Discussion of Wichita Lineman

It's wonderful to hear the breakdown of how the music was made. As a guy who was born in Wichita, lived 50 miles from Oklahoma when the song came out, Wichita Lineman is one of the songs that's in my soundtrack, hard.

At the time I first heard the song, I thought it was about a guy who worked for the phone company, or perhaps the power company. He was out, alone, tired, and dedicated. I thought the song glorified some of my neighbors who drove home trucks adorned with ladders, maybe a boom, and always a big spool of wire.

I didn't think about the song again for years. At some point, a friend e-mailed me a demo of him playing an instrumental version of Wichita Lineman. The next time we were together, we listened to the song again, and I sang along. He said, "Jesus, man. You know all the words!"

I told him it was a great song, and that he was cutting it short by recording an instrumental version.

About the same time, I read a biography of Neil Young called Shakey--an amazing book which fills in many blanks but has you waiting for the train wreck at any moment. The important quote from Neil Young is, "...every great song is wanting to, but you can't." If any song fills that bill, it's Wichita Lineman.

As Glen Campell was passing a few years ago, I was on the road and listening to satellite radio a bunch--it was filled with Glen Campbell. I had no idea that he was everywhere, and that some of the riffs I'd heard since I discovered the radio were his.

To pile on to Martin's points, the guy was a phenomenal guitar player, and if you go to YouTube and look up his duets with David Gates, of Bread, who by the way ruined it for anyone trying to sing Bread songs at a wedding reception for the next three decades, Glen Campbell sang lead on a bunch of those duet performances.

Glen Campbell is one of those guys who a lot of us thought we knew but realized we knew more once he was gone.

Curt's Tips for Visiting Myrtle Beach

A lot of people ask me, “what do we do when we get to Myrtle Beach?” Here are a few recommendations:


Go to the beach. The beach really is the key feature of Myrtle Beach (and any nearby beach community).  If you’re looking for five-star restaurants and all the amenities of Downtown Disney, you’ll be sorely disappointed. The suggestion is to spend as much time at the beach as possible by avoiding time-wasting activities like “trying to find a good, fast lunch” and “I’ve got to stay inside because I’m sunburned.”


Go to the Big Store (not a "beach" store0 as soon as you land. Buy stuff for lunch and lots of sunscreen. Buy snacks and any sort of beach game/play stuff you might want, especially a few boogie boards for body surfing.

Rent beach chairs ahead of time (unless you’re at a place that does this for you).  http://lacksbeachlifeguards.com/services/ or http://bit.ly/NMB_Beach_Services  It may seem like a lot of money, but it’s well worth it since the chairs and umbrellas you buy at Wal-Mart (or one of the four million beach stores) will rust by the time you get home and putting a beach umbrella in the sand is almost impossible. You might consider one umbrella/two chairs and buying two chairs (the low ones are perfect for sitting in the surf and letting the water rush around you) on your way from the airport.
--Buy a cooler. This will hold lunch and beverages. Buy plenty of bottles of water.
--Buy lots of sunscreen. The spray stuff is easy to use and comes in lots of strengths. Really. Buy lots.

Food. There are hundreds of restaurants. Most of them will have some sort of note on the website, in their ads in the free guides, and on their front doors that say, “Voted #1 {insert food sub-group here} restaurant on the Grand Strand!” No one I’ve ever met knows who those voters are. The “local” food is shrimp though there are oysters and clams through the winter. The way shrimp comes is either boiled, and usually seasoned with Old Bay, or deep fried (“Calabash Style”). There are also “Oyster Roasts” which feature in-shell oysters, roasted. The higher-end places may have brought in comparatively local crabs and oysters, but most of the lower-end and big chain places are bringing it in from somewhere else.

If you stay in a place with a kitchen, buy some local shrimp and boil it. Buy a ½ pound of local, raw shrimp per person, cocktail sauce, some red potatoes, corn on the cob (if available), and frozen hush puppies. In a big pot (buy a big, cheap pot at Wal-Mart if necessary), boil the water, dump in a bunch of Old Bay, throw in the potatoes, cook for a while until the potatoes soften, throw in the corn for a few minutes, and then throw in the shrimp. Do not overcook the shrimp!!! If raw and fresh, you’ll buy it grayish. Cook until pinkish, and it will float. It is done.  Dump out the water and serve. Put on more Old Bay if you’d like.


Avoid chain restaurants. There are now zillions of them around Myrtle Beach. Try the Chesapeake House, Sea Captain’s House, Rockefeller’s, Duffy Street Seafood Shack, Bimini’s, or head up to Calabash (for the genuinely shopping-deprived, there’s a huge Christmas store there).


Steak. Just say no.

“Things to do.” Again, this isn’t Disney. There are some cool things, but the beach is really what you do in Myrtle Beach.  Here are a few “off the beach suggestions:”

--Downtown Myrtle Beach, near the former Pavilion, do this during the day:
Ferris Wheel.

--Gay Dolphin Gift Cove. Been there since the ‘60s, has a large selection of random beach souvenirs and a cool collection of vintage, for sale, postcards.

