Feb. 9, 2023

From the World of Entertainment. Raindrops. ‘La La Lala La La Lala La’. The piano trill on ‘Close to You’. Doesn’t take much of a musical cue before you find yourself singing right along.

Burt Bacharach died today at 95. His songs were marvelously positive and he was prolific, writing hundreds of songs for hundreds of artists.

Perhaps his most well known writer/singer pairing was with Dionne Warwick – ‘Walk on By’, ‘I’ll Never Fall in Love again’, ‘Alfie’, ‘San Jose’ and ‘Say a Little Prayer’.

He wrote with Hal David, ‘My Little Red Book’ (rec. by Manfred Mann), the drop dead, call the cops ‘The Look of Love’ for Dusty Springfield, ‘Promises, Promises’, and ‘I’ll Never Fall in Love Again’ for the Broadway musical. And with Carole Bayer-Sager (I Had a Crush on You – that’s not a song, I did have a crush!), ‘Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do)’, performed by Christopher Cross. He was married to Bayer-Sager and also to Angie Dickinson.

It doesn’t stop. To put all these titles – even a selection – on his tombstone would require sinking a caisson. He gave us a melody, a beat and smile.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/burt-bacharach-composer-top-10-hits-dies-94-rcna14833

Turkey. Please say a prayer for an unimaginable 20,000 Turkish citizens who perished Monday in a 7.8 magnitude earthquake. The search for survivors is still going on.

https://www.newsmax.com/world/globaltalk/earthquake-turkey-syria/2023/02/09/id/1107925/

Random/1. In the 60s, my Uncle Walt worked for Alberto-Culver in Melrose Park, Il – he was was a professional painter. We had an endless supply of Alberto-VO5, Command Hair Grease (smelled good, red tube), Hollywood Pomade (attracted bugs) and whatever else he ‘procured’ from the place while he worked.

He was a farm boy from Ohio who served as a gunner in WWII – second day into Normandy, if I remember. He married my mom’s sister and spent a happy life in the western and southwest suburbs of Chicago.

The random thought I had was when he switched jobs and worked for Wilson Sporting Goods. I got a baseball glove. My cousin, a jock, got, among other items, a revered Wilson A2000 mitt. The Wilson building was brick, but the top of it was wrapped in bright blue, corrugated metal. Uncle Walt’s job was to paint that blue metal. From start to stop took him almost a full year. Then he did it again. I never saw him unhappy. It sure beat firing at Germans in the woods from a flatbed truck.

Random/2. Remember the song ‘Shannon’, by Henry Gross? Woke up to it this morning, thinking, wow, does he sound like Brian Wilson.

Gross, a session guitarist from Brooklyn, wrote and recorded the song in 1976 as a tribute to Carl Wilson’s dog, who died that year. He still tours at 71, and bills himself as ‘The One-Hit Wanderer’.

Last Not Least. Buffalo Bills defensive back, Damar Hamlin, is calling for prayer at football games after being brought back from a devastating heart attack on the field last month in Cincinnati.

At football games? Yep – take a knee and this time, pray. How ’bout all sports venues? In fact, let’s pray, America! Everywhere – schools, malls, in the car, on the way to work, at work and at home. Let’s see what happens!

One more. Do you think The Zingles is a good name for a band?

We’ll remember his name.

CSNY 1970 – Auditorium Theater

Jan 19, 2023. In the 1960s, David Crosby’s strong tenor harmonies informed the core of the Byrds, who electrified Bob Dylan’s folk lyrics and brought social awareness to the mainstream, laying the groundwork for a burgeoning counterculture.

The very end of the decade gave rise to Crosby, Stills, Nash and sometimes Neil Young; one of the first rock-pop supergroups. Their career lifted their iconoclastic message to an art form and musically paved the way for the Eagles, Poco, Linda Ronstadt, Jackson Browne, and all who followed.

While railing against corporate America (it made them millions) and the military-industrial complex, they also encouraged us to love the one we’re with and to teach our children well. The drug-influenced melodies and lyrics of many songs from that era became so confusing, that I questioned the radically changing culture, eventually abandoning the scene, and almost joined the Navy. Later, I played big band music, which resurged in the late 70s and 80s and allowed people to cast their worries on the dance floor.

I still have a close friend who is a life-long CSN/Y aficionado. Occasionally, I went to their concerts, and I remember seeing Roger McGuinn (native Chicagoan and Byrds founder) at Park West in the 90s. Around that time, it was rumored that David Crosby, trying to put his life back together after decades of drugs and disease led to a liver transplant, was playing solo at bars in Wrigleyville.

Then came a reunion with a long lost son, James Raymond, who Crosby teamed up with in an eclectic group called CPR. My friend told me about a performance they were doing in Lincoln Park, for the benefit of the animals.

