Posted on

Mike Madness and all its basketball glory is back July 21

Lace up the kicks. It’s time to get ready for the 2nd Annual Mike Madness 3-on-3 basketball tournament.

Register early, like now, because this event — set for July 21 at the University of Alabama at Birmingham Recreation Center — is hot.

Here’s where to go: https://mikemadness.org/.

Last year we raised more than $13,000 for the Lewy Body Dementia Association to help support research and awareness of this often misdiagnosed disease. Behind Alzheimer’s, it is the second leading form of dementia, affecting 1.3 million people nationwide.

I have the disease. So, I have a personal interest in any research that will help. This year we hope to raise more money and we will again be giving to LBDA but also are going to support UAB research of Lewy body dementia.

(Not related: But the UAB team, also, happened to win last year’s tourney with a roster of Division 1 talent. This year we’ll have two divisions– see rules.)

The average lifespan after Lewy body diagnosis is roughly 4 to 7 years. I’m 58 and was diagnosed a little less than two years ago. I’m not going to lie, the disease has noticeably affected my game. My stamina has lessened. My right arm has weakened, affecting arguably the best part of my game -3-point shooting. I’m using my left hand more because it is less affected.

But I still have my ‘elbow’ pass, which sometimes actually finds its target.

Why me? And why basketball?

I’ve been playing pick-up basketball in my 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s. In fact, I was probably playing the best basketball of my life in my 40s when I lived and worked in the San Francisco Bay Area. I played full court 3 to 4 times a week. In Oakland I even played in some games with Warriors players (this was pre-Curry and NBA championships). But I played a few games with Chris Gatlin, a retired Warrior. And I had some fun playing with Adonal Foyle, 6′ 10″ center who in pick-up games fired away from the 3-point line – something Coach Chris Mullin would never allow him to do in a real game.

So, this disease, as I wrote last year, is pissing me off: It’s messing up my brain and it’s messing up my game.

But here’s what I’m doing to fight it:

For one, I started a blog at www.myvinylcountdown.com, counting down and telling stories about my 678 vinyl records I collected in the 1970s and 1980s. I’ve done more than 170 records with about 500 to go. Again, it’s about raising awareness of Lewy body dementia, and I have vowed to finish them all, so LBD get outta my way.

And second, the reason for this column: I’m asking you to play in Mike Madness, get someone else to play, contribute through the website, or all of the above. Not just for me, but for the 1.3 million Americans who are losing their games for the same reason I am

No trash talking (unless you are good at it.)

For more of my informal and totally nonbinding rules see this post.

For the real rules go to the website.

My Team: Nephew Joe Oliver, brother/coach David Oliver, nephew Jake Vissers, nephew Zack Cohen, me/

tact and passed a lot so I could live to play another day.

Reach Mike Oliver at moliver@al.com

Posted on

Joe Ely — 501

ALBUM: High-Res (1984)

MVC Rating: 4.0/$$

Joe Ely I forgot about you. How good you are.

I pulled this out of the collection and couldn’t recall a song on it but had the feeling that I used to like this. Ely, pronounced Eeelee, is a Texas roots rocker who was once good  friends with Joe Strummer and played with the Clash.

Great guitar player, good songwriter and club-disciplined live performer.

He defies classification.  That said, I wish I had more of his  records. Hi-Res is good but has a little bit of that 1980s over production veneer. Songs of notice: ‘What’s Shakin’ Tonight,’Cool Rockin’ Loretta,’ and probably my favorite ‘Letter to Laredo,’ which has some nasty guitar licks, and also some not-so -nasty Duane Eddy-like bass string ‘twang’ reverberation.

According to Wikipedia, which I am careful with, Ely toured with the Clash, ultimately performing together in Ely’s hometown of Lubbock, Texas. The Clash even name checked Ely in their song ‘If Music Could Talk’ off  of the Clash’s Sandinista. Ely was preparing to record with Strummer when the Clash front man died.

Here’s from ‘Laredo:’

As I was rolling across the Mississippi, I stopped there and I cried, no use for a man to keep a mighty river all dammed up inside

I jumped bail from  Sweetwater County,  now I’m on the run, on my head is a five-number bounty, for a crime I never done.

