteen held a benefit show for the Vietnam Veterans. This was Springsteen's coming out party as a true social activist and, as a side note, certainly one of the top-ten shows of his career. If you have a chance to dig it up you'll find it well worth your time. A little known fact is that Springsteen single handedly saved the Vietnam Veterans Association, placing a call to them on the very day that they were going to close up shop due to financial problems and a lack of support. Springsteen opened the show with an exceptionally accurate view of the plight of the Vets and then introduced Robert Mueller, a Vietnam vet, who introduced the event and in a few minutes explained what everything was about in the most eloquent way. The two speeches are short, to the point and truly uplifting.

The band then kicks into John Fogerty's "Who'll Stop The Rain" and from the opening note you can hear that, to a man, the E-Streeters were well aware of the importance of that evening's performance.            

Remembering that night and the mood of the country at that time, Mueller recently said that among the many, many obstacles that the returning vets had to deal with was that they were associated with the war it self instead of soldiers who were just doing their job. The fact is that a great part of why even the most ardent anti-war activists can now separate the troops from the mission is due to the work by the Vietnam Veterans groups.

If you will; don't hate the players, hate the game.

Now it's 30 years down the road and a lot of men and women still have nowhere to run, nowhere to go. But thanks to an August night in 1981 many were able to find a light to lead them out of the darkness and it was Bruce Springsteen, the E-Street Band and rock and roll that led the way. Like I said, check out the show if you can. When rock and roll is delivering a message it can be powerful stuff indeed.

Some guy, who may very well traveled from out of town, who is cutting down branches today somewhere on Long Island is certainly different than a nineteen year old who was sent off to a foreign land to fight for his country, but they are both men with a job to do - and they both deserve your thanks and support.

Why Spotify will change your life - even if you never use it.

When I bought my car a few years ago it came with a 3-month free pass for XM radio, something I had no previous interest in and something that I had said time and time again that I would never subscribe to. Pay for radio? No way. Needless to say that within a week I was hooked and now I live in the Underground Garage and Outlaw Country. I am positively giddy over the fact that they will be adding a 24-7 channel built around Dylan's radio show.

When I first heard of Spotify I didn't see any reason why I would like that any better then the other subscription-based music services like Rhapsody and LaLa. After all, I have a huge music collection - over 50,000 songs in my iTunes library. I definitely embraced downloadable music - I am more than willing to give up the physical aspect of most recordings and when a package is worth buying for, well, the package, I'll buy it. But do I really need to pay for another music service - especially where I am in effect renting the music and not buying it?

Oh yeah.

Spotify delivers, big time. Think of an album or a song you want to hear and there it is. Take a few minutes and build a playlist that will last all day long. But Steve, what about those 50,000 songs of yours? Surely you have enough music to listen to, right?

The beauty here is that Spotify will be different things to different people. For the average person, five bucks a month to listen to whatever you want, whenever you want is a great deal. For people like me - who obviously have collected and purchased music all their life, there is still a great deal of music from their past that has yet to make the transition from vinyl to CD, much less from CD to digital. Its been a blast thinking of older LPs that I haven't bothered to digitize (a "best intentions" scenario if there ever was one), only to have them instantly appear on my desktop.

Right now I'm rocking the free version which lets you listen to as much as you want with short 15 second ads every 15 minutes or so. The five dollar a month buy in takes the ads away and ten bucks gets you the mobile app so you can listen via your phone. The paid versions also let you keep something like 3000 songs off line so you don't need an internet connection - great for traveling and all that.

The thing about subscription services is that eventually the prices will go up and should you decide to drop the service - you lose all of your music. That could certainly suck for some folks, but I have those 50,000 songs to fall back on.

Or I could take a long drive and listen to the XM.

I guess there's just a meanness in this world

I know that there are at least two sides to every story and that, usually, even the most unfathomable circumstances can be explained. As Mr. Holmes said, "Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth." Even so, I will never understand how one human being can inflect pain and injury on another without a real and true reason.

