The good, the bad and the ugly

This past weekend was momentous in the annals of Park history, as three events were accomplished in just two days' time. There was an inconvenience that threatened to muddy up the proceedings and give us the blues, but since 'ark didn't let it get to him -- and he was the one majorly discomforted -- we will bypass that and get to the good stuff.

Now over the past weeks, I've gotten to introduce 'ark to people, places and things he hadn't experienced before. This week, it was going to happen twice to me. First on the docket was Popa Chubby, who I think should deem himself Pop A. Chubby if he doesn't want people to call him Pope-a Chubby as much!


But frankly who cares what a guy's name is when he can play guitar like that. But first thing's first. There were special guest Parkies for the show -- namely lovely Ellen and hubby Carmen. Ellen's known as journeygirl in Eric Clapton Access circles, so I deemed them journeycouple. We found out that all of us were already planning to see Zucchero at Carnegie Hall the next day -- small world.

As we were seeing the show at the famed Mexicali in Teaneck, N.J., we thought we'd meet up for dinner there. Wasn't quite as impressed by the food as we thought we might be ... but the banana chimichanga was a delight, despite its visage on arrival. Flowing chocolate will do that to a dish.

Less of a delight was the opening band. I had my doubts about them when they opened with "How Sweet It Is," but totally lost interest after that. As did Ellen. At one point, we accidentally bonked heads and thought that to be more infinitely interesting. The cover band definitely had some Grateful Dead leanings, and as we do not, their set left us at least comatose en route to the flat line.

But none of that mattered, cause Popa came out and plugged his guitar right into our souls. The result was a couple of hours of searing rock blues. When it comes to Hendrix covers, I'm as discriminating as a few thousand Fab Four fans at a Beatles convention, but I was totally knocked out by "Hey Joe." The solos were strong and not repetitive and it seemed like he and his crew coulda gone on forever. I know dozens of us would have stayed.


But after a couple endings and then a final finale, the show did end. We waited to meet Popa and his wife, Galea -- who had not only held her own when she came on stage for a few songs but even added more to the night by doing so. They were both as cool as they could be and we posed for the first Park-band photo.

When 'ark first brought up Saturday's Zucchero show, I said uhhhh we were going to Devils-Rangers at the Garden. Turned out the preseason hockey tilt was at 1 p.m., so we were able to do both. This marked 'ark's first time at an NHL game and I gave him the whole afternoon to ask all the stupid questions that he won't be able to query when the games mean something.

The Devs quickly took it to their rivals, with my man Patrik Elias potting the first goal within 90 seconds and another one by Dainius Zubrus a couple minutes later. Elias got another one later and I thought I might FINALLY see my first "hatrik" but nope, another two-goal Patty game for P.

And how did 'ark hold up? Well he seemed to getting into it and gaining some understanding, even sitting on the edge of his seat at some point. And then the funny thing... the third period ended and I got up to celebrate and, well, 'ark sat there waiting for a fourth period. Hahaha. He was wondering why all the Rangers fans would leave with 20 minutes to go.

I usually stick to the entertainment portion of the program but the visit to the legendary Ruth's Chris Steak House should get some mention, just 'cause the meal was so damn good!



And then the capper, Zucchero. Two days after his birthday, the Italian rock/blues/the kitchen sink singer drove the crowd into a frenzy with his passion, verve and talent. There was rockin' at Carnegie Hall that probably hasn't even been seen at the Garden in some time. People getting into the music and just enjoying it without stepping on each others' toes. And you don't even have to understand every word to feel it down to your own digits. (Editor's note: Will add photos for this ASAP.)

So due to those circumstances beyond our control, we may be Parkless this coming weekend, but in two weeks, we'll have a verrrry special guest and the first of two Lindsey Buckingham shows that I'm just racing my motor about as we speak.

Embracing pop music

It's kind of fun tracing your musical lineage. For instance, I'm sort of known for the early Rick Springfield affinity, but as 'ark has pointed out repeatedly -- including this past weekend -- the man can play the guitar. Which explains why I spent hours air guitaring various Working Class Dog/Success Hasn't Spoiled Me Yet/Living in Oz/Hard to Hold riffs.

Of late, I've been listening a ton to Fleetwood Mac and their various solo projects. I consider the band to be a manifestation of several of my Sybil-like personalities (Stevie is the mystical moon lover side and Lindsey is the obsessive compulsive and Christine is the sweet side and Mick/John are the rocks.) This is an even better analogy than my old "Star Wars" personality test. Plus I can get my pop AND blues rocks off with the different manifestations of a band that's been in existence as long as I've been alive.

So we have two Lindsey Buckingham gigs coming up -- one in Atlantic City on Oct. 11 and then another a week later at Nokia in the city. In the meantime, there's plenty of music to be digested.