Take this letter to Laredo to the one I love, tell her to stay low, beneath the stars above, her love is my only alibi, it’s for her love I lied

Posted on

Duane Eddy — 502

ALBUM:  Twangin’ the Golden Hits (1964)

MVC Rating: 3.5/$$$

Twang.

Twang. Twang. Twang. What’s that called when the word sounds like the sound it is a word for? Let me run to Google.

Shite, I already had this in my head as the answer but I looked it up anyway. I hate when  I do that. Of course it’s onomatopoeia. Meow.

Duane Eddy it seems couldn’t shake that twang thang.

The twang sound was a technique of playing lead on his guitar’s bass strings to produce a low, reverberant ” sound. according to  his Wikipedia page.

Dang. I wrote earlier that John Anderson had a twangy voice, broadening the boundaries of the word’s descriptive power. Over three decades or four, Eddy put out 33 albums, a number of which were recycled greatest type packages.

But of those 33, nearly half — 14 — had Twang or some version (Twangin’, Twangy) in the title.  So he was all about the Twangin,’ and I’ll proffer here the guy could twang.

This ‘greatest hits’ album I have is frustrating, however. It doesn’t have the ‘Peter Gunn’ soundtrack, a Henry Mancini piece that was the theme song for the self-entitled television show.

‘Rebel Rouser’ is good, maybe not rousing good, but sock hop tuneful.

Raunchy’? Not much. ‘Shangri La’ didn’t get there.

Instrumental music guitar has always been a bit difficult. I admire good music but I also like my words, you know I do. Oops sorry I just had to slap myself, ‘Last Date’ just about twanged me to sleep. “Honky Tonk’ had words but needed women. Now ‘Rumble’ is good in a slow grind way. Nice sax  — which is also present and well played on several tracks. And then there’s ‘The RIver Kwai March,’ yes that one that opens with whistling. Actually in Eddy’s cover version, it sounds like a piccolo has replaced human lips. But this upbeat war music piece seems oddly out-of-place here.

Overall, my take is this is background music for a late 50s  dinner party. But he is a R&R hall of famer and Grammy winner, so what do I know.

File this one next to the Chet Atkins album I reviewed earlier.  Now for some instrumental party guitar, more what Eddy strives for, not Chet (a legend by the way),  I will in the future review a little known band called the Raybeats. Now they rock.

Also, I have a copy of an album by a group called the SIlencers from Pittsburgh which has a locked and loaded version of ‘Peter Gunn.” to be reviewed when I get to the S’s in my alphabetical journey.

Posted on

Forgive J.R. Smith (blog version)

NOTE:  A version of this originally appeared on AL.com.

I remember it like it was yesterday (and I have a degenerative brain disease.)

Playing right field, I reacted to the crack of the bat. This was big time Little League baseball in Athens, Ga.

“Please don’t let it come to me” went through my head like 1,000 times in a millisecond. Everything slowed down. My adrenaline was surging through my body. Everything slowed waaaay down. People were shouting 33-1/3 rpm when they should have been 45 rpm:

“Dooon’t Drop The Ball,” a horde of deep bass Lurches were yelling . I was moving in slow motion like I was underwater. I thought about my dog, Lucy.  Lucy had died recently. Oh my gosh,  Lucy is dead. I grieved in a millisecond.  I thought about my Dad in the stands, won’t he be proud of me if I catch this.  i thought about my Aunt Velma in Idaho, wait a minute,  I don’t have an Aunt Velma in Idaho.

Then things sped up triple speed. Whoooooooooosh!  Bat crack. Baseball is tiny dot in earth’s upper atmosphere. Falling, falling, getting bigger. Smacks my leather glove. Rolls out.

I dropped the ball.

In three seconds, I lived a lifetime.

The bases– which seemed pretty well  occupied by other team baseball kids — cleared . I’m not sure,  but I think all nine of their players touched home plate in the frenzy afterward.

The game, or life as they like to call it in Athens, Ga., was over.

Just like in the Johnny Cash song , ‘I  hung my head and cried.’

Flash forward to just a few weeks ago, I was playing basketball in  my Old Man Hoops League here in Birmingham. Good friends we all are. They helped organize a basketball fund-raiser for Lewy body dementia last year which we are looking to reprise (stay tuned for details).