Believe me, I understand justice and I believe in it.

I have a friend who was attacked recently and beaten badly. He was blindsided - the victim of a coward who had only one goal - to do him harm. As I said up top, there may or may not be a reason that drove this madman to commit this crime, but one thing is certain - my friend did nothing to deserve this.

What is that allows a person to leave all reason behind and commit such a senseless act? Is it a chemical imbalance or some sort of bad wiring? Is it simply a lack of understanding of right vs wrong? Is society or his parents to blame? Or is it as Bruce Springsteen sings in "Nebraska" that "there's just a meanness in this world?"

I'm stumped. In the past few weeks, for whatever reason, bad news has affected me in ways that it hasn't before. It's just the sad truth that there is always a sad story in the paper and while they often caused me to pause and consider the family and friends of these unfortunate individuals, lately they linger longer in my thoughts. The nine-year-old boy lured into a car by a stranger. The insanity in Norway. A purse snatching in my hometown just a few blocks from my house. All strangers, but I kept imagining myself or my family in their place. It was if if there was a ever tightening circle of evil that was surrounding us.

Now I've seen it, if not first-hand very, very up close and it has chilled me to the bone.

Awesome!

Lately I find myself surrounded by all things awesome. I can't stop using that word and I've been called out on it a few times. Usually that would give me pause for thought, this time I just paused long enough to realize that I'm right - at this moment in my life there is awesomeness just about everywhere I look.

There is my awesome family, of course. But that's not what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about stuff.

First off my new iPhone. I bought the original on the day it came out and it served me very well. But my new one is AWESOME! I can't get over the quality of the video that I've shot and the photos are much improved as well. I have yet to experience the much reported connection problems and I still got a free case out of the deal - how awesome is that?

On the subject of all things Apple, the iPad is, in a word, awesome! Every week a new app comes out that blows my mind. A couple of weeks ago it was Flipboard which collects content from various sources and presents in a way that could only be delivered on the iPad, including your Facebook feed. This week it's Uzu - a totally awesome time waster that takes full advantage of the iPad's multi-touch capability and lets you create an on-screen "fireworks" display. My awesome six-year-old Liam showed me how to use it.

I recently got a new guitar tuner, the massively awesome PolyTune from TC Electronic. Unlike other tuners, with the PolyTune you just strum all six open strings and it instantly shows you which ones are out of tune! Until you use it, you won't know just how awesome this thing is!

The other day Lizz and I took her parent's out for their birthdays which are a few days apart from each other. We went to brunch at Robke's, where they extend their awesome ten dollar lunch menu with a bunch of black-board specials and a nice selection of five dollar cocktails. We have never been disappointed there and Robke's is the only place that I can truly say that everything on the menu is, well, awesome.

On Friday nights we have been taking advantage of the awesome little free music program in Northport village. This week it was an awesome bluegrass band which we enjoyed as we sat on a bench in the park and watched the awesome sunset frame our beautiful little harbor.

This past weekend my - if I may say this - awesome band, The Blaggards, played out at Nick's in Montauk. The weather, the crowd, the food, the drinks, the bartenders, the ride there and back and our super-talented friends were all absolutely awesome.

You may think that I'm exaggerating a bit with all this awesomality (I just made that word up - just like Sarah, who is most definitely NOT awesome), but believe me, I'm not. I didn't even mention 3D movies, butter your own pop corn, Elvis on the big screen, Stevia sweetened Frappucinos, setting my DVR from my phone, velcro, the NY Yankees, NYRMA, Mick's Fender Acoustasonic amp, $69 1TB hard drives, my new office or the new Elvis guitar picks that Melanie just gave me.

All awesome.

iWant

If you are one of the Apple faithful, then you pretty much think that they are going to change the world once again on January 27th when - if all of the buzz is correct - they announce the release of the mythical Apple tablet, possibly called the iSlate. I don't care what they call it - iWant it.