Glad I went. Not only was the music fresh and excellent, but during a break, David Crosby came to the fence to meet and greet. He only had a brief time to spend with each of us, but in those 20-30 seconds, he held my glance and appeared genuinely interested in who I was, and that I appreciated his career.

I saw the humanity in his eyes. That fleeting glimpse of his soul told me that David believed in what he stood for and what he sang about. Such conviction was hard fought and hard won, if you know his past. Mother earth may swallow him, but I believe his spirit is soaring never-so-bright as now.

Happy New Year’s Eve!

Random thoughts came, about driving home from a gig one year, after a heavy snow, and seeing a car spinning on its roof. Fortunately, I heard sirens and the cops and paramedics were on their way.

And for some reason, I thought of seeing cigarette butts, ages ago – stomped out – on the floor of Sears at Six Corners. Two things may have prompted my musing. One, I was probably very young, so I lived much closer to the floor back then, and two, people did smoke in department stores in the 50s and 60s. In fact the doctor who set my broken arm, June 1963 (baseball accident – led to starting on guitar for therapy), was puffing on a butt while he worked.

But this is New Year’s Eve, so there are a few more apropos memories. Speaking of being young, I was about 8 when we had one of our large family gatherings, NYE. My uncles and my dad got wailing drunk and they decided to play confession. Uncle Stanley starred as the priest (he was older – born 1912), and Dad co-starred as the penitent parishioner. Out came a handkerchief, which served as the confessional, and it was placed over my dad’s head.

Uncle Stanley (God rest him) smoked huge, cheap cigars and rarely took them out of his mouth, except maybe to take a breath when he was singing, which he did often. But in this instance, he kept the cigar in place. As my dad poured out his contrition, Uncle Stanley leaned in to hear him and… it took a week for the burn to heal. Come to think of it, the handkerchief may have prevented a third degree burn. They didn’t feel much pain, anyway. Not till later.

Fast Forward to 1970. I spent New Year’s Eve sitting on the floor at Alice’s Revisited in Lincoln Park (Wrightwood and Sheffield), watching Corky Siegal and Jim Schwall (Siegal-Schwall Blues band) ply their trade. They were the real deal, well before the Blues Bros. came along. I was with my late, great buddy, Rudy Presslak. The house was packed and there were no chairs. Fine. Bottle after bottle of Boone’s Farm, or was it Strawberry Fields, or was it MD 20/20 (I was a budding connoisseur) was passed around all night long. You were uncool if you wiped the bottle. We might have sung Auld Lange Syne – likely the narcs joined in, as they were sipping, too.

I’ll leave out two of the three happy NY Eves that followed until I can get Margie’s permission to use her picture (not gonna happen). We spent the last one in Hofbrauhaus, Munich, where Hitler came to power in the 1930s. The place was filled with servicemen; USA and German, and the Lowenbrau flowed like the Tauber river. I remember having to dissuade a German solider, who wore a rascally smile, from lighting a firecracker under Margie’s chair. He was polite, and backed down.

And there was Y2K. If you recall, it was the end of the world. Everything was about to break down and the planet was going to blow up. Sandy and I – a little overzealous in our faith at the time (little?) – stood in front of the TV, our hands clasped, heads bowed. When nothing happened, we kissed and hugged and probably finished our drinks and went to bed. Kev was nine at the time.

These days, everyone else has the fun. I’m happy and warm in my studio apt. and will enjoy the spate of Astaire/Rogers movies on TV and probably finish up watching Holiday Inn. At Midnight I’ll take a low seat because I live across from the tracks where fireworks, and recently, bullets fly wild. Well, this is Chicago.

Happy New Year, everyone! 2023 – can you believe it? And farewell, Baba Wawa, wherever you may be.

Dec. 29, 2022

I eat other things besides Salmon, but when the dish comes out pretty good, I like to share the recipe, which I never make the same way twice. So here goes.

salmon, asparagus, egg, carrots

rice, orzo, mushrooms, corn and garlic cloves

This started out simple – poached salmon in quick, easy homemade chicken broth soup. But nooo!

While the rice and orzo and egg were slow boiling, I placed the salmon, asparagus and carrots in the steamer basket, sprinkled it with granulated garlic and half salt, put the basket on top of the pot and covered.

When the egg was done, I took it out and placed it in a bowl of cold water – it peels easier that way. The salmon, asparagus and carrots steamed quickly – they went into a separate bowl until the rice/orzo was done.