This week Park only had one mere gig (what??!! slippage!!) But it was a doozie -- the recently reunited Squeeze at the legendary Radio City Music Hall. Not being a child of the '80s nor MTV, 'ark was a little taken aback by the electrono aspects of the greatest hits CD I prepared for him. But I knew that 1.) Glenn Tilbrook's ability with the guitar and 2.) the working-class catchy lyrics and music penned by Chris Difford and Glenn would impress him.

Another great obsession has also arisen in recent weeks, the notion of playing guitar again. I only played for a few weeks back in the 'pequa Park days, but the bug's been biting of late. 'ark's guitar collection might have something to do with that.

The great question has been about my penchant for playing left-handed (like the biggest and best hero, Jimi). Should I play a righty upside down (while I show off my butt like butt hero Doyle) or should I play a guitar specifically made for a lefty? We looked through some of the legendary shops on 48th before heading for the gig.


At which I made one of the most bone-headed mistakes possible. I will say it now here in hopes that NO ONE ELSE REPEATS such a faux pas. No I'm not talking about the way my blue-lit swizzle stick kept falling out of my drink. I saw a shirt I wanted -- a women's Black Coffee in Bed shirt. And I thought, oh, I'll just wait until after the show and get it then. Big mistake. Don't know if they had like two because it was the last show of the tour, but they were gone by the time I got back. My heart was broken, in a I didn't get a shirt-no biggie-but that's a bummer-kinda way.

The show itself was a lot of fun. Since the reunion show I saw last year, the solos have gotten looser and made the songs more breezy. The great fun in a Squeeze show is it's sort of like a live jukebox. As Casey Kasem used to say, the hits just keep on coming! One familiar song after another, and they're short and to the point and just fun.

The only false note was not hit on the stage but in the row next to us in the second mezzanine as several people left, mid-set, right after "Tempted" was played. I wondered why they just didn't stay home and play the single. Then a couple more people would have been able to get into the sold-out show.

Being in the second mezz kept me and my bad knee in my seat longer than it normally would have, but I still had to pop up for the encore songs -- Hourglass and Pulling Mussels from a Shell. 'ark chose to proactively try and support my frame so that I wouldn't cause myself any further damage. I will pause for a moment to give you time to "awwwwwwww."

Just a note about the opener, the band James, before I go. You suck! I soooooooo would have preferred the southern tour opener, Fastball. If I wanted to listen to you, James, I would cut U2 and Coldplay CDs in half and then tape them together. Then they obviously would skip and repeat the same words ad nauseum ... you know, like you do.

Next up: Park joins the journeycouple for Popa Chubby in Teaneck and then journeys to Carnegie Hall for Zuccheroo. Sorry, Zucchero, someone I know used to call to pronounce it zuck-eroo. I'm sure I'll be over that next Saturday.

Getting our religious groove on

This weekend was all about religion as most soulfully and heartfully expressed through music -- from an unexpected Christian bill in Virginia at which Robert Randolph was the opening (and only listenable act) to the soul-baring belting of Dana Fuchs around the corner from where I work. As 'ark often says and I concur, that's one church I can get into.

It was 'ark's premise for me to train down to Virginia after work Thursday at 3 a.m. and then we'd go on to Virginia Beach for the Robert Randolph show, at which he had third-row seats. So off we went. We arrived just as the set was beginning and wound up seated three rows back from center stage, right in his sights.

So out came the RR head on a stick that as creator Steve said I "really worked for" at the Jones Beach Eric Clapton show, shaking and pounding on my Yankees cozee fist through the entire version of "Motherless Children" without missing a beat. And no joke, three seconds after I had it up, RR was flashing his trademark ear-to-ear toothy grin. Is that a record for fastest reaction to head on a stick?



As 'ark hasn't yet loaded photos from the show, here is an example of head-on-as-stick with EC wearing RR's detachable doo-rag.

It was a rousing set, and even as an opener, RR was able to get the crowd somewhat energized. Sampling "When the Saints Go Marching In," certainly helped out in that regard, although Park certainly didn't need it to be revitalized.

And this is pretty close to our view:


In previous tours, RR would wear a different football jersey every night, so I had my Giants' Eli Manning jersey in tow just for that purpose. And although it was too hot for one, I dutifully wore it to jam for the whole set. It was a short set though, with three more acts having to come on and the religious contingent needing to be in bed by 8:30, it was understandable.

After going off for grub, we didn't exactly hurry back and when the next of the three acts -- either Jars of Clay, Switchfoot or Third Day -- started to play, we were very unspiritualized. Expecting it to get worse instead of better, and preferring to get ourselves home at a reasonable time instead of people-watching with heavy-handed background music, we departed. (We did get home in time to see my alma mater South Florida jump out to a big lead in the fourth quarter, only to lose it and then win with a final-second field goal.)

And then the second part of the journey. Back on the train to NYC to see the inimitable Ms. Fuchs. For those of you who don't know her, she once starred in "Love, Janis" and then Fab Four-inspired "Across the Universe," culminating in the mesmerization of thousands of hard-to-impress Beatles fans at their annual convention last year. But saying that sells her short, because her own lyrics are dry, witty and soulful and she belts every one last one of them out for you.