What has been described as an "overgrown" iPod touch will no doubt be one of the coolest products ever. I had absolutely no problem typing that previous sentence. After all, Apple has only had a few foul balls along the way in what has basically been a home run derby of technology. I have no doubt that I will be floored at what this thing will do besides all of the things I am taking for granted that it will do.

I was one of the first Mac owners. I have probably owned and/or worked on every model they have ever made, with the exception of the 20th Anniversary Mac and the Cube. I bought the original iPod and the iPhone on the day it was released. I own an Apple TV. My entire music library is based around iTunes and just surpassed 40,000 songs. I currently have six Macs in my house, though only 3 are truly in operation.

In the past few years, for whatever reasons, I have slowed down in regards to having the latest and greatest. I have not upgraded my iPhone, it works just fine for me. My last iPod is a bulky monster compared to the new models. My family iMac is - hold your breath - not aluminum. Even worse, since it is not an Intel based model, it won't run the latest OS, making me feel like I'm watching television in black and white when I check my email. While there is nothing to stop me from updating any of these machines I have held back.

But this new, un-seen device? iWant, iWant, iWant!

My wife will roll her eyes and wonder why. But when she gets her hands on it - and then realizes that it can most likely replace the iMac in the living room AND the big cabinet that holds it AND realizes that Liam will not only embrace it instantly but that it will very likely be the model for every computer he may ever use in his lifetime, well she may even admit that it's pretty darn cool.

Whatever it is.

Four, Calling Birds ...

During her holiday interview with President Obama, Oprah Winfrey asked what was his most memorable Christmas gift. For him, it was a basketball given to him by his father the year they met. That led me to ask myself that same question. 54 years of gifts - that is a lot to choose from. I've asked this question to a few friends and, for most of them, the answer doesn't come easily.

Not for me.

Over the years I have received plenty of memorable gifts. The James Bond attache case certainly is up there as I spent a great deal of time and effort trying to replace it, finally doing so last year. I thought I would never get one but I actually did and for much less than I thought it would cost me. That is another story.

For me, the one gift that stands out the most, that had the most profound effect on me and made impressions that still last till this day, was a copy of The White Album by the Beatles. If my parents had any idea about the changes that this record album would bring forth in my life I have no doubt that they would not have slipped under the tree back in 1968.

I had been a Beatles fan since I first heard them, hiding under the covers with my transistor radio. Seeing them on the Ed Sullivan show burned an image in my brain that not only gave me direction as to what I wanted to be and how I wanted to look, but gave me something that I could hold onto and claim as my own. Though their entire catalog would soon be familiar to me as my own skin, but in 1968 I didn't yet own every Beatles album. But this one - with the enclosed photos and poster which immediately went up on my bedroom wall - was special. It was massive - four sides, a collection of songs as diverse as I had ever heard. It would be years before I put together the whole story, how this was the beginning of the end, who actually played on what song and what some of the more arcane and inside references were all about. I was in the moment with this record and once again The Beatles were showing me a different way - actually in this case, many different ways - of how things were done.

It became the soundtrack of my life for what was a pretty incredible year. Men on the moon, Woodstock, Nixon, Vietnam - my 14 year-old brain was processing so much information so fast I am still surprised my head didn't explode. This was the year that the air guitar I had been playing since 1964 turned into a real guitar, an event that certainly was inspired by watching The Beatles on Sullivan and enforced by the White Album (by the way, I know the LP is actually titled "The Beatles" but it will always be the White Album to me). This album also made me realize that quite a few songs were either about or had references to sex - I remember my mom expressing her dissatisfaction from the other side of my bedroom door after hearing "Why Don't We Do It In The Road." It was only then I realized that most of the songs I listened to were actually about sex and even the ones that weren't, kind of were as well.

The White Album also showed me that people change and that change was not a bad thing. Soon we would start putting people into boxes and the concept of an artist embracing so many different styles would be labeled as having a "lack of focus." Like a great book, each time I listened I found something new, a hidden guitar lick or a lyric that I had missed. The musical references, both obvious and obscure, started me down paths that broadened my musical horizon. Similar to the way that the Harry Smith anthologies created a template for so many bands, I believe that The White Album launched another generation in many different directions.