I emptied the water and then added some olive oil, grass fed butter and a little chicken stock to the pot, low to medium heat, and then sautéed mushrooms, corn, and a couple of garlic cloves. When they were cooking pretty good, I put in the rice/orzo. Then I added two secret ingredients: powdered red bell pepper (Olive Nation) and powdered fennel (Starwest Botanicals). Also added a teaspoon of my soup mix, which I make from scratch. And more half salt. Cooked it until the rice was just slightly brown, then I stirred the whole thing.

Everything went into my dinner bowl and I added a few black olives (very little salt in those) and a bit of muenster cheese, parsley and we were rolling!

Here’s a shot of the Amaryllis my sister gave me at Christmas. They sprout up and bloom within a couple of days – the miracle plant!

December 27, 2022

Hope everyone had a great Christmas. It’s been awhile – about a year and a half since I last wrote.

This is still the best way to communicate since social media more or less ‘won’t have me.’ I think that’s funny and I’m trying to get back on, but for now, I have a few things to tell you about and I’m glad to do it in this space.

Do any of you remember that book I was working on forever? Well, forever has finally arrived and I’ll release it soon as we clear up a few business details. Here’s what the cover looks like:

Thanks to Robert Horn (roberthorn.us) for a great job putting it together.

So the blog will go on much as before; various ramblings, pics, recipes, slice-of-life. Depending on how much time I have to get into it, we might see the return of Pipe Guy! Only this time, it will be in fictionalized form: The Adventures of Pipe Guy. There’ll be a new character, and he’s pretty cool. I’ll have to see if I can procure the rights to some art work I found. I’ve written a theme, too, and recorded some of it, but it’s still in early stages of development.

Haven’t had a chance to do much photography lately, but Christmas brought back some memories of when I’d grab my DSLR and bear sleet, fog, wind and snow, load up in the van, and go out and shoot.

The first one was from my old Jeff Pk. neighborhood, Dec. 2009. Looks like the neighbors down the block had their own generator.

On the second one, I got lucky – shot it right as the deer sneezed!

The last one I used as my Christmas card this year and I want to share it with you.

Have a great week and maybe I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve!

RB

Saturday, April 17, 2021

If it looks like I ate half my dinner and them took a picture, yep – that’s exactly right!

But this was so good, I wanted to share. I’ve gone back to eating from a plate – this particular one, my wife and I got at Dominick’s not long after we were married, early 80s. That’s when supermarkets were still offering dinnerware and flatware.

Usually, I eat from a bowl and have been for decades. The method to the madness here is – you might see that my dinners have dwindled down to the essentials – I enjoy each individual item on the plate and let the flavors come together as I eat.

I eat less. This, of course, isn’t my only meal – it’s my protein meal. I just try to make it flavorful, which, trust me, this one was! I make a big vegetable broth later in the day and little else after that. I am slowly losing weight, walking more, and am not as hungry as when I ate for recreation, emotion and entertainment. That was last week, Btw!

So here’s the score:

1 medium pork chop

A good handful of flat leaf, organic Italian Parsley

Black Olives

Whole Almonds (I used 6)

Nutritional Yeast (a fav. by Now Company)

Fennel Seeds (great for cooking pork)

Pasture butter (peanut butter or almond butter also works well)

Zoe EV Olive Oil (I got it because the net says it’s one of few that are real olive oil, no veg oils included)

Small Garlic Clove and some Garlic Powder

1 slice of Ezekiel Bread

Now forgive me if I left anything out. I don’t think I did – oh yes, a little sea salt or Kosher salt to taste.

Bake your pork chop. I had 2 large ones on hand and actually cut them up to make 3 meals.  Aluminum foil on the baking tray, wipe with some oil. Sprinkle the garlic powder on both sides of the chops, do the same with the fennel seed. Put a small amount of pasture butter on top of the chops and they’re ready for the oven.

375˚ and watch them! Keep turning – cooking time was almost an hour because the chops were thicker. Make sure they’re done and juicy – worth the effort!

Cut what you want in pieces and add to the plate. Then add your parsley, almonds, black olives, nutritional yeast, a small pad of the butter, salt, and of course the Ezekiel Bread for sopping up the plate afterward.

Savor and enjoy!

Here’s the only quote on food that I found by Chesterton (just started reading him).

“All true friendliness begins with fire and food and drink and the recognition of rain or frost.”

 

Sunday, April 4, 2021

Have a great special Sunday!

Friday, March 19, 2021.

Tradition was, in my folk’s house, fish and noodles on Friday. My mom usually fried perch (Crisco) and on occasion, her great home made noodles (fried in butter).
These days, we try to be a little more gentle on our arteries, so here’s my variation on that great Friday Fish Dish.

This recipe makes two dinners.