So these are very good friends. They know my game and have an extensive scouting report on me. Boiled down the report is:  He used to be good, now he’s not.

Fair enough. Good bulletin board  material. (Smiley face insert here).

It was a next-bucket-wins the game thing. I had the ball. Most of the time I’d take a shot in that situation. But  out of the corner of  my eye  I saw Paul in an area  where he is comfortable  and accurate with his sweet little jumper. My faithful  and often painful worship of my childhood hero Pete Maravich possessed me to swing a behind-the-back pass to Paul which was rather easily picked off by Clay.

There commenced a race down the court which my 58-year-old legs denied me permission to participate in. They scored, they won.

My team avoided eye contact with me.

I know this is a long way to  getting to  the J.R. Smith headline. J.R, a good longtime NBA sharpshooter now with Cleveland Cavaliers, famously made a boo boo last week  in an extremely important  NBA Playoff game. The consensus is that he thought  his team was ahead when he rebounded the ball   with seconds left.  But it  was tied. Instead of putting it back up for a score and a win, he dribbled the ball out. Tied, the clock ran out and the game went into overtime.

Guess who won in overtime.

I’ll bet the world slowed down and sped  up for him.

National headlines. A public shaming.

Few thoughts. First he needs to come clean  and apologize to his teammates. And maybe he has. If so good for him!  I sought forgiveness  and it was good. “Don’t do that ever again,” my teammates said.

Thanks for your forgiveness, I said. (That’s how we usually say we forgive each other: Don’t ever let it happen again.

Secondly, J.R. needs to seek therapy.

This isn’t the first high level boneheaded play for him. For goodness sakes there’s a YouTube video chronicling his mistakes. Maybe there’s something from childhood that is stopping him from being all he can be.

I have a friend, yeah that’s right, a friend,  who was having recurring nightmares  about dropping a baseball and then after therapy he  had a dream that he caught it. Yaaaaaay. He ran around with ball in hand triumphantly.

But everybody was pointing and laughing.

Because he had no clothes on.

AAAARGH. Just a dream. Just a friend’s dream. Sometimes therapy doesn’t work.

But I forgive you J.R Smith.

I’ve been there.

 

Posted on

Dave Edmunds – 503

ALBUM: The Best of Dave Edmunds (1981)

MVC Rating: 4/$$$

Ah, rock and roll. Smooth unfiltered like good Kentucky bourbon. It’s Berry DIddley and for Everley Buddy Lee Lewis.

(Well that last sentence sort of belies the unfiltered description. Maybe filtered just right like Marlboro Lights? Not so good but I am deviating again.)

I picked up on Dave Edmunds from the group Rockpile’s ‘Seconds of Pleasure,’ which is similar to this best-of (although Rockpile is better).  It is just rock and roll with Edmunds, and when Lowe was involved, there were some great lyrics to go with the  three or four chords.

Dave is primarily a cover singer. Here he  does Crawling from the Wreckage’, a Graham Parker song and John Fogerty’s  ‘Almost Saturday Night’ and Elvis Costello’s ‘Girls Talk.’ And he covers his buddy Lowe, or does he expose himself?

Nick and Dave lent a hand in Carlene Carter’ very good album ”Musical Shapes,’   which has an Edmunds-Carter duet that seemed very friendly.

And Nick married Carlene.

And Nick wrote the song “I Knew the Bride (When she used to Rock and Roll).

And  Dave Edmunds covered the song,  coming up with what most say is the definitive version. Nick recorded several versions to lesser success than the Edmund’s.

Carlene and Nick divorced.

Subject for further research: the timeline that the above happened.

Sample lyrics.

Take a look at the bridegroom smilin’ pleased as pie
Shakin’ hands all around with a glassy look in his eye
He got a real good job and his shirt and tie is nice
But I remember a time when she would never even look him twice

Posted on

Electric Light Orchestra (blog yellow vinyl and bird edition) — 505, 504

Yellow vinyl on ELO disc entitled OLE.

ALBUMS: Ole’ ELO (1976); Outta the Blue (1977)

MVC Rating: 5.0/$$$$$ Blue 4.5/$$$$$

My countdown continues with yellow vinyl.  Is that a sign?