I love the journey that I've been on for the past forty-one years and The White Album certainly has been a huge part of the map. While it may have been the "beginning of the end" for The Beatles, it was a new beginning for John, Paul, George, Ringo - and me.

The Big Night

As we approach my favorite day of the year, Christmas Eve, I find myself in that delicate balance of tradition vs change. This year there will be a little break in regards to tradition as we won't be gathering at my brother Don's house for dinner as we have for the past decade or so. I've always enjoyed the evening at their house - they have this wonderful, huge table that must seat twenty in their dining room and they are gracious hosts. But things are what they are. Thus the element of change - as in a change of location - and that's fine.

What's not going to change is the food. While I always enjoy getting together with the family - all right, while I sometimes enjoy getting together with the family, I have to admit that Christmas Eve is all about the food.

There are many origins of what is called the "feast of the seven fishes" a tradition that has roots in southern Italy. I don't know any of them. I'm not sure if we have seven "fishes" - we can count them later. I didn't pay much attention to this meal for the first 25 years or so of my life, and I am pretty sure it has remained the same for as long as I was around, probably even longer. However, once I came to my senses and realized what I was missing, I vowed never to miss it again and I've stuck to that vow.

For years my parents home - the house I grew up in - was where Christmas Eve was spent. A tiny cape, with no dining room, we managed to have not only our family of six, but as the years went by the numbers grew with assorted aunts and uncles, girlfriends - some of which became wives, leading the way to grand children. All of which crowded into our small living room which became the de-facto dining room, complete with the sofa, christmas tree and television set. It may have been tight, but it was never unbearable and the crowd just added to the spirit of the holiday - and it probably helped keep the house warm!

But the real heat was in the kitchen. This is where my mom cooked for the masses almost single-handedly. My dad's role in the holiday fare was the home-made panettone - a sweet bread that we enjoyed on Christmas morning - but that's another story. My mom's kitchen was - and still is - a one woman show and for years this was her "Big Night."

I've heard other Italians describe their meal and it seems to be more of an homage to gluttony with many breaks with tradition. While my mom served more food than anyone person has a right to eat, nothing is too heavy, no stuffed lobsters or errant trays of baked pasta. This is all about a selection of dishes that could easily stand alone, but work together wonderfully.

For me, this isn't an evening for antipasto. Yes, I'm a fan but there is a lot of food coming my way and I don't want to get filled up on the opening act. Plus, there is dessert on the other side of this pony, so lets just get to the main act. However there is a tray of olives, black and green and some fennel - Finnochio, or as translated into "Italian-American" - feh nook.

The meal begins with spaghetti that has been prepared with garlic, olive oil, anchovies and walnuts. Before you go "ewww … Anchovies!" know this: they are cooked down to be a flavor element of the sauce and the end result is to die for. The mixture is tossed with pasta and served with some of the pasta water on the side. While most people who try this are converted, there is always a bowl of spaghetti with butter and/or garlic and oil for those with less adventurous palettes. Here's a link to a recipe that is very close to my Mom's.

When this dish is right - and it's almost always right - you can just stop there. I have to force myself not to have a third helping ( a second is a given). I still can't figure out why we only eat this simple but incredible dish once a year.

From that plate it becomes all out madness - everything else comes to the table at once:

- Baccala (dried, salted cod that has been reconstituted and is served chilled over a lemony escarole salad). Surprisingly fresh and refreshing, but my least favorite dish.
- Homemade Seafood Salad (Insalata Frutti di Mare) with lobster, calamari, shrimp and Scungilli. Always unbelievable, best I've ever had.
- Scungilli Fra Diaovlo - In a sauce that will have you going through a loaf of crusty italian bread in no time, regardless of how tough or tender the conch may be.
- Flounder Fillets - breaded and fried to perfection. Seems like a bit-player but always welcome on my plate.
- Shrimp Scampi - may be the star of the meal and what garlic may have been invented for. Made in massive quantities to avoid fights.
- Broccoli - the only side dish and only vegetable if you don't count the escarole salad and the celery in the seafood salad. Par-boiled and served cold, tossed with garlic and lemon. Even my five-year old likes broccoli when Grandma makes it.