Ingredients:
A huge chunk of salmon – about 3/4 of a pound.
For sautéing the fish:
Chicken broth, garlic powder, chives, olive oil and yes, a little butter. And about 1/2 tsp. of Apple Cider Vinegar.
Veggies:
1 orange bell pepper, cut into large slices.
1 clove of garlic, sliced (don’t watch Goodfellas and slice it with a razor blade, a pairing knife will do fine).
Zucchini – use as much as you want. I cut 2-3″ off a whole piece and made large sticks, almost wedges.
Mushrooms
Onion optional. I’d slice up half of one, but can’t eat them.
A few stalks of asparagus – cut off the woody stems.
Pasta – I had gluten-free tubes on hand. I don’t use too much pasta – much as I love it the carb content is way up there.

OK – let’s go!
Start by boiling the pasta. Salt the H20 and add a few drops of olive oil. The noodles won’t stick to the pot or each other.
Add the asparagus.

Cook the salmon, face down, in the chicken broth, garlic powder, butter, olive oil and chives. Not too much liquid, this is closer to a sauté than a poaching. When the salmon is looking good, add the bell pepper, mushrooms and zucchini.

When the salmon is done on one side (still juicy but cooked), peel the skin off with a fork, flip it over and cook it a little more. Then take it out of the pan and set it aside to rest. Slice up more garlic, add more olive oil or butter to the pan and cook up two egg whites. I seasoned the egg whites with dill and marjoram. The eggs add protein and flavor the dish. Leave the veggies in.
Before it’s done, add the cooked pasta and asparagus.

Place the veggies in a serving dish, then go back and brown the salmon just a little.

I added Goya green olives and artichokes to the plate as I do to all my dinners. Sprinkle with parmesan. White wine or light beer.

Saturday, March 13, 2021

So it went this fast. You were born, you started PreK-3, then you were five, we were playing ‘Take me to the Powerhouse,’ (Zion), then Grade School, Luther North, Dominican, Iowa, California…

Holy Smokes! All those walks to Forest Glen, AWANA, singing songs, The Buffalo Club, Poetry Corner, falling out of bed laughing at my silly jokes, Sweets,

Grandma and Grandpa, plays at Messiah, building that clay volcano in the sink, home haircuts!, your first (Tandy) computer, making those race cars downstairs in the wood shop, tricycles, bicycles, batting a ball, catching a ball, catching your first fish,

geocaching with your buddies, the Higher (and Lower) at FG, GPS on our walks, making stars shoot out of chimneys by jumping up and down, trips to White Pines, Drama Club at Luther, Homecoming, choir, piano lessons,

drums, the trumpet, Graduation, moving into the dorm at Dominican with Tim Little, learning to drive, living on your own, heading west to Iowa State, meeting Jakki, and then California.

And now you’re 30. Haven’t seen you in quite a few years, but I love you, son – in all the stages of your life. And forever. God Bless you and Happy Birthday.

Friday, March 12, 2021

Before I start, every evening around 5:15 pm, a few of the ladies who live in my building walk down the hall, on their way home from what must be a daily gathering. No matter where I am in the apartment, I can hear their chatter – even if I don’t catch everything they say, I know they’re wishing each other a good evening, a good dinner, and a good night. Usually they’re accompanied by a little white Lhasa Apso. I didn’t hear her tonight, so I’m wondering if she’s all right. There are squirrels out there almost the same size.

At the time this was going on, I happened to be reading Hemingway’s Nick Adams’ WWWI adventures in Italy. Hemingway himself was wounded (he was an ambulance driver) and his character, Nick Adams, was wounded even worse. The clash of ladies chattering excitedly in the hall and a harrowing account of bombs blowing poor, young solider to bits in 1917 made for an interesting mix. 

Cod was on the menu tonight, with Alexia potatoes (“Alexa, potatoes, please.” “How do you want them?” “Hot and on my plate, right next to the fish.” “You’re funny, Mr. B.”)

This isn’t me of course, but’s an actual picture of my friend Al S.

Tuesday, I went to Forest Glen by myself for the first time in maybe a year. I’ve been there with friends, but  this time I hopped the Metra, said howdy to the conductor who remembered me and got off in my old happy place. 

Was once my jogging place, toned it down to walking, many years back. It’s where I took  my son Kev (who’s turing 30 tomorrow), fishing, exploring, talking to the neighbors, and plenty of photos over the past 34 years. 

High 60s for the walk, not a cloud in the sky, a sweatshirt and windbreaker and my new camera phone was all I needed for the trip. 

Everything’s set for Spring, but Spring’s not quite here yet. Warm weather, dry, no foliage or blossoms yet, but you can feel that they’re coming soon.

More Later!

Btw – My good friend, Ron Smolen emailed me this one. Ron leads the RSO Orchestra. Dancing and great music from years gone by. The vid is proof positive, comparing The Sound of Water vs the Sound of Beer. Enjoy!