You may have heard about the yellow bird.

A beautiful yellow cardinal, the result of a rare genetic mutation, has been photographed and videotaped here in the Birmingham area.

Now the bird is fathering babies. I hope they are each a different color.

So there’s the yellow bird flying free having babies and I have the yellow vinyl.

It’s a yellow record called ELO OLE, an early greatest hits album from the multimillion selling supergroup the Electric Light Orchestra. The yellow disc and ELO’s ‘Out of the Blue’ album are my NP (Now Playing) portion of my column.)  I will follow this NP with five records culled from deeper in my blog. Overall, since last September I have reviewed 169 records on the way to 678.  It’s all to bring awareness to Lewy body dementia, which I have. On with the Yellow Vinyl.

I recollect that it was approximately 1978 in Athens, Ga., when the local AM radio station, WRFC I believe, asked for caller number something would get this record. I called and I got it. I’ve opened it and have played it just a few times, left the shrink wrap on because thought it was special.

It was a promotional DJ copy and it is a little rare. Worth about $60 in this great condition, according to my perusal of the Internet. It’s good music too (as a bonus).

Jeff Lynne and ELO wanted to make music that combined grand symphonic features and flourishes. They fancied themselves taking up where the Beatles left off in such pieces as ‘A Day in the Life’ or ‘Magical Mystery Tour.’

And they did well. This yellow disc compilation of early ‘hits’ is a fascinating look at how the group was blending orchestral instruments with rock and roll. You can almost hear them testing the waters with OLE. On ‘10538 Overture’ and ‘Kuiama’, they are very much in ‘prog’ rock territory. Cellos and violins and synthesizers sweep around on various floors of this musical building. As the album progresses you can guess where this group is headed: Hitsville baby.

I got proof of that in my other  ELO album, ‘Out of the Blue,’ which was a two-record worldwide hit that seemed to spawn endless amounts of Top 40 hits.

Now there’s no question these guys were good at what they did – but they couldn’t ever really get the respect? Was it an Eagles thing I’ve addressed before? Or like Dire Straits, they just got so big they weren’t ‘cool’ any more? Again. I say it’s an undeserved lack of respect. They sell multimillions of records by being bad? Like Yogi Berra said, nobody goes there anymore it’s too crowded. That said, they started going for the pop  life about the same time I was moving away from it. So songs like ‘Strange Magic,’ though catchy, is not something I’d choose on a jukebox. ‘’Boy Blue,’ maybe.

Addressing this lack of respect issue I can’t help but remember this unfortunate moment about ELO. At the George Harrison tribute concert, a band of superstars commenced  playing ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps.’ Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, and their respective band members, and Harrison’s son, Dhani Harrison. Anyway, the ELO guitarist is just jamming away, soloing, picking, doing a pretty good job.

Then Prince emerges from the other side of the stage. Prince had reportedly left the rehearsal of the song in a huff, fired his sound guy, so there was a lot of uncertainty what if anything Prince’s performance would be.

Here’s description from a New York Times story:

The Petty rehearsal was later that night. And at the time I’d asked him to come back, there was Prince; he’d shown up on the side of the stage with his guitar. He says hello to Tom and Jeff and the band. When we get to the middle solo, where Prince is supposed to do it, Jeff Lynne’s guitar player just starts playing the solo. Note for note, like Clapton. And Prince just stops and lets him do it and plays the rhythm, strums along. And we get to the big end solo, and Prince again steps forward to go into the solo, and this guy starts playing that solo too! Prince doesn’t say anything, just starts strumming, plays a few leads here and there, but for the most part, nothing memorable.

So when the real thing went down, some didn’t even know Prince was playing.

More NYT:  The group featured Tom Petty and two other members of the Heartbreakers, as well as Jeff Lynne, Steve Winwood, Dhani Harrison (George’s son) and Prince, himself an inductee that year. Marc Mann, a guitarist with Mr. Lynne’s band, played Eric Clapton’s memorable solo from the album version of the song. But Prince, who essentially stood in the dark for most of the performance, burned the stage to the ground at the song’s end.

The ELO guy didn’t know what hit him. Probably still doesn’t. Petty’s mouth hung open. Harrison’s son shook his head with a huge smile.