I swear I could watch her every day and as each show comes to a close, I'm already thinking about the next one. Here's why:

I couldn't understand why an audience who saw Dana perform "Misery" during April's show at the same venue would vote for that when given the choice between that and "Bad Seed," which we didn't get ... but they did, and no "Bad Seed." But "Misery" is no hardship ... well it is as Dana's atypical love song, but it is still amazing.

Dana also took us to her personal church via "Bible Baby" and a fabulous cover of Randy Newman's "God's Song," the latter of which apparently had landed her in hot water during previous shows.



I snagged another setlist post-show, that's becoming a bit of an obsession ... and it was signed by her longtime guitarist Jon Diamond -- who reached a couple feet in the air to write on it on a speaker in the air -- and later Dana herself.



Then we waited for Dana and I wasn't expecting her to remember me much beyond me being on her "hair totem pole" (for those who haven't seen it)...

But then she came out and there was like a five-second "ohhhhhhhh Paige" and an apology for not getting her acoustic CD out to me. She added that her manager had recently been let go and they were focusing on a new studio album instead of that acoustic release. She added that bits of the bio I did on her were used during their recent European tour! That was an unexpected treat. I introduced her to Mark, she thanked me for bringing out another convert and a friendly photog took our picture together.

What can I say, another fab-o Park weekend. We definitely got some religion ... and I'm not talking about all the cursing I did after making it through the whirlwind weekend, only to sprain my knee back in my own bathroom!



Up next: 'ark's first trip to Radio City Music Hall will be my second show with the recently reunited Squeeze. Hope the knee's up to it.

Lots of firsts ... and one last

Park was busy this past weekend. Food, baseball, music, 15 seconds of fame ... what else could a hip happenin' couple want?

Let's see, let's start at the very beginning ... a very good place to start. Before heading to Yankee Stadium for the last time in the REAL Yankee Stadium's history, gotta eat. Now in NYC, there is a tourist trap known as Dallas BBQ. Now I ask you, why would you go to Dal-las BBQ in New-Yawk? (Seriously the food there is OK, and they do deliver to work so I can't belabor it too much.)



But where you really should go ... and this is just mere storefronts away from one of the franchise Dallasees, is the Rub! Aye, that's the Rub! BBQ that'll blow your mind while hopefully keeping your colon intact.



Now on to the game. Ark had never been to a game, let alone Yankee Stadium. So I got him ready by watching 61*, Billy Crystal's charmer of a film about Maris and Mantle's home run race in 1961. Then we went off to the ballpark. It really is amazing, you can still feel the history. The stands have changed, but you can see the short porch into which Maris delivered that record-contested homer. You can look at the area behind home plate and remember Thurman Munson sacrificing his body to make a play. You can look at shortstop and see slim, trim Derek Jeter. (I digress.)

For the ladies and the metrosexual men:


I was hoping that the game would stay close so that Ark could have the Mo experience. Meaning Rivera's run in from the bullpen to the strains of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" and a rousing standing ovation from the crowd. And that's just what happened. The game got a little tooooo close, but future Hall-of-Fame Iceman handled it.



And the Yankees win! (For a change.) I admit leaving that ballpark for the last time was a sad moment. Our next trip to Yankee Stadium, the field will be facing some other (wrong) way.



So one might think that Park would take it a little easy on Saturday. Not quite so... The plan was to see The Dark Knight in Imax, but thanks to some computer subterfuge and a packed house in the regular-screen version, Park decided to go elsewhere. After a quick peruse of Tkts (the half-price same-day Broadway ticket sale line), we decided to go to BB King's to see The Motels!

Ark kept confusing The Motels' 80s hit "Only the Lonely" with Roy Orbison's classic "Only the Lonely," so he pretty much went into the show without any expectations. I was a little wary but grew more and more excited. Puppethead (OK, Fun Puppet actually, but either way a really dumb name) opened and they were serviceable. And then The Motels. Now VH-1 got the 80s band back together for Bands Reunited, but this incarnation is just Martha Davis and a bunch of kids. Still they rocked it!




Some fans had the gall to protest the reworking of classic Motels songs (uh, go home and listen to the albums if that's all you want) and even though I had trouble digesting the reconstituted "Take the L," I still appreciated the effort. After the show, I snagged a copy of the setlist and Martha and a couple members of the band signed it!





and the piece de resistance...


And the best part... as you can see by the setlist -- Martha signed it to "Park" and even required an explanation as to what that meant. So I pointed out Ark and she said "Hi Ark!" to our favorite camera-wielding man. Way cool, the first celebrity recognition of Park. We'll have to work on that.

Got some great and tiring things planned for September. In a couple weeks there's a Robert Randolph show in Virginia followed the next day by a Dana Fuchs show in NYC. Also on the calendar: Squeeze at Radio City Music Hall the next week and Popa Chubby and ... all hail the return of hockey! ... Ark's first Devils game -- throwing him right into the fire with a preseason contest between the Devs and the most valiantly hated Rangers.