--Arcades. Skee-Ball and ancient baseball games are the bomb. If you spend $300, you may get enough tickets to get something cool, but it’s still fun, and you’ll always treasure your X-Ray Specs.

--Fat Harold’s, North Myrtle Beach (Ocean Drive for you purists). This is the “Home of the Shag,” a dance coming out of the late 1940s that once required Bass Weejuns with no socks--kind of a Jitterbug with lots of fancy footwork. Lessons are available, and yes there’s a bar. It’s something you don’t see anywhere else, and you won’t forget it. In season, the Ocean Drive Pavilion has a dance floor that looks out onto the beach.

--Amusement Park “Family Kingdom.” There’s an old rollercoaster, The Swamp Fox, named for local revolutionary war hero Francis Marion, and some other very vintage rides. It’s not cheap, but entertaining.

--Golf. Everywhere. Take your pick.

--Miniature Golf. Also Everywhere.

--Pawley’s Island and Murrell's Inlet are pleasant diversions. Brookgreen Gardens is also quite impressive.

The beach. It’s the deal.


Myrtle Beach is a great place to go, and the beach is a beautiful place to be. There are over 100 golf courses, lots of good places to eat, but don’t expect it to be Hilton Head or Orlando. Go to the beach and enjoy!

Granddad, The World's Oldest Lungfish, Passes Away.

This is indeed sad news! Granddad was one of my favorite visits at the Shedd Aquarium, and though most people I dragged there initially had no idea what they were seeing, most left with an deeper appreciation of the aquatic dinosaur-cousin.

While Granddad, the Shedd lungfish, lived a fairly cushy life in a clean, well oxygenated tank in the aquarium, in the wild he, she? did they ever figure this out?, would have lived in a stream bed that would be wet in the spring and summer and dry the rest of the time, surviving by burying himself in the mud and using his lungs rather than gills to breathe. Of course, being buried in mud would have made him less likely to be eaten by predators.

For those of you at home writing your own management and career books, there might be a parable or two that could be used in your next tome--the ability to survive while moving very little or using much air is something I've seen many people do in the rough-and-tumble corporate world. It seems to work evidently.

On a more personal note, Granddad made his debut at the 1933 Chicago Century of Progress Exhibition, or World's Fair, on my father's third birthday. According to legend, my mother was there with her mother for the fair, though Mom's only remembrances were fireworks and an Indian's head dress. incidentally, Dad would have been in Kansas City, and they didn't know each other then anyway.

Well Granddad, as my friend Bob would say, "Lung this!" and Godspeed!

An Era Passes with Granddad  -- Full Article from the Shedd Aquarium.

My Thoughts on the Dalton Gang

As someone who visited the Dalton shrine many times as a child, I still have to say that the Dalton Gang remains one of the crummiest outlaw gangs ever. Most of the gang started as lawmen of various types, but were stiffed of their wages and turned bad--how crummy of a lawman must one be to be stiffed?

Once they became a lawless band of robbers, their time was short-lived, and their most famous act was screwing up a robbery so badly that most of a town showed up to shoot them all dead. Of course, it gave us this fine picture that would make a great album cover had they lived long enough to record some music:

In the end, it's worth noting the most famous musician of the area, Joe Walsh, born up the road in Wichita, played with a band called the James Gang, not the Dalton Gang.

upload.wikimedia.org

upload.wikimedia.org

Anytime I think of work I turn on one after nine o nine. Then I feel better.

Re-Redefining Slow--In the Snow

For those of you who've dutifully followed the blog, I've been a little remiss at updating. Please accept my deepest apologies. The snow and ice here have been very deep, and I've been inside on the elliptical machine. I saw no great audience to a progression of: "I watched Oprah for 45 minutes again."

Fortunately I broke down and bought a pair of cross country skis which gives me a great reason to get outside and get some exercise (with thanks to the fine folks at Free Flight).

Of course I know very little about cross-country skiing, so it's an
interesting experience. I'm presuming that at some point I'll stop looking at my
skis while I'm doing this (like I've finally quit looking at my feet while
running). I'm also hopeful that I'll be able to get down a hill without thinking
of Herman Maier's Nagano wipe-out.

However, with all this talk of skiing, spring is surely around the corner.
Among the peace of a nice winter day were literally hundreds of squirrels
digging wherever there was exposed ground. I've never witnessed squirrels in
herds before. There were also geese flying up over the hill from the river and
heading undeniably north. Between these signs of nature, and the gentle
reminders to start thinking of lawn care from every store, I can tell I'll be
back on the road soon.

X-Country Skiing

1/2 Marathon--Take Two

Even though my front yard has two feet of snow on top of the grass, it's time to think about new challenges for the new year.

As such, with the encouragement of a few of my friends, it's time to do it again. While I felt that I "redefined slow" in Phoenix (click here for pictures), I'm hopeful that I can do a little better and get closer to the time I was shooting for there: 2:40 (still slow for those of you keeping score at home).