So, lets count the fish:
-Anchovies
-Cod
-Lobster
-Shrimp
-Flounder
-Scungilli
-Calamari

Whaddya know - Seven!

My mother turned out this meal year after year in her impossibly small kitchen and, as I said, almost single handily. After my father passed away and with my mother getting on a bit, my brother Don began to host the meal. My mother then began to oversee things with Don's wife Lorraine and their Daughter Lynn stepping up and lending a hand.

My mother is a fantastic cook. I can't even order some of the food that she makes in restaurants as I know that I will be disappointed. And as with any kitchen, you can easily have too many cooks. Believe me, while she was probably glad to step aside it - she is in her eighties - yet I know that it pained her to see any changes from the way she had done things for so many years. Thankfully - and this is in no way a slight to Lorraine or Lynn - my mother's hand was still guiding the meal.

This year things will be a bit different.

Time after time I have said to myself that I have to take some cooking lessons from my mom. I always get a laugh when I ask her about a recipe and she pulls out a yellowed news clipping from 50 years ago that she has tucked in some cookbook. In some cases she has modified it somewhat, in others she hadn't changed a thing. It is ones that were passed down from her mother where things can get a little gray. "How much salt goes in here, Mom?" "Oh, I don't know. A pinch or so." I've been successful recreating some of the dishes, not so much with others. Lizz has done a great job with a few - especially one of my favorites - cavatelli with broccoli (frozen chopped broccoli sauteed in oil and garlic and tossed with the pasta and crushed red) served with pan fried chicken cutlets. As with most of my mom's meals the ingredient list is short. Most of the dishes in the Christmas Eve meal have under 5 ingredients, some less. It comes down to execution and knowing just how many "pinches" to throw in. Sounds easy, right? Any good cook knows it's not that easy.

So although I will miss the scene at my brother's house, Lizz and I are looking forward to cooking this meal at our house this year under my the watchful eye of my mother. We will be cooking for about 12 - usually there's twice as many. I also will spending a lot of time in the kitchen, as opposed to sitting at the table with the men, drinking wine. But there are benefits. It will give us a chance to learn how to do this, so hopefully we can keep this tradition going when and if we are called to do so. Plus we get all the leftovers!

That's our story. There are a million variations and I would love to hear about yours.

Here's a few that caught my eye, Mario Batali and another interesting menu.

Plus, check out this great graphic novel at the Feast Of The Seven Fishes blog.

Seconds Of Pleasure, Hours Of Practice

Just a little note about what I'll be up to with the Blaggards over this holiday season!

On Saturday, December 26th - the official start of the 2010 Holiday season - my band, the ever-loving Blaggards will join our good friends The Lone Sharks at Roy Wilson's Rockabilly Saturday Night concert series, which takes place at Matty Ts in Deer Park, NY. We will be performing Rockpile's classic LP "Seconds Of Pleasure" in its entirety, including the bonus EP for all you hardcore fans out there. We'll have some special guests as well. Should be a lot of fun!

This leads into the new year and Elvis Show 2010, which is already shaping up to be a great night. Mark your calendars - it all happens on Saturday, January 30th at a new venue, Hennesey's Bar & Grill in Huntington Station. The usual cast and crew, plus some new faces and a few old friends as well. I'm am happy to announce our line-up of backing bands: The Purple Gang, The Hornets, The Lone Sharks and The Blaggards - who are once again graciously donating their time and services for the cause. As always, every dime raised goe to help local food banks, and as you no doubt know, things are rough out there. I'm hoping for a big turnout so we can help out as many people as possible. More details soon!

Finally, The Blaggards will take over for Roy & The Buzzards on Saturday, November 28th at Matty Ts with two big sets of non-stop, non-shtick Rock AND Roll! Joining us with be The Vendettas and it all starts about 9:00PM. Come on down and work off that big T-day dinner. We promise to wipe out those Black Friday blues!

God, Crumb and The New York Yankees

A bunch of my friends are heading out east to see the East River String Band at the Stephen Talkhouse on Saturday night with special guests Robert Crumb and local hero Joe Lauro. I'll be staying home to watch the Yankees hopefully gain passage to the World Series. I mean, I like that old timey crap as much as the next guy, which translates into "not so much" and even I did like it more than that I would be hard pressed not be at the bar watching the game anyway - as I am sure many will be doing.

Much more interesting is Crumb's latest book, "The Book Of Genesis" an illustrated version of the first book of the Bible. I have always enjoyed Crumb's work and certainly gained a new level of fascination with both the man and his work after seeing Terry Zwigoff's biopic. But I have to admit that after flipping through the book in my local bookstore, I was at first amused (not that I was looking for laughs) and then ultimately disappointed mostly in the fact that Crumb's art has remained largely unchanged. I guess I was looking for something a bit more than just what the book's title states - and that's not truly delivered. This isn't an artist interpreting the Bible, it's someone drawing the Bible and not inserting much of himself in the process. I read in a few interviews that he "just illustrated what is there." Maybe so, but what a lost opportunity - and how incredibly boring a process for both the artist and the reader. Don't get me wrong - I was not looking for Mr. Natural to make an appearance or for Eve to look like Devil Girl - although all the women he draws pretty much look all alike. I was hoping that a project of this scope would bring some new energy into his work. In the end, all we get is what we already know - both about Genesis and Robert Crumb.

Garden Party

I am such a sucker when it comes to big ass rock and roll shows, so of course I had to take a shot at some tickets for the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame's birthday celebration scheduled for late October. It didn't take too much arm twisting - after all Bruce is headlining the bill, or at least I assume he is the headliner - along with Stevie Wonder, Paul Simon (with and without Garfunkle), and the oddly billed Crosby, Still, Nash and Friends. I am also assuming that Neil Young isn't among their friends and from what I've read, Stephan Stills has no friends left. The show is the first of a two night stand, the second night offering up the interesting bill of Eric Clapton, Aretha Franklin, U2 and Metallica.

From what I gather, each of the performers will bring on special guests to perform, all of which I assume (a lot of assumptions here) are members of the Hall. The way I see it the first night will get a good number of R&B, folk and rock and rollers, while the second night will see more of the blues and rock guys. I can see Chuck Berry being back by the E Street Band as opposed to Metallica - but one never does know what they have planned for these types of events.

Tickets ran from $79 up to "once-in-a-lifetime" VIP packages costing up to $100,000. Whoa. Considering that you're getting the same show as everyone else, that additional $99921 better come with more than a goodie bag - or a really good goodie bag.

I tried for the $79 seats, 4 at first - no go. Then 2, still no go. I jumped up to the next price point - $150 - and got two seats, right at the halfway point of the Garden and all the way up in the very top section! Where the heck were the $79 seats - outside? I checked later in the day and you could still get a couple of the $2500 seats. All for a good cause, mind you. The whole shabang will be edited down for an HBO special. Careful with those closeups - most of this crew doesn't look so good in HD these days.

Big Mac

Lizz and I went to see Paul on Saturday night at Citifield. It was my first trip to that ball park and I will have to go back to actually see it as a ball park. They built a small city right on the field for Paul and his band and a few thousand friends. We met some friends before the show, including Lizz's cousin Steve who put out quite the spread. And we had beer.

I really don't think Paul has it in him to put on a bad show. To my ears, his voice is a strong as ever - and the songs, well the hits just keep coming. The thing I really like is that he has kept it to the small combo - two guitars, bass and drums with Wix on keyboards handling everything else - including fake saxophone! The band can rock hard, especially Abe Laboriel on drums.