With the support of my family and friends, I'm off to Madison, Wisconsin on the 28th of May for the Madison Marathon (I'll take 1/2, thank you). I'm hopeful that a lack of snow and ice on the sidewalks will make for a much better training experience and a much better result.

As much as I love Oprah and Dr. Phil, training indoors bites.

Done

"Redefining Sweaty"

A's

9

Southern Girls Love Runners

Denise and Ann appreciate Curt's pre-sweaty presence. Photo by Ray.

Looking for my "Corral"

Enjoying the Pre-Start Chaos

Winter Running Conditions

View From a Window

Where's Yukon King?

Sushi Zen NYC

I was never compelled to use any of this while ice fishing in the East River.

NY State of Mind

This morning I took a nice run through Central Park in New York City. According to the little map I downloaded, it was a nice six mile loop through the little forest within the city.

The weather was around 40, and the sky kept looking like it was going to dump snow or rain at any moment, but held off. Though I could always hear the traffic, there were actually times I couldn't see it directly, though the tall buildings ringing the park let me know that no matter how idyllic it might seem, I'm still surrounded by humanity in all directions.

Central Park is set up well for all the folks who walk, wander, run, bike, relax, or live there. There are large vehicle-restricted areas that keep the casual observer from trying to share the same place as a taxicab or the occasional fearless civilian driver, and somehow even despite how many people are there (particularly near the south end), things flow smoothly. Running up the east side of the park, I was passed to my right by bicycles, and likewise I was passing walkers and strollers to my left, and especially north of 72nd St., there was nothing interrupting the pace of the folks out there.

The further north I went, the fewer the number of people out. The young mothers with the jog strollers left in the mid 70s, and passing the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservior there were few folks other than the park workers, the occasional police car, and the determined NY exercising folks who look neither left nor right and don't make eye contact with anyone. I did see an apparently homeless man, dragging two bags of miscellaneous stuff, and sporting a three-liter Camelbak hydration system. In New York apparently, high-end accessorizing has made it throughout the various social strata for which I'm presuming some presidential candidate will take credit.

After heading back south past the open fields at the north end I encountered an older German couple I'd met in my hotel who were out with a book on North American trees and in search of several different kind of leaves for their collection. In their long coats and somewhat pointy hats, they looked as though they could have been on some sort of Tolkein-inspired Hobbit hunt, but they assured me their interest was trees.

Further down, I saw a blind woman riding a bicycle. She had a friend following behind yelling directions, and she didn't try to go too fast. I remain very impressed with her skill and the level of trust she has in her friend. At one point I was concerned that the blind cyclist was going to ram a popcorn cart that was being unloaded from a truck, but she swerved just in time.

At the end of the run it was time to head out of the park and back down 7th Avenue into the swarm of Manhattan where smiling at a stranger or saying "good morning" has the typical resident thinking of dialing 911.

As for the run itself, the pace was good, around 12 min./mile, and the walk too and from the park was a great warm-up. The one thing that I didn't expect is that the park is somewhat hilly. It's not the Himalayas, nor even the Poconos, but it's certainly not flat. It's a very nice run, and certainly worth the schedule-bending it took to fit it in.

It's Not Winter, Yet...

This morning gave me a full challenge of layering and wind protection. There was a nice, gusty wind, and an air temperature of somwhere south of thirty degrees. The legs felt good, however, and the increased mileage in my regular loop (now up to four miles) didn't seem to hurt. Carmex and some lubriderm before starting out seem to help, but it will be a hat and a scarf before long.

My pace has been around 12 minutes per mile at this point, and the training plan is looking for around 45 minutes of running at each point during the week. I'm on the three minutes running/one minute walking plan, so I'm feeling more like I'm actually running, and the walk breaks seem to come quickly most of the time.

I'll keep my eyes open for snow, and keep the heavier polar fleece at the ready.

Thanksgiving in Wichita

Yesterday, I declined to run since it was thirty degrees with a twenty mile an hour wind and blowing drizzle. I wimped out.

Today, my son, daughter, and cousins all said, "you will freeze,” as I prepared. It was beautiful outside, however. I'm in Wichita preparing for the excitement of the Thanksgiving Dinner hosted by my aunt Lenore. In order to fully prepare for the inevitable overstuffing, today’s run was very important.

I chose a four mile loop up a bike trail along an expressway and then back through a housing development’s “fitness trail.”

The sun shone brightly this morning, the wind was mild, and the cold was an abstract concept. There was a heavy layer of frost on the grass though the street and sidewalks were mostly clear.

The calm wind really helped keep my temperature right, though the layering techniques I’ve been learning also contributed to this. I ran with a lightweight jacket and pants with a light Polartec mock-turtleneck underneath. For the first time, I also wore a stocking cap, which came off about halfway through.

Aside from the deceptively icy bridges on the “fitness trail,” the run was uneventful and pleasant. It was cold enough that the casual folks who would normally be clogging the trail with $600 imported jog-strollers were inside watching the Macy’s Parade, leaving the day to those of us who enjoy the nip in the air and the fog from our breath.