Citifield looks pretty nice. I liked it best from outside - it looks like some sort of gigantic steamship (insert sinking joke here). The lack of a Mets presence throughout is pretty weird. I went to The Stadium the next day for Old Timer's Day thanks to my pal Mike Winter. I like that place a lot better.

Elvis Show 2009 - And It Begins!

Saturday, January 12th - The first of two big "dress rehearsals" for the Elvis Show took place and a great time was had by all. It was great to see some folks that I haven't seen since the last Elvis Show and to meet a few for the first time. The Purple Gang was ready, willing and able - its always a treat to get a chance to play with Mike Bifulco, Sean O'Neill and Memphis Mike. We got to hear a couple of our second-generation singers, while a few more of the younger ones came to support their moms and/or dads. Liam had a ball, though he was probably more interested in playing with Baby D, then watching the band. Big thanks to our hosts, Tom and Heidy for opening their house for this inspired bit of madness. Things are coming together nicely and I really think this is going to be among the best shows we've done. Next up is a little get together with the Hornets and then the Blaggards step up to the plate with another dozen vocalists or so!

Go Home Already

I spent an unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon watching Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes play a set to a largely uninterested crowd in the "Piazza" of the new Tanger's outlet mall in Deer Park. This was the mall's grand opening weekend and the beautiful weather brought out shoppers in droves, searching for bargains, not glorified bar bands. Their loss though, as Southside and his current crop of Jukes put on a great show which featured a lot of tunes from his current record, "Grapefruit Moon," a collection of Tom Waits tunes. I guess this gig was better than doing a supermarket opening, but I really think it's time for this band to take up a residency somewhere - Atlantic City certainly comes to mind. Some forward thinking casino should build them their own room. Southside has no problems covering tunes - he's not a songwriter - and nobody plays better boardwalk music outside of that other guy from Jersey (no, not Jon Bon Jovi).

Southside Johnny Lyons is a good vocalist and fine harmonica player and the band is tight. The current keyboardist was a good foil for Lyons - he is sort of a "Dr. John Lite" - and some of the highlights of the show is when the horn section stepped up to do some New Orlean's style group solos. They were in good spirits despite having to play for a bunch of bargain hunters looking for discounts on overpriced designer goods.

The Jukes would make a great fixture at a casino, in a nice throw-back, Vegas strip style room, two shows a night with maybe three on the weekend. Have some Jersey Boy comedian open and get Southside a girl singer he can bring on during the show a la Keely Smith. I think it would be a big hit and a much better gig than this one - and you would still be able to shop after the show.

In Search Of Bobby Flay

Went looking for Bobby's Burger Palace only to realize that we were at the wrong mall. Imagine that - mixing up the malls on Long Island. After much initial disappointment, we accepted the fact that we would have to wait to experience a burger with potato chips right ON the burger, as opposed to NEXT to the burger. So off we went to the food court, doing the obligatory lap around to see what we could see. Along the way people in progressively funnier hats kept offering me pieces of shiny meat on plastic forks or toothpicks - all of which I eagerly accepted and all of which tasted exactly the same - slimy, best sums it up. I could have done two or three laps before the drones would have caught on - chances are they wouldn't have cared - and I would have amassed enough chicken chunks to qualify as lunch. But the lure of hot pastrami stopped me in my tracks, as pastrami has done in the past and will probably do again in the future.

But it don't look like rain

Last Friday night I had one of the most enjoyable musical experiences of my lifetime - quite a statement if I do say so myself. I have the good fortune to have seen many, many live performances over the past forty or so years and it is always the unexpected ones that seem to rise above the rest. Jimmy Webb's show at Heckscher Park in Huntington was one of those shows.

I have always loved his songs, even before I knew he had written them. I have a lot of catching up to do in regards to his own recordings and recent works and I plan to do so over the next few months. I did see him perform once before at the Brian Wilson tribute at Radio City Music Hall where he sang Brian's songs as only a songwriter can sing them - making the lyrics come alive in a way that I had never realized before.

It was a rainy, rainy night. Lizz laughed at the thought of me going down to the park at all, but this was the one show that I wanted to catch. I had called my good friend Tom Pfeifer, who was into going despite the miserable weather forecast. As he so correctly pointed out at least we could get a cup of coffee and spend some time catching up. For a brief - very brief - moment the sky seemed to clear and I have visions of a nice night under the stars listening to the man sing his songs. That was until the weather bulletins began to crawl across the TV screen warning me - yes, me - to stay inside, take cover and prepare for the worst. You would think that two grown men would have the know it all to accept these messages, but Starbucks was right around the corner and as Tom said, we were going to turn water into wine anyway. Off we went.

As we drove into town, the rain still coming down hard, we noticed that the steel gate in front of the Chapin Stage was shut. Not a very good sign as it was just about showtime. I noticed some sort of activity around the stage so we decided to park the car and head over there. Once before I had went to a show in foul weather - The Five Chinese Brothers - who rearranged their gear on the stage and invited us all to sit on the stage itself. Turns out that is exactly what Jimmy Webb had decided to do.

With less than 100 people there, the staff had arranged seats around the Steinway grand piano in a very nice fashion, turning the stage into a cabaret-like atmosphere. Tom and I found ourselves sitting right next to Mr. Webb - the photo above is from my phone. We were pretty giddy over the whole thing, which had gone from at best standing in the rain for an hour or so to being part of what was sure to be a very special night.

Turns out it was Jimmy Webb's birthday, but he was giving the presents. For the next hour and a half he told the most wonderful stories, each one accompanied by one of his wonderful songs. No doubt he was relaxed in this intimate atmosphere and I have to imagine that the stories may have had a little more information or were told in a bit more detail than if he was performing before the larger crowd that would have certainly been there under better conditions. The sound was awesome and the lighting really effective, my hats off to the crew down at the Park for making this happen.

The stories were amazing. I would give anything to hang out with this guy for a few hours. Drinking with Harry Nilson, driving to Belfast with Richard Harris, writing a song for a girl who broke his heart - I can only imagine the tales he could tell. If hasn't done so already, I hope he writes a book. The songs - well the songs are perfect. His voice is not strong, he readily admits that, though it certainly doesn't "stink" as Harry Nilson described it one of his stories. To hear him sing these songs, which I have embedded in my brain in the voices of Glen Cambell, Frank Sinatra, Art Garfunkel and countless others, you began to make the connection between them. His piano playing is quite orchestral, shimmering riffs and startling rumbles - the instrumental vamp in Macarthur's park just flat out rocked.

I saw that he has a live CD out right now that features some of these songs and stories. I can pretty much say that it would be worth checking out. If it was anything like what we experienced the other night it will be time well spent.

Most Likely You'll Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)

I did not meet Bob Dylan last night.

In fact I didn't even have a backstage pass. As is the case with these things, something got lost in the sauce. I did have comp tickets to the show and I did have a lovely dinner overlooking the Atlantic Ocean on the Asbury Park boardwalk and I did meet up with Clay Edwards, president of Hohner Harmonicas, who is a really nice guy.

So it goes. I knew the chances were slim and so I settled in for the show - which even with incredibly awful sound was excellent.

It was during Dylan's encores when Clay came up to my seat and motioned that I should come with him. He lead me through the crowd to the side of the hall where he shouted in my ear that we were meeting with Dylan's road manager and we would have a quick "meet and greet" and maybe get a chance to say hello and shake his hand. Then just a quickly we were informed that Dylan's security nixed the idea saying it would be too difficult to get Bob from point A to point B or something like that.

Clay told me that Bob is suppose to visit the Hohner shop in Virginia and if that comes to pass, he will invite me to come down. Should that happen, I will be there with